by H. L. Logan
Gretchen slept at Faye’s place. Several nights a week, I did, too. When I was there, I’d take her with me in the morning. When I wasn’t, I picked her up at Faye’s office first thing in the morning.
I took her with me to the university library, or to the grad student lounge. On days when she got especially fussy, I checked out the books I needed and worked at Faye’s apartment. Sometimes we went to the story hour at the public library. As she got a little bigger, sometimes we went to the playground. Even if she just crawled around in the grass, she enjoyed the fresh air and change of scenery.
At five, I brought her back to Faye. We exchanged a few kisses and talked about our days. Often we had dinner together. Often that led to going back to her place.
The sex was unbelievable, and the pillow talk was almost as good. We stayed up half the night reading poetry to each other and talking about the social context behind what we’d read. She introduced me to postcolonial writers, and I made her read some of the classics she’d always found too dull to try. Turned out nothing was too dull when I had my own special ways of rewarding her for listening.
Sometimes I was still awed when I took a step back and thought about who I was sleeping with. More and more, though, Faye was just Faye—smart, fun, and incredibly sexy. I felt lucky to have found a woman like her, and her title and credentials were only a bonus. I wished we could’ve had an official relationship, but I knew that would be asking for too much.
She and I were closer than ever. That warmed my heart, even as it confused me.
When it came to Gretchen, the difference was that there was a certain sense of resolution that had never been there before. A certain settledness.
It felt less and less like this was a temporary situation, more like Gretchen was going to be a permanent fixture in our lives. Our talk of her going back to Amanda had diminished to nothing. In fact, as time went on and Faye didn’t bring her up, I was a little afraid for her sister’s name to even cross my lips.
We didn’t know where Amanda was or what she was up to. Faye hadn’t heard from her since she’d backed out of meeting Gretchen, or if she had, she wasn’t telling me.
Gretchen had a high chair at Faye’s apartment now, and a second car seat to go in my car. Where did all this money come from? I didn’t know how, but between the two of us, we scrounged it up.
Thanksgiving passed… then Christmas. Since Faye didn’t have much of a family, I invited her to celebrate with mine. Maybe it was a little non-traditional to bring my friend with benefits and her niece-daughter to Christmas dinner—but at this point, no part of my life was traditional.
I’d worried a little about how Faye would get along with everyone. With her single-minded focus on literature, I wasn’t sure how much she could relate to non-academics. As it turned out, she had a lot to talk about with my sister, Stephanie. She was fascinated when she found out Stephanie was working on a movie screenplay.
Next, she charmed the entire family with her compliments to my mom and interest in my sisters’ lives. Plus, bringing an adorable baby along scored her major points.
Gretchen sat in a high chair and burbled as my mom served up her famous turkey with homemade stuffing. My sister Gillian pretended not to care about the baby, but I caught her holding her when no one was looking. Stephanie, on the other hand, was vocal about how adorable she thought Gretchen was.
Mom caught me alone after, full of questions about Faye and Gretchen. I kept my answers vague. How could I give her a good explanation of how exactly they fit into my life? I didn’t know, myself. All I did know was how much I wished my dad could’ve been there to meet Faye, too. He and Mom were such perfect counterparts, and I missed him all the time.
Faye and I spent New Year’s in her car, Gretchen in the back seat. We drank champagne this time as we watched the stars, listening to the countdown on the radio. When the clock reached zero, we were already kissing each other. I hoped to spend the whole year kissing nobody but her.
January came, then February. March.
We were well into spring by the time Faye heard from Amanda again.
* * *
I knocked on Faye’s office door at five. Gretchen’s carriage was a great relief for my back, but a bit unwieldy when it came to little things like, oh, getting through doors. Luckily these things only came up about fifty times a day.
“Hey,” I said, giving Faye a quick kiss when she let me in. “What’s that?”
She had a small piece of paper in her hand. From the way it was crinkled, I guessed she’d been folding and refolding it for a while. “Oh… nothing.”
The frown on her face betrayed her. “Doesn’t look like nothing,” I said. “Hand it over.”
Yeah, I was ordering Dr. Faye Charlotte Erwin around these days. What’s more, she actually listened to me.
“You might as well see it,” she muttered.
The paper was a check from Amanda Erwin. The amount wasn’t huge… but I wouldn’t have called it small, either. I bit my lip as I looked from the name to the number, then back again.
“She’s sending you money? Why?”
“There’s no note,” she said. “Nothing but what’s in the memo field.”
For expenses, it read.
“So this is supposed to be child support?” I asked. “That’s… a nice gesture.” Even if she should’ve been doing it since day one.
“I guess she got a job or something,” Faye said. “Anyway… I want you to have it.”
I pushed the check away. “Are you kidding? She sent it to you.”
“And you’ve been spending your own hard-earned money on my sister’s kid. Look, this won’t even cover what you spent on that stroller.”
She was right, but still. I stared at her hand. “I spend out of love for Gretchen. You know I care about that kid as if she was my own.”
Her voice softened. “I know you care… but she’s not yours.” She wrapped her arms around me, pressing a long kiss to my cheek. “I want you to have the money. You more than deserve it for everything you do for Gretchen.”
“I already get paid. Anything outside the job description is my own choice.”
“Jaz… I’m serious. If you don’t take it, I’m ripping it up. Take it.”
I examined the check. “You don’t think it’ll bounce, anyway?”
She snorted, then grinned. “There’s a good chance of that, actually. If it’s going to bounce, you might as well take it, right?”
“Hmph.” I slipped it into my pocket, then slid myself into the chair. “You think this is Amanda’s way of saying she’s never going to want Gretchen?”
“I saw it as her saying she’s aware she abandoned her.”
We hadn’t talked about this in a while, and I hesitated before asking. “You wouldn’t still want Amanda to put her up for adoption?”
“I guess I should,” Faye said, “but I don’t. In fact… I’ve been looking into preschools in Rosebridge.”
My eyes widened. “Isn’t she way too young? She’s barely six months old.”
“Sure, but these places are competitive. You have to get signed up really early.”
“Two years early?”
“If not earlier.” Faye laughed at my expression. “They only have so many slots. Even if I register Gretchen now, she’ll probably have to pass a test closer to the start date. That’s if I want her at a good preschool, anyway.”
“And you do.”
“The best, if possible.” She stuck a hand in Gretchen’s carriage, getting her to wrap her tiny fingers around her thumb. “The only thing is that only her parent or guardian can enroll her.”
“So?” I frowned at her. “Wait… are you saying you want to adopt her?”
“I… I spoke to a lawyer about it over the weekend.” Her cheeks were tinged with pink. “It’ll be easier if Amanda is on board, but I don’t see her having an issue with it. As far as I can tell, that would be her best-case scenario, to the extent she even cares what happens t
o Gretchen.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t resist the urge to pull the baby out of the carriage and hug her to me. This was good news, but how would it change my relationship with her? And with her?
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Faye said.
“What? What do you mean? You don’t owe me anything.” I pursed my lips, looking at the child in my arms. Like Faye said, she wasn’t mine. “I’m just the babysitter.”
“You’re more than that.” Faye leaned in as if wanting to touch me, but the desk was too much of a barrier, and she backed away. “I’ve told you before, I don’t know how I would’ve done any of this without you.”
My gut churned. “You would’ve found a different babysitter.”
I set Gretchen back in her carriage, suddenly irritated for reasons I couldn’t even articulate to myself.
Faye stood, stepping out from behind her desk as I began to walk away. “Jaz, you’ve probably spent as much time with her as I have. You’re more than an employee.”
“Except who would know it? You’re the aunt, and officially soon to be the mother. I’m the fuck buddy.”
She grabbed my arm. “Jaz, I thought you were happy with this arrangement.”
“I’m not.”
16
Faye
“You’re not?”
Of everything Jaz could’ve said at that moment, that was the last thing I’d expected.
We’d been doing this for so long, and she’d always seemed fine with the way things were. If anything, I’d been holding back for fear of getting hurt myself.
She was a youngster, unattached and free of commitment. Why would she ever want to tie herself down to a stodgy old professor like me? All right, I was only twenty-nine, but my lifestyle made me feel older.
And okay, the sex was hot. We burned up the sheets like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Jaz was the one bringing the heat, though. I imagined that to her, hours-long marathons involving feats of incredible skill were ordinary.
And sure, she liked Gretchen. Loved her, even. But that didn’t mean she was ready to sign on to be part of this for real. As her babysitter, she was already spending more time with her than an average single parent’s partner would.
It had never crossed my mind that she might want more.
“I know, it’s unthinkable.” Jaz wrenched her bicep out of my grasp. “For me to have any pretensions of having a real relationship with you is just inconceivable.”
“What are you talking about?”
Pain flashed in her eyes as she stared into mine. “You’re the fancy professor with the promising career and the family responsibilities. I’m just the idiot who’s barely struggled through a first draft of her thesis.”
I put a hand to my chest, which suddenly felt tight. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
“It’s true, isn’t it? You’re fine with having sex with me, but only if it’s all physical. Isn’t that what you said six months ago?”
My words from back then echoed in my mind. A physical entanglement, if you’re willing, maybe I could manage.
“All right,” I said hoarsely. “I did ask you for that.”
“Because you didn’t want a relationship.”
“Well, no… not at the time.”
My thoughts raced, recalling my realization that I did feel something for Jaz, and my decision to keep quiet about it because I was sure she didn’t feel the same. I’d been so certain in that belief, I’d never considered asking her to be official with me.
“And now?” she asked, her voice laced with bitterness.
“Jaz, I never meant to hurt you.” I took a step toward her, wishing we were anywhere but in my office. “I care so much about you.”
“As a friend,” she said flatly.
Unable to speak, I shook my head.
She crossed her arms. “Are you telling me you’re ready to commit?”
Yes. Yes. God, yes. I’ve been ready for months.
But the injured look on her face didn’t change. “Or do you just like the easy sex and babysitting arrangement too much to let go?” From her vantage point in the carriage, Gretchen let out a wail. The sound rose to the rafters, echoing off the walls.
Before I could answer Jaz’s question, she was in motion again. In one fluid movement, she stuck a soother in Gretchen’s mouth and opened the office door.
I leapt after her, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the hall. “Stop. You’re not even letting me speak.”
“Maybe I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”
“Maybe you would if you’d let me say it!” I seized her shoulders, wanting to shake the insecurities out of her. “You’ve created this whole narrative about what I’m thinking and feeling, but you never once asked to figure out if it was right.”
She hesitated then, her eyes darting around the halls to check if any other staff were around. They probably were, but I didn’t care anymore.
“I care about you, Jaz. I fucking—I think I might love you.” I watched as her eyes widened and the hard set to her mouth softened. “Yeah, the sex is insane and I’m blown away by the way you take care of my niece. But it’s not just that, Jaz, it’s you. And I didn’t think you felt the same.”
She swallowed, glancing around again. A few doors were definitely open that hadn’t been before, but she seemed to care about as much as I did. “You assumed I didn’t… meaning you created a narrative about what I wanted without asking me?”
I had to chuckle. “Maybe a little.”
“So you really want to go out with me?” she asked. “Like full-on, public dates, take-home-to-mama kind of thing?”
“All of the above.” I grabbed her hand and pressed it to my heart. My eyes fell on the bulletin board beside us, and I pointed. “Look, there’s a Spectrum Coalition mixer this Thursday. How would you feel about being my plus-one?”
She gave me the biggest grin I’d ever seen on her face. “It’s a date.”
* * *
So it was that I went from a single childless woman to a relationshipped almost-mother.
The transition was an easy one, as far as these things went. Gretchen didn’t have the capacity to understand the changes in our relationship. For my part, I gave her some extra-big hugs after my lawyer put in the adoption papers.
I found myself minding less when I needed to wipe her nose or clean food off her face. She was only learning, and soon I’d miss these innocent moments. In a little over a year, I’d have the terrible twos to deal with. Not to mention the teenage years—they said those snuck up on you faster than you’d expect.
I’d read a few parenting books over the months since I’d gotten her, and now I dove into them in earnest. I spent breaks between classes reading about how to be an authoritative guardian and not an authoritarian one. I bought all the Baby Einstein DVDs I could afford, then sat on the couch watching them with her.
Little by little, my apartment filled with toys… dolls, blocks, Legos. I even got her an iPad. “We’re a world of digital citizens now,” the blogs said—best to start kids off young. I wanted Gretchen to have every possible advantage.
Hoping she might grow up bilingual, I played her music in Spanish, then told myself to aim higher and added in French, German, and Mandarin. I switched to organic baby food and anti-microbial cloth diapers. Yeah, I was becoming one of those moms.
Sometimes Jaz and I stayed up late working on the scrapbook of her first year. Pictures, sketches, poetry. Gretchen was going to love it when she was older.
An occasional check arrived in the mail. Amanda never sent any notes along with them, nor did she call to see how her daughter was doing. I cashed them, usually giving the money to Jaz since she spent so much on Gretchen.
I told Amanda about the adoption over text.
She sent me back a smiley face.
* * *
My first public date with Jaz took place three days to the hour after we became official.
We�
��d been acting normal-ish in the meantime. Kissing more, cuddling longer, generally loving each other up. But that wasn’t much of a difference.
Turned out we’d basically been in a relationship for a while now. I just hadn’t realized it.
When we arrived at the Spectrum Coalition mixer, though, I was… nervous.
The campus LGBT society had reserved a room at the local gay bar. Crush was usually packed later in the night—or so I was told—but they were willing to rent out sections earlier in the evening. Apparently some of the students would stay and do some dancing later.
As we walked in, I was overwhelmed by the turn-out the group had gotten. The seats in the room were already full. “Hey, newbies,” a woman said, coming over to welcome us. “Come on in and start mixing. I’m Brooklyn.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jaz said. “I think I might’ve seen you in the grad lounge before.”
“Are you two grad students? I feel like these things only attract undergrads.”
“One masters student and one professor.” I squeezed Jaz’s hand.
“A-a-ahh, I see!” Brooklyn whisked us inside to introduce us to more people.
Nobody at the mixer seemed to care about the student-faculty status of our relationship. They were more interested in hearing about Gretchen, especially when Jaz pulled out her phone and started scrolling through the camera roll.
“Here she is sitting up on her own for the first time,” she said proudly to a guy named Arthur. “And here she is sitting on my lap at the library.”
Arthur’s eyes were glazing over after thirty or so pictures, but he made a valiant effort to enthuse over them anyway. “You’re such a loving mom.”
“Babysitter, actually.”
“Oh.”
I pulled Jaz away as I spotted a professor of my acquaintance. “Alice? I didn’t expect to see you here!”
By the end of the night, it felt like we’d socialized with every lesbian, gay, trans, and bisexual person at Beasley. Not a bad feeling, really.