by Smith, L. T.
I tried to peel her off me, but she wasn’t having any of it, so I had to shuffle away from the scene in the kitchen with my niece hanging on to my leg for dear life. Not the way I envisioned exiting the unexpected meeting with my mother, but what else could I do?
Thankfully, Abbie came to my rescue. She followed me outside and lifted Lily off me. Green eyes looked concerned as I climbed into my cab.
“I’ll call you later, Elles.”
I nodded as I started the engine. I knew that two pairs of green eyes were watching me as I drove down the road, and I missed their presence as I turned the corner and went back to the emptiness of the day.
As soon as I got home, I turned off my mobile. It was almost like Auden’s poem, but instead of the “Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,” it seemed more like “I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.” Too fucking right. Love doesn’t last forever. And it hurt to know that for certain. Love was a bitch.
How could my own parents turn their backs on me just because I never wanted to be with a man? Had I hurt anyone? Apparently. Them, by their account. It didn’t matter that I had done everything they had ever wanted, apart from conform to the romantic “norm.” I hadn’t been a wild teenager, never gave them reason to ground me. I wasn’t experimenting with lads behind the bike sheds or in the back seat of a crappy car. Maybe I should’ve, then I would have been more what they wanted. Would they have been happier if I had come home pregnant, or run away with some spotty teenager who happened to have a dick?
Where had my philosophical, “Too much has happened in my life to worry about their insensitivity and inability to love me no matter what” gone to? What had happened in between, what had happened before—it didn’t really matter, did it? I am gay. I prefer the company of women, although I hadn’t actually been with a woman for so long, I was more asexual than lesbian.
The image of my mother’s face popped into my mind. It had been thirteen years since I had seen her. I was hoping that her turning her back on me would have aged her, would have eaten her up with guilt, but no. She looked just the same as she always had, maybe a little older, but nothing of note. Part of me wondered what my father looked like, but then I thought “Who gives a shit?” I also wondered if they were happy that they had cut me out of their lives. Probably. And once again, “Who gives a shit?” It was obvious they didn’t care whether or not I was happy. They would have preferred that I pretend I was something that I wasn’t, that I live a life of misery rather than accept who I was.
Fuck ’em.
Twats.
Fucking twats.
I’d moved from hurt to anger in the space of thirty minutes. And with anger comes more anger.
How dare they? How fucking dare they try to mess up my life after all this time? Wasn’t it bad enough they had kicked me out when I was twenty with no means of looking after myself? They’d totally expected me to recant my claim on a life of degradation and come scuttling home with my and Toby’s tail between our respective legs.
Obviously, we hadn’t.
My lips peeled back from my teeth in a menacing grin. I bet my refusal to conform fucked them off big time. Images of my childhood rattled through my head. All the times my mother reprimanded me for just being a kid. Times when I wanted to share something with her, and she dismissed me with a look or a wave of her hand. School productions were never attended. Parents’ Evening was always met with “So, she could do better?” never a “Well done for coming top in English,” just a sneer and “You should work harder at Maths and Science. They’re more important.”
Don’t get me wrong, all my childhood wasn’t so bad. I had Abbie. It constantly surprises me how normal she turned out to be. She never let them get to her…never let them win. No wonder she got married so young. Yes, she loves Rob, but maybe getting married so young wasn’t just because they couldn’t wait to get hitched. I wondered what her story was. Had my parents tried to intervene with her life like they had mine?
“Brrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggg!”
The sound of my house phone nearly made me pee myself. I lunged towards it, but stopped before lifting it from its cradle.
Click. I listened to my voice announce that I couldn’t get to the phone right now, but if they would like to leave a message…
“Hey, Ellie.”
Why was Emily calling me? I’d seen her that morning. Walked Charlie with her, told her I was visiting my sister because the supplies I needed to finish the back fencing weren’t in yet.
“I…um…how’re you?”
Huh?
“I tried your mobile, but it went straight to answer phone. Can you call me back when you get this?”
I could, but that didn’t mean I would.
“Or Abbie.”
Bingo.
“Okay. Speak soon.”
Abbie had called her. I knew it in my bones. I bet if I turned on my mobile, it would have a missed call, maybe a couple of messages from my sister. I was surprised she had waited as long as she had. How long had it been since I had left her? An hour? Where was the witch whilst Abbie was calling me? Stirring her cauldron?
Stop. Why was I having a go at Abbie? It wasn’t her fault she was straight and had kept in contact with our parents. I was becoming bitter—or had I always been bitter and this was just an outburst, a bit like herpes?
I lifted the phone and dialed. It only rang a couple of times before a very familiar voice answered.
“Hey. You busy? Fancy meeting up for a bit?”
I was on the phone for less than a minute, and I felt better already. I had to get myself into gear, as I now had plans. I decided on a quick shower and a fresh set of clothes. Couldn’t be going to a pub at six in my work gear, could I? And I didn’t think Abbie would be too happy if I turned up stinking of toil, sweat, and tears.
Obviously I didn’t call Emily. I needed to speak to my sister; that was why I had gone around to see her in the first place.
Glancing through the window as I moved towards the bathroom, I felt a twinge of guilt when I spotted the supplies for the back fence under the tarpaulin sheeting where I had hidden them. I half-smiled. At least I’d fooled one person today. Fooling my sister was a completely different kettle of fish. She could spot a cover up before a person had time to blink.
Abbie was already at the pub when I arrived. Apparently she had left Lily at home with Rob. She was probably driving him mad with dog tricks and sing-alongs.
As soon as Abbie saw me, she stood and rushed towards me, then scooped me into her arms and hugged me close. “Sorry about earlier.”
I shrugged and tried to pull away.
“No. I am. I should’ve put Mum in her place.”
I tried to pull away again. “People are looking. They’ll think we’re a couple.”
“Let them look. When they’re talking about us, they are leaving some other poor bastard alone.”
I laughed and tilted my head back to look at her.
Abbie had one raised eyebrow and a self-satisfied smirk. “Fancy something to eat? This place boasts the best carvery in town.”
Bollocks. I’d forgotten about that when we had made the arrangements. I laughed, and Abbie looked at me questioningly.
“Nothing. Sit. I’ll be hunter gatherer.”
I wasn’t surprised to see the same barman waiting for me. He gave me a knowing nod and a wink before asking what he could get for me. Cheeky bastard. Couldn’t he see Abbie and me were related? I shrugged it aside and gave him my order.
As he passed me my change, he leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “I won’t say a word.”
I glared in response. What a wanker.
Abbie waited until we had
eaten before she brought up the subject of our parents.
Instead of answering her question about how I was feeling, I dived in with, “Why did you marry Rob so young?”
She cocked her head and looked at me with confusion. “Because we love each other.”
“I know that, but why so young? Why didn’t you just live together first?”
Abbie laughed. “Do I really have to explain that to you?”
No. She didn’t. She hadn’t been allowed to just “live” with the man she loved; she had to conform to parental expectations. But that wasn’t the Abbie that I knew. My Abbie would’ve told Mum to fuck off and moved in with Rob anyway.
I didn’t have to ask her again. She sighed and pushed her empty plate away. “It was made clear that if I lived “in sin” with Rob, I would no longer be welcome at home.”
I shrugged. To me that would have been no big loss.
“And that would’ve meant I wouldn’t get to see you. Mum made it very clear that I would be a bad influence on you.”
“But I was old enough to come and see you…old enough to make my own choices.”
Abbie leaned over and grabbed my hand, and I could feel the barman’s eyes on us. Pervert.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? It is all in the past. Rob and I love each other and would’ve got married sooner or later.”
“But—”
“No buts, Elles. It is what it is. I’m happy.” She stared into my eyes intently. “Are you?”
I looked at her in confusion.
“Happy?”
I opened my mouth, but couldn’t decide whether to say yes or no.
“You could be, if you gave her a chance.”
“I did. I have. We did…erm…nothing.”
“What the fuck? You did…erm…nothing? Story of your life, little sis.”
I bit my top lip to stifle my initial retort, giving a very good impression of a bulldog in the process. “We nearly…then we didn’t. She… I… Bollocks.”
“Have you asked her out on a date? A proper date and not ‘Let’s go and see Charlie’?”
I was sure I had. Sure of it. Near the beginning—
The lunch, yes. No. It was just lunch after all. Rob’s Bash! No, once again. I had to be told to go and pick her up, which is something you don’t normally do when on a date.
I opened my mouth to answer, and then this wonderful image of a certain brown-eyed boy appeared in front of my eyes. Charlie. He was the reason I hadn’t asked Emily out on a date. And why did I have to go through all the different scenarios before I was reminded of the reason why I hadn’t formally asked Emily Carson out? I shook my head to dispel the thought, but Abbie took it as negation.
“You need to—”
“No I don’t.” I whipped my hand from hers.
“Yes. You do.” She grabbed my hand back and dragged me over the top of the table, not right over, but far enough for us to be eye to eye.
I looked over her shoulder and saw the barman giving me the thumbs up. I wanted to send him the British two fingered salute, but I couldn’t get my other hand around to make it as effective as I wanted.
“I’m really proud of you for putting your heart out there again with Charlie, but you need a woman in your life.”
That was the problem though, wasn’t it? I couldn’t have one without losing the other. If I allowed Emily into my life, Charlie would be hers, or else it would be a case of what I said before—if I tried to keep Charlie for myself, where would that leave Emily and me?
Suddenly it was as if a light clicked on inside my head. Not a very bright light, but a light all the same. But wouldn’t I lose her friendship, too? I hadn’t thought of that before. All I had focused on was us having a relationship not a friendship. But I didn’t want to lose her friendship. I’d just found it. Just found her. Why did I have to choose? Why couldn’t I have both?
“You know, if you and Emily did get together, then maybe both of you could have Charlie.”
I heard the words coming from Abbie’s mouth, but found it difficult to process them. How could we both have Charlie? I would be at my house, and she would be at hers. I wanted Charlie full time. A little voice squeaked inside my chest, “And you want Emily full time, too.”
“My head hurts. Can’t we just—”
“No. You need to talk about it, Ellie. You can’t keep crawling back under your anti-relationship rock. I know you’ve been hurt. I know losing Toby was tough…and losing Mum and Dad.”
“I don’t give a shit about those two.” Abbie didn’t comment, as it was obvious I did care.
“You need to let Emily in. If it is just sex, then it’s just sex, but you have to start living again, baby.”
“You ladies finished?” The barman had decided Facebook wasn’t as interesting as the two women in the corner, and he had come to clear our table. “Can I do anything else for you?”
I really wanted to say, “Yeah. Fuck off,” but I’m too much of a lady.
“Would you like…some dessert?”
I just glared at him until he departed.
“I want a sundae with nuts,” Abbie said, whilst trying to conjure an expression of fake sadness, like her world would be crushed if she didn’t get her dessert.
Huh? How did we go from talking about sex to sundaes?
“And chocolate sauce.” Abbie let go of my hand and stood. “I’ll be the hunter this time. You just sit and think.”
I didn’t. I sat and fiddled. I sat and shuffled. I sat and leaned on and off the table until Abbie returned.
“I’m on a diet,” she announced.
“And?”
“A little of what you fancy makes the whole world better.” Abbie sipped her Diet Coke and looked smug. “Why deprive yourself of life’s little pleasures when indulging now and again makes everything slot back into place.”
What was she talking about?
“I ordered yours without nuts.”
“Why? You know I love nuts.”
“Because you are a lesbian, and lesbians don’t eat nuts.”
Of course she said that just at the time the ice cream arrived, much to the delight of the barman, who was undoubtedly now going to be our waiter for the evening.
Both sundaes were covered in nuts.
“Gotcha.” She picked up her spoon. “See? You can have both—ice cream and nuts.”
I just shook my head and gave her a look of sympathy. “You’re nuts.”
“Eat. Or I will be forced to eat it for you.”
So I did.
Chapter Eight
I couldn’t sleep properly. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw images of things I didn’t want to remember. Why is it when you can’t sleep, you can never think of all the good stuff in your life? But then again, what good stuff?
Abbie. Lily. Rob, on occasion. Joking. Charlie. And… Emily. But the last two could so easily fail to become the “good stuff” in my life. They could so easily become the stuff that I packed away and hid at the back of my wardrobe to collect dust and if-onlys.
I watched dawn break and lay there for a little while longer before dragging my ass out of bed. I had work to do at Emily’s, and then we would be off to the kennels to see Charlie before lunch. It was only a week before the decision about who was going to have him, and I was half excited and half shitting my pants. But at least I would soon know, one way or the other. Unfortunately. Or fortunately. Or back again to unfortunately. I could go on, but I think you’ve got the gist of it.
By the time I arrived, Emily was already outside and trimming down a door. I sat in the truck and watched her with riveted fascination as she guided the jigsaw through the wood, her goggles firmly in place, her ponytail bobbing with her effort. Once again I was blown away by her. W
hy did she have to be so beautiful? So wonderful? So…so…Emily.
“Morning, you!”
In my cloud of longing, I hadn’t even noticed the jigsaw being shut down. Emily had pushed the goggles up and was grinning at me whilst waving the power tool in the air.
“Did you get the supplies for the back fence?”
Yes. But they were still in my back garden covered by a tarpaulin.
I grinned the grin of a woman who was trying her damnedest to cover her lie. “I’ve got to pick it up in a little while.”
Emily set the jigsaw down and came over to me.
“Shouldn’t take me long to collect it from B&Q.”
“Great! Can I cadge a lift? I’ve got to pick up some supplies myself, and it would save time if we went together.”
Shiiiiiiiiiiit. “I could get them for you. Save even more time.” I could hear the pleading tone in my voice; it was a pity she couldn’t.
“Don’t worry about me.”
I opened my mouth to spew out another pile of shite, but she continued, “Then we could go straight to see Charlie. It’s on the way.”
True. But that didn’t change the fact I had lied to her the previous day, did it?
“Want a cuppa?”
She didn’t even wait for my response. She was on her way to the house before I could form the words “Fucking hell.” Excuse the slip into rude vernacular, although I believe you already knew I tend to swear quite readily.
It was the galvanised nails scenario all over again, but this time the shoe was on the other foot—actually on the other foot of the other person, that person being me. Emily had once changed our time slot and pretended it was because she had to collect a special delivery. Her lie was a little more acceptable, though. She had done so because she had wanted to invite me to lunch. I, on the other hand, had lied so I could run babbling to my big sister about why I couldn’t sort my life out into clear cut categories. At least I got ice cream.