Like a Book

by Bette Hawkins

  Trish’s heart was beating hard, like she was an animal caught in a trap. Keeping her mask on and trying to be okay was wearing thin, and it didn’t take much to crack it.

  Jodie waited patiently while Trish gathered her thoughts.

  “Actually, there have been some things going on. There was a woman that I was interested in, and things went bad. It was all my fault.”

  They both looked over their shoulders as one of the assistants came in. Trish’s fingers toyed with the rim of her mug until he was gone.

  “You mean the girl with the dark hair, who used to come in here a lot? The one who I saw you with at the café that time?”

  Trish cleared her throat, unsure whether to confirm or deny it.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s just that…well it was always evident that there was something going on there. Between the two of you.”

  “Were we that obvious?” Trish replied. She wondered who else had noticed it.

  “Only to those of us who know what to look for. I saw the way you two looked at each other and then when I saw you at the café, I did wonder if you were together.”

  “Her name’s June. She’s a writer.”

  “That’s right, I’d forgotten her name. Anne told me. So, what happened between you and June? Did you break up?”

  Trish shifted in her chair. There were so many things about their story that she would never want to tell Jodie. “I don’t know, we weren’t ever together. It’s hard to explain. It’s all just a little bit complicated.”

  “Complicated? That’s what the kids are calling it nowadays, I know. In my experience, things are only as complicated as you make them. If you did something wrong, apologize, and if she did something wrong, forgive her. Work through it.”

  “I appreciate the advice but unfortunately I don’t think things can always be fixed with an apology. Not when you’ve acted like I have.”

  Jodie nodded, but Trish could see that she wasn’t convinced. “They can’t always, but if you’ve done something wrong you should apologize, whether you think you’ll be forgiven or not. If it’s the right thing you should do it, and then as a bonus you can have a clear conscience,” Jodie said.

  “You have strong opinions on this sort of stuff, huh?”

  “I didn’t get this far in life without learning a few things. I especially haven’t lasted in a relationship for twenty-five years without knowing what I’m doing. Trust me, an apology costs you nothing and it can never do any harm.”

  “Well, thank you. It means a lot that you care enough to try and help me,” Trish said.

  Jodie nodded, satisfied that she had gotten her point across.

  Trish returned to her work, Jodie’s words drifting across her mind throughout the afternoon. The relationship that she’d built with June had always been ambiguous, transforming from friendship into something more and then back again. The whole time, June had done nothing but go with the flow, though only a fool would think that June was okay with all that had happened.

  It was clear that by the end, Trish’s behavior was hurting her. Yet it had never occurred to Trish to apologize properly, and now she wondered why that was. It had just always been easier to bury her head in the sand and hope that things would work out, exactly like she’d done her entire life. It was too scary to tell June how she felt, to talk about what she’d been doing.

  If she was honest, she could admit that she always thought that June would let her get away with things. June was so easygoing and tolerant; it was as though nothing ever bothered her. Or was that just a convenient way of seeing things?

  It hit her all at once, how right Jodie was. Trish couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing June again, but she especially could not bear the thought of never getting the chance to right the wrongs that she had committed. She needed desperately for June to know how sorry she was, for everything.

  * * *

  June and Ollie sat side by side on the sofa, watching Married At First Sight. They both claimed to hate reality TV, but they always watched whenever they had the chance.

  Ollie was screaming with laughter at the scene of a couple fighting, the camera following them around a room as they yelled at one another. It was cut together with talking head shots of the woman explaining why her new husband wasn’t meeting her needs. “You just could not make this shit up. Did you hear what she just said?”

  “It’s all fake anyway, you’re so gullible,” June said, her arms crossed across her chest. Usually she would be laughing right along with him, but tonight the tone of the show was hitting her the wrong way. It felt mean-spirited.

  Ollie didn’t reply. She glanced over at him to see that he was now looking at the screen and frowning.

  “I’m sorry, I know I’m being a drag.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  They sat watching the rest of the show in silence.

  It was nearly two weeks since she’d had spent the night with Trish, and it wasn’t getting any easier. Trish still occupied way too much real estate in June’s mind. She couldn’t deal with the free-floating dread about the whole situation. Whenever she took a moment to step back and examine what was going on underneath that feeling, she realized she was terrified she might never see Trish again.

  It was what she needed to do, though. She ignored Trish’s calls, burning with resentment about how much she wanted to answer them. The ringing phone was torture, and so was seeing Trish’s name on the screen. June fought the urge to text Trish and tell her to go away. It would only ruin the clean break she was trying to achieve.

  When the show finished, Ollie got up to go to the kitchen. June had a strange sensation when he left, that she’d been abandoned. She had been discovering these past couple of weeks how much her need for privacy was costing her. Not telling Ollie so that she wouldn’t risk his judgement of her also meant that there was nobody to comfort her. She had never felt so alone.

  With that thought came sudden tears, a torrent that she didn’t even know she had been holding back. She balled her fists while tears rolled quietly down her face, her throat aching. When Ollie came back into the room she didn’t notice, and covered her face too late. She couldn’t look at him, holding a hand over her eyes while she stared down at the floor. It occurred to her that this was the second time she had cried over Trish recently, and it was more than she had cried in the last five years put together.

  The warm weight of Ollie’s arm fell around her shoulders and she leaned into him. He held her while she burrowed her face into his shirt and cried. It took a while for her to be done, but at last the end came.

  She wiped her face with her shirt, getting her breath back.

  “Honey, I don’t know what to say,” Ollie said. “I’ve never even seen you cry before. It’s kind of scary. If you won’t tell me what’s wrong, I don’t know what I can do.”

  June leaned back on the seat and took a deep breath. “It’s about Trish.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “We slept together. I went over to her house one night, and it happened then, even though she was making me feel like shit again. I just really miss her. I know I’ve been so stupid. You must think I’m really stupid.”

  “I don’t think you’re stupid at all,” he said softly. “You really love her, don’t you?”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t.”

  He tilted his head and looked at her, his face open and uncritical. “June.”

  “I have strong feelings for her, I guess.”

  “Okay. Put it however you like, but I’ve never known you to act like this before. She’s gotten under your skin.”

  “So, what do I do now? How can I feel better?”

  “I wish I could tell you. You need to do whatever you need to do to get through this. Whatever you think is right.”

  June sighed. “I know I can’t see her anymore. It will get better over time, I just need to be patient.”

  They sat together, June burrowing her head into his sh
oulder.

  * * *

  June paced back and forth in front of her students, gesturing as she spoke. The only time she felt good lately was when she was teaching a class. Working at the bar could be exhausting but there were always lulls, quiet times in which she had too much space to think. Even the apathy of her students couldn’t change the fact that she felt useful in front of the classroom, fully engaged with it whether they were listening to her or she was working hard to get their attention.

  When she was teaching, she could see a future for herself, one in which she wasn’t so sad all the time. One in which she wasn’t labelling herself with some of the things Trish had written on her list. She couldn’t believe Trish thought she was unstable, or that she had a problem with June not having a steady enough job. The words stung every time they came into her mind.

  June checked the clock and saw that she had run a few minutes over time. She was on a roll about novels that spoke to the immigrant experience in Australia, and it was surprising that none of her students had interrupted her to tell her.

  “Sorry guys, I’ve cut into your break,” she said. “So, think about what I’ve just said, and I’d love to hear your reflections on it next class.”

  June watched with satisfaction as the students packed up their notebooks and pens.

  The good cry she’d had the night before left her a sense of peace. Her eyes were sore and tired but she’d needed to break a little, to stop bottling things up so much.

  “Thanks, miss,” Jacob said as he exited.

  June smiled. She wasn’t much older than a lot of her students, but to people like Jacob eight years or so made her ancient. June watched him go out into the hall. There was someone standing just outside of the classroom, watching her.

  June’s fists balled up and loosened again.

  How could Trish come here? This was one of the places that she counted on for privacy, depending on it for her worlds to remain separate. She looked down at her desk, putting her hand on it and staring at it where it lay. The last students left the room, packing up their things and chatting, and then it was quiet. Only then did she dare to look up again. Trish was still there, standing outside and looking in the window at her.

  June met her eye, then pointedly looked away, turning to clean the whiteboard behind her with angry strokes. Maybe by the time she was done, Trish would finally get the message and leave.

  She jumped when Trish’s voice came, close behind her. “June. I need to talk to you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was not as though she could ever forget what Trish looked like, but the force of her physical presence still took June’s breath away. There were dark circles around her eyes and her face was gaunt, but still she was the most beautiful woman June had ever seen. It was exactly why June needed her to stay away.

  At last, June found the strength to meet her eye. Trish’s expression stabbed through her. It was full of sadness, and June had the maddening impulse to hug her. Instead, June pulled her arms across her chest.

  “What are you doing here, Trish?”

  “I’m sorry. I know you’re working. I know I shouldn’t be here. I just…I didn’t know what else to do,” Trish said, her voice wavering. “Where did you go?”

  June shrugged. She needed to get through these few minutes, to harden herself enough to be able to walk away. Then she would be on her own again, and she could try to forget this desperate feeling.

  “It looked like your students were really into your class. You’re a good teacher, but then I always knew you would be.”

  June didn’t react, though the words gave her an unwanted sense of pride. It was pathetic that she still wanted Trish’s approval.

  “Are you doing anything now? I’m on my break so I don’t have much time, but I was wondering if you might come for a walk with me, so that we can talk?” Trish asked.

  June shook her head, shrugging again.

  “Can I please have the chance to explain things? I need to apologize to you. Even if it doesn’t change anything, I think it’s important. For both of us.”

  “Don’t try and tell me what’s important for me. I don’t think you’d even know what you were apologizing for,” June muttered, moving to walk past Trish.

  Trish put a hand on June’s arm, lightly encircling it with her fingers. “Please, June. Just a few minutes of your time. Then you never have to see me again. I won’t come back again, I promise.”

  They were staring at one another now. June let out a nervous laugh. She didn’t know whether she wanted to push Trish or kiss her, and it was terrifying.

  “Get your hand off me right now. I didn’t say you could touch me.”

  Trish’s touch dropped away. “Sorry. Please know that I care about you. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and you didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of all of it, all my confusion. I wish I could take it all back. I’d do anything for a fresh start.”

  “It’s too late. I could never forget the way you’ve treated me.”

  “I deserve that, one hundred percent. But don’t you think that what we have is worth fighting for? I think so.”

  “And what is it exactly that you think we have?”

  Trish moved closer to her, not touching her with anything other than her steady gaze, following June’s eyes as she tried to avert them. Trish’s shampoo smell was clean and sweet, familiar from when they’d been lying together. She remembered the last time they’d argued like this, and it was all she could do to not push into Trish again, to sink into her and soothe this aching need.

  “Something special. I know how mad you are at me right now, and you have every right to be, but maybe one day in the future things could be better between us. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  “That’s interesting. Don’t you worry that I don’t have enough stability? Seeing as I’m…what was it you wrote? Not a serious person? I mean, if we hang out, wouldn’t that mean you might have to hang out with my horrible friends?” June said.

  “How did you…” Trish took a step back, her eyes wide.

  “It was on the table, I knocked it off when I was leaving. I saw it all.”

  Trish looked back at her, openmouthed.

  “Don’t worry about it, I already knew that you felt that way. It wasn’t any big shock, considering the way you treated me. Still a strange thing to do, though, don’t you think? How would you like it if I wrote a list of everything I don’t like about you? How about the fact that you’re materialistic? That you have a great big stick up your ass? You’re too judgmental, how about that one?”

  Trish had tears standing in her eyes. June shook her head and looked away so that she wouldn’t have to see them. “I didn’t mean to say all that. Forget about it. Just leave me alone, okay?”

  “I’m so sorry June,” Trish said, her voice small.

  June pushed past her, out into the hall, and walked down the stairs as quickly as her legs would carry her.

  Trish returned to work with her stomach churning. It never occurred to her that June might have seen those stupid lists. She wanted to go home and look at them, to remind herself exactly what they said, but then she remembered she destroyed them. Trish wished desperately that she’d destroyed them sooner, or never written them at all.

  She put her hand on her stomach. It was over for them, June couldn’t have made that clearer, but it didn’t feel over to her. Trish couldn’t bear that June would always remember her as the person who’d written those things about her.

  Now June believed that Trish had added her up like a sum, and came out with the wrong answer. Writing the list had been so stupid, and she’d only done it because she had never been able to trust her own feelings. How could she convey to June how meaningless it had been to her?

  There was no coming back from this.

  “Good lord what’s wrong with you, are you sick?” Jodie asked. She put a hand to Trish’s forehead. “You look terrible.”

  Trish trie
d to laugh. “I’m fine, just feeling a bit queasy.”

  “Do you need to go home?”

  “You know what, I really should. I could do with a good lie down, I think.”

  “Look after yourself,” Jodie said, and it sounded like an order. Trish could tell by the way Jodie was looking at her that she wanted to ask more questions, but thankfully she let Trish go without another word.

  Trish went directly to Leigh’s place, unable to bear the thought of being by herself all afternoon.

  “Trish! What are you doing here?” Leigh said when she opened the door.

  “I think I might have put on some weight. Do you mind if I try the dress on again, just to reassure myself?”

  Leigh looked her up and down. “Okay, but I think you’re being silly, you don’t look like you’ve put on any weight to me.”

  “Can I just try it on, please?”

  Leigh crossed her arms and frowned. “What gives? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

  “No, I finished early. I thought you’d be happy about this, we don’t want to leave it ’til the last minute and find out it has to be altered, right?”

  “Riiiiight,” Leigh said. “Go then, it’s in the spare room.”

  Trish took the dress out of its garment bag. Leigh said that she wanted her bridesmaids to have something they’d want to wear again; it was a strapless burgundy gown that flared out at the hips. Trish slid the zip up her back. She wished she’d thought of a better reason for coming over out of the blue, because she really wasn’t in the mood for this.

  Leigh knocked on the door. Without waiting for an answer, she pushed her way into the room.

  “See I told you that you were being silly, if anything you’ve lost weight!”

  Trish looked back at her helplessly, and burst into tears.

  “Come on, get out of that thing and come out to the kitchen, I’ll make us some tea or something,” Leigh said.

  Trish cried as she stepped out of the dress, and was still crying when she explained what had happened with June. They stood at the kitchen counter, cradling cups of tea while Trish talked.