by Harper Bliss
Wine was poured generously, pleasantries exchanged, and Kristin soon learned she truly shouldn’t have been nervous. Sheryl had a way of putting not only her but the people around them at ease. Soon Betty’s girlfriend was talking to Cassie, Betty and Sheryl engaged in a back-and-forth about the meaning of something their mutual boss Aimee had said, which left Kristin to engage Caitlin in conversation. She knew Caitlin and Sheryl had dated briefly once, which intimidated her further, but as it turned out, Caitlin was much like Sheryl and had refined the art of skipping awkward small talk and launching into a big topic headfirst.
“I see you shave your legs,” she said, leaning back and examining Kristin’s body below her skirt.
“Er, yes,” Kristin said.
“What’s your motivation?”
Kristin quirked up her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Do you shave them to conform to what society—and by society I mainly mean the male gaze—expects of you or just simply for your own esthetic reasons?”
“I have quite honestly never thought about that.” Kristin vaguely remembered her mother putting a razor in the palm of her hand and showing her how to rid her legs of hair. She’d seen her mother do it, then she was doing it herself. She had never questioned why her father didn’t go through the ordeal—because it could surely feel like that from time to time.
“If you do think about it, you will find that there are many things women do, just out of habit, or because we’ve been doing it for such a long time, that men don’t.”
“I just like the feel of smooth skin.” Kristin didn’t quite know what to say.
“That might be so, but if you hadn’t started shaving in the first place, your skin would still be smooth regardless.”
Sheryl turned her head toward them, one eyebrow cocked up.
“Your speech has come fifteen years too late, Caitlin,” she said, slapping her friend on the shoulder. “She gave me the same one when we first met. I’ve since told her many times to work on her opening lines.”
Caitlin waved her off. “The little things are important. It’s only by changing small things that bigger things will shift.”
“I agree with you wholeheartedly,” Sheryl said. “But this is not a LAUS gathering, nor a department meeting.”
“I’m just getting to know Kristin better,” Caitlin said. “This is my way.”
“You could try letting her get a word in edgewise,” Sheryl teased. “I hear it’s really helpful to let people speak when you want to get to know them.”
Kristin enjoyed the banter. The ease between them. How Caitlin rolled her eyes and said, “Next you’re going to tell me this is why I’m single while you know very well I’m not looking for a relationship. In fact—” She turned her attention back to Kristin. “Did you know that monogamy—”
“Stop!” Sheryl shouted. “You said the M-word. How long have we been sitting here?” She looked at her watch ostentatiously. “Not even half an hour.”
Caitlin bent over the table and whispered to Kristin. “I only said it to wind her up. She’s so easy.” She threw in a wink, and just like that, a deeper rapport was forged between Kristin and Sheryl’s best friend.
“I hear you’re taking Sheryl to meet your parents,” Caitlin said, after Sheryl had picked up her conversation with Betty again.
Kristin watched Sheryl from the corner of her eye, took in the way she gestured her hands as she spoke, eager to make a point. Warmth spread through her body as she watched Sheryl speak. There was so much to learn about another person just by hearing them talk to a friend. All Kristin saw in that moment was Sheryl’s kindness, her willingness to listen, her eagerness to joke, her way of explaining. There was no sign of the other Sheryl that must be hiding somewhere deep inside. The abandoned twelve-year-old. The hurt teenager who had to make sense of a world without her mother.
“Earth to Kristin,” Caitlin said, waving a hand in front of Kristin’s face. “Good grief, I get you’re in love, but must you really be staring at her like that?” She chuckled and leaned over the table again. “But, yeah, I get it. She’s a real stunner, isn’t she?”
A blush crept up Kristin’s cheeks, heated up her neck. “She swept me off my feet.”
“You did the same to her,” Caitlin said.
Kristin’s blush intensified.
“They loved you,” Sheryl said. “Which is completely understandable.”
They were walking home from the bar to Sheryl’s flat, where they always ended up staying. Sheryl had only been to Kristin’s place once, after she’d dropped her off on their way back from the cabin. Sheryl had declared Kristin’s apartment looked ready to be photographed for the new Ikea catalog.
“I’ll get the down-low on what Cassie thought of you soon enough. It must be weird for her because she’s never actually seen me with another woman.”
“I hope my crowd was not too rowdy for her.”
“Rowdiness is not much of an issue for Cassie.” Kristin stopped, tugged at Sheryl’s sleeve. “I’m not very experienced, which is why I’m wondering. Is this how it’s supposed to go? Is this what really falling in love feels like?”
“What do you feel?” Sheryl came to stand in front of her, head slanted, something sparkling in her eyes. “Just so that I can confirm.”
Kristin chuckled. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and translate them into words that could actually be said. “Like, for the first time ever, everything is falling into place. Everything is right. Meeting your friends tonight was right. You being about to meet my parents is right. Like it should be. Us walking along the street on the way to your apartment is right.”
Sheryl stepped a little closer. “Just right?” Kristin could feel her breath on her skin. “Not spectacular? Or so right you feel your heart could burst out of your chest any moment, just because it’s beating for all the right reasons?”
“You have a fondness for hyperbole.” Kristin kissed Sheryl on the cheek.
“Or maybe just a more expressive way of explaining my feelings.”
“As well as a desire to always have the last word.” Kristin gazed into Sheryl’s eyes.
Sheryl quirked up her eyebrows but didn’t say anything.
“What?” Kristin asked.
“Nothing, just proving a point,” Sheryl said before kissing Kristin fully on the mouth, in the middle of the sidewalk.
Chapter Ten
“She doesn’t drink?” Kristin’s mother repeated.
“No.”
“Oh.” She twirled the bottle of red wine around in her hands. “So I should put this away?”
“No, it’s fine. We can drink. Sheryl just isn’t much of a drinker.” It suddenly struck Kristin that Sheryl was about to see her very origin. That she would look at her mother and father and could try to piece the puzzle of Kristin together. Kristin would never be able to do that with Sheryl. She would never actually see where she came from.
“Of course we can’t. We can’t have a guest in our house and sit around drinking alcohol while she doesn’t drink.” It also struck Kristin that her mother might be very nervous about this. She hadn’t asked much about Sheryl. She had just inquired about her dietary habits and was only then, fifteen minutes before Sheryl was about to arrive—and Kristin hoped feverishly that she would be on time, which, she had already learned, wasn’t always the case with Sheryl—asking about which wine to serve, Shiraz or Merlot?
“Mom, I’m telling you it’s fine. If anything, you look like you could do with a drink.”
“Is she a recovering alcoholic? Because then it would truly be insensitive.”
“No, she’s not. You should be happy. In his practice, Dad is always advising people to drink less. Sheryl will drink a small glass to be polite, if she feels like it, but that’s it. She just doesn’t like alcohol.” Kristin sympathized with Sheryl more. So many social situations, out of sheer habit, revolved around drinking. The flack she must get for refusing. And how strange that it was so un
common for people to do so.
“Okay, if you say so. And yes, I think I might have a glass. Would you like one?”
“Sure.”
Kristin waited by her mother’s side while she poured the wine. Her father was out on the deck, lighting the barbecue. For some reason, they believed they had to serve Sheryl Australia’s national dish, despite nearly always having Korean food when they ate alone.
“Cheers.” Kristin sought her mother’s gaze when she clinked the belly of her wineglass against hers, but it was kept from her. Which made her realize that it was a good thing this was happening so fast, lest her parents intentionally forgot their daughter was a lesbian again. They had to see it with their own eyes to actually believe it was true. If not, a residue of hope would always remain. Hope for a big Korean wedding. For grandchildren. For their child not to be discriminated against, Kristin guessed. At least, that’s what Sheryl had told her. “Nine times out of ten, it’s not disapproval but fear that keeps parents from freely accepting their children’s sexual preference.”
They drank in silence, her mother nervously clattering about, adjusting the position of the cutlery on the dining table. It was a beautiful summer night and they could have easily eaten outside, but for some unvoiced reason, her mother had deemed that inappropriate and set the table in the dining room.
Kristin knocked her glass of wine back more eagerly than she was used to. She had confidence in Sheryl being gracious and charming, but not so much in her parents, to whom this was all new. It was new to her as well.
To Sheryl’s surprise, it was Kristin’s father who was the real stunner. Dr. Park was a tall man with impossibly smooth skin and the same sharp cheekbones as his daughter. He was also the warmest in his welcome, while the other Dr. Park, Kristin’s mother, took on a more serving role. From what Kristin had told her, however, Sheryl knew that was not the usual way in the Park household. Kristin hadn’t spilled that much about her parents—probably because of what Sheryl had told her about her own—but she had said that because her parents were both equally busy, they tried to divide all household chores evenly.
Kristin’s father ushered her in, handed the bouquet of flowers Sheryl had brought to his wife, and escorted Sheryl straight onto the deck to admire his barbecue.
“Don’t you think she’s a beauty?” he asked.
“Don’t mind him and his barbie,” Kristin said. “It’s his midlife crisis present to himself.”
Sheryl didn’t know much about barbecues, but perhaps Dr. Park was under the impression that she did. “Gorgeous,” she said.
“Can I offer you some tea?” Kristin’s mother asked, her voice high and tight.
“That would be lovely.” Sheryl shot her a smile. It was strange to, at the same time, meet two brand new people to her, and be bombarded by features that reminded her of Kristin, the woman she had gotten to know very intimately in the past few weeks.
They huddled around the barbecue, as though it was a big treat to see the man of the house grill sausages. Kristin and her father drank wine, while Kristin’s mother seemed to be greatly enjoying the tea she served. Sheryl stood in between them all, between the Parks, of which the older ones had magically produced the most divine child, a woman who made Sheryl’s head spin every time she looked at her fine features, her slightly upturned nose, that pout in her lips.
When she’d first met her ex-girlfriend Andrea’s parents, Sheryl had been convinced it would be awkward, that she wouldn’t know how to behave, because she barely remembered what it was like to be in the same room with the two people who had made you out of their love—or, at the very least, a night of passion together. But when Andrea had taken her home and introduced her to her parents, all the awkwardness had slipped away, as though it had never even been there in the first place, and Sheryl had talked and talked, making up for all the family time she had lost—albeit with another person’s parents.
It was the same that night. Sheryl struck up an easy conversation with Kristin’s father, while her mother hurried in and out of the kitchen. Mid sentence, she would catch Kristin’s eye, and notice how she stood there beaming. For both of them, in their own way, this was a big night.
“Can you keep an eye on these please, Sheryl?” Kristin’s father offered her the instrument he’d been handling the meat with. “Please excuse me for a moment.” With a graceful stride, he went inside.
“Christ,” Sheryl said. “That man is very serious about his sausages.”
“Everything rides on you not burning them,” Kristin said. “If you do, it’ll be West Side Story all over again.”
They stood there snickering, while a warm glow unfurled in Sheryl’s belly.
“They love me,” Sheryl whispered.
“So do I,” Kristin said, scooted a little closer and, just as her father came back out onto the terrace, planted a kiss on Sheryl’s cheek.
Kristin flinched as she heard him and put some distance between them. All he did was shoot them a big smile as he slapped Sheryl on the back casually, and began inspecting the meat again.
“This salad is wonderful. Which dressing did you use?” Sheryl asked Kristin’s mother.
While her mother rattled off all the ingredients—apple cider vinegar, sesame seeds, olive oil—Kristin tried to gauge the level of stress around the table. The person who seemed most relaxed was Sheryl, who had already explained in understandable language what exactly she was writing her doctorate’s dissertation about.
While her father had been in his element when manning the barbecue, expecting Sheryl to be just as besotted with the equipment as he was, his jaw was now set and he chewed in a very controlled, tense manner.
But it didn’t matter because Kristin was in the middle of an evening she had always believed would never come. She had brought her girlfriend home to meet her parents and no big dramas had transpired. Sure, there were some uncomfortable silences, which Sheryl always quickly filled, and her dad had gone a little overboard with the barbecue bonding, while her mother had played the part of zealous Korean housewife a little to the extreme as a way to hide her nerves, but it could only get better from then on.
Moreover, Kristin had the—perhaps silly—idea that she could give Sheryl a sense of family. That once her parents had gotten completely past the idea of their daughter being in a relationship with another woman, her parents’ house, the home where she’d grown up in, could become a safe, homely haven for Sheryl as well; could give her something she’d missed since the age of twelve. Because, if anything, that’s what Kristin wanted to give to Sheryl. A warm place to come home to. The sort of love she’d received from her parents: unconditional, regardless of expectations.
Kristin might have been nervous about coming out, about disappointing her parents and the dreams they might have had for her, but, deep down, she had always known that, even though it would make them uncomfortable and perhaps even sad for a while, they would still be there. As long as they lived, she would have their support, no matter who she was. A thought Kristin wouldn’t have been so stupidly grateful for if she had been sitting at that dining table with anyone else but Sheryl, whose father was still alive but, from what Sheryl had told her, didn’t care one bit who his daughter fell in love with. Even if Kristin’s parents had openly disapproved of her relationship with Sheryl, Kristin would still have gotten more than the total indifference Sheryl received from her only surviving parent.
Kristin sipped from her wine, looked around the table again, and heaved a sigh of contentment.
“Would you believe I’ve never had kimchi before,” Sheryl said. “How terribly un-worldly of me.”
Kristin’s mother shook her head and looked at Kristin, a small smile on her lips. “How dare you bring someone like that into our home,” she said.
Kristin chuckled and heard her father utter a hint of laughter as well.
“Dad’s just sad you can’t put it on the barbecue,” she said. “Though I’m sure he has tried.”
K
ristin found Sheryl’s gaze and looked into her eyes, melting a little on the inside. Any other woman would not have had this effect on her parents, of that she was sure. Sheryl was charming them the way she had charmed Kristin. Just by being herself.
Sheryl shot her a quick wink, then refocused her attention on the conversation.
One phone call, Kristin thought, a few minutes alone with that smooth voice in her ears, had changed everything.
2007
Chapter Eleven
“But it’s our anniversary,” Sheryl said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her tone.
“I know. I’m so sorry, babe.” Kristin didn’t look very sorry to Sheryl. What she did look like was in need of a good night’s sleep. But there she went again. Filling her suitcase with the same suits she always took with her on a business trip.
“Are you?” Sheryl was busy at work too, but no matter how many hours she worked, it always seemed to pale in comparison to Kristin’s ambition and zeal to make it to CEO of Sterling Wines some day. If the promotion to Global Sales Manager she’d gotten a few months earlier was any indication of the future, Sheryl hoped, for Kristin’s sake as well as her own, that that day would never come.
“What’s going on?” Kristin took a break from packing. “You’re not usually like this.”
“It’s our tenth anniversary, that’s what’s going on. That you even have to ask.” Sheryl despised herself a little. This was not how she wanted things to be between them—and she didn’t want to play this nagging part in their relationship—but she wasn’t the one packing her bags again for the third time in the last two months. And while Kristin would be on her way to Bali or Sri Lanka or some other exotic destination, Sheryl would be home alone, left to the mercy of her demons, drinking a glass of fizzy water and watching TV to commemorate the day.
“This is work, babe. What can I say?”