A Good Woman

by Liz Cronkhite

  “I’m so sorry, Aly. Just know you don’t disappoint here. On the contrary, you’re a pleasant surprise. You live up to the hype.”

  The hype? Aly squirmed inwardly. “Anita?”

  “Anyone I talked to about you. Employers, friends. Everyone loves and admires you. Someone somewhere got something right with you.”

  Aly was more comfortable speaking well about others. “My dad and my brother have always been great to me. And the rest of the family, especially Gemma’s family and my aunt Paula. I always knew I was loved.”

  “Don’t forget your part. You made the choice to be like them and not like your mother.”

  The conversation was getting too uncomfortable for Aly. Erika seemed to see in her more than was there. She felt a growing panic that, just as with Linda, Erika had expectations she could never meet. She had to get away and headed toward her room.

  “Well, maybe you don’t know me well enough yet,” she said over her shoulder. And with that, she proved she would choose to be like her mother when it suited her.

  19

  For Aly, October began with an email from Toy. The heading screamed, “WHERE ARE YOU???” And the screaming continued in the body, “I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO CALL YOU. IF THIS IS STILL YOUR EMAIL CALL ME.”

  It had been many months since she had heard from Toy and she had not included her when she sent out her new phone number. But this screaming through email was not necessary. Toy had many ways to find out her new number: Anita, Cass, Aly’s family. It was manipulative drama.

  She emailed back, “New home, new job, new number, all is well” and she provided her new number. There was no response from her.

  Aly was turning thirty five on the nineteenth. In another year she’d be sliding the slope to forty. It was time, she thought, for a new haircut. She had let her hair grow out from what her mother once called the “shaggy little boy from the seventies” hairstyle because she was uncertain what she wanted. But the email from Toy was the impetus she needed to decide. She went with a short, shaggy pixie with a deep side part.

  She did it on a Saturday. And when she got home, Erika, who was sorting mail at the bar, glanced up, said hello, did a double take, and burst into a gorgeous smile that knocked the wind out of Aly.

  “I like it,” she beamed. “It’s adorable.”

  Aly felt herself blush, but was saved by the girls. They knew she was getting a new hairstyle and when they heard her come in they squealed in anticipation, hurrying over from the couch to see. “It’s so cute!” Whitney said approvingly.

  “Word!” Lu agreed. She circled Aly to get the whole effect and when she reached the back she burst out, “What’s that?” She had found the tattoo on the back of her neck. It had been covered before.

  “It’s Wong in Chinese characters,. My brother and I got the same tattoo when I turned twenty one.” The tattoo was three blue black horizontal lines intersected down the middle by a vertical line. She explained that Wong could be spelled in many ways in Chinese and in English. “W-O-N-G. W-A-N-G. H-U-A-N-G. This symbol is known as the ‘three-stroke Wong’ and it means ‘King’.”

  “That is so lit,” Lu said. “I’m going to get a tattoo as soon as I can.”

  “When you’re forty,” Erika murmured, seemingly busy with the mail.

  “Of what?” Whitney said. “A mill? Because some ancestor of ours came from a mill town? Or the owner of one of our ancestors came from a mill town.” They were deep into their genealogy in school now.

  “What does ‘Allende’ mean?” Lu asked.

  “‘On the other side’. Our whole last name means ‘mill town on the other side’”, Whitney smirked.

  “Sorry I didn’t provide you with a more interesting last name,” Erika laughed. Aly headed for her room and Erika called out to her, “You know what it means when a woman cuts her hair, Aly. She’s ready to change her life.”

  “I thought I did that already.”

  "That change came to you. This one is from you.

  ◆◆◆

  For her birthday, the Milton-Allende’s gave Aly a gift certificate to Restore at the Lakes, a day spa on west Sahara. So the Saturday before her birthday she took herself for a day of pampering, something she had never done before.

  The interior of the spa was much like Erika’s living room, white with cool blue and green accents. The burble from a grey stone water fall started the relaxing as soon as she entered the lavender scented reception area. What must it be like to work here?

  As she stepped up to the counter to address the receptionist, a boyish woman, a little younger than herself and dressed in the white and blue uniform of the spa, stepped out from the back. She was white, slim, a little taller than Aly, with dark brown hair cut very short on the sides, with a wavy mass on top. Her eyes, ocean blue, were beautiful in color and expression.

  Aly’s eyes met hers and they held as the woman passed behind the receptionist and through another door. Aly stood for a moment with her mouth gaping open.

  “May I help you?” the receptionist asked and the spell was broken. She showed her the gift certificate and was given a menu of options. She bought a package that included a scented, warm bath, a deep tissue massage, and a facial.

  And so began what should have been two of the most relaxing hours of her life. But the relaxation was interrupted so regularly by sightings of the adorable attendant that she realized they were not accidents. They intersected each time Aly moved from one room to another. And the attendant came into Aly’s rooms under pretexts like restocking towels or lotion or hot rocks. And each time their eyes would meet and lock. No, this was flirting, not coincidence. So Aly found that she could never fully relax in anticipation of another look.

  But this was not a bad thing. It had been a very long time since she felt an attraction like this. She didn’t count sometimes losing the ability to breath or her heart accelerating around Erika. These she considered generic biological responses to a very attractive, but cold and, anyway, unobtainable woman. These feelings for the adorable attendant, however, felt like a possibility.

  She was soaked, oiled, rubbed, and thoroughly dug into, so she was relaxed but foggy-headed when she changed into her street clothes afterward. She wondered if she was bold enough to ask out the adorable attendant. All the doubts were there: What if she’s not gay and I’m misreading her? Maybe she thinks I look like someone she knows. Maybe she’s nearsighted and just happened to be looking my way each time. What if she’s gay but not available? She didn’t even have her name. She tried to read her tag when she passed close by once but it was in a dark hall and she couldn’t make it out. And now, when Aly was leaving, she was nowhere to be found.

  She emerged into a mild October day, conflicted. No one online had sparked her interest like this. But could she just go back in, describe the adorable attendant to the receptionist, and ask to see her? And then what? Ask her out right there? It was too exposing.

  ◆◆◆

  “Earth to Aly.”

  “What?” Aly looked at Erika. They were in the kitchen Sunday morning and Aly’s mind was miles away. Really, it was at Restore at the Lakes.

  “That must’ve been some massage. Are you done with that plate?”

  She looked down at her empty plate and handed it to Erika. “Thank you.”

  But then her mind was off again, thinking about the adorable attendant. Should she pursue this or let it go? It was frightening, but she had to get back out there. Or did she? What did she want? Something serious seemed so, well, dangerous. Just thinking about trusting again made her stomach churn.

  And, anyway, was she in any position now, working for the Miltons, to consider something serious? But then there was what Anita said about dating to just get used to it.

  And if she did find someone she learned to trust over time, did she want to be married again? Yes, she thought she did, someday, if not now. She liked being married. She liked having a partner in life. Or at least the illusion of it, because of cou
rse Toy wasn’t truly a partner, was she? But, yes, Aly valued what she thought they had. And if she wanted that again, someday, she was going to have to get back out there and start moving toward it.

  She cleared her throat. “After your divorce how long before you dated again?”

  Erika was loading the dishwasher. “Eight months, I think? Too soon. I wasn’t ready. It was a while again after that.” She caught on. “Oh, is that where you are? Have you met someone?” She smiled at the idea.

  “Not really. I saw someone. It’s the first time I’ve been interested.”

  “Ah. At the spa?”

  “Yeah. She works there. But I didn’t get her name. Oh, hell, I don’t even know if she…but I think she was flirting with me.”

  “What does she look like?” Whitney called from the couch. The girls had the television on an absurd teenage obstacle course competition and were absorbed in their devices. Or so Aly thought. She described the adorable attendant. “What does she do there?”

  Aly realized Whitney was looking up the adorable attendant on her tablet and went to look over her shoulder. She had found the website for Restore at the Lakes and was looking at the employees. “Is this her?”

  It was. “Kylie Eben,” Aly read.

  Whitney quickly went to Facebook and found her. “She’s thirty two and studying to be a massage therapist while she works as an attendant at Restore at the Lakes and waits tables at Mimi’s Café.”

  “Industrious,” Erika said from the kitchen. “Does she even have time to date?”

  Whitney handed Aly her tablet. “Here. Send her a message.”

  She backed away. “No way!”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s too…I’m a complete stranger to her. I was thinking of waiting for her after work one day.”

  “You mean, like, stalk her?”

  Aly hadn’t looked at it like that. Could she just contact her on Facebook? That wasn’t too intrusive?

  “Too bad you don’t have her phone number,” Erika said. “You could get her with your sexy husky boy voice. She wouldn’t be able to refuse.”

  Aly froze. Sexy? Women often commented on her voice. Usually it was positive, though not always. But the Ice Queen found it sexy? She felt uneasy.

  “Here,” Whitney said, poking at the tablet. “I’ll go to your page and you can send her a message. Put in your password.”

  “Aly might want to do that in private, honey,” Erika said.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Aly said, a mass of confused feelings about Kylie Eben, contacting a stranger on Facebook, and Erika thinking her voice was sexy. She went to her room to sort out her feelings.

  20

  Why would it be significant that Erika thought her voice was sexy? Aly wondered as she straightened up her room. She clearly thought there were attractive things about Erika. If she didn’t find something attractive about a woman right off, she did after she’d known her a while. She’s a lesbian. She’s attracted to women. Why would Erika be any different? They were just random bits of attraction that amounted to nothing. On both sides.

  With Erika out of the way, she was free to think about contacting Kylie on Facebook. What did she have to lose? Maybe a little pride if it went wrong. But if she didn’t contact her she could be missing out on an opportunity. She went to Facebook on her laptop, found her, and sent a private message. “Ignore this if it’s inappropriate. I’m Aly Wong and I saw you at Restore at the Lakes yesterday. I think we flirted. I’d like to see you again. Accept my Friending if you’re interested. If you do not I will leave you alone.” Then she pulled up a movie on Netflix, which she was unable to follow, and did her laundry.

  If Kylie was working, which seemed likely given what was on her Facebook page, she checked Facebook during lunch because that is when Aly’s friend request was accepted. She also sent a message. “Hi, Aly! I’m happy you contacted me. We *were* flirting! I was busy when you left and was sorry to miss you. I could not contact you because of company policy. I’d like to see you again too. Tonight too soon? I’m out at 5 and we could just hang out.”

  Aly’s heart was pounding and she felt ridiculously happy. I’m like a teenager. She liked that Kylie followed the rules at work. It showed integrity. But something about the “just hang out” felt…off. It was what she did in high school. She’d prefer more concrete plans, something like, “Let’s meet at such-and-such at X p.m.” But wasn’t she just quibbling? What was the difference if they decided what to do now or when they met? Maybe she was just looking for something to be wrong. She wrote back, “I will be outside at 5.”

  She told the Miltons she had a date that night, but did not mention the “just hang out”. She would be embarrassed to say it in front of Erika. Whitney and Lu were, of course, excited. In fact, they were incredibly supportive and encouraging, as always. Whitney even said she was proud of Aly.

  Erika was amused at her girls’ responses and only called out “Good luck” when Aly left to meet Kylie later that afternoon.

  Aly wore blue jeans and tucked in a red cotton V-neck T-shirt. She brought a light, grey fleece jacket for the cool October evening. Did employees leave the spa by the front door or another entrance? She parked in a place near the spa that would cover all contingencies and leaned against her car so Kylie could find her easily.

  Promptly at five the front door opened and Kylie emerged in black jeans and a long short sleeved grey T-shirt bunched at the hip. She spotted Aly right away, beamed a dimpled smile, and walked toward her, one hand in a pocket. She looked a little shy as she said, “Hi!”

  “Hello,” Aly said, her mouth dry. She had thought of something they could do. “Do you want to go to Starbucks and talk?” she asked, pointing to the one across the street.

  “Sure.”

  Why do I feel sixteen? Aly asked herself as they crossed the street together. “How was your day?” God, is that the best I can do?

  “Better, once I heard from you. I was really sorry to miss you yesterday.” Kylie had a medium range voice that could belong to a young boy or a teenage girl. “I got busy just when you must’ve left.”

  It was a dimly lit Starbucks, with the usual minimalist light wood, steel, and glass fixtures, and shelves cluttered with coffees and their accouterments. They ordered their coffees, each paying for her own, and sat on high stools at a small, round table against a wall.

  Aly continued to take charge and drew Kylie out. She learned that she had not updated her Facebook page since she dropped her job at Mimi’s Cafe. It had been too much on top of working part time at Restore and going to school. She felt the job to keep was the one where she was likely to find employment when she finished school in three months. She had moved in with her sister - also a lesbian - and her sister’s girlfriend to make expenses. Aly could relate to the need to rely on family for a while.

  She found Kylie engaging once she relaxed and was animated. Despite her open flirting with Aly the day before she had an appealing shy gentleness. Aly told her about herself, including that this was her first date since her divorce two years ago. “Wow,” was all she said. Aly wasn’t certain if that was for Kylie being her first date or for it having been two years. Maybe it was for both.

  She subsequently discovered that Kylie had never been in a relationship longer than two years. The closest she came to a commitment was when she lived with someone for eighteen months.

  Kylie asked her if she liked bar bands. She liked to go to bars where new bands were playing. Usually they were pretty bad and that could be funny, but sometimes there was something real and exciting and she liked the idea she was in on the ground floor of a group that could catch on. “Have you ever heard of Raging Horses?”

  “I think so. Aren’t they alternative or indie?”

  “Yeah, a little retro-grungy. I saw them when they were nothing…” With that, Kylie was off and running, and Aly could see this was a real passion for her. In the end she asked Aly if she wanted to join her that night
to see a new band at a bar nearby. “We could have some dinner, if you like bar food, and see a little of the band before it gets too late. I know you get up early.”

  Why not? Let’s give this a chance.

  She was home just after eleven. Everyone was in bed. The greasy bar food had given her indigestion and the music had been terrible. The band couldn’t seem to decide who they were, playing covers of everything from country to alternative rock and some of their own music, which seemed just as unfocused. Kylie, though, had enjoyed how terrible they were, and Aly had enjoyed watching Kylie. She was not just nice to look at but she was sweet and had a certain innocence. Is that just another word for immature?

  As soon as she stepped into the house from the garage and her life there came rushing over her, Aly was struck by the contrast between Kylie and Erika. One was, despite her age, still somewhere in young womanhood, and the other was fully a woman in every way. But she felt it was unfair to compare. There was a ten year age difference between them, and Erika was leagues beyond Kylie in so many ways. And, of course, beyond Aly, so who was she to compare them?

  But still, she couldn’t help but feel that if she had met Kylie just after her divorce the fit would have been better. She identified with what she saw as her drifty-ness. Her going to massage school was like Aly’s going to medical billing school. It was an attempt to find, if not a calling or career, a more solid form of employment.

  Yet, Aly felt, that somehow since then something had shifted in herself. Kylie was more like who Aly had been than who she was now, even though she couldn’t identify who that was yet. But there was something comfortable about being the more mature one in relation to another that drew her. She was willing to see where it went.

  She saw Kylie twice more that week, on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings, her days off from the spa. And both occasions improved on her first impressions of her. They went out to dinner in nice restaurants, taking turns paying, and a more mature side of Kylie emerged. They discussed politics, books, and movies, and Aly discovered that she was a deeper thinker than she initially seemed. She had, no doubt, just been nervous that first time. Aly felt a deepening interest.