Man Enough

by Beth Burnett

  I haven’t seen Andy since last Friday after our respective bad dates. I decide to call her before work.

  “‘Lo.” She sounds half asleep.

  “Andy,” I say. “I miss you.”

  “Hey Davey baby,” she says. I can hear her smiling. “How’s the roommate situation going?”

  I’m whispering into my cell. “Andy, it’s not great. There’s cat hair everywhere. It can open my door. It leaps onto the handle and uses its body weight to open the door. I wake up every morning with this cat in my bed.”

  “Lucky cat,” Andy laughs deeply.

  “You are so funny.” I’m dripping sarcasm.

  “It’s a little funny!”

  “Okay, it’s a little funny. But this is terrible. I don’t understand why she won’t come stay at your place. You have plenty of room.”

  “I’m allergic to cats.”

  “You could take a pill.”

  “I can’t live with a woman.”

  “She’s your friend, not a woman.”

  “It’ll be fine,” Andy soothes. “I’m sure they’ll be back together before long. Have they been talking?”

  “No, Lynne has turned off her cell so Sarah calls the house phone. If I answer, she starts telling me all of the things I need to tell Lynne. Then Lynne starts yelling about how she doesn’t want to talk to her. Then Harry’s head starts spinning around.”

  Andy gives a deep, belly laugh. “Look, if it gets too crazy, you can come crash out here.”

  “I’m a woman, too. Can you live with me?”

  “You’re probably the only woman I could live with.”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  “In the meantime, I’ll stop by your house today and fix your door so the beast can’t sneak in.”

  “All right. I have to go to work. Janie’s tonight?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  I somehow managed to make it through the work day. I’m exhausted. Ron asked me for something twice today before it finally registered. At last I made it through, though, kissed Steve and Erik, waved to Ron and headed home.

  As I’m getting ready to go to Janie’s, I notice that Andy has changed my doorknob. You would have to have opposable thumbs to work this one. I make mental note to buy Andy’s first drink. I decide to throw on jeans, loafers, a t-shirt. Towel dry my hair until it is sticking up in all directions. I come out of the bedroom and Lynne is … wow. She’s wearing a tight, black knit mini-skirt with a kind of shimmery, multicolored, low-cut top. I glance down. Heels. Lynne is wearing heels? What about her Birkenstocks? Where are her multiple bangle bracelets and mountains of love beads? Her hair is washed and blow-dried to beautiful flowing waves. And she is wearing … makeup? Lynne is a lip gloss kind of chick. She has full on eye-liner, lipstick, and foundation. “Lynne, special occasion?”

  “You never know,” she answers. “Now that I am single, it’s time to start cruising for chicks.”

  I feel huge and ungainly next to Lynne. Normally, it doesn’t matter because she is always dressed so ridiculously that it can be hard to remember that she’s beautiful. Tonight, there is no mistaking it. Petite and thin, with her big beautiful eyes, she looks like a doll. Suddenly, I feel a wedge of anxiety, though I don’t know why.

  .We’re at our usual table at Janie’s. All of the regulars have exclaimed over Lynne’s outfit. Even Andy is looking her up and down, a small smile playing over her lips.

  “Lynne, you look like a woman.”

  “I am a woman, Andrea.”

  Andy smiles appreciatively. “You know, in twenty years, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your legs.”

  Lynne laughs softly. “Well, then you’ve been missing out.” They are having way too much fun. Andy has leaned back, her hands behind her head, long legs stretched out under the table. Her face is impassive, but there is a small, satisfied smile on her mouth. She loves this. She loves the admiration of an attractive woman, never mind that the woman is part of a threesome of old friends and one of them is sitting here completely forgotten.

  “Better be careful, coming in here dressed like that. The dykes will be all over you.”

  “Including you,” Lynne says, smiling slightly.

  “My job is to beat them off,” Andy replies. “Besides, you know my motto, never pick up a rebound.”

  “That’s one of your mottoes,” I say, coldly.

  Andy laughs, reaching over to gently pinch my ear. “One of many.” She grins. “That, and never have sex with a friend’s mom, don’t get your honey where you get your money, and never trust a woman named Judy.”

  “Andy,” I scold in jest. “You get your money from your dead grandparents. I don’t think there’s much temptation there.”

  She chuckles. “Technically, it’s from my grandparents’ estate, so I would have to not fuck my grandfather’s lawyer.”

  Lynne shifts around, closer to Andy. “Andy, do you get those mottoes from experience?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve picked up rebounds, and I have dated women at work. It never ends well. And don’t even get me started on women named Judy.”

  I’m laughing. Andy is nothing if not charming.

  “Okay,” Lynne says. “What about a friend’s mom?”

  “I had sex with Tony Canton’s mom in ’91.”

  I had forgotten about that. Tony was one of Andy’s buddies in college. I dated him a few times. To be fair, his mother was a MILF. No one realized she was bi, though, until Andy came along.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned Leah,” Lynne quips.

  “Ew! My mother?” I’m shocked. “That’s gross.”

  “It’s not gross,” Andy says. “I would do your mom if she wasn’t your mom.”

  I’m sickened. “Andy, that’s horrible. That’s my mom.”

  “I never did it. I wouldn’t. That would be disrespectful.”

  Lynne is laughing. “I can totally see it!”

  I shake my head.

  “Davey, you know I am just fucking with you. I’ve known your mother since I was seven. She’s like my own mother. I could never do her.”

  “I could,” Lynne says, laughing. “She is hot. And I was already a grown up when I met her.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “Somehow, I just don’t see my mother as hot.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Lynne answers. “She is incredibly beautiful.”

  “She’s just my mom. I don’t think of her as beautiful.”

  Andy puts her hand on the back of my neck. “Of course you don’t, Davey baby. You don’t think of yourself as beautiful, either. And your mom is almost as beautiful as you, which makes her one of the most beautiful women in the world.”

  “You need glasses.”

  “Or professional help,” Lynne says. She’s pissed that Andy’s attention has turned back to me.

  “If there is one thing you can count on,” Andy replies, picking up her drink, “it’s my ability to discern female beauty.”

  Chapter Four

  Sunday. I roll over in bed and look at the clock. Six AM and I’m wide awake. Great, I can get an early start to the day. I have every intention of making this a great one. The sun is shining, the cat is not sleeping on my face. Maybe I’ll make a healthy fruit plate for breakfast and do my Yoga DVD. Then, Lynne and I can take a long walk in the park. It’s a beautiful day, we should make the most of it. The rest of our weekend was uneventful and we got over our irritation with each other. We put it down to a stressful week and too much booze, so Lynne called in sick on Friday and we spent the day doing home spa treatments. Yesterday, we watched movies all day and drank wine coolers. And I only had to field three calls from Sarah over the last two days, which was a nice change.

  I did analyze why I was so irritated on Thursday, and it just comes down to this. It would suck if Lynne and Andy got together. It has nothing to do with any feelings I might have for either of them and everything to do with the fact that we are a threesome. You don’t mess with the
dynamic of a close group of friends, or someone ends up left out. And hurt.

  Stretching and yawning, I gradually become aware that there are voices coming from the living room. Strange, who would be here first thing on a Sunday? Oh! Maybe Sarah has come over to talk Lynne into coming home. That would be awesome! I mean, mostly because it would be good for them to work it out. I get up and grab some clothes. I don’t want to wander out naked if Sarah is here, it might give her the wrong idea. Throwing on some yoga pants and a tank top, I rush right into the bathroom, not even looking into the living room. I quickly brush my teeth, thinking of my next plan of action. I figure I can just grab an apple or something and go for a walk. I’ll call Andy once I’m out the door, see if she is up this early. I wander into the living room and stop dead. There, on the couch, surrounded by the ever-present piles of Lynne’s clothes is Leah. Leah and Lynne are squeezed together on the couch, drinking coffee and giggling. Good Lord, give me strength for whatever is about to happen.

  I walk cautiously into the room. “Hello, Leah.”

  She jumps off of the couch and grabs me. “My darling girl, my sweetest one. My little love.”

  “It’s good to see you, too.” She plops back down on the couch and I perch on the arm of a chair. I have to perch on the arm because like everything else in my life, it is covered with Lynne’s stuff. “Leah, what are you doing here?”

  Leah, for the record, is my mother. She is looking the same as she always looks. Her hair is long, straight, parted in the middle and the exact same dark brown as mine. She probably uses the same dye to cover the gray. She’s wearing some gauzy, flowing love child outfit with a ginormous beaded necklace. Looking at her and Lynne sitting together on the couch, I realize that Lynne looks more like Leah’s daughter than I ever have. It must be the way they dress, though, because Leah is three inches taller than I am and about twenty pounds heavier.

  “Ronnie moved out. I felt it was a perfect time to commune with my daughter.”

  Ronnie was my mother’s most recent lover. Last time I went for a visit, he was living there. He had longish hair, a longish beard and he wore nothing but cut off jean shorts. I’m not sure what exactly he usually did, but while I was there he spent all day, every day sitting on the floor smoking pot and watching TV. When I tried to make conversation with him, he kept telling me I need to just learn to go with the flow, man. He was like a stereotypical ’60s throwback, come to life in my mother’s living room.

  “Well, we’re a little crowded here right now, Leah, so…”

  “Nonsense! Lynne is perfectly comfortable on the couch and I can sleep with you.”

  “Leah, I’m sure Gram and Gramps would love to have you at their…”

  “No way. I’m not staying in that mausoleum. I want to be here where all the fun is!”

  I nod. There is no way I am going to win this one, so I just let it go. I grab a cup of coffee and resume my perch on the arm of the chair. Leah has never felt like a real mother. First of all, she’s only sixteen years older than I am. At fifty-six, she’s still taking thirty- and forty-something men to bed. My mother is kind of a cross between an old-school feminist and a hippie. She loves men in bed and for what they can teach her. I’ve known her to date a man for six months just because he was teaching her how to do glass sculpture. She stays with them until it isn’t fun anymore, then moves on. She considers us friends until I disagree with her, then she pulls the mom card. She provided a stable environment for me as I was growing up, I have to admit. We lived in an old Victorian with my grandparents. At times, she took off with one lover or another, but I always stayed where I was. Sometimes it sucked being raised by old people, but it would have been way worse to move around all of the time.

  “Is that all you brought?” I gesture to the huge shoulder bag at Leah’s feet.

  “No darling, my suitcases are just there.” I didn’t think it would be possible to bring anything else into this apartment, but somehow, Leah has managed. There are two giant suitcases sitting outside of my bedroom door. How I missed them in my dash to the bathroom, I have no idea. I nod again. Sometimes it’s best to not engage. I’m frantically trying to think of a way out of this.

  Leah and Lynne are passing a joint back and forth. I look at them, then look back quickly.

  “Leah, you cannot smoke pot in this apartment!”

  She looks at me incredulously. “Oh please, Davey. Eighteen hours of labor and now I can’t enjoy a harmless joint in your living room?”

  I turn and stomp back into my bedroom. “Whatever. Do what you want. I’m going out for a walk.”

  “Oh, darling,” Leah calls after me. “You’re so healthy!”

  I throw on some sneakers and head out. “She was always so uptight as a little girl,” I hear Leah say to Lynne as I slam the door.

  I’m stalking down the street, clutching my cell phone. “Andy, wake up. Dammit! WTF?” I’m shouting to Andy’s voice mail as I head towards her house. On the plus side, she lives three miles away. At least I’ll be keeping my promise to exercise today. I walk down the tree lined streets, cross over the railroad tracks and enter Bay Village. A few more minutes and I’m coming up Andy’s driveway. She is already at the front door, seeing off an incredibly beautiful woman who glares at me as she stalks off. “I got your voicemail,” Andy says. “Just had to free up my schedule.”

  I grab a cup of coffee and sprawl on her couch, describing my rude awakening. Andy is trying to convince me that it is not as bad as I think it is.

  “Andy, she’s impossible. She told Lynne that the song “Ah! Leah!” was written for her.”

  Andy is laughing. “Maybe it was!”

  I nail her with a couch cushion. “I can’t take this!”

  “Davey, baby, she’s only been at your house for a little while. You’ve talked to her for exactly five minutes. Give it a chance.” Andy is touchy about parental relationships because she doesn’t have one with hers. When she came out of the closet at seventeen, her parents absolutely flipped and threw her out of the house. She stayed with us for a while until her grandfather died, leaving a whole bunch of money to Andy, causing a further rift in the relationship with her parents. Her parents ended up moving out of Bay, to some lavish house on the far Eastside of Cleveland. At my insistence, Andy made contact several years ago, when being gay really wasn’t considered freakish anymore, and the world was becoming more accepting. I figured they had missed their daughter and wanted to talk to her, but were afraid to initiate contact. Nothing doing. They wouldn’t even return her phone calls and when she showed up at their door to try to talk to them, her mother told her through the chain that she was not welcome on their doorstep, let alone inside the house. Harsh. So, Andy is particularly interested in me keeping my relationship with my mother on good terms. I can tell you for a fact that my mother would not have kicked me out for being a lesbian. Hell, my mother would have preferred it if I was a lesbian. At least she is happy that I have a lot of gay friends. My mother has always been happiest with people who are considered fringe.

  Andy sits next to me on the couch and puts her arms around me. “Davey, your mom means well. She did a great job with you, after all.”

  “My grandparents had more to do with that than she did,” I grumble.

  Andy gives me a look. “Davey baby, she’s a good person, she means well, and she’s entertaining as hell. Try to relax and have a good time with her. If she wasn’t your mother, you would really enjoy her company.”

  It’s time for a change of subject. “What about you and the angry hottie?”

  She laughs again. “She was fun. She might have been a little pissed that I had to kick her out so early.”

  “Andy, it is perfectly okay to tell me that you’re busy.”

  “I’m never too busy for you,” Andy vows.

  “What if she doesn’t want to see you again because of that?”

  Andy shrugs. “She does or she doesn’t. No big deal.”

  Andy has never
made any secret about where her loyalties lie. A girlfriend can’t compete with a friendship of a lifetime, regardless of how hot she is.

  “Speaking of women,” Andy says. “What was up with Lynne on Thursday?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she’s flipping out about Sarah. Or maybe she wants to practice flirting on someone safe. It’s been fifteen years since she had to worry about it.”

  “Of course, it couldn’t be that she finds me attractive.”

  “Stop it. You know you’re hot. But you two have been friends for twenty years. You’re beyond the hot stage.”

  “I see.” Andy pulls lightly on a piece of my hair. “Then why were you so jealous?”

  “I wasn’t jealous.” I fold my arms over my chest. Well, I wasn’t. I wasn’t at all jealous. I just didn’t want to be the odd man out. It’s ridiculous when there are three people at a table and two of them are flirting outrageously with each other. Though to be fair, Andy is the master at making all of the women at a table, or anywhere else, feel welcome and included, but still. “Besides, that isn’t the point.”

  “What is the point, baby girl?”

  “The point is that when three friends are as close as we all are, two of them can’t ruin it by becoming an item.”

  Andy is in hysterics now. “An item! Davey, I am never an item with anyone. And I certainly wouldn’t fuck Lynne and drop her. We are friends. She was dressed up and looking to feel attractive and I let her. What’s important in this equation is why you, my straight best friend, are getting so snippy about it.”

  Snippy? I’m never snippy. Irritated, maybe. Mostly irritated by Andy’s obvious enjoyment of all of this. “I’m not snippy.”

  Andy puts her other arm around me and nestles her face again mine. “You were a little snippy.”

  I relax against her. “Drop it.”

  We let it go and chat lightly about other things for a while. Finally, I am calm enough to head home and deal with my mother.