Born Again

by Heidi Lowe

  “I know that. Do you?” He pulled up at the curb, cut the engine, faced me crossly. “Why was Naomi Pierre at the hospital?”

  The question threw me for six. Did this mean that he’d seen us holding hands?

  “W—what? I told you, she... she was at the club when—”

  “The club you didn’t say you were going to?”

  “It was a last minute thing. Why are you asking me this?”

  He took a deep breath. “Do you really want to be my wife, Dakota?”

  I opened my mouth to speak. Several false starts, stuttering and bumbling my words. Until finally I said, “We’ve been together almost six years. You’re... you’re the kindest, most gentle man I know...”

  “That’s not what I asked you!” Even at his angriest he still had his temper in check.

  “The answer is yes. Yes, I do want to be your wife.” In that moment I meant every word of it. I wanted to be his wife because he wanted me to be, because I wanted that for him. As for myself, I was content with settling for ninety percent. That was how close to perfect I could get my life — ninety percent perfect. A lot closer than most other people had come. So what if I wasn’t in love with him? I would be inheriting a family, parents I liked, who also liked me, a community. Stability, something I’d never known.

  That would do.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  There were penises everywhere I turned! Big ones, small ones, purple ones, orange ones. Candy, hats, balloons, necklaces, ice cubes, all in the shape of male genitalia. Glow in the dark penis stickers, sunglasses with penis rims, glow in the dark t-shirts with smiling penises wearing sunglasses! It was official, Brit had an obsession with the phallus! She’d roped Saeed into getting me out of the apartment so that she and Dove, her partner in crime, could kit the place out for a surprise birthday/bachelorette party. A party I’d prohibited, but was now stuck in the middle of.

  I’d just walked into the living room, totally unsuspecting, and been given the fright of my life when twenty people jumped out, yelling “surprise!”.

  Dove popped out from behind the curtain, guitar in hand, and together with the rest of the guests, launched into a rendition of Happy Birthday to You.

  I shook my head over and over but couldn’t help smiling.

  “Happy Birthday, sis,” Dove said, once the singing was over. He hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. “I know it’s tomorrow, but we’ll all be too busy celebrating something else...”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at Colin’s bachelor party?”

  “No offense, but your future husband doesn’t have a fun bone in his body! I left after the second round of bridge.”

  He was preaching to the choir. Boring, predictable Colin who would be my husband in less than twenty-four hours.

  Brit turned up the music so that I couldn’t hear myself think. She came dancing over to me, beaming, placed a tiara made of silver penises on my head, then handed me a cocktail with an obscene ice cube in it.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, chuckling. “You knew I was never gonna let you get away with not having a bachelorette party.”

  Yeah, she was right. I’d suspected something was afoot when Saeed, out of the blue, invited me to get all-you-can-eat sundaes under the guise that he needed to talk. I realized he was stalling about twenty minutes in, but went along with it anyway.

  “Where did you even find this stuff? I’m actually concerned about you.”

  She only laughed. I suspected she was already inebriated. The party was always in full swing with Brit long before any guests arrived.

  I went to say hello to the rest of my guests — a couple of work colleagues, some mutual friends of mine and Brit’s — then helped myself to Doritos, which were the only snack that wasn’t shaped like the male genitalia.

  It was nice to see everyone, and I appreciated them coming, but a party was the last thing I needed at that moment. I didn’t feel like celebrating, not my thirtieth birthday nor my wedding. Your bachelorette party was supposed to be filled with laughter and fun, a celebration of your last night of freedom, the losing of your surname, and the inheriting of a new person you would forever be joined with. Well there was laughter and fun, all right, but not on my part. I sat out and watched my guests take part in the naughty games Brit had planned for everyone, insisting I had a stomach ache from all the ice cream I’d eaten. Someone drunk handed me a deflated penis balloon, laughed, then returned to the game. I had no idea what any of it was supposed to mean.

  The muscles in my mouth were aching from all the fake smiling I had to do. I needed to get out of there. I whispered to Dove that I’d forgotten something downstairs, didn’t elaborate, just grabbed my keys and made an expeditious retreat to the door.

  I’d been sitting on my scooter, outside her apartment complex, for half an hour, and I still hadn’t mustered enough courage to get up and press the intercom. I knew she wouldn’t let me in, and even if she did, I knew there would be another woman there. As much as I liked to think I was fully healed, I knew I still had a long way to go, and thus didn’t trust myself enough to stay reasonable.

  Calls came in from my concerned family and friends — first Dove, then Brit. I fired off identical texts that told them I’d gone for a walk and would be back soon.

  I took a breath so deep my lungs hurt, climbed off my scooter, then approached the entrance to her building. My palms were clammy, my finger damp as I pressed her buzzer.

  She’s making love to someone who will never give her up, not like you did. Someone who’ll appreciate her, love her without being afraid. Someone who will give her the family you once dreamed of giving her.

  The wait was agonizing as I built up an image of her in bed with another woman, doing to her all the glorious things she’d done to me. When she didn’t answer immediately, that was the proof I needed.

  But then, “Hello?” Her voice was full of sleep, like I’d woken her. It was only half nine; she and her lover must have had an early night.

  “Hello?” she said again, when she was met with silence.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but only air came out.

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Dakota?”

  Oh God, she knew it was me! Why the fuck had I come? I could turn around, hop back on my bike and speed off, never confronting her. But the truth was I had come for a reason; I came to make amends. To close the book once and for all, get the closure I needed.

  “Dakota, is that you?”

  “Y—yes, it’s me.”

  I heard the door click.

  I expected to see her standing outside the elevator, as she was the last time I was there, but she was waiting at her door. The crows at once commenced their savage assault on my stomach the minute I set eyes on her. It had been four weeks since we’d seen each other, four weeks since I’d held her hand, begging her with my eyes to not leave me. And I was floored to realize that I still loved her as much as, probably more than, I had before.

  Her dark hair was untidy and loose. She wore a silk pajama vest and shorts. For a moment I was left immobilized, speechless and breathless.

  She opened the door wide and stepped aside so I could come in.

  Her place smelled so familiar, like her; the calm I used to get whenever I was there returned. I’d never felt more at home anywhere than I had in her condo, with her by my side. Warmth. Was it her or the place itself, I didn’t know.

  “H—how did you know it was me?” I asked her.

  “Just a hunch.”

  You’ll never know how much I love you, I thought to myself, crying inside. I’m gonna marry him, live an unfulfilling life for the sake of stability, and because I’m a coward, and you’ll never know that you were my everything.

  “I just... I just came to... apologize.”

  She cocked her head to one side, arms folded. “Apologize?”

  “Yeah, for the way I acted. For being crazy.”

  She frowned. “You don’t have to apolo
gize.”

  “I do. It was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  She studied me intently for some time, saying nothing. Until finally, “Okay. So you came all the way over here for that?”

  “That, and to tell you that I’m doing okay now, and I wanna come back to work... when I get back from my honeymoon.”

  She nodded, her expression neutral, unchanging. “I’m glad you’re doing well again.”

  My eyes betrayed me, kept wandering to and lingering on her lips. How I longed to feel them again. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. We weren’t strangers; we’d made plans, made love whilst making plans! And now this impersonal exchange. I would take the mean Glacier Queen over this shit.

  “So I can come back?”

  “I don’t see why not.” She sat on the arm of her couch. “I won’t be there, though. I got the promotion to executive manager, so I’m moving to the Ankh building.”

  I couldn’t even be happy for her. Congratulations were in order, but I simply couldn’t feign support. She was walking out of my life for good.

  I opened my mouth to tell her what was in my heart, but closed it again. There was no sign that it would have been received well.

  “So this will be the last time we see each other?” I wanted to curl up in a little ball and live out the rest of my days that way. How could this be the end? Why was it so easy for her to let me go? Why wouldn’t she say something, anything, to suggest that there was still a chance for us?

  “We’ll bump into each other at work events, I’m sure.” She kept her eyes on me, never letting them drift away. Could she have been waiting for me to speak up? All I needed was a sign.

  I lowered my head. “I’m getting married tomorrow.” Now’s the chance, Naomi. Please.

  And then she crushed my soul. “I’m really happy that you found what you were looking for, Dakota. I truly am. And I hope you have a lovely wedding. You deserve to be happy.”

  Someone turned on the faucet in my eyes, and before I knew it tears were gushing out.

  “Goodbye,” I said as I hurried away. She’d already seen them before I could escape. But none of it made a difference. She let me go — physically, emotionally. She was over me.

  Closure. That was what I wanted, and exactly what I got.

  I choked as my lungs filled with the poisonous fumes from the hairspray Brit was applying to my newly styled hair. I’d let her decide on the style, and she’d chosen a braided bun with a flowery vine wrapped around it. Looking at my reflection, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. Not just because of the copious amounts of makeup, or the foreign hairstyle, or even the ivory dress that had already begun to itch again. It was a feeling I couldn’t explain, like I was trapped in a stranger’s body and couldn’t get out. I had no idea who this madwoman was who would become someone’s wife in a matter of minutes, nor did I want to be in her shoes.

  We were tucked away in one of the small activity rooms usually reserved for the Sunday school children of the Freewell Church of Kent. Outside, a roomful of guests awaited my entrance; my future husband stood in a rented tuxedo.

  “That’s enough now,” I said, waving the can away. “Or are you trying to kill me?”

  She laughed. Her lilac bridesmaid dress was simple yet surprisingly classy, considering it too had come from the budget bridal store of doom.

  “Just trying to give you an out if you need it,” she said with a wink.

  “What, through death?” Actually, that would have been preferable to this farce.

  “I still can’t believe you’re actually doing this, like being an adult and everything. Marriage. That’s huge. You’re gonna have a husband. You’ll live with him, and he’ll expect you to cook, and clean, and put on his tie in the morning...” She made a face.

  Inwardly I made one too. No good would come of me expressing my displeasure out loud, not now. Because I’d already lost the one and only person I would ever love; I couldn’t have her, so I had to settle for this. I could still fashion a life, some level of happiness, from this marriage. I could do the thing my mother couldn’t — give my children a good father.

  A knock on the door startled me. “Sis,” Dove called in. “You ready?”

  I got up, sucked in as much air as my lungs would allow, then made my way to the door, finally ready to accept my fate.

  Brit grabbed my arm just as I went to leave. Her face was suddenly serious. “Daiquiri, you know you don’t have to do this, right? If there’s somewhere else you wanna be... you should be there.”

  We’d never been able to speak about Naomi candidly, not after everything that had happened. Even now, with her out of both our lives, that still stood between us. But she didn’t have to say her name for me to understand. She was giving me her blessing. Too bad Naomi hadn’t.

  “It’s too late,” I said. I blinked away the tears that had gathered on my lashes and were threatening to ruin my mascara.

  Half of the congregation had gathered in the church that afternoon, along with my friends and coworkers. Even though I knew she wouldn’t be out there, I looked anyway, and swallowed down my disappointment. This wasn’t a movie where at the very last minute, when the priest asked if there was anyone who objected to the wedding, she would stand up and tell everyone she loved me, and we’d ride off into the sunset on unicorns. No one was coming to save me.

  I slipped my arm through Dove’s as the organ player treated us to an out of tune rendition of Richard Wagner’s famous Bridal Chorus. So cliche. We walked down the isle in step with each other. I could see the pride on his face when he looked at me, like he was my father. Even if my father had been there, and hadn’t been the piece of garbage he was, I would never have chosen anyone but Dove to walk me down the isle.

  A beaming but nervous Colin waited eagerly at the front of the church with Pastor Hugh. Both men smiled radiantly as they watched me step ever closer to my true destiny. I spotted June and Seth in the front row, wearing identical, and rather spooky, grins.

  The music stopped as soon as Dove delivered me safely to my destination.

  Now I stood face to face, hand in hand, with my future husband.

  “Thank you all for coming here today to see the holy union of two of our dearest members, as they take the vows under God...” Pastor Hugh started.

  He opened his bible and began to read from it.

  The words swept right past me, never registering. So distant, like a far away echo. Replaced by my own words...

  “Maybe if you’d kept looking you would have found someone that ticked all the boxes...”

  Stability wasn’t what was missing from my childhood, love was.

  You can have both.

  “Wait, stop!” The voice that spoke didn’t sound like my own. But when I realized that everyone was now gawking at me, it became obvious that I’d been the one saying those words.

  “Is there a problem, Dakota?” Pastor Hugh said.

  I looked at Colin, who had the face of someone who knew their whole world was about to come crashing down. Crestfallen? Yeah, that was it.

  “I want both,” I said to him, still holding his hands, and thus unable to swish away the tears that had begun to pour out.

  “What are you talking about, Dakota?”

  “I want stability, and I know you would give me that in spades. You’d be amazing. But... I want someone that ticks all the boxes. Love is just as important as stability.”

  “Dakota, what—”

  “I know you saw us; I know you know. I’m sorry.” I let go of his hands, then turned to face the crowd. With a voice shaken with fear, I said, “I’m gay.” Then I burst out laughing because I’d been expecting the ground to split in two, and for me to be sucked into an ocean of lava. “I’m gay.” I said it again because, my God did it feel good to finally admit it.

  Gasps abounded. Outraged, gaping looks. Some old man looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

  “And I know that means I can’t be a part of t
his church anymore, and that you all think God will strike me down or whatever. But guess what? Love is the thing that makes life worth living.”

  I turned to Colin one final time. “I’m sorry, but there’s somewhere I need to be.”

  I lifted the train of my dress and, as quickly as I could, heels clacking on the tiles, I hot footed it out of there. I hopped into the back of the car that we’d hired to take us to the airport.

  “Where’s the groom?” the driver asked.

  “He’s not coming. Could you take me to Queen Anne?”

  There are some things that happen in life that can only be described as divine intervention. Things far too magical to be brushed off as coincidence. That day, as I stepped out of the car and approached Naomi’s apartment complex, some wonderful human being just so happened to be leaving. He held the door open for me with a smile, eliminating the first obstacle of getting her to let me in.

  I had no plan, no idea what I would say. But remarkably I wasn’t nervous, or terrified, or desperate to turn back.

  I tapped on her door, and didn’t stop tapping for one second until she opened it.

  I opened my mouth to speak, to say what, I didn’t know. But something happened that I did not see coming. Right before my eyes, Naomi burst into tears.

  She pressed a hand to her mouth, shook her head, over and over. “I was so afraid you’d go through with it.”

  My own tears were falling as I threw my arms around her. “I told him I’m gay. I told everyone. That’s what you were waiting for, wasn’t it? For me to be sure?”

  She nodded.

  EPILOGUE

  Two Years Later

  It was a tune I’d heard a thousand times, and I still hadn’t grown sick of it. Over and over, never going any slower or faster, but just the right pace to get the job done. It put me to sleep every time.

  Today was no different. I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep sitting up until I heard the front door shut. I straightened up in bed, beamed down at the sleepy baby in my arms, and kissed her tiny hand. “Momma’s home.”