by Cass Sellars
“I guess if I’m being honest,” Sydney admitted, “it’s because I made sure I never cared that much. I was in control and that was always enough for me.” Sydney plucked absently at the blanket that draped over Parker’s back as she shifted her against her side and continued quietly.
“I wanted to run the night, to run the girl, the way I wanted. The only thing I loved was that rush when I achieved the goal, made her succumb to me.” Parker watched Sydney as she spoke frankly and glazed a gentle finger down her cheek. “But I never invested, not really. It felt incredibly different with you. I wasn’t expecting how much I would need to own you but in a way that gave you all the power. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes. More than you know.” Tears escaped Parker’s eyes as she realized that Sydney seemed willing to abandon being the person that she knew Dayne had been for the duration of their relationship. “I love being here,” Parker whispered into Syd’s neck, breathing in every shade and tone of her amazing lover. “And I don’t mean your home.”
“I know what you mean,” Syd replied. They passed a moment in silence. “Hey, how does breakfast sound?” Sydney asked.
“Amazing,” Parker said, grateful that their normal still felt that way. “How about I cook for you? I need to run out for some groceries, eggs and stuff.”
“No, you stay, I’ll go. We do need to break in your new kitchen like you promised. I will meet you at yours in just a bit.”
Parker kissed her happily in answer. As she swept up to get out of bed, Sydney pulled her back into her arms. Parker lounged contentedly against her as Sydney collected another kiss and then grudgingly released her.
“Sorry.” Sydney laughed. “I wasn’t ready to let go yet.”
“Don’t forget that feeling, Ms. Hyatt.” Parker’s teasing response made Syd laugh.
Sydney donned gym shorts and a T-shirt as she handed Parker another set for her trip across the hall. They walked together through the foyer, arms entwined tightly. Sydney propelled her playfully into her loft.
“Don’t get caught half naked in the hallway,” Sydney joked. “What would the neighbors think?”
“That the new resident of Unit D was very naughty.” Parker laughed and planted a series of loud declarative kisses on Sydney, then turned for the stairs to remedy her clothing deficiency.
*
Sydney walked out toward the parking area fighting the rush that still flowed over her skin. The frightening realization that she had spent hours with the same woman and still didn’t want to leave felt foreign. Like a place she had never been that felt inexplicably like home. She wondered what scared her more, that the feeling wouldn’t last or that it would. There was always the possibility that Parker would run from her, which was the most terrifying scenario of them all. She pointed the key fob at her car, rounding the nose to reach for the driver’s door.
“Shit!” Sydney yelled. Crude letters spelling dyke bitch screamed at her from her formerly flawless black pearl paint job. She quickly scanned the street for a glimpse of the culprit, but found nothing. Her blood boiled as she cursed herself for Becky’s unwelcome presence in her life.
She jogged back into the warehouse and removed her gun from the drawer in her kitchen. She tucked it behind her back and left to find Parker already arranging pans in her virgin kitchen.
“Well, I know you can’t be back already, did you just miss me?” Parker asked, laughing.
“No, I haven’t left yet.” Parker walked over and put her hand around Syd’s neck, a quizzical expression on her face. “Can I take your car?”
“Of course. What’s wrong?” Parker pointed to the keys resting on the sofa table.
Syd avoided the question. “I’ll be back in a few.” She kissed her hurriedly and headed back out the door.
“Okay.” She felt Parker’s eyes following her as she rushed back out with the Audi keys clasped tightly in her fingers and headed to the supermarket.
As she wandered up and down the aisles, Sydney balanced the phone on her shoulder and filled Steve in, dropping breakfast items into a small basket.
“No, I haven’t seen her,” he replied, “but I was off last night. I told you she was not stable.”
“No argument here,” Sydney grumbled into the phone.
“And honestly, don’t you think the dyke part was just a bit redundant?”
“Funny.” Sydney found no humor in the unpleasant end to her perfect night with Parker. Perfect? Not a thought she had ever considered before.
“You’ve got to call the police,” Steve said with a warning tone. “This is bigger than you, tough girl.”
“I know. I am. As soon as I get back. Let me know if you see her or hear from her, okay?” Syd was angry and no longer prepared to just politely divert Becky’s irrational attempts to insert herself in Sydney’s life.
“Will do, be careful.” Steve sounded worried.
“Ten-four,” she replied as she waited her turn to pay. She swiped her card and collected the bag of groceries, skimming into the driver’s seat of Parker’s Audi. She dialed the police as she drove toward her home, a place currently under siege by the army of her dubious past.
Sydney headed directly to Unit D. Parker was drying a frying pan which she placed on the stove, crossing to Sydney. Sydney returned her embrace, hugging her arms happily around Parker’s waist. Parker’s fingers slid along Syd’s spine and landed on the metal bulge at her back. She looked at her quizzically as Syd handed over the grocery bag.
“I need coffee like you wouldn’t believe.” Parker still stared at her, the unspoken question blaring in Parker’s eyes. “I’ll explain.”
“Are you okay?” Parker poured coffee into a large stoneware mug. Sydney watched her as she waited for the explanation.
“Why did you need my car, or that?” She pointed as Sydney pulled the weapon from her waist, laying it down, still inside the holster, at the corner of the island.
“Come with me. You’re going to know soon enough.” She led a puzzled Parker by the hand to the parking lot, forcing herself to leave the gun where it sat instead of carrying it outside.
“Oh my God,” Parker exclaimed as she saw the gouged paint on the car door. She looked at Sydney, pulling at her hand and hugging her. “Becky?”
“I sure hope so, otherwise I have pissed two crazy women off.” She laughed briefly despite the fact that she felt like punching something.
“Did you call the police, Syd?” Parker scanned the street just as Syd had earlier.
“Done. They should be here any minute. Go back in, baby. I don’t want you to have to deal with this.” Syd attempted to erase the worried creases from Parker’s forehead with her thumb.
Parker rolled onto her toes and kissed Syd’s cheek as a patrol car pulled to a stop behind her. “Breakfast will be ready soon. Don’t let her ruin this day for us.”
“Not possible,” Sydney said, as she pulled Parker up for a brief peck. She thoroughly disliked how exposed she felt in the open lot. She knew the expanse of gravel was only one of the things making her feel vulnerable.
The young Silver Lake police officer sent to the scene gathered the details from Sydney and the Styrofoam shards from the lot, then snapped pictures with his phone. Sydney saw the officer suppress a laugh when he read the charming message carved into her car.
“I take it you are familiar with the, uh, author?” he asked knowingly.
“Yeah, I think I am.” Syd held out her phone with Becky’s contact information displayed for him to copy into his notebook. She had considered deleting it but was glad, now, that she hadn’t.
“Why do you think it’s her?”
“She’s a former fling who had grander designs for our future, let’s say. She has made it clear that she is intent on pursuing a path I don’t want to go down. I made the mistake of bringing her here so she knows where I live but I have also conveniently run into her at the gym, and I am fairly certain she has followed me a few times. A friend at the bar wh
ere we met says she has been there looking for me, too.”
“You’ll want to come down to the station to fill out a petition for a temporary restraining order sometime today. This might just be the beginning and we need to make sure you’re protected.” He handed Syd the glossy fold of paper detailing the steps to navigating the court process.
“Comforting thought,” she replied. “I’ll be there.” Sydney took his offered card after watching him scrawl a case number on the back.
“Yeah, you just never know,” he warned.
“You don’t have to tell me—this has gone way beyond where I thought it would.” Syd thought of Parker and how this might affect their fresh connection.
She walked back to the door and noticed a pink square lodged under a rock near the step. Grabbing the corner she could see purple ink form a smiley face. Call me, hun. :-) I miss you. B. Becky had printed her telephone number carefully below the loopy B at the bottom of the note. Sprinting back to the idling police car, she handed it over to the cop who compared the number to the one Syd had provided earlier.
“Don’t need Sherlock for this one, do we?” The officer shrugged at Sydney and reversed onto Meridian. She heard the powerful engine as it roared toward downtown.
Syd reentered the busy kitchen and took the mug of hot coffee from her adoring chef.
“What did they say?” Parker looked at Syd intently.
“I need to go file for a restraining order this afternoon.” Syd tried to sound casual.
“Good,” Parker said. “I know we thought this was kind of silly before, but now I wonder if my presence just made things worse.”
“You had nothing to do with this, Park. I made this mess, okay?” Sydney looked at her carefully.
“I guess. But now it’s just a little scary, Syd. And she needs to pay for your car.”
“I know. I just want to make sure she stays away from here and, most importantly, you.” She tapped a kiss on Parker’s nose and helped carry heaping plates to the table. “It looks great, baby, thank you,” Syd offered, desperate to change the subject and resume residence in their happy cocoon.
“You are most welcome, my love,” Parker replied, straddling Syd briefly and lounging in her embrace. “And don’t worry about me, okay?”
“Too late.” She smiled as she bit part of a ripe strawberry and fed the rest to Parker.
As they finished eating, Sydney scanned Parker’s living room and noted how much it looked like she was settled in now. “You’ve done an awesome job since you’ve been here, you know.”
“Thanks,” Parker responded brightly. “I really feel like I’m finally home now.”
Syd wondered if Parker meant more than her words conveyed. Syd noticed a lone box in the far corner of her living room. She recalled each of Parker’s boxes having a clear content label and room destination on at least two sides, whereas this one was notably blank.
“What’s with that box in the corner? Need help unpacking it?”
“Nah”—Parker looked back absently—“I’ll probably just put it in Allen’s attic for a while until I figure out what to do with it.”
“What is it?” Noticing a cloud roll over Parker’s eyes, Sydney stroked her pale arms.
“Records of my old life, you could say.” Parker tried unsuccessfully to sound nonchalant.
Syd raised an eyebrow and covered Parker’s clenched fist with her hand. “Can I see?”
Parker shrugged and headed over to the box, dragging it in front of the sofa where Sydney now sat.
“I don’t think you’ll find it very interesting.” Parker released the box and wondered if the bad memories it held left actual scorch marks on her hands.
“Try me. If it’s about you, I wouldn’t be able to help it.” Syd peeled the tape away and pulled back the flaps. A tall carved stone statue of two women embracing lay across the top, barely fitting into the opposing corners. Parker moved it quickly to the end of the table behind her, not wanting to recall Dayne presenting the gift, by a rising DC sculptor, as they’d moved into their new home.
Sydney lifted the wedding photo which stared up next from the box. She ran her hand across the smudged surface and over Parker’s smiling face. “You looked beautiful.” She paused, taking Parker’s hand. “You deserved better,” Sydney declared.
Parker allowed herself to be pulled against Sydney’s chest and dusted tears off her cheek. Flipping over the frame, Sydney removed the back and freed the photo from the glass.
“This way,” she replied in answer to Parker’s questioning look, “you can just tuck them into the bottom of a drawer until you decide what to do with them. The box won’t haunt your living room anymore.”
Parker smiled at the simple solution. “Good idea.” She searched Sydney’s face as her mind fell on another thought. “I think I would feel jealous if I looked at a bunch of pictures of you with someone else.” She wished she could suck the words back into her mouth. Casual flings didn’t say things like that, and she wondered why she had. It was important to convey very clearly that she only wanted casual.
Sydney shrugged. “And I guess I just wish I could have protected you from all of it. But then I think that if you hadn’t experienced it, we might never have met.”
Parker tried to decipher the look on Sydney’s face. She watched Sydney as she studied the image and quietly warred against the unsettling sensation that Sydney made any space around her feel safe.
“That’s a good point,” Parker agreed.
A small pile of photos now lay facedown on the coffee table. The final frame was silver. Engraved script read Happy New Year across the bottom. It showed a group of partiers behind Parker who was smiling at Dayne as she grasped her arm, the large diamond on her left hand reflecting too much light. Dayne faced the camera, a little disconnected. Parker leaned closer, and for the first time, she recognized the woman at Dayne’s other arm. She was wearing considerably more clothes than the last time Parker had seen her.
“Was this at the beginning of last year?” Sydney asked, following her gaze to the subject in the picture. Parker nodded, rubbing her thumb across the strange woman’s face as it registered that her fingers had been wrapped around Dayne. Parker cursed herself for being oblivious.
“Wow,” Parker said, almost to herself, “I feel kind of stupid.” She laughed, not really feeling any actual humor.
Sydney slipped the now unframed photo onto the stack facedown and pulled Parker into her lap.
“You trusted your wife. You weren’t stupid—you loved her. She should have loved you the same way,” Sydney said rubbing her back slowly. “I don’t understand why someone would promise you a lifetime and then betray that trust. Say what you will about my history, I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”
Gazing at the now tiny stack of photos, Parker said, “It’s kind of crazy to think that the only thing left of a decade-long relationship could fit into a manila envelope.”
“Do you miss her?” Syd asked awkwardly, perhaps uneasy about the possible answer.
“No,” Parker said firmly, “because what I thought we had was a lie, so I can’t miss something that wasn’t real, right?”
“That could feel just as wretched, maybe more so. You still have to mourn a loss no matter how it ended or what it actually was.” Syd’s words seemed to come from experience she didn’t plan to expand upon. The silence roared as they both sat quietly. “What if we make new memories on the thirty-first of December this year? If, of course, you’ll have me?”
Parker glanced into her lover’s eyes. “I’d like that a lot.” She kissed Sydney. “It’s still a while away, though, Syd,” Parker said as if cautioning a game show contestant making a hasty choice. She briefly wondered who needed the warning more. She was sitting with another Dayne, wasn’t she? She never wanted to feel that pain again. Why was Sydney so hard to resist? Parker reminded herself that despite being reasonable and protective and an amazing lover, Sydney Hyatt was a player.
“Absolutely not,” Parker said indignantly.
“Good answer.” Sydney pushed Parker underneath her as she shoved the photos into the empty box and batted it away. She found her lover ready for her again and slid her mouth reverently across Parker’s sweet skin. She slid her tongue down Parker’s curves, strumming against her trembling inner thighs. Syd struggled against the intense heat that greeted her as she claimed Parker expertly with her mouth.
*
Becky rolled against Sydney and floated through the thoughts of the love they had just made in her spacious riverfront apartment. She smelled gourmet coffee and warm pastries and her lover’s skin. Sydney would never leave again. She had convinced Becky that whatever she had with that plain girl was in the past.
A loud noise made Becky start. A chunk of peeling plaster broke over the ancient radiator. She rolled from the couch cursing the sleep hangover the Sunday afternoon nap had brought. She brushed her lips over the grainy photo of Sydney as she poured a generous three fingers of vodka into a coffee mug. She checked her nails as she sipped, mentally planning to remedy the aging manicure. Sydney would expect her to look her best. Beautiful girlfriend, beautiful home, beautiful car. It was all perfect, wasn’t it?
Well, it would be. Becky wondered if Sydney had seen her note. Maybe the wind blew it away. Why hadn’t she called? Becky opened her journal as she sat on the worn couch. Her fingers caressed the ragged remnants of the page she had ripped from the book. Did she remember to write her phone number?
She stroked the pen over the paper as she began her next entry in loopy script. It took nine pages to describe their night together, the bliss of their mutual desire for one another. The way Sydney pleasured her, catered to her, proclaimed her love for Becky.