The Lucky Ones

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The Lucky Ones Page 8

by KG MacGregor


  “You don’t want me for a spokesperson. I’m way too opinionated when it comes to baseball. Besides, you’re totally gonna rock this. Promise me you’ll do an Elvis contest. Oh, and Johnny Cash Night, where everybody has to wear black. They’re gonna love it, Britt. Mark my word, three years from now we’ll be jotting down your talking points for when you run for mayor.”

  Britt laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks. Three years from now, I hope to be filthy rich and sitting on a dock in San Diego looking out over the Pacific. Trust me, I am not cut out for small town life in the Bible Belt.”

  With the smallest hint of teasing, Ninah reminded her, “Don’t look now, but three days ago you couldn’t imagine being here at all. Maybe you’ll have another epiphany.”

  “It would take a lobotomy.”

  “Come on, let’s make another list.” She commandeered Britt’s tablet and pen. “What’s great about living in Leland? I’ll start. The people are friendly.”

  “When they aren’t being homophobic, misogynistic Bible-thumpers.”

  Clearly religion was a hot-button issue. “I’ll concede that we probably have more than our share of holy rollers, but we also have plenty of church people like Justine Hall. She goes every Sunday and she’s about as liberal as they come.”

  “Point taken.”

  “Okay, number two: People in Leland care about each other.”

  “Which also means there’s no privacy. Everybody’s all up in your business.”

  “You’d be surprised how many secrets there are in this town,” Ninah said, remembering Emmy’s mysterious boyfriend. “How about this? We never have traffic jams.”

  “Because half the cars are sitting on blocks in somebody’s front yard.”

  “Now you’re being mean.” Ninah swung her foot beneath the picnic table, missing Britt’s leg but kicking her bench. “We’re laid-back.”

  “Because there’s nothing to do.” The sudden sharpness in Britt’s voice signaled a serious turn in what had been a playful exercise.

  “There’s plenty to do.” Ninah gestured toward the lake. “We go canoeing, hiking, biking. Or if you’re Justine, you go out running every day in the fresh air. We have sports leagues at the rec, the wellness center, Rotary.”

  “Sounds thrilling.”

  Ninah bristled at the sarcasm. “It is for us…but I guess that’s because we’re such simple folk. You may not be able to get avocado toast on every corner, but I guarantee you we were local-sourcing and sustainable-farming our tables long before hipsters in California decided it was trendy.” Regrettably, her voice also had taken on an edge that turned their companionable conversation combative. “Sorry, now I’m the one sounding mean.”

  Britt tortured her with an excruciating silence before stating calmly, “I was rude and I apologize. If you like living at a slower pace, more power to you. All I meant was that it’s not for me. I’ve been coming here to visit all my life, and to me this place feels… Never mind, I should shut up now so I don’t say something else to insult you.”

  Ninah bit her lip to keep from apologizing again.

  “Look, I’ve had these conversations with Dad a hundred times. He loves this place, obviously. And I’m happy for him. He deserves it after living with my mom for twenty years. But it grates on me how he always tries to get me to say I love it too. ‘Isn’t this a great view, Britt? Don’t you like how peaceful it is here?’ And if I say yes, he adds, ‘You could always stay and enjoy it.’ I should get a little string here in my side, something he can pull and make me say whatever it is he wants to hear.”

  “And I just did the same thing to you.”

  “It’s not your fault I’m still hauling baggage from this place. I’m here willingly. I promised to help Dad get the Longdogs up and running. It’s a good career move, so I need to quit bitching about it and own it instead of acting like I’ve been forced into indentured servitude.” She blew a breath upward that lifted the hair on her forehead. “So much for talking baseball. Maybe we should take a raincheck, try this again when I’m not in such a shitty mood.”

  What Ninah had noticed about the shitty mood was that she’d triggered it with her sales pitch on Leland. That was probably something Vernon did too, and clearly Britt resented it. Next time they sat down together, she’d pay more attention to what Britt wanted. “I’ll take a raincheck under one condition—you have to guarantee it. Call me when you’re ready and we’ll do this again. I swear I’ll listen better. But just promise you’ll call me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It had taken Britt hours to get clear on what she needed to do. She was relieved to see the lights still on at Ninah’s house.

  What was going through Ninah’s head right now? Another list, probably: All the things she’d rather do than listen to a faux snob whine about how bored she was living among the hicks in Leland.

  She tentatively climbed the steps of the old frame house, angry at herself that she might have ruined her chance for friendship with someone she actually liked quite a lot. The front door stood open behind an old-fashioned wooden screen that allowed her to see all the way through the living room to the kitchen. “Knock knock.”

  Ninah emerged from what Britt assumed was the bedroom. She’d changed into blue boxer shorts with white piping, and a gray T-shirt touting the Leland Wildcats. “Britt, is that you?”

  “Hey…sorry it’s so late. I came to apologize. I don’t know what came over me, but none of it’s your fault.” She stepped inside the opened screen and followed Ninah’s gesture to take a seat on the couch. “I’d like it a lot if you’d forget what an asshole I was and give me another shot.”

  “If anyone was an asshole, it was me. I knew you weren’t all that happy about being here. I shouldn’t have pushed you. You’re entitled to feel however you want…and I’m sorry for being so flippant about it. I should have been more sensitive to your feelings, especially with all you’ve got going on.”

  “It’s just a bunch of old baggage. Most people would have outgrown it by now.” Every telling of the story, which Britt had shared with only a handful of close friends, always triggered visceral feelings of humiliation and rage. Trusting Ninah with it was a leap of faith. With a deep sigh, she relaxed against the pillows behind her. “It goes all the way back to my senior year in high school.”

  Ninah snorted. “If it makes you feel any better, high school’s pretty complicated for everybody. At least that’s what my students tell me.”

  “Especially the gay ones, I bet.”

  “Oh, yeah. There’s so much pressure on kids to be like everyone else. Bullying’s a huge problem.”

  “I could handle the bullying. I just flipped them off, you know?” Britt shook her middle finger. “What got to me most was how some of my friends—I’m talking people I’d known since first grade—decided they couldn’t be friends with me anymore because I was going against the Bible.”

  Ninah’s face fell. “Aw, that’s such crap. I’m so sorry that happened.”

  “It hurt, I’ll admit it. And the really sick part of it…I’d gone to the Presbyterian Church my whole life, so I knew why they were saying it. I worried about it all the time, that God was mad at me for not trying harder. I even prayed about what to do, but all that did was make me feel guilty.”

  “That’s just not right.” Ninah scooted close enough to rest a hand on Britt’s knee. “I’m not all that religious, but I firmly believe if there’s a God, he made us this way. If that turns out to be wrong and it keeps me out of heaven, then so be it. I am who I am.”

  “Exactly. Except I don’t wonder about God anymore. I’ve decided he doesn’t exist.” She’d tried for years to understand why God would allow so much suffering and injustice. If he was all-powerful like everyone said, the least he could do was step in and stop his followers from spreading hate in his name. “Whenever I’m in Leland—or for that matter anywhere in Kentucky—I feel like there’s this pervasive cloud of judgment hanging over me everywhere I
go.”

  Ninah sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s still plenty of that to go around. But it’s not as bad as it used to be. Look at Carly. She ran for county clerk against a blatant homophobe and beat him. Not by much, but I like to think it means we’re turning a corner.” Whether she realized it or not, she was stroking Britt’s thigh. “From what you were saying the other night, I got the impression your feelings about Kentucky had more to do with your mother.”

  “Oh, it does. But that’s the church too.” She shuddered, recalling her experience with irrepressible rage. “My mom’s one of those deluded wrath-of-God types who gets off on telling everyone else they’re going to hell. But she wasn’t always like that. Like I said, we were normal, run-of-the-mill Presbyterians. When I was about fifteen, she went with a friend of hers to one of those Pentecostal revivals, then came home all flustered and breathless saying she got saved. She wanted Dad and me to get baptized in this new church of hers, the Assembly of Whatever. We both said no. Or in my case, hell no. She turned into a different person overnight. Off to Bible study all the time, praising Jesus fifty times a day.”

  “Must have been weird.”

  “More like bizarre. I think she was infatuated with the minister, Brother James. She aligned all her beliefs and values with his, parroted everything he said, including the absolute certainty that gay people were going to hell.”

  “Were you out?”

  “Not to my parents. I came out to them the summer before my senior year. I figured they already knew, but me not saying anything let them live in denial. Dad was a little shook up at first—I could tell—but he kept his cool. Whereas Mom went completely ape-shit. Off she goes moaning to Brother James, then she comes back crying about how I’m breaking Jesus’s heart. Poor Jesus.”

  “That’s right, lay on the guilt.” With a small laugh, Ninah added, “Something tells me that wasn’t working on you anymore.”

  “Just the opposite. I started flaunting it. Talked about it all the time, kissed my girlfriend in front of her, stuff like that. I said if I had to go to hell, at least I’d get to ride the party bus with the cool kids. Your basic rebellious teenager stuff. You know what I mean?”

  “Uh, I’ve taught high school for thirteen years, sistah. I’ve seen a few obnoxious little shits in my time.” Ninah snickered again and shook her head. “Where was your dad in all this? Didn’t he take up for you?”

  “He tried to reason with her and get her off my back. But then he’d get on my case for baiting her, said it only made her worse. Which it did, but that was kind of the point. Then right before Christmas she came to me and said there was only one present she wanted that year. That was for me to come talk with Brother James, like he was going to sprinkle some magic fairy dust over me and make me straight. I should have refused, but I was feeling full of myself. I thought it would be fun to yank his chain too.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I would have if I’d gotten the chance. I thought he’d be some old guy, all hellfire and brimstone. Instead, he was about Mom’s age, mid-forties, kind of soft-spoken.” She drew a deep breath through clenched teeth as the memory enveloped her. This part sometimes gave her a sensation of bugs crawling up her legs.

  Ninah sat up straight and twisted to face her. “Hey, you okay? You don’t have to talk about this for my sake, Britt.”

  It was too late to avoid the emotions. “I remember it was cold that day. Brother James had one of those electric kettles in his office and he offered me a cup of spice tea.” Feeling a familiar knot in her chest, she tried to relax. “We chatted for a few minutes and he was actually nice. I started thinking it wouldn’t kill me to be polite. I knew he wasn’t going to change me, no matter how many supposed treasures were waiting for me in heaven. But then I noticed I was feeling sluggish, that my eyes wouldn’t focus. He kept asking me questions and I couldn’t form the words to answer.”

  “Oh my God, he drugged you.”

  She nodded, a rocking motion that helped soothe her fury. “Probably ketamine. Not enough to knock me out but it kept me from running out of the room. Then he opened the door and Mom came in carrying a pillow. They put me down on the floor. I remember feeling like I was standing off to the side watching them. Brother James got down and put his hand on my forehead and started speaking in tongues and commanding all the demons to get out in the name of Jesus. Mom was just chanting hallelujahs and stuff.”

  “Britt, that’s just evil.”

  “I haven’t even gotten to the evil part. Keep in mind I’m only seventeen years old. Still a child in the eyes of the law. So after all their wailing, this other guy comes in. Early thirties maybe. What I remember most—it’s burned into my brain like a cattle brand—is all the hair on his hands. Like he was Bigfoot or something.” She tugged at her collar and swept her fingers across her chest. “It curled out from under his T-shirt halfway up his neck. I’m a dyke, right? So all I can think is how physically repulsive he is. He kneels down beside me, holds my hand and starts brushing his hairy fingers on my face. Like he’s my boyfriend or something. It was gross. He keeps saying how beautiful I am, how God’s going to send me a handsome husband and our family will serve the Lord.”

  Ninah rose and started to pace, her face a mask of horror. “Please tell me you reported all of them to the police. That’s kidnapping…and they gave you drugs!”

  Britt reminded herself that Ninah was only trying to be supportive. She couldn’t know that such a remark was effectively a judgment of how she’d handled the situation. “Everyone imagines they’ll be brave and stand up for themselves, but it’s not so cut and dried when it’s your own mother. I didn’t want her arrested and thrown in jail…though it would have served her right.”

  “Of course not. I didn’t mean…God, you poor thing.”

  “After a while, whatever they gave me started wearing off. Brother James stopped his gibberish and they sat there and watched me, like they were waiting to see if their little miracle had worked. I was so freaked out, I could hardly talk. Plus my legs were so wobbly that my werewolf boyfriend had to help me out to the car. When we got home, Mom sent me upstairs to lie down. I locked the door and stayed in my room for two straight days except to go to the bathroom.” She hugged herself and shuddered. “I kept thinking about his hairy knuckles on my face.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Ninah returned to her seat and clutched Britt’s hand with both of hers. “I can’t imagine a mother doing that to her own child.”

  “The next night I heard her arguing with Dad. He came up to my room and made me tell him every detail I could remember. He was furious. Told me to pack a suitcase, that we were going to spend Christmas here in Leland with my granddad.”

  What began as a respite soon became a symbol of ruin. Every visit since had triggered a visceral sense of angst tied to that awful memory.

  “I figured we’d only be here till New Year’s, but Dad went to JT and filed for divorce. Her lawyer froze their assets so we couldn’t rent anything in Louisville until they had a settlement, and she kept rejecting everything. So I had to finish my senior year here at Leland High School.”

  “What an awful thing to do to a kid. You probably felt like you were the one being punished.”

  “And to make matters worse, Dad asked me not to tell anyone I was gay. It wasn’t that he was ashamed—at least that’s what I choose to believe—he was worried they wouldn’t accept me, that I might get hurt. He promised if I made it through graduation, he’d send me to college wherever I wanted to go.”

  “So you chose California because it was as far away as you could get.” Ninah flopped back against the pillows and drew Britt’s hand into her lap. “No wonder you feel the way you do. How could you like a town when your memory of it is so oppressive?”

  “I haven’t told that story to many people, but it’s why I don’t see myself staying here very long. It’s a good career move for the time being. If I can turn this team around, it ought to put me in a position to ge
t the job I want. A nice little bullet point on my résumé.” With a frustrated sigh, she added, “But I doubt I’ll ever overcome this vibe.”

  “It breaks my heart that you go through that every time you come back. Maybe this time we can help you write over the wretched parts, leave you with some happier memories.”

  Britt turned to find smiling eyes as a wave of emotion seemed to fill them both. Then to her surprise, Ninah slowly closed the distance between them until her mouth hovered only a breath away, asking permission.

  She eased into the kiss, her mind a jumble of sensations. What was Ninah thinking?

  I like you. Let me comfort you. You excite me.

  Any of those was perfect.

  Chapter Twelve

  As their kiss deepened, Ninah found herself falling backward onto the couch, with Britt looming above her. She was acutely aware of her scant clothing, shorts and a T-shirt with nothing underneath. If Britt dared to reach inside, they’d quickly be past the point of no return.

  Feeling an urge to even the odds, she slid her hands under Britt’s shirt until she located the clasp of her bra. She released it with a simple twist, and getting no resistance, gently caressed her back as their breaths turned to gasps.

  Of all the ways she’d imagined her evening with Britt, having sex hadn’t been anywhere on her list.

  A warm hand stroked the back of her thigh, all the way to the top, where fingertips brushed her bottom. “Is this okay?”

  Showing more confidence than she felt, Ninah answered by wriggling free and tugging her T-shirt over her head. Then she lay back to admire Britt’s lustful gaze.

  “You’re gorgeous,” Britt hissed, pulling off her own shirt and bra together.

  Tingling with arousal, Ninah drank in the sight of full breasts with pale pink aureoles and rose-colored nipples already stiffened with excitement. They fell together again in a succession of kisses that seemed fueled by a shared hunger for passion itself. Her three lonely years melted away. Tonight would be her new touchstone.

 

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