by Rose Marini
A few weeks later, Emma and Allison were chatting in the hallway of the ER when Emma’s face tightened.
“What?” asked a concerned Allison, spinning around to see what had frightened Emma so. A tall, gray-haired man strode up to them before Emma was able to respond. His eyebrows drew over his eyes severely; combined with his beaked nose, he looked rather like a disapproving owl.
“Excuse me,” he said brusquely to Allison. “May I borrow my daughter for a moment?”
Allison’s eyebrows shot up as she glanced towards Emma, who jerked her head with a stony expression. Stunned, Allison nodded her assent. Not meeting her eyes, Emma muttered, “I’ll talk to you later.”
Stung by Mr. Simmons’ rudeness and the fact that Emma didn’t bother to introduce her, Allison spun and strode away without a response. Fuming, she barely noticed when she bumped into a slender man carrying a stack full of binders. The documents clattered to the floor. She knelt, hastily piling them together and shoving the heap into the man’s arms, then hurried off without even an apology. The man stared after her, resentment glinting in his dark eyes. He had glimpsed her ID badge; doctors in this hospital always thought they were more important than everyone else. As if they could function without the help of his IT department! Physicians might be smart about some things, but they were practically useless when it came to technology. And yet they still strut around like they’re gods, he thought bitterly. What I wouldn’t give to teach them a lesson…
* * *
Allison had shoved down her discontent by the time Emma came over that night, telling herself (for the hundredth time) that she just needed to be patient. Emma would introduce her to her family when she was ready. They were curled up on the couch when Emma paused the cooking show they were watching to ask, “When did you come out to your parents?”
Allison raised a brow and looked at her, surprised by Emma’s question. They hadn’t spoken about coming out since their tense conversation a month ago. “I told them during my sophomore year of college. I texted them after more than a few glasses of wine—I was so nervous that I had to have a friend press ‘Send’ for me. I basically said that I had realized I was a lesbian, that I was happy to have found the words for things I had been feeling for years, and I hoped they could be supportive and happy for me too. They were surprised—well, my dad was surprised, my mom wasn’t—but they took it mostly in stride. They’ve always been pretty open-minded about matters like that. The thing they were most worried about was if it would hurt my career, to be honest. A few months later, my dad sat me down to tell me to be careful what coworkers I shared by sexuality with, because he had seen an openly gay nurse be passed over for leadership positions and advancement for years due to his sexuality.
“They had ‘official reasons’,” here Allison demonstrated her disdain by making quotation marks in the air with her hands, “for doing so, at least that’s what they claimed, but most people suspected it was because the head of the nursing department was a hateful, bigoted old man.” A glint appeared in her eye and a slight smile curved her full lips as she continued. “My mom told me that a few months after I came out, my dad stepped in to get the nurse the promotion he deserved. He escalated the issue above the head of the department and call in some favors with the hospital administrators. He’s too humble to talk about it, but I’ve always wondered if my coming out had something to do with him standing up for the nurse… Anyways, I was lucky that my parents reacted well.”
She paused, caught up in the story as faraway memories flitted through her brain. “I knew I liked girls when I was really young, maybe five or six years old. When I came out, my mom told me that she wasn’t surprised because apparently when I was a little kid, I loved to play dress up and my favorite game was pretend wedding. The thing was, when I dressed up as a bride, I always pretended I was marrying a girl.”
Emma grinned, imagining a little baby Allison tying a pillowcase to her head in imitation of a veil.
Allison continued, “I didn’t really acknowledge it to myself until I was in high school, though. I was always pretty feminine, you know, I liked wearing dresses and wasn’t athletic or anything. I definitely wasn’t the stereotypical tomboy.”
Emma grinned; she had absolutely been a tomboy for most of her life. I guess the tomboy lesbian stereotype has to be accurate sometimes, she thought to herself wryly.
Unaware of Emma’s amused commentary, Allison kept talking, “During ninth grade, I became close with this girl—we were best friends. Always together, absolutely inseparable. It became a running joke in our small school; eventually, teachers just stopped trying to keep us separated. When she got a boyfriend, I went half-crazy with jealousy. At first, I tried to convince myself that it was because I had a crush on the guy too. When that didn’t work, I told myself that I was just upset that she wasn’t spending as much time with me. Then I started dreaming about her… And it finally dawned on me that I wanted to be the one holding her hand and kissing her behind the gym... And then a lot of things started to make sense. The weird feelings I had when one of my friends changed in front of me at a sleepover, my complete lack of interest in boys... Everything just clicked, you know?
She hesitated and looked down at her hands; it had been a dark period in her life. “But I hated that I was gay, at first. I prayed and prayed for God to take those feelings away. I had been close to my family—well as close as a teenage girl can be,” she corrected herself with a laugh. “And I felt like this huge secret slowly drove a wedge between us. I’m a pretty open book, you know? I don’t like hiding things. But I felt like I had to carry this burden by myself. I was angry a lot. Angry at myself, for having those feelings, angry that I couldn’t tell anyone—just pissed all the time. Not being honest was like a cancer, slowly destroying my relationships with everyone, including myself. My parents knew something was wrong and tried to ask, but I just couldn’t let anyone in. I must’ve opened my mouth to tell someone a million times, the words clawing out of me, but at the last second, I swallowed them again.
Allison stopped suddenly and turned towards Emma with an apologetic expression. “Sorry, I didn’t mean this to turn into a monologue.”
“No, no, keep going. I want to hear it!” Emma responded earnestly, giving Allison’s hand a squeeze. The thought of an angsty, confused teenager Allison was both entertaining and heartwarming, given the circumstances. She found herself oddly invested in the conclusion of Allison’s story.
“Well, I tried dating this boy, Josh, my senior year of high school. I told myself that my crushes on girls were just a phase and I would get over it if I dated a guy. So when a boy in my class asked me out, I said yes. I laughed when my friends teased me about dating the cutest boy in school, introduced him as my boyfriend to my family, and tolerated his kisses. It’s not that he was a bad guy at all; he was smart, polite, and perfectly nice in every way. But when he kissed me… I just didn’t feel anything other than vague disgust. Eventually, I gathered the courage to tell one of my friends how I felt about him. She laughed and said, ‘Allison, don’t be stupid! Josh is so hot and you two are adorable together! He probably just needs some more practice—I’m sure you can teach him to be a better kisser.’
“Her next question was if we had gotten to second base yet; we hadn’t, although he had been creeping in that direction during our last make-out session. The thought of his hands on me was just… repulsive. I lasted a few more weeks before breaking up with him.”
A slight frown twisted the corners of her mouth down. “I felt bad, he was pretty surprised and upset. He wanted to know why and I didn’t have a good answer for him. After that, I swore to myself that I would just remain single for the rest of my life. I’d be the crazy lady with a lot of pets and a big library who throws herself into her work and finds her purpose and meaning in helping people. I convinced myself that I’d be happy with that life.
“Then I went to college, though, and things got better. I found friends who made it clear
that they would love me regardless of my sexuality and met people who were happy to have the feelings that I hated having. They helped me see the amazing parts of being gay, like how much better it is to sleep with people you’re actually attracted to—,” Here she shared a laugh and suggestive glance with Emma. “—and how welcoming and fun the queer community is. I felt like I had finally found my people. It was only because of them that I had the strength to come out to my family and to stop wanting to change myself and be proud instead.
“Even after I accepted my sexuality, though, it took me a long time to actually date a woman. I was so intimidated!”
Emma giggled at the thought that her poised, self-assured Allison had ever been intimidated by a woman. Allison shot her a look but continued, a slight grin on her face. “Girls are so cool and attractive and fun. I didn’t know how to go about actually dating one! Thankfully a woman much braver than I took pity on me at a party, and she taught me what it was like to love a woman. The first time we kissed was just… right. I didn’t have any of the revulsion I had felt with Josh. Our relationship was never serious, but it confirmed that this was who I was. Once I knew—once the certainty settled into my bones—there wasn’t any going back. I knew I was born to love women, and eventually share my life with one. That’s when I decided to tell my parents. I didn’t want to hide part of my life from them anymore.”
She glanced at Emma as she concluded her story, noting her lover’s downcast look. She wrapped her arm around the blonde and tugged her down until Emma’s head rested on her shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay, Em. I promise. Your parents love you so much. I take it you’ve been thinking about telling them?”
“I want to Ally, I really do. I want to tell them about you. Just like you said, I hate feeling like I’m keeping an important part of my life from them. I want to be able to scream from the rooftops that I love you and that you’re mine and I’m yours.” She swallowed. “I’m so proud to be with you.”
Her heart warm, Allison cupped Emma’s face in her hands and leaned forward. Their kiss was long and slow, sensual and loving. Heat rose in Allison’s core; her hands slid down Emma’s body to tug her closer. Emma pulled back; reading her expression, Allison narrowed her eyes and said, “There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there.”
It wasn’t a question. A stab of guilt caught Emma’s chest at the tense note in Allison’s voice. She sighed. “It’s just… I want all of that more than anything, but it’s like I’m paralyzed by fear. I’m just so terrified of how they’ll react, especially because I know they’ll say things that are painful to hear. I’m sure there will be a lot of Bible verses about the sinfulness of homosexuality shoved in my face.” She took a deep breath and added cynically, “And if I’m lucky, my mom will share my ‘struggle with same-sex desire’ with her prayer group. The whole church will know within a day, and I’ll get plenty of passive-aggressive, pretending-to-be-concerned messages about the dangers of my ‘alternative lifestyle.’”
Allison winced at the hardness in her voice. She hesitated, knowing that nothing she said would make things easier for Emma. A wave of helplessness rolled through her. “I know it’s scary, Em—I wish I could do something to make it easier. I’ll go with you to tell them if that would help.”
Emma gave her a wan smile. “Thanks, Ally. I appreciate it. I think I just need some more time—this all feels so rushed. Not us, of course, just the whole… sexuality thing. I need some more time to think about it and to figure out how to tell my family. You don’t mind, do you?”
Ignoring the sensation of walls closing in around her and silencing the part of her mind screaming its dissent, Allison answered, “Of course. I know it’s a big step. Take as much time as you need. And if you need help figuring out what to say, let me know. We can even practice if you’d like.”
Allison had put their conversation out of her mind by the time they shared a shift the next day. Waiting for Emma was an exercise in patience, she had told herself. Luckily for Allison, they had few patients that day, as she was having technical difficulties. She had arrived at the hospital to discover that she could no longer log into her email or access any medical records. Emma frowned as she leaned over Allison’s computer.
“I’ve never seen an error message like this before… Have you had anything weird happen lately? Or tried to log in from a new computer or phone?”
“No, nothing out of the ordinary at all,” Allison responded. “Well, you know I spent the last few weeks rotating in the ICU, but I doubt that using another computer would cause this since they’re all hospital computers…”
“Huh, well that’s odd. Better call IT,” Emma advised. “It’s probably just a bug.”
“Probably,” Allison agreed.
Emma glanced around the residents’ workroom; confirming it was empty, she kissed Allison swiftly. They had agreed to keep their relationship quiet at work, both to avoid Emma’s father finding out and evade the scrutiny of their peers. Allison hadn’t forgotten the story her father had told her about how someone’s judgment of her sexuality could impede work success, either.
At that moment, Charlotte entered the room. She had been cool but civil towards Allison since their date.
“Is there a Dr. Simmons here? I have a patient for her in…” Her voice trailed off and her brows raised as she took in the scene before her. Emma was bent over Allison’s chair, brushing her brown hair offer her cheek while Allison’s hands wrapped around her waist. Emma’s heart sank. As the Head Nurse Manager for the Emergency Department, Charlotte could make their lives very, very difficult. And, given the circumstances, Allison likely wasn’t Charlotte’s favorite person. A beat passed; Emma straightened hastily as Allison half-rose from her chair, opening her mouth to speak. Before she could, Charlotte stepped towards them.
“Dr. Simmons, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Charlotte Rivera.”
“Call me Emma, please, Charlotte. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Emma responded, an edge in her voice.
The gorgeous woman looked between the two, noting Emma’s protective expression and the way she edged just in front of Allison, creating a wall between her and Charlotte. A tiny smile lifted the corners of Charlotte’s mouth and she bowed her head slightly.
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte replied. “Well, now I see why Allison wasn’t interested in a second date—you are quite the competition. I must admit, it’s not common for someone to reject my interest,” she added ruefully. She studied Emma for a moment and commented, “You must be an incredible woman.”
Emma blushed and half-glanced towards Allison. “I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’m a very lucky woman,” she responded.
Charlotte extended her hand with a warm smile. “I look forward to working with you, Emma. Speaking of work—there’s a patient in Room Two who is ready for your exam.”
They said their farewells to Allison and headed down the hall as Charlotte briefed Emma on the patient’s status. Allison breathed a large sigh of relief; Charlotte’s reaction had pleasantly surprised her. Perhaps we could be friends, she thought to herself, admiring the woman’s unexpected kindness, not to mention her poise in a potentially awkward situation. A note from the computer distracted her from her thoughts; another error message had popped up. Sighing, she dialed the number for tech support.
8
Fall faded into winter as Emma and Allison settled into their relationship, enjoying quiet evenings at home with their pets and outings with their friends. Emma finally caved and let Allison introduce her to Devon and Ben as her girlfriend. The four started a weekly game night, which Sarah and her fiancée soon joined. Allison was amused to discover that Emma had a competitive streak. The new couple dominated most games, so much so that their friends instituted special handicaps for them during team competitions, particularly during trivia. They also quickly became infamous at the local bar’s trivia night, where their mutual scientific knowledge, Allison’s pop culture and li
terary expertise, and Emma’s historical and sports knowledge led them to victory three weeks in a row.
Allison nervously introduced Emma to her family when they came to visit, expecting a lukewarm reception followed by a lecture about focusing on her career. In fact, she was pleasantly surprised when they embraced Emma immediately. The couple toured them around the city, showing them the sights and their local haunts. Each night her parents treated them to dinner, where Emma and Brooke, Allison’s sister, bonded over their shared love of hiking and camping. At the end of their visit Allison’s mom pulled her aside to say, “Allison, Emma is wonderful. I can tell she makes you happy. We’re glad you two are together, as long as you don’t let it interfere with your career, of course!”
Allison gave a tight smile—there it was, the expected judgmental comment about her life choices—and responded, “Of course not, Mom. I’m glad you like her.” She shoved back the panicked voice in her head questioning her decision to date Emma, suggesting that instead she should be focusing on her work at this point in her life. Aside from that niggling voice of fear, however, the season was imbued with a peace and contentment that Allison reveled in.
A few weeks after Allison’s family’s visit, the women had dinner at Emma’s apartment. Sarah was at a young professional development seminar, so they had the place to themselves. Emma had cooked, so she lounged on the couch while Allison hurriedly cleaned the kitchen. She scrubbed a pot haphazardly, trying to ignore the relentless thought that she should be studying right now. Swallowing her feelings, she called out, “Thanks again for dinner, babe.” She winced, hoping Emma didn’t notice the harsh note in her voice. This wasn’t Emma’s fault; the blame rested entirely on her own shoulders.