“Yeah, that’s my wife.” Nathan pointed to Joanne. “Because I’m straight, so…that’s my wife.”
“Of course she is. Lovely.” Bryan sipped his drink. “I like the ladies too.” He laughed impulsively as if someone had just tickled him from behind. “All kinds of ladies.” His voice trickled off into the wind.
Nathan tried to hide his discomfort and started flipping the burgers he’d already flipped.
Cabbot presented Ellie with a smooth, brown stone he’d found on the shore. “For my new aunt.”
I looked at my sister. Had she told him to do that? She shrugged to show me her cluelessness.
“Awww,” everybody said.
Ellie turned the stone in her hand. “I’ll keep it in a special place.” She had such warmth, a real nurturing soul. Some people are born to be mothers. They know just what to say to encourage you or to make it all better when you fall out of your tree house and skin your knee. Ellie was one of those people.
Mom sat back and smiled proudly. “I wish your father could’ve seen this.”
I thought about him. Looking up at all the stars, I wondered if he was among them, if he would approve. Mom could see the questions on my face.
“I’m sure now that he’s an angel, he knows it’s all right. Once they get on the other side there’s no discrimination. That only exists among the assholes down here.” Mom could say anything and still sound like Donna Reed. She sipped her wine daintily. Under her platinum perm and elegant façade, there was a whole other person none of us really knew.
Then a terrifying thought hit me. “When are we doing this?”
“In two days,” Ellie answered.
“Longer than a weekend. What about the kids and the cat?”
“Greta’s bringing the kids up for the ceremony and leaving Cookie at her place.”
“Okay, right.” I reminded myself that Cookie liked our neighbor. It took a while, but she’d eventually warmed up to Greta, only hissing at her once. The little fuzz ball preferred to stay at a place she knew, as long as her food bowl was full. And Greta had one of those cat jungle gyms that Cookie would likely stare at but never use.
Joanne laughed. “No offense, but everything freaks out that cat.”
I scanned the deck. My family would be here for this occasion. “Anyone else coming?” I asked.
“Fran and Morgan,” Ellie replied.
“Aw, really? I love them.”
Mom was confused.
“Our friends in Vermont,” I explained.
They were probably anxious to get out of their barn-like house where they rarely saw civilization.
“They’re lesbians?” Nathan asked.
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Their truck barely runs, but they came all the way to a Boston hospital just to be there for that muscle spasm scare Ellie had last year.”
“Isn’t that nice?” Mom marveled.
“They’re natural-type, granola lesbians,” I warned, fearful that anyone might make some insensitive comment, particularly Nathan. “They live off the land, growing their own vegetables and berries. They leave all their doors open when they sleep at night, and these giant horseflies get in, but nobody seems to care.”
I remembered our last visit.
“They were nuclear-size flies,” I told my sister, who winced in disgust. “And they didn’t even shoo them!” As I remembered, they just kind of let them hang out, like additional guests. They’d swirl around our food, and I was flapping my hands all over the place while Ellie laughed at me.
Morgan had said, “If you leave them alone, they don’t usually bite.” Usually.
I knew Ellie didn’t like it either, but as I told the story, she touched my leg to calm me down. “But did you see that view? They keep everything open because you’re right against this mountain with this valley…”
“I don’t care. You’ve got some big-ass flies you need to keep out.” I gulped my beer. “When they get here, we’re keeping that door closed.” I pointed to the slider.
“Don’t worry,” Ellie said. “They’re staying next door.”
“Good,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong. They’re wonderful people.”
Mom seemed disturbed. I knew I’d gotten my feelings for the great outdoors from her. At least when you stayed in a hotel you could get cute little soaps and shampoos to take home. But staying in the woods your only souvenir might be a laceration from a hungry bear or a rash from peeing on leaves that you didn’t know were poison ivy, because let’s face it, who’s really paying attention in biology class when they start talking about plants?
“What about clothes?” Different thoughts were shooting across my mind and scaring me.
“We’ll be wearing some,” Ellie joked. “It isn’t that kind of wedding.”
“Dang,” Nathan joked.
“Get serious. I’m not wearing some bridal gown or a tux. Straight people think one has to be the man, the other is the woman.” I turned to my sister and brother-in-law. “Not you guys. But a lot of people think that.”
“I was imagining some dressy outfit with pants for both of us.” Ellie reached for my hand again.
“Oh, really? Pants? On your special day?” Mom was liberal but stuck in the 1950s. She approved of her lesbian daughter’s wedding, but she preferred we wear twirling dresses or poodle skirts.
“Well, it sure isn’t going to be a dress,” I snapped.
“You never did like girls’ clothes,” Mom muttered to herself.
“No,” I said firmly. As a child, I’d always wanted a number shirt. I didn’t know it was a football jersey. I was too young. I just called it a number shirt. That should’ve been the first clue.
“I liked baseball hats,” Ellie added.
“So did I,” Joanne argued. “That doesn’t make me a lesbian.”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Ellie joked.
Nathan got a twinkle in his eye, looking at Joanne. “You sure there’s something you’re not telling me?”
Joanne shoved him hard in the ribs.
“Jesus, woman!” He gripped his middle.
“Don’t be such a baby,” Joanne barked. “It wasn’t that hard.”
“When are we getting these perfectly suited outfits I’ve never seen before?” I have to admit I was very cantankerous about the whole thing.
“I was going to tell you tonight, so we’d have a couple of days to go shopping.”
I exhaled. I tried to keep my thoughts to myself. I looked like I was about to blow.
“What?” Ellie was on edge. Nothing had gone the way she’d envisioned.
“You know how hard my butt is to fit.” I covered my face in shame.
Mom patted my shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We all have a pig in a blanket back there. It’s hereditary. Just don’t go to that dog collar shop I saw on the way in, unless you want a leather wedding.”
I glanced at Cabbot and Tayler, who were still trying to make a sandcastle with this strange new sand that just wasn’t sticking together. They were persistent. I envied them. They didn’t have to buy a special outfit to be who they were. I resented the whole thing, but I didn’t want to be an angry bride, or partner, or whatever I would now be called. That wouldn’t look good in the wedding photos.
“Hey, y’all!” It was Penny, bursting through the front door.
“No one locked that?” Mom said in horror.
“No one read the invitations,” Ellie said to herself.
“Penny!” I shouted, waving her outside. Everyone relaxed when they realized I knew her.
She swooped onto the deck with arms outstretched. “My little girl, gettin’ married!”
Nathan stood up to shake her hand. “I know that accent.”
“Tennessee,” Penny said proudly.
“Georgia,” Nathan countered.
Joanne squirmed. “She’s a lesbian,” she informed him, setting her empty drink in his hand. He was reluctant to refill it right away.
I enj
oyed watching the exchange. Penny had a naturally flirty way about her, even though she played for our team.
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she told me, taking a seat. “Course the prices up here are insane. I’m stayin’ in a little rental shack down the road. It’s got one window and a tiny TV. But what the hell!”
“How are things down in Connecticut?” I asked, handing her a beer.
“Oh, you know. Same old. I’m meeting someone next weekend.”
“Great.” I was grateful to think about something else.
“Yeah,” Penny added. “She’s flying in from Topeka.”
“Another Kansas girl,” I sighed.
“I’m the bride’s mother.” Mom shook Penny’s hand.
“Oh, sorry,” I gasped. “This is my sister, Joanne, Ellie’s brother Bryan, of course you know Ellie. And out there, working on a doomed sandcastle are my nephews, Cabbot and Tayler.”
“They’re precious,” Penny squealed. I could tell her excitement was once again built on the hope that only cyber love could bring her or the promise of it. She’d lost some weight since she last visited us in Massachusetts. She looked good.
“Is Maddie…?” I started to ask, but Ellie’s face answered the question.
“She said she has to work,” Ellie replied.
“Yeah.” I drank my beer to hide my hurt. I finally gave up trying to call or email her. If she wasn’t going to be happy for me, I figured she wasn’t a real friend.
“I’m so glad your wedding is this weekend,” Penny said. “In two weeks I have to fly to Atlanta for business.”
“Ooh, you could meet someone there,” I sang, starting to feel a slight buzz.
“Not if Ms. Topeka works out.” Penny winked.
“Atlanta is a great city,” Bryan boasted. “Gorgeous skyline at night and some cool gay neighborhoods.” When he saw everyone looking at him, he added, “I got lost one night.”
I wondered how he could not know he was gay.
“I’m still worried about my butt,” I said.
“Get over it,” Joanne groaned.
“What’s with your butt?” Penny asked.
“Don’t ask,” everyone said.
“It’s hard to fit,” I replied. “That’s why I hardly ever go pants shopping. It’s painful and traumatic, like going to the gynecologist.”
“Too much information.” Nathan decided it was now time to fill Joanne’s drink.
“We’ll find something.” Ellie touched my thigh. She was getting frustrated. And who could blame her?
That night, Ellie and I argued all the way to the bedroom.
As we changed into our nightclothes…
“Why are you so obsessed with your butt?” she asked.
“I’m not obsessed.”
“I say I want to marry you and all you can talk about is your ass!”
“Shh! You want everyone to hear?”
“At this point, I’m not sure I care!”
I could see it now. We were becoming my sister and brother-in-law, or worse, Morgan and Fran. We were bickering like every married couple I knew. Everything between Ellie and me had been fine. Why did we have to ruin it with a wedding?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Guess Who’s Coming to the Cape?”
We got into bed, and no one said anything for a while. But I could tell by her breathing that she wasn’t asleep.
“If you don’t want to do this you don’t have to,” Ellie finally said.
“Why?”
“Who surprises someone with a wedding? I guess I thought if you didn’t know by now, you’d never know.” She sighed painfully. “I’m afraid you’re going to look back on this as something else I controlled, and you’ll hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I whispered, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “I just thought I’d have more time to get used to the idea.”
“I’m calling it off.” She rolled over. Her back to me felt like a slap in the face.
“What! Don’t! I want to go through with it.”
“See how you said that? ‘Go through with it,’ like you’re having a gallbladder operation.” She turned, staring up at the ceiling. “I wanted this to be a happy memory we’d always have. Now it’s just gotten all gross and weird.” A tear slid down her cheek. I could see it glisten in the moonlight.
“I’m sorry. Don’t cry. Nothing’s gross.” I wiped away her tear and kissed her cheek over and over, until she turned her face. She kissed me, her velvety lips moving over mine as gentle caresses became more intense. Her hands slid under my shirt and we turned carefully, trying to quiet the squeaks of the bed, so no one could hear. Looking at her sad eyes in the moonlight, I stroked her hair and told her everything would be all right.
“Really?” Ellie whispered.
“Really.” Moments passed, as the curtains blew. We couldn’t even hear the ocean sounds in the distance.
At three in the morning, Ellie shook me awake. “I can’t sleep! It’s the damn waves! Constantly crashing. Jesus! They’re too loud!”
I was half in a dream where a mystery woman was about to kiss me, though I’d never tell Ellie that. I drew her close, touched her hair and mumbled something about ignoring the waves, which later I found weird, because most people enjoy the sound of them. It’s what you come to the Cape for.
“Just close your eyes,” I said, “and think about what you want to wear to our wedding.”
Wedding. The word felt clumsy and awkward on my tongue. Was it because it reminded me that she’d been married to a man? I didn’t know where all of the weird feelings came from, but they were there.
* * *
The next morning I choked on my waffle.
“What? When is she coming?” I cried.
“Tomorrow,” Mom said matter-of-factly. “Well, you wouldn’t dream of doing this without your aunt Rita. She lives for this kind of thing.”
“But she doesn’t know…you know.”
“It doesn’t matter. When she heard her second niece was getting married, she said she wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“That’s because she thinks I’m marrying a man!” I yelled. “She’s like eighty or ninety, and she watches Fox News. I’m screwed.”
“We’ll clear things up when she gets here. And she’s only ten years older than I am, so that would make her…” Mom was doing air math, but it wasn’t her strong suit. “Early seventyish.”
“She’s going to lecture me on going vegan again.” I held my head. I couldn’t eat. My stomach tumbled. I must have looked paler than usual with shoulders caving in. Aunt Rita and I had nothing in common. She always talked about growing up in 1950s Miami, getting candy for a nickel. She wore dresses voluntarily. Then she mentioned all the gays crowding into South Beach and showing their butts in thongs and how inappropriate that “lifestyle” was.
This was a nightmare.
Mom continued, “I’m picking her up in Boston. It’ll be a drive, but I thought Nathan could help me navigate. I get so lost in Boston. If you take a wrong turn, you’re immediately in a tunnel that goes on for miles, and when you come out, you’re in New Jersey.”
This couldn’t get any worse. But if life has taught me anything, it’s never to say that things couldn’t get worse. They always can. Maybe in ways you never imagined—but they will get worse.
And they did. Shortly after breakfast, an older man with a white goatee, who was dressed in white from head to toe, straight out of the Civil War, appeared in the doorway.
“Dad?” Nathan slapped him on the back. So this was Owen Hutchins, Nathan’s father and the richest man in Augusta, Georgia. I’d heard stories about him, but almost didn’t believe he was real.
Mr. Hutchins removed his hat, unveiling his shiny, balding head. His face reminded me a little of Colonel Sanders. He winked at Joanne and said in a thick Southern accent, “I came just in case we got us a runner.” He looked at his son.
Joanne smiled and nodded. “Thanks, but so fa
r he’s doing okay. Come on, sit down. Have some breakfast.”
The deck was alive with breakfast food and odd conversation. Mr. Hutchins had changed into a pair of shorts he thought were in style and a Hawaiian shirt that was louder than his booming voice.
“So where are the gays!” he exclaimed, looking around.
Joanne was embarrassed. “This is my sister, Sydney, and her partner, Ellie.”
We dutifully shook his hand.
“Y’all don’t look it,” he smiled, glancing us up and down. I believe he thought he was giving us a compliment.
“Well, I keep my tool belt in the car.” I couldn’t resist.
“Hey now, that’s funny.” He slapped me on the back. “You gals ever been down South?”
“I’m from Florida,” I told him.
“No kiddin’. Whereabouts?”
“Orlando.”
He seemed confused.
“Same as Joanne,” I explained.
“I told you Joanne was from Florida,” Nathan said, pouring his dad’s coffee.
“I’m an old fart,” Mr. Hutchins retorted. “You expect me to remember anything? Why you think I got other people runnin’ my businesses? I need to retire.” He looked out at the ocean with frustration in his eyes.
Years of wrinkles from the Southern sun and lines of stress from meetings and conference calls had left their mark all over what was once a handsome young man’s face. I marveled at him for a moment—first, because he was willing to attend a lesbian wedding in order to help his son with his phobia, and second, because he’d lived in the same town his whole life.
I’d lived in many cities all over the country. I used to joke that I was working on getting a driver’s license from every state. But the truth was, I’d followed different girlfriends to the places where they needed or wanted to be. My first girlfriend’s job transferred her to Ohio, so I immediately bought a Cincinnati Bengals hoodie. Then another had a love of the great outdoors and the Old West, so the next thing I knew I was wearing a Denver Broncos hoodie. Now I had a New England Patriots hoodie. I’ve been keeping the NFL successful for many years. But I wondered—had I molded myself to fit into the lives of each girlfriend? Was I doing the same with Ellie? No, this time it was different. It may have started out that way, with the New England Patriots bumper sticker, but as I’d gotten to know Megan and Matthew and remembered how much Ellie encouraged me with my work and my own identity—this time I knew it was real. I was no longer the refugee, the lost girl, traveling from city to city, trying to find herself in every skyline.
The Comfortable Shoe Diaries Page 18