by Karis Walsh
“She and Jake decided to give it until Christmas, so we have to support that,” he said, giving Brooke an awkward pat on the shoulder. “You’ll at least let us know the number and address where you’re staying?”
Andy gave her information to Bill, who recorded it on his cell phone, and then she stayed in the bedroom to give Brooke a few minutes to say good-bye to her parents.
“I was going to tell them,” Brooke said coldly when she returned. Andy was sitting on the bed with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She raised her head at Brooke’s voice. “I was going to tell them about us, that I think I’m gay. But you said there was nothing between us.”
Andy knew pain lurked behind the emotionless mask Brooke wore. “That’s just it,” she said sadly. “You think you’re a lesbian. You think you might want a relationship with me. What if you change your mind? Why tell them things that will make them angry and hurt them if you’re still not sure?”
“I guess you’re right. After all, it’s not like we have anything real between us.”
Andy didn’t answer. What she felt for Brooke was frighteningly real to her, but Brooke still wasn’t sure who she was. She still held on to Jake, to that distant Christmas deadline, and Andy had to protect herself from the hurt she’d feel if Brooke left.
“I guess I’ll get packed,” Brooke said quietly.
“Then home to neutral Switzerland.” Andy tried to joke but failed, and silence fell between them.
*
The uncomfortable silence lasted through the process of packing most of Brooke’s belongings and taking them back to the apartment. Brooke had gained her dad’s reluctant acceptance of her separation from Jake, and that victory was the only thing keeping her in Andy’s life. She had convinced him that staying with Andy while she sorted out her feelings was a mature decision, and it would have seemed too flaky to tell her parents she had changed her mind yet again.
She didn’t have to like it though. It took three trips to get everything into Andy’s apartment, and the physical labor did nothing to cool Brooke’s temper. She could see the concern on Andy’s face every time they passed on the stairs, but Brooke was too angry to care. She had expected Andy to stand up for their relationship, not to betray it. She should have helped Brooke confront her parents so she could get on with life without all this secrecy.
“I’ll let you get settled,” Andy said, once all of Brooke’s boxes were upstairs.
“Fine.”
“I’ll be right back. You won’t leave, will you?”
“No.”
Andy rolled her eyes and grabbed her car keys before she left the apartment.
Brooke started unpacking her clothes without pausing to wonder where she was going to put them. Her monosyllabic responses to Andy’s attempts at conversation gave way to long muttered tirades once she had her privacy, and the combination of flinging clothes around the room and swearing eased Brooke’s tension.
“How could she…” Brooke’s voice faltered to a stop, and she sat on the sofa with a thump. Without Andy in the room as a target for Brooke’s anger, its real object suddenly seemed clear. Yesterday, Brooke had been so concerned about asserting her independence, but the minute she was in a tense situation she had automatically looked for Andy to tell her parents what Brooke was feeling, what Brooke wanted. All of her big plans to seize her new life had fallen apart at the first sign of confrontation, and she’d hidden behind Andy like a mewling kitten.
Brooke reluctantly admitted to herself that Andy hadn’t betrayed her. She had rightly left the decision to come out to her parents in Brooke’s court. Although she had seemed almost desperate to calm everyone down, Andy never tried to take Brooke’s control away from her. She did downplay their relationship, but whether or not they were lovers wasn’t really the issue. Brooke needed to tell her parents how she was struggling with her own sexuality, but her relationship—or not—with Andy was none of their business. Brooke had the chance to be honest with her parents, and she had passed it up. At least she hadn’t given in to their demands about Jake.
Brooke had expected her life to transform overnight, for every new step to be as easy as getting her tattoo, but apparently it took more than a little ink and pain to completely change a person. Brooke looked around with a sigh, finally noticing the mess she had created. She wondered if she had enough time to clean it up before Andy returned.
Brooke managed to get most of her clothes off the floor before Andy got back to the apartment. “I don’t have any place to put my stuff,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Andy said with a shrug. “There’s not much in the hall closet, so I’ll clear that out for you. And we can get a dresser for your clothes. Later, though. Come out with me now.”
“Where?” Brooke asked, reluctant to leave.
“On a picnic. It’s cold out, so dress warm.”
“Are you crazy?”
“All signs point in that direction,” Andy said, putting on a scarf and jacket and grabbing a blanket. “Are you coming or not?”
Brooke picked up a jacket she had tossed on the sofa and pulled it over the heavy sweater she had borrowed from Andy that morning.
Andy drove them to Volunteer Park, parking by the Asian Art Museum. She got out of the car with the blanket and a bag of food from the deli.
“Can’t we just eat in the car?” Brooke called out the window.
“No. There’s a nice place to sit over here, so come on,” Andy said as she started walking. Brooke trotted to catch up and followed Andy behind the museum and down a slope. They saw quite a few people running or biking along the road, but the grassy areas were almost empty because of the cold weather. Andy led them to a small area that was sheltered by trees, giving them a little privacy, and spread the blanket on the ground.
She sat down and started to unpack the bag. “Not much of a picnic, but it’s the best I could do on short notice. We do a lot of weddings here, and Tina and I found this spot last summer.”
Brooke stood stubbornly for a few moments before dropping to the blanket with a long-suffering sigh. She watched as Andy laid out bagels, a packet of cream cheese for Brooke, apples, a container of Kalamata olives, and a dark chocolate bar for dessert. Andy opened a couple of bottles of cream soda and handed one to Brooke.
“This is nice,” Brooke said irritably.
Andy smiled. “It’s impossible to stay mad at someone who takes you on a picnic.”
“Not impossible,” Brooke muttered. “But not very easy, damn you.”
They ate quietly, but at least the silence seemed less strained and Andy looked more relaxed, leaning back against a large rock. She took a drink of her soda, watching as Brooke licked cream cheese off her fingers.
“I’m sorry I let things get out of control when we were at the apartment,” Andy finally said.
“I was there too. I don’t recall asking you to stop.”
“No, but if your parents hadn’t come in…”
“I know,” Brooke said. “Tell me again why you’re so against us having sex.”
“I’m definitely for it,” Andy admitted. “But we’re in the first stages of a relationship. The sex is naturally exciting, and you don’t want to base your decisions on that.”
“So you don’t believe this will last?” Brooke asked, gesturing between the two of them.
“It will last,” Andy said quietly, “if it’s what we really want. But you don’t know yet, and it’s hard to go slow when we’re living together.”
Even though Brooke agreed, in some part of her it hurt to think Andy might want her to leave. “So you think I should—”
Andy raised a hand to stop her. “No, I don’t want you moving out. I kind of like having you around. But what you said to your dad made sense, and you should give yourself time to really consider your options. We just need to make an effort to keep control of the physical side of our relationship until you’re clear about what you want.”
“Well, I
kind of like being around you, too,” Brooke said grudgingly, unwrapping the candy bar and breaking off a piece for Andy while she tried to keep relief from showing on her face. “But I don’t know where all of these high moral standards of yours were the night you took me to bed.”
“Apparently they took a little vacation that night,” Andy said with a laugh as she bit into her chocolate.
“They should get out more often,” Brooke suggested. “But I’ll admit you’re right, and we should try to take this slowly. So I’ll play things your way for now and stick with that stupid no-sex rule.”
She shivered as a cold breeze swept across the grass. “Don’t worry. I’m only coming over because I’m freezing,” she said as she crawled over and curled up next to Andy, drawing the blanket around them and resting her head on Andy’s shoulder.
“Well this certainly helps the situation,” Andy muttered even as her hand caressed Brooke’s back.
“Is it hard to always be the sensible one?” Brooke asked, snuggling closer.
“It sucks,” Andy said. They sat together until the breeze grew into an uncomfortably chilly wind, forcing them to get up. Brooke packed up the remains of their lunch and tossed everything into the deli bag. As reluctant as she had been to come on this picnic, she hated to have it end. She wasn’t accustomed to this sort of romantic gesture, one designed only to make her happy with no expectations to follow. Jake would never have come up with a spontaneous, ridiculous idea like this, Brooke thought before she pushed him out of her mind and started walking up the hill. Andy came up from behind and wrapped the blanket and her arms around Brooke, matching her steps as they made their way back to the car.
Chapter Eleven
An uneasy peace settled over Andy’s apartment in the two weeks following their trip to Brooke and Jake’s home. Andy resigned herself to the extra clutter, and Brooke’s clothes now covered every bare surface in the living room. The bathroom was a lost cause, but Andy doggedly protected her music room, and anything of Brooke’s that made its way in there was promptly removed and dropped on the sofa bed. The espresso machine was the one welcome addition, and after her first sip of the latte Brooke made with her special blend of coffee, Andy would have gladly given up her bed and slept on the floor if the machine had required it.
Andy could only watch as Brooke silently retreated into sadness while she struggled to build a new life. Her old job and once-active social life had been replaced by a fruitless career search and long hours spent alone in the apartment, and Andy was frustrated by her inability to help. She tried to make her home a sanctuary for Brooke, a place where she had the space she needed to work out the details of her life, but the effort to keep her at a distance was exhausting for Andy. Her self-control was tested daily as Brooke walked around half-dressed after her shower or lounged on the sofa bed wearing one of Andy’s old T-shirts. Andy knew the struggle to hide her sexual frustration often made her sound irritable, so she spent more and more hours playing her viola in the apartment or in one of the practice rooms reserved for the symphony. At least her music benefited from the strained relationship with Brooke, and she was almost looking forward to the concert in December.
Brooke’s one solace had become shopping for food and cooking, and Andy secretly looked forward to the days Brooke spent wandering through the local markets instead of job hunting. She would come home with bags of groceries and spend a few happy hours creating a meal for them to share. She disliked the confines of a recipe, and a few of her inventions had to be tossed in the trash, but Andy willingly took on the role of taster. On the nights when Brooke cooked, she would clear the career guides off the kitchen table, and they would eat together. For a couple of hours, Brooke would discuss spices and herbs while Andy felt the knots in her stomach slowly loosen.
Andy finished her practice one morning and left the music room, expecting to find an empty apartment since it was Brooke’s usual shopping time. She was surprised then to hear voices coming from the living room and smothered a groan of despair when she found her sister sitting on a chair talking to Brooke.
“There you are,” Brooke said with obvious relief, getting off the sofa and coming to greet Andy as if she had been gone for days. “Amy and I were having a chat while you practiced.”
“Hey, Amy,” Andy said and then spoke more quietly to Brooke. “You could have come to get me, you know.”
Brooke shrugged. “I didn’t want to interrupt. Can I get either of you something to drink?”
“Beer would be great, thanks,” said Andy.
“Beer? But it’s only…” Brooke started in surprise but stopped at Andy’s meaningful look. “Sounds good. I think I’ll have one also. Amy?”
“Why not?” Amy said with a laugh. “Alcohol always helps our family gatherings.”
Andy sat on the couch facing her sister. The Goth look was sitting tiredly on the twenty-four year old, but Amy seemed determined to keep it up. It made their parents upset, and so it stayed.
“Well, why are you here?” she asked, hating the ungracious tone in her voice. “I mean, I haven’t seen you in a couple of months.”
“I know, and apparently you found yourself a new girlfriend since I saw you last,” Amy said with an unattractive sneer on her face.
“I’m not her girlfriend,” Brooke corrected as she returned with three beer bottles. She handed them around and dropped next to Andy on the sofa. “I’m just staying for a while.”
“Cheaper than a flight to Geneva,” Andy said and was rewarded with a smile and a jab from Brooke’s elbow. They had taken to calling Andy’s apartment Switzerland after Brooke’s conversation with her dad, but Andy knew her true feelings for Brooke were anything but neutral.
Amy watched their small interchange and laughed. “Oh, please tell me you’re bringing her to Thanksgiving dinner! I can’t wait to see the folks’ faces when the two of you show up.”
“She is not coming to Thanksgiving with me,” Andy said in a steely voice, not missing the flicker of pain that crossed Brooke’s face.
“Chickenshit,” Amy laughed.
“I’ll make some sandwiches for lunch,” Brooke offered quietly, getting up and collecting Andy’s already empty beer bottle. Andy glared at her still-laughing sister and followed Brooke to the kitchen.
Brooke ignored her and reached into the fridge for another beer, but Andy grabbed her arm and forced her to turn and face her.
“Don’t,” she pleaded. “Don’t think I’m ashamed of you or that I don’t want to spend the holiday with you.”
“Then why…” Brooke faltered as Andy’s hand slid down her arm and along her waist, pulling her close. “Why are you so determined to make everyone think we’re not, well, whatever we are?”
“Look, my family doesn’t really accept that I’m a lesbian. It’s just not something we talk about.”
“What do you do, rent a guy for the holidays?”
Andy shook her head with a small laugh, not wanting to move away from the brief closeness she was feeling with Brooke. This was the first time they had touched since their picnic, and all she wanted to do was kiss her. But she had grown too accustomed to dealing with family issues on her own, not turning to anyone else for comfort or sympathy, so she reluctantly moved away.
“We just don’t talk about it. As long as I never mention that I’m gay, we do all right. I wouldn’t subject you to them.”
Brooke reached out to touch Andy’s arm, but Andy shied away from her hand and glanced at the kitchen door. “I was kind of hoping we’d spend the holiday together since I’d rather not go home. I know I’ll be the main topic of conversation at our family dinner, so I already told Mom I have other plans. We could just tell your parents we’re old friends or something.”
Andy’s face hardened. She had learned long ago to keep her friends, and later her girlfriends, far away from her family. “You don’t understand. I will not take you there.”
Amy walked in and set her empty beer bottle on the count
er, looking at their faces. “Don’t tell me the lovebirds are having a fight,” she said with a playful frown. “I’d hate to break up a happy couple.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Andy said between gritted teeth as she grabbed two beers and herded Amy back toward the living room. She glanced back at Brooke who was watching her with one of those unreadable expressions. “You don’t have to make food for us. She won’t be staying long.”
Brooke waved her away and quickly assembled ingredients for some simple sandwiches. Andy’s behavior puzzled her. She seemed so sure of herself, but both with Brooke’s parents and her own she was determined to hide any trace of their relationship. Brooke wouldn’t discuss this in front of Amy since she so obviously rattled Andy, but as soon as she was gone, Brooke was going to get some answers.
She returned to the living room to find the two sisters stiffly talking about Amy’s job at a local record store. She handed out plates of sandwiches and chips to the two women who seemed too different to be related. Amy was all harshness, from her overdone black and ghostly makeup to her bitter voice and words. Brooke wouldn’t call Andy soft, but there was a kindness and sensitivity to her that seemed totally lacking in her sister. Her expressive eyes and hands betrayed a sensuality that she tried to hide for some reason, but Brooke knew it was there. She had seen it first hand when—
“What is this?” Amy’s question jolted Brooke out of her dangerous line of thinking. Amy had lifted the top piece of bread and was picking at the contents of her sandwich.
“It’s vegetarian lunchmeat,” Brooke said, taking a bite of her own lunch. She was getting used to the taste of the stuff, especially when she disguised it with veggies and condiments.
“Oh, you’re still on that trip?” Amy asked, picking at the sandwich until it was just tomato and stone-ground mustard. “Well, at least you’ll get some turkey at Thanksgiving.”
“What?” Brooke asked. Andy glared at her sister and waved off Brooke’s question. “Tell me,” she insisted. “What did she mean by that?”