by Harper Bliss
Maybe she has.
“May I gently remind you of how you stood behind this very counter making googly eyes at Robin from the first moment you met her.”
“No way. I disliked her when she first came in here. She was so rude to me.”
“She might have been rude, but I was here to witness it all. You were hot for her from the get-go.”
“I truly have no idea what you are bickering about.” Kristin stands in front of us at the counter. “But if it’s about who’s in love more, then it’s ridiculous.”
“Hey.” Sheryl comes out of the back door. “Honey, I’m going to need Josephine for half an hour around eleven. University business.”
That’s the first I’ve heard of that. Around eleven is when Caitlin usually comes in.
“No worries. I’ll be here to step in.”
“Good luck having a meeting with this woman and her absent-minded brain today. Earlier, she was stacking cups in the bottom shelf of the dishwasher. That’s not where cups go,” Micky says.
“Do you know what Caitlin wants to discuss with us?” Sheryl asks, ignoring Micky completely—which is the only way to deal with her sometimes.
“I have a pretty good idea, but I’ll let her do all the talking.”
“I hope she wants to do another guest lecture. If we can tie her down for a few, I will stand in very high regard with the Dean.”
“We’ll see.” I quirk up my eyebrows. “Your usual?” I ask.
“Yes, please. I’ll be working over there,” she points at a table by the window, “until she gets here.”
When Caitlin arrives, I all but forget about the kind of coffee I’m preparing for the next customer. Was it an Americano or a latte? I have to check the order to make sure I don’t inadvertently start steaming milk.
“Hey.” Even the way she greets me seems different, more gentle, more implying certain things. “Can you sit with me and Sheryl for a bit today? I would like to talk to both of you.”
“Sheryl has already told me all about it.” Without asking, I start preparing her flat white. “She’s very curious, as am I.”
“I’ll take it from here.” Micky takes the cup I was holding from me. “You go talk your academic talk.”
Once we’ve sat down, Caitlin launches into her pitch.
“I want to write a book on body positivity and acceptance,” she says. “After you recommended Josephine to me as an expert on the topic, I took a look at her undergrad work,” Caitlin says to Sheryl, “and I would like to enlist her as co-author.”
While this isn’t the first I’ve heard of this, I feel blindsided because she is already involving Sheryl in it. She could have discussed it in more detail with me first.
“That’s great,” Sheryl says. “It would be great for the university as well.”
‘That’s why I wanted to talk to you about this, Sheryl,” Caitlin goes on, without waiting to hear what I have to say. I already work two jobs. I’m not sure I can swing a third one. I’m also not sure if I want to, regardless of whether I can. “To see if we can make her co-writing this book with me count toward her getting her PhD.” She finally looks at me.
I avert my gaze and look at Sheryl instead.
“I don’t see why not, though I need to run this by the proper channels, of course.” Sheryl glances at me. “We’ll also need to look into whether you staying on as my TA is viable if you’re going to take on more work.”
“Okay, look,” my voice is much more firm than I had expected. “This is all well and good, but you’re talking as if me co-writing this book with you is already a done deal. You haven’t even asked me yet.”
Caitlin cocks her head. “I thought it’s what you wanted?”
“That’s the problem. You thought. You jumped to a conclusion without properly asking me.”
“Shall I give you two some privacy?” Sheryl is already standing up. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“We’re sitting here talking to Sheryl as if it’s all a foregone conclusion. That’s hardly fair,” I say, trying to keep my voice low.
“You’re right, Jo. I’m sorry.” Caitlin pulls her chair a little closer to mine. “I wrongly assumed. Got some wires crossed in my head. Did some things in the wrong order.” She puts her hands on my knees. “Will you forgive me?”
“I—I’m confused. I mean, of course I want to help you with this book, but I never asked for a co-author credit. But now you’ve already mentioned it to Sheryl and she’s probably already mulling over ways this will make our department look good. You’ve not given me a choice.”
“I know. I’ll talk to her. I’ll explain.” Caitlin’s palms press into my jeans.
“I’ll do the talking, thank you very much. I can speak for myself perfectly.”
“I’m sorry, Jo.” Since when did she start shortening my name, anyway? She bats her lashes and I already feel myself warming up again, the initial coldness of my anger slipping away as if it was never there. “I stuffed up. I jumped the gun. How can I fix it?”
“By doing this properly. By telling me exactly what it is you need me to help you with. Looks like you have it all figured out already, anyway.”
“I involved Sheryl because I don’t want you to do this for nothing or just because the subject is important to you or because you like me. I want you to be paid for this.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I never meant to imply that you couldn’t. I just wanted to help.”
I wave her off because that’s a whole other discussion, and not one I want to jump into right now. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for us to work on a book together? We’ve only just started seeing each other.”
“Do you think it isn’t?”
“I don’t know. It’s all going a bit fast all of a sudden.”
“True, but fast can be good.” She leans her body toward me. “I’ve taken many chances in my life. I’ve regretted some, but have been rewarded by most.”
“You’re impulsive and used to getting what you want. I’m not.”
“It’s just a book, Jo. Not a ring.”
“A book is a big deal. To me, books mean so much more than rings.” It comes out all wrong and sounds ridiculous.
“Let me explain what I have in mind, then you can decide whether you take a chance on me.”
“Okay.” I let her tell me about her plans for the book, and the gaps in the proposal I could fill in. The research we could do together. The outline she’s working on and how she could try to convince her publisher to cooperate with the university press, stressing the win-win situation for both.
While she talks, I think of how Caitlin is entirely different than any other person I’ve ever met. Deep down, I’m just a simple girl from Northwood. I might have caught a glimpse of the world she travels in, but it’s not my world. I’m not even thirty and she’s pushing fifty. But, by god, I am in love with her. By the time she stops talking, I already know I will take a chance on her. I’d be a fool not to.
“I know I can be a bit pushy sometimes,” she says. “Let me know when I’m pushing too hard.”
“Do we need a safe word?” I joke, glad I can have a laugh again.
“We might do at some point.” She leans in and kisses me fully on the lips.
“Are we in a relationship?” I ask when I see Caitlin that night. I have my reasons for doing so.
“Does it feel like a relationship to you?” We’re sitting in her sofa, our legs intertwined. I’m reading a book; she’s looking at her phone. I’ve never felt more in a relationship than right now, but I’m hardly an expert.
“It does, but I’m not sure about the conventions. How much time should have passed before you can actually call it that?”
“Does it matter?” Caitlin sure does like to reply to a question with a question. Sheryl does it too. It’s what happens when you spend too much time in the Gender Studies department. “You might have noticed that I’m not one who cares much for rules and conve
ntions.”
I tip my head. “It’s hard to miss.” I hook my hands behind her knees and pull her closer to me. “Which is another thing I wanted to talk about.”
“Let me guess?” Caitlin shuffles around to find her balance. She draws her knees into her chest, but puts her hand on mine. “Now that you feel we’re in a relationship, you want to set some boundaries.”
“It would be good to be on the same page.”
“Agreed.” She looks at our hands, then cuts her eyes back at me. “From experience, I can tell you that when I’m in the falling-in-love stage of a relationship, no other women interest me. It’s only normal that all my attention is focused on you.” She gives my fingers a little squeeze. “And I am. Right now. In that very stage.”
My tummy does a funny tumble. Good god. Caitlin James is falling in love with me.
“Me too,” I mumble. “Very much so.”
“Excellent start to our relationship.”
“Couldn’t be better.” I pick up her hand and kiss a knuckle.
“I also know from experience that it’s not realistic to expect this feeling to last forever, even though most everyone is so desperate to hang onto it.”
“Is that when your relationships usually open up?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes not. It really all depends.” She smiles sheepishly. “I might come across as one, but I’m not the biggest expert on all the formalities. To me, it’s an organic process. Respect for the other and, as you said earlier, being on the same page, is of paramount importance.”
“Have you ever fallen in love with someone who wasn’t much into having an open relationship?”
“Quite a few times.”
“And?” I prod.
“It didn’t work out.” Caitlin looks at me from under her lashes. “Which was sometimes very painful.”
“So your freedom is more important to you than your feelings for your partner?”
“No.” Caitlin shakes her head, possibly to give her reply more strength. “It’s not about my freedom. It’s about who I am. I have never believed that two people can satisfy each other on every level for the rest of their lives. I’ve never bought into the sanctity of marriage and I’ll-love-you-and-only-you forever bullshit. It’s a made-up restriction that has ruined many a life.”
“But from what you tell me, your convictions have ruined many promising relationships?”
“I don’t see it that way. How can a relationship be promising or good or respectful of both partners if they don’t see eye to eye on such a fundamental principle?” She strokes my palms with her thumb. “I used to be very militant about this stuff.” She chuckles. “Just ask Sheryl. I drove her crazy with my rants against monogamy. I’ve calmed down a lot since then.”
“But how does it work practically?” I press on. “When you both live in the same city? Some nights you just don’t come home?”
“That has happened, but very rarely.” She slants her head. “Sometimes we had threesomes. Or we went to a play party. Things like that. It’s not about the thrill of doing something behind your partner’s back, which is really what most philanderers are after. Take away that bit, and it all becomes a whole lot less enticing. For me, non-monogamy is about keeping an important part of yourself alive: sexual desire. But it’s still something most people are not willing to address because they believe they can find everything they need with their partner, and some do, or think they do, and that’s great, but that’s not me. I don’t believe in fairy-tales like that.”
I ponder this, nodding, lost in thought. Play parties? Threesomes? Is all of this in my future?
“I know it’s a lot to think about, but all of this is such a gradual process. All you really need, right now, is an open mind, Josephine. I’m not asking you to commit to anything that might not be your thing.”
“I kind of disagree.” The mere thought of Caitlin with another woman while we’re together feels like a punch in the stomach. “I’m falling in love with you. I want to be with you. And even though I can’t predict whether this will work or not, my intention is for this to last. That’s what I will put my energy into. So it’s only fair for me to know what will happen in a few months or years or I don’t know how long, when you propose we open up the relationship.”
Caitlin nods. “I get where you’re coming from. I totally do. But it can’t be my task to pressure you into something you don’t want or can’t believe in. Doing something that goes against your own value system should not be a price to pay for being with me and what I believe in. But, and this might be the most important thing of all, that’s why we communicate. We talk about our feelings every step of the way.”
“Before I met you, I had never even considered it. I did briefly when I read some books on the subject for my course work, but I never even once thought any of that would ever apply to me.”
“Why was that your initial thought?”
“Because… I don’t know. It’s just not how I thought or dreamed about a relationship. Truth be told, I’ve never had to think about romantic relationships much in my life. I’m almost thirty and I’ve had two that I can call that and they lasted less than a year. Right now, to me, it kind of feels like we’re on two different levels here. I’m only a beginner and you seem so advanced.”
“That only means we can learn a lot from each other. Not just you from me, but I can learn from you as well. I have already learned from being with you.”
“Really? What have you learned from me?” She must be joking.
“You taught me a valuable lesson this morning, when you told me off for acting too fast without consulting you.”
“But that’s a general thing. That was just correcting a mistake, something we do every day, no matter who we are with.”
“Yes, but I was in that circumstance because I was with you. Someone else might not have spoken up, or would have just gone with the flow because I was talking about co-writing and book deals. Your convictions shone through for me in that moment. I think that’s a beautiful thing.”
“Hm.” I don’t really know what to say to that. I feel like I’m only skirting the edges of truly understanding what she’s trying to say. I’m attracted to it but I’ll have to go up a few more levels before I can see it all for myself. I need more experiences. More life behind me. More talks like this.
“Think about this.” Caitlin has scooted closer. “When two people who love each other, respect each other and have wide open lines of communication about their feelings, what can really go wrong?” She pulls her lips into a smile and narrows her eyes. I can tell she wants to kiss me.
“If you put it in utopian words like that.” Her nearness is putting a spell on me again.
“It doesn’t have to be impossible. For me, it’s the basis of any relationship. It’s why I never see my family. Because they don’t respect me. For me, nothing is more important in life than respect and I base every important decision on it.”
“I respect you,” I say, leaning in.
“I respect you too.” Our lips meet in a kiss and it hits me that one of the reasons I was so attracted to Caitlin from the very beginning, apart from being a fan girl, is because she was so respectful toward me—which is not a given for a girl like me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Do you know the very first thing the great Caitlin James said to me when we met?” Kristin is looking at me with glee in her eyes.
“Should I guess?” I ask.
“Oh, here we go.” Caitlin mock-sighs.
“She asked, in all seriousness, whether I shaved my legs.” Kristin chuckles. “I was so nervous about meeting Sheryl’s friends for the first time and up comes this chick and, out of the blue, asks me this question. Of course, the shit really hit the fan when I said that, yes, I do as a matter of fact shave my legs.”
“Caitlin shaves her legs now,” I say to Kristin. “They’re so smooth, you wouldn’t believe it.” I don’t even try to suppress my laughter. Kristin and Sheryl
are a goldmine of information on Caitlin.
“That was twenty years ago. And I still believe most women shave their legs for all the wrong reasons,” Caitlin says.
“Why do you shave yours now, then?” Sheryl asks.
“I’m courting,” Caitlin says matter-of-factly.
I burst out in a giggle.
“That’s the reason?” Sheryl continues to grill her. “So before you came back to Sydney and met Jo, you weren’t shaving them?”
“Okay, fine. I was. I’m just as shallow as everyone else. I shave my legs because I like how it feels when I moisturize and—”
“You moisturize as well?” Kristin jabs Sheryl in the arm. “Did you hear that, babe? Caitlin is not as immune to the marketing powers of the cosmetics industry as we always believed she was.”
“Winters on the east coast of America leave you no choice,” Caitlin says, a laconic smile on her face.
“She has gone soft. Caitlin James has lost her fire and is no longer on the barricades. It must be what a modicum of fame stateside does to you,” Sheryl says.
“You’re right. I have crumbled under the pressures of our misogynistic, consumerist society. I should do penance by starting a retreat for women where they can escape the demands of modern life and live without being constantly pinged by their phones, or asked to dress up nicely so they can make their man look good. I’m on it,” Caitlin says in her lecturing tone.
“Can you believe that was almost twenty years ago?” Sheryl asks, going soft herself.
“Twenty years ago, I was only eight years old,” I say.
All three of them shake their head at me. “What are you doing here having dinner with us on a Friday night, Josephine?” Sheryl jokes. “You should be out clubbing.”
“The parties we threw when we were your age,” Caitlin chimes in.
“All for the cause,” Kristin says.
“There aren’t many things I find more ludicrous than standing in a dark room with a bunch of strangers listening to music that’s too loud. It’s just not my thing,” I say.