“You’re the one who just got broken up with, though,” said Jena. “I mean, how can that work when so many people can’t even make two people work?”
“And you don’t even do relationships,” said Maggie.
“So? I can see a disaster coming a mile away.”
“And what about them looks like a disaster? I’ve never seen them upset or mad at each other,” said Maggie. “You’ve gotta be more open-minded, girl.”
“I am open-minded,” said Jena stubbornly. “I just don’t have a lot of hope for three people when two people can’t make it work.”
“If two people can’t make it work, what hope is there for us?” hissed Maggie.
Jena was silent. “I… I don’t know. It just seems so hard to make a relationship work. Even when people stay together, they may not love each other. And when they seem perfect, it all falls apart.”
Maggie knew exactly what Jena was referring to—her parents and their cold marriage. She didn’t have a great model for relationships—for love in general, really—growing up, and it had obviously taken its toll on her.
“Guys? It’s your turn,” said Reagan, smiling politely.
“Um… It looks like Ana has gone on the offensive. We might want to double back, or just collect more resources,” said Maggie.
“Shit,” said Jena. “I wasn’t paying attention at all. Um, who’s that gray guy?”
“He’s the thief. We don’t have to worry about him for now. But we do have to decide whether we want to build a road, or what,” said Maggie.
It was hard to concentrate on the game when Jena’s words were still ringing in her head. The woman was such a cynic. She wasn’t really against people being nonmonogamous, she was just revealing her inner pain. There had to be a lot of reasons a woman could be single for that long. And this was one of them. If Maggie wanted to be with Jena, then she had to prove that they could make it work.
But how could she do that, when she hadn’t made it work with Callie?
“No one’s really building roads in this direction,” observed Jena.
“That’s because there aren’t really great resources there. But we could try to aim for longest road; we’re in the running for that.”
“Longest road?”
“You get extra points in the end for that accomplishment,” explained Maggie.
“Sure, let’s do that, then,” said Jena, but Maggie could tell she had a lot on her mind. She seemed distracted, just like Maggie felt. Maggie wanted to leave the room with her and sit down and talk to her, heal her pain. If Jena felt like that, truly felt like relationships were all doomed, then it didn’t bode well for the two of them.
The game passed on uneventfully, with neither of them bringing up anything of substance. Ana ended up winning, of course, like she always did, with Elaine and Imani to help her. Drew came in a strong second, and Reagan and Maya tied for third. Maggie had been too distracted by her conversation with Jena—her very presence in this group of friends—that she’d come in dead last.
“You usually do much better than that,” said Imani.
Maggie shrugged. “Off day, I guess.”
“Wanna come outside with me for a smoke?” asked Jena.
Maggie nodded and stood up to put her coat on. They stepped onto Ana’s porch and sat down on the swing there. But this time, there was a space between them, and Maggie didn’t know who’d initiated it.
Jena lit the cigarette and took a drag. When Maggie smelled the smoke, she remembered how much she hated it, even though she’d bummed some of Jena’s cig that one time. It was a vice she was glad to leave in the past. And if she was going to date Jena, then Jena was going to have to quit, because Maggie really couldn’t stand the smell.
Though, was it the smell, or was it what it symbolized—Jena covering up her internal pain with external vices?
“I pissed you off, didn’t I,” said Jena.
“I mean, you just can’t judge other people like that when you don’t even know them,” said Maggie. “I thought it was crazy too, when I met Ana, but I’ve known her for over a decade now and she’s always managed to make it work. People live their lives in all kinds of ways.”
“I guess so,” said Jena. “It’s just… relationships are so hard. And since I can’t even be out as bi at work, it’s hard for me to imagine her being bi and polyamorous.”
“So it’s not about her, then, it’s about you.”
Jena gave her a funny, shrewd look. “It’s always about me, eventually. And I’m sure it’s like that for everyone. The world is just a mirror we use to see ourselves.”
“But then we wouldn’t ever be able to truly see other people,” said Maggie.
“No,” agreed Jena, “not if we’re too self-focused.”
“You should be, though. If you’re having trouble trusting relationships, you need to work on that if you want us to be together,” said Maggie. “I mean, I have my problems, but I’m working on it, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah. What, you want me to go to therapy or something?” Jena scowled.
“Yeah, actually that’d be good for you,” said Maggie sternly.
“The whole world needs therapy.” Jena tapped the cigarette and a clump of ash fell to the ground. “But no, I need to get out of my head, not more in it. That’s what I need. I’ve spent too much time in there.”
“What kind of things help you get out of your head?” asked Maggie.
“Cigarettes, drinking too much, and sex.” Jena laughed harshly.
“One of those things is not like the other,” said Maggie. “One of those things can be perfectly healthy in the right context.”
“I’ve yet to find the right context.”
There was a pregnant silence.
“I guess we should go back in. I came here to meet your friends, after all,” said Jena, stubbing the cigarette out, then picking up the butt.
“Yeah.” Maggie stood up and went to open the door, but she had no idea what to say. She still wanted to have sex with Jena, but it was like the ball was in Jena’s court now, since she’d rejected Maggie last time.
The sexual tension was becoming unbearable, though.
Jena came up behind her and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. Just this one touch was enough to make Maggie ache to feel more. She really wanted Jena—it wasn’t a rebound at all. She truly wanted to know this woman, in the way you could only get to know someone through sex.
But what would she find? She had no idea if she’d even like it. Jena had always been deep like the ocean. There was no telling what kind of shit was lurking in the depths.
13
Jena
Jena didn’t think the night was turning out quite how she’d wanted it to. For one thing, she’d managed to insult Maggie’s friends with her own stupid navel-gazing drivel. Of course the three women could be happy together—they obviously were. Jena just didn’t want to believe it. Love was so tangible for people like that, but she’d only managed to feel that way with Maggie in all her thirty-five years.
Maybe she was just plain jealous.
In any case, she wanted to make things right. Maybe she could ask the women how their situation worked. But no, that sounded too much like she was a tourist of their life. What was there to know about how their situation worked, when it obviously did?
She grabbed a beer from the fridge and peeled away from Maggie, determined to show her friend that she was interested in actually getting to know her friends. Imani and Ana were putting the game board and pieces away, so she went to help them, figuring it was something polite and helpful she could do.
When they finished, they settled on the couches again.
Ana and Imani really did look incredibly happy. They just had that glow to them that showed they were incredibly content with their lives. Jena was deeply envious, feeling the jealousy like a knife in her heart. What would it feel like to be that happy? And how was it even achievable? Once upon a time, she’d thought she could have that with Maggie.
Hell, she’d had it back then. But now…
“So, how long have you guys been dating?” she asked the two women, who were watching her politely.
“A couple years,” said Ana. “I actually met Imani through Elaine. They were college roommates.”
“Oh, wow,” said Jena, genuinely surprised to hear this. “Elaine wasn’t like, jealous?”
“She was,” said Ana matter-of-factly. “But after the initial energy from the new relationship, we all talked about it and things settled down. And now she’s really happy that her two best friends are also best friends and lovers. We just have a lot of love between the three of us, and we had to make sure she felt it too.”
That was incredibly sweet, thought Jena. But she felt even more envious. How could they have such an abundance of love in their lives? Most people were barely lucky to even find one person they felt that way about, or could even tolerate.
“You’re very lucky,” said Jena sincerely.
“We know.” Ana smiled. “But you’re lucky too, you know.”
“I am?” Jena didn’t feel fortunate at all.
“Duh, you have Maggie.”
Jena smiled. They were right. She did have Maggie. And who could count themselves unlucky when they had someone so loving in their life, someone who was so willing to make things work?
“You’re right. I guess I should go find her.”
She left Ana and Imani and found Maggie talking to Reagan and Maya at the kitchen table.
“Hey, I don’t think we properly met,” said Maya. “I’m Drew’s partner.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Jena.
“Jena and I dated in high school,” said Maggie casually, “but we reconnected when her company posted her here in Philly.”
“No way,” said Maya. “That’s… that’s like the world’s greatest coincidence.”
“Tell me about it.” Jena sipped her beer.
“How are you doing, by the way?” asked Maya, addressing Maggie. “I haven’t seen you since…”
Oh man, were they going to have this conversation again, right here? Jena felt uneasy about it, but there wasn’t much she could do.
“I’m doing a lot better now that Jena’s in the picture,” said Maggie gracefully, throwing the other two her biggest grin.
She really was very sweet.
“Reagan, why don’t you tell Jena about your start up?” said Maggie. “She hasn’t heard anything about it. I’m going to go get another drink in the meantime.”
Reagan rolled her eyes. “It’s not that interesting at all. I mean, basically we’re trying make a bigger network of food co-ops. There are a lot of farmers who want to sell produce and other stuff, like milk and eggs, directly to consumers, and there are a lot of consumers who want to get food shares. But right now, there are only these smaller co-ops that operate on a local level. Which is great, but it’s not really scalable, so we’re trying to create something on a more city-wide level, maybe even regional…”
“Back,” said Maggie, cracking open a beer can with a hiss. “So, isn’t the company fascinating?”
“Her start up sounds awesome!” said Jena, turning to Maggie. “I mean, getting to work directly with farmers, that’s amazing. And she’s doing—What?”
“My pronouns are they and them,” said Reagan, smiling primly.
“Oh, uh, sorry!” said Jena, aware that she’d tripped up yet again, but unsure of how exactly she’d done it.
“No worries,” said Maggie. “Anyway, yeah, I’m definitely going to be one of their first customers.”
“I’m sure you’ll get a lot of interest,” said Jena, though internally she was still trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. She’d have to ask Maggie later, though she didn’t want Maggie to think she was totally clueless.
“Thanks,” said Reagan. “We do have a lot of interest already. We have a mailing list ready to go for when the company finally launches. And we have a lot of farmers who are interested. Even beekeepers and people who keep goats and make their own cheese and people who bake bread… Lots of delicious stuff.”
“The best part is sampling it all, right?” asked Maggie.
“You know it.”
“I would know, because Reagan gets me samples sometimes,” said Maggie.
Jena was impressed. “That’s a great benefit.”
A cell phone started ringing and Reagan slipped it out of their purse. “It’s Landon. He probably wants to know when I’ll be home.” They got up and walked to a quieter part of the room.
“Word.” Maggie turned to Jena. “You need another beer?”
“I think I’m good, actually,” said Jena, surprising herself. She was pleasantly buzzed, but she didn’t at all feel compelled to go any further. “I actually… what is Reagan’s deal?”
“You’re learning a lot tonight, aren’t you? Reagan is genderqueer, so they’re not male or female.”
“Oh,” said Jena. “They uh, look pretty female, though.”
“That’s just how they like to look.” Maggie shrugged.
“I don’t like feeling like I keep fucking up,” said Jena. “This is just… it’s such a different world from the one I’m used to. I spent all my time with these old straight white dudes and… it’s stifling.”
“I can imagine. I bet my world is more colorful, isn’t it?”
“It seriously is,” said Jena. “I almost wonder—I wonder what kind of person I would be, if I hung out with this crowd all the time. You all obviously are allowed to be yourselves in this space. You don’t have to hide anything about your partners or yourselves or the way you live your lives.”
“No, we don’t. It’s very special.” Maggie put her arm around Jena and squeezed her.
Reagan returned just then, slipping the phone into their purse. “Sorry ‘bout that. I’m gonna have to bounce soon. Not like, immediately, but before midnight.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Bad, bad day at work. Landon needs his snuggles.”
“He’s a lawyer,” said Maggie.
“Oh, I can definitely understand, then,” said Jena.
“I was just talking to Jena about how it’s so special that we have this space, here, where we can all be ourselves,” started Maggie. “I don’t know how exactly we managed to form it, but it’s amazing. It’s a miracle. I feel blessed every day that I have you all in my life.”
“Aww, honey.” Reagan placed their hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “I feel the same way. Us queers gotta stick together.”
“I wish I had something like that,” said Jena glumly, thinking of how she’d have to go back to Austin and the dreary world she came from, where being bi wasn’t even accepted, much less being polyamorous and genderqueer and who knew what else.
“You don’t? Isn’t Austin supposed to be a pretty liberal city, with regard to that kind of thing?” asked Reagan.
“I mean, probably, but I don’t have much time to go out. I don’t even really have friends, much less ones I can be myself around,” said Jena. She had to shut herself up before she made herself out to be even more pathetic.
“I’m sure there’s a scene, you just have to find it. And I don’t know what your work is like, but you’ve gotta make time for actually living your life. What’s the point otherwise?” Reagan leaned back in the seat, their point made.
“Yeah, I’m figuring that out while I’m here. I don’t want to live to work anymore. I want to work to live,” said Jena. She stared down at her drink, watching the bubbles in the beer float up to the top.
“You can always make changes in your life,” said Reagan.
“But what changes? It seems so difficult.” Jena hated even more that she sounded so whiny, but she truly felt despondent. How could a person change after so many years? It felt like it would take a tectonic effort.
“You just have to live the answer.”
“Live the answer?” Jena looked up at Reagan’s face, for the first time taking in their smooth, oli
ve skin, and almond-shaped eyes with thick lashes. But despite the feminine appearance, now that Jena knew they weren’t male or female, she had the distinct impression of Reagan as other.
She was learning already—that was good, at least.
“It’s from Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet,” said Reagan. They took out their phone and clicked around on it, finally finding what they were looking for. “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
“Could you read it again?” asked Jena.
And Reagan did.
Jena leaned back in her seat and looked up at the ceiling. Maybe the alcohol was actually having an effect on her brain, or maybe she was just in an introspective mood. But Reagan’s quote made perfect sense to her.
“I guess I get that,” said Jena. “But it’s so hard when I feel like I should have lived the answer already. I mean, I’m thirty-five, for Christ’s sake.”
“People figure things out at different points in their lives. I didn’t discover I was genderqueer until college. Now there are middle schoolers learning they’re queer. There’s no deadline on these things.”
A sense of calm permeated Jena’s heart—she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or Reagan’s gems of wisdom, or both. What they were saying made perfect sense, but there was an impatient buzz still. She wanted the answers now.
But that was life, wasn’t it? You never got the answers immediately. You just had to carry your wishes into the future and see how they unfolded.
“Thanks, Reagan,” said Jena. “That’s… that’s oddly helpful.”
Reagan reached out and lay a comforting hand on Jena’s own. “That book helped me a lot. I reread it at least a couple times a year.”
“I can imagine.” She smiled, and Reagan smiled back, a Cheshire smile, as if they knew the answers to the questions of Jena’s life.
But of course they didn’t. No one did. Maggie would say that God knew the answers, but then, maybe the whole point was that God didn’t either.
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