“And what are you up to? Where do you work now?”
“I work for a finance consulting company called Blue Stone, based in Austin. But we have clients all over the country, which is why I’m consulting in Philly right now,” said Jena, wishing that she could figure out where this conversation was really going to go. It was a good sign that her mom hadn’t hung up yet, but the other shoe was going to drop soon enough.
“Are you coming back to Austin for Christmas, then? Do you have a boyfriend, or a husband?”
Jena sighed. “No, Mom. I don’t have anyone.”
“You’re what, in your thirties? About time you found someone.”
“I might have…”
“Well, we’d love to meet him.”
There it was. She was in deep denial, trying to force Jena to admit that she was actually straight, which she wasn’t.
“It’s not a he, Mom,” Jena said, sighing again.
Of course, she could find a man, maybe… But women were so much more appealing. And she wasn’t going to find a male partner just to please her awful mother.
“Well. I was going to invite both of you to the house for Christmas, but it looks like we don’t have much to say to each other.”
Jena knew she had a lot to say to her mother, but if she was going to be like this, what was the point? She wasn’t going to listen to a word Jena had to say.
“I guess not, Mom.”
“Goodbye, then. Call us again if you’ve changed your mind.”
She hung up before Jena could say anything else, and she was left staring at her phone, despondent. The adult Jena had expected this completely, but the inner child… The inner child was practically bawling, and Jena could feel the searing pain in her heart—the pain of rejection.
Parents were supposed to love you unconditionally, no matter what. That was what they were supposed to do. It was very hard to accept that she had defective parents. But then, they thought she was defective.
If she went out for lunch, maybe asked Tim if he wanted to come, she could perhaps forget about this conversation and pretend it had never happened. Maybe she could gather up the courage to delete her mother’s number from her phone for good, so she could stop maintaining the illusion that she’d come around some day.
But she didn’t feel like seeing Tim, or anyone. She wanted to be alone, so she could wallow in her loneliness. She was all alone in the world. She didn’t have anyone.
She remembered the one time she’d visited Maggie’s parents after Christmas. Their house had been so warm—not just literally, but emotionally. Jena had felt so accepted there. And that had been back in the late ‘90s, when gay rights hadn’t at all reached the level it was at now. Maggie’s parents had been pretty progressive.
And that was probably where Maggie would go for Christmas. And all of Maggie’s friends had their partners, if they didn’t have families to go back to.
Jena was the only one who had no one. She’d never before felt it as viscerally as she did now.
She slid down in her seat even further and felt tears prick her eyes. She could not cry at work—how pathetic would that be? A grown adult crying because she felt lonely?
But she couldn’t deny her emotions. She felt absolutely miserable. Christmas was about love—spreading love, and spending time with your loved ones. When you didn’t have either, what did you have? A lot of money in the bank? A healthy portfolio? A big house you lived in all by yourself?
Jena had nothing to show for her time on Earth except the material trappings of human society.
Maybe she did need God. That thought gave her a chuckle, but the tears broke their tension and streaked down her face. She wiped them on her sleeve and reached for a tissue, glad that she had her own office where no one could see her.
How was it possible for her life to end up like this? When she’d been in college, she’d imagined herself having a better life. She thought it would truly get better, and that she’d have a family and everything. But no one had ever been able to replace Maggie—not that she’d given them a chance to.
Someone knocked on her door just then, and she finished wiping her face. “Come in!”
It was Tim. “Hey, I was just wondering if you wanted to eat lunch together?”
He seemed upset, and Jena was all too willing to distract herself from her own problems by focusing on someone else’s.
“Sure,” she said, reaching down to retrieve her lunch bag. She offered Tim the seat across from her desk. “What’s the matter? You seem upset.”
“You seem upset,” Tim countered. “You look like you got some very bad news.”
Jena scoffed. “My mother is being difficult. No surprises there.”
Tim gave her a look—that youthful look, which was simultaneously wise and naive. Tim was a smart guy, but there was so much he didn’t know about the world, that he couldn’t know. And anyway, his parents grudgingly accepted his queerness, so he was better off than Jena in that regard.
“Well, I guess I’ll tell you what happened. Somehow, my team figured out that I’m gay. And, um, it didn’t go well.” Tim poked at his sandwich. It didn’t seem like he had much of an appetite, and neither did Jena.
“Jeez. I’m so sorry,” said Jena. A pang of guilt streaked through her—had her offhand comment to her coworkers outed Tim? But no, Jacob and Alex didn’t have any contact with the people here—that was Jena’s job. So it had happened some other way.
Tim shrugged. “It’s not obvious, but Allen sneeringly told me that he knew there was a reason I was so interested in social justice. As if that’s a bad thing. As if it’s bad to care about whether companies discriminate.”
Jena’s heart sank. “It’s not, and you know it. You’re doing the right thing. We’re on the right side of history.”
“I know, but it doesn’t feel like it some days. I took your advice and I’ve been looking for other jobs. This place is crushing me. I need to be myself, and I just can’t do that here.” Tim sighed and rested his cheek on his hand.
“Me neither,” said Jena. “When my contract here is over, I’ll probably look for something different, too.”
“About time,” said Tim, smiling a little.
“Keep in touch, will you?” said Jena. “Even after I return to Austin, you can email me or call me. I want to know how you’re doing.”
Tim cheered up significantly with this, dimples appearing around his wide smile. “Sure! Yeah. That’d be nice.”
“Good.” Jena smiled.
“How was your weekend?” Tim asked, abruptly segueing into something more mundane. Jena was glad for the distraction, the memory of her mother’s voice—and her disappointment—fading from her mind already.
“I’m seeing a girl,” said Jena. “But the weird thing is, we dated in high school and lost touch and found each other here in Philly again.”
“What? That’s insane,” said Tim.
“I know. So I don’t want to mess it up, you know? But I don’t know what’s going to happen after I go back to Austin.”
“You’ve gotta make it work. The universe doesn’t hand you opportunities like this that often.”
“I’m very aware,” said Jena. “Trust me. I’ll figure it out. It’s just hard. It seems irrational to move to Philadelphia when we’ve barely been dating a month.”
“But you said you dated before.”
“When we were high schoolers,” said Jena, but Tim was right. It wasn’t like they were complete strangers to each other.
“Still. It sounds like you have something special, and it’s really fishy that you just happened to meet again,” said Tim. “When the universe sends you a sign like that, you can’t ignore it.”
“You’re right.” Jena chewed on her sandwich thoughtfully. “I just don’t know what to do about Christmas.”
“What do you mean?” asked Tim.
“My family and I aren’t close, and I don’t want to go back to Austin just to be all alone in my big, empt
y house.”
“Well, what about this lady you’re dating? I mean, if you’ve known her for so long, maybe you can spend Christmas with her family,” Tim said. He made it sound so easy.
“I don’t want to impose…”
“If she really likes you, which I’m sure she does, then it wouldn’t be imposing. Just ask her what her Christmas plans are and go from there.”
Jena chuckled. Tim was completely right. People his age did make things sound really easy, but then, maybe they were that easy.
Anyway, it was worth a try.
17
Maggie
Maggie had just gotten home from work and had plopped onto her couch. For some reason, today’s commute was particularly difficult. Maybe it was because it had gotten even colder, or because the trains had been running slowly. Whatever the case, Maggie was glad she was home, and she was thankful it was Friday.
She slipped her phone out of her pocket; it needed to be charged, badly. She had to get a charger to keep in the office, but she kept forgetting.
But as soon as she plugged it in, it started ringing. Surprised, Maggie dropped the phone, but when she picked it up, she groaned.
It was Callie.
Maggie thought she’d blocked her ex, but then, maybe she’d forgotten to. In any case, she couldn’t leave her hanging. Or could she? There was nothing to be gained from indulging Callie.
Still, Maggie picked up the call and held the phone to her ear.
“Maggie, you picked up! Maggie, babe, you’ve gotta hear me out. I just… I was thinking about it, and maybe we can do a trial run back together. Like how people do trial separations, except this time, we’d try to get back together—”
“Callie, I’m not getting back together with you,” said Maggie, completely irritated.
“But what if we just tried? Like, I’m not asking you to actually get back with me. We could do a trial. We could go on dates and stuff again, almost like we’re starting with a new leaf. I mean, turning over a new leaf.”
“No, Callie. I’m not doing it. I’m going to hang up on you.”
“No! No, babe, no. Don’t do that. You’ve gotta give me a chance. I mean, isn’t that what love is? When you give each other second chances?”
“I feel like I’ve given you too many second chances, and—Callie, are you drunk? At five pm?”
“Yeah, I just can’t get over losing you! It’s been killing me.”
Maggie sighed. “Callie, I’m done with you. Completely done. Please don’t contact me ever again or I will go to the police and report you for harassment.”
“Holy shit! You are so cold, I can’t be—”
But Maggie didn’t hear the rest of what Callie had to say because she’d hung up on her. And before she forgot to, she blocked Callie’s number. There was no way she was going to entertain the thought of talking to her again.
That was that. She was truly done with Callie. And she really would call the police if she turned up on her doorstep again. Or would she? Maggie was weak… If she saw Callie in person again, she might falter.
But she had Jena. Memories of their steamy evening together flooded her mind, obliterating the shock that Callie’s call had brought.
No, Maggie could survive this, if only on memories of that night.
She scrolled to the group chat with her friends and told them what had happened. The praise came back immediately.
“I’m so proud of you!” said Anna, and Reagan chimed in with, “Hooray! Blocking is good.”
Their support only reaffirmed Maggie’s decision, and she was glad she’d reached out to them. Next, she texted Jena: “Callie drunkenly called me. I blocked her. Thank goodness.”
Jena didn’t reply immediately; she was probably still at work or something. But Maggie knew Jena would be happy for her, too.
Even though she’d just blocked Callie, though, effectively blocking her ex-fiancée from her life completely, she hadn’t predicted the emotional toll it would take. Actually blocking her number made her feel acutely depressed. Not just sad. There was a pang in her heart—the pain of loss.
Maggie had totally cut Callie off. Now there truly was no way they were going to get back together, and the thought of that was just a little bit frightening, even though Maggie knew she was logically better off without Callie, and was now truly free to pursue something with Jena.
Jena texted back then. “Good for you. It was about time.”
About time, indeed. Maggie had put up with Callie’s shit for too long. Maybe the whole debacle with Callie was actually just a detour on her way to a relationship with Jena. But the thought of that was scary, because she thought she was going to marry Callie. So if such an intense relationship, which had almost approached the point of marriage, was a detour, who was to say that any following relationship wouldn’t be a detour?
Who was Maggie really going to end up with, and how was she such a slowpoke compared to her friends? How had they all found someone already?
Maggie sighed. The thought of sitting in her home, all by herself, was making her antsy. Maybe she could meet up with Jena or her friends—or both, now that she knew they all got along together—so she wouldn’t be alone. She needed to be distracted from her own emotions.
She texted Jena back: “Wanna meet up? I’m feeling weird after that conversation with Callie.”
Jena replied immediately, and the two made plans to meet up at the Eagle’s Nest again. Even though work had taken a toll on her, Maggie was always happy—giddy, almost—to be seeing Jena. This was what love was supposed to feel like. It gave her a specific kind of energy that couldn’t be replicated.
Maggie thought about texting her friends to join them, but decided against it. She wanted Jena all to herself.
Half an hour later, she strode into the Eagle’s Nest and saw Jena sitting at the bar. She took a seat next to her friend—when would she become her girlfriend, she wondered—and ordered a beer.
“So… What exactly happened with Callie?” asked Jena.
Maggie rolled her eyes and sighed. “She drunkenly called me and went on this whole rant about how we should get back together, but we should date each other to try it out again… or some shit. I wasn’t having it.”
“Good,” said Jena. “It sounds like you’re well and truly done with her.”
“I am!” said Maggie. “I totally am. I do not need her bad vibes in my life anymore. It just isn’t meant to be. In fact, I’m ready to be with you. Really be with you. I mean, what are we? Girlfriends?”
“Whoa, I wasn’t expecting the conversation to take this turn,” said Jena, looking into her glass pensively. “Yeah, we could be girlfriends. I just worry…”
“About you moving back to Austin, I know,” said Maggie. “But we did long distance once. We can do it again, until you’re ready to move here.”
“Yeah. I mean, sure, I’ll be your girlfriend. I don’t put too much stock in labels, anyway. What we have is very special, and that’s enough for me.”
“Great. Girlfriends it is,” said Maggie. “Anyway, how’ve you been?”
“Okay,” said Jena, looking away. “Um… I talked to my mom.”
“What! I thought you hadn’t talked to her in like, years.”
“No, I talk to her more frequently than that. She always hopes that I’m not into women anymore, and I always hope that she’ll be more accepting. Neither of us ever gets what we want.”
“That sucks,” said Maggie, putting a comforting hand on her friend—her girlfriend’s—shoulder.
“Whatever. Now my problem is figuring out what to do for Christmas. Doesn’t make much sense to fly back to Austin to spent the holiday in an empty house.”
“Duh, come spend it with my family,” said Maggie. The idea came to her so easily, and it was the obvious solution.
Jena raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure I won’t be imposing?”
“Remember how much my parents loved you? They’ll be thrilled to see you again. They
’ll be even more thrilled to know that we’ve reconnected,” said Maggie, her voice getting faster with excitement. A whole fantasy unfolded in her head of Jena being welcomed by her parents, included in their celebrations, feeling loved.
“If you’re really sure it’s all right…”
“Of course it’s all right. We’d love to have you. I know it,” said Maggie with conviction. Her parents were exactly the kind of people who liked surprise guests. They loved to entertain, and she knew they’d all be sad Callie wouldn’t be showing up like she had for last Christmas. Focusing on making Jena feel less lonely would be a great project for the Wilson parents.
“Thanks, Maggie,” said Jena. “I always knew your family was hospitable, but I’m always surprised anyway.”
“It’s going to be great,” said Maggie.
“Yeah,” agreed Jena. “You’ll have to tell me what kind of stuff your parents like, so I can buy them gifts.”
“Will do. And you’ll have to tell me what you like—”
“No, no, no. I am not putting you guys out that much. It’s already extraordinarily generous of your family to have me over for Christmas on such short notice.”
“It’s nothing. Come on. My parents like, get a high from doing nice things for people.”
Jena seemed completely unconvinced. “If you say so…”
“I do say so.”
“What are you doing now, by the way?” asked Jena. “You could come over for dinner if you wanted. I’ve finally gotten into cooking, since it’s too damn cold to go outside.”
Maggie knew what went unspoken—that they could end up in bed together if they wanted. Since the seal had been broken last time Maggie had been over at Jena’s, they were free to be all over each other.
It was amazing how Jena’s company could completely turn Maggie’s evening around. She actually felt happy now, her feelings about Callie vaporized. Having Jena over for Christmas was going to be wonderful.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” said Maggie.
“Great. I’ve got this,” said Jena, waving to catch the bartender’s attention.
“And you’re cooking me dinner? No way! I’m getting this.”
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