Somewhere Unexpected

by Suzanne Glidewell

  I shook my head, irritated by how she was generalizing everything.

  “That’s not how it is. I didn’t just stop being Catholic; that’s not how it works.”

  “So then how does it work? It seems pretty simple to me; you either subscribe to a religion or not.”

  “What I subscribe to isn’t the point,” I tried to get away from having to define exactly what I believed.

  “Then what is the point, Thomas?”

  I paused, trying to sound rational and not defensive. “The point is, it’s narrow-minded to say that all priests are weird or all Catholic women are stupid. It’s just not true.”

  “So you’re telling me that you’re okay with those people wanting to outlaw abortion and birth control and gay marriage? Because I think that’s pretty narrow-minded,” she replied sharply.

  “Not everyone who’s Catholic thinks that way.”

  “Well then they shouldn’t be Catholic,” she fired back.

  “That’s not how it works,” I said again, knowing it was a poor response.

  “You keep saying that, so then why don’t you tell me how it works?” she challenged.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted with a sigh, rubbing my forehead. “I don’t know how it works.” She looked at me expectantly.

  “I just know that there’s more to it than what you’re saying, and there’s too much good that comes from it to completely write it off as an institution that only causes harm.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. I looked over at her and something felt different, even though she looked exactly the same. There was no desire to sleep with her anymore, not after knowing everything she had just shared.

  It was the first time that knowing a woman’s opinion about something had prevented me from wanting to sleep with her. I couldn’t think of a time when there was ever a woman as good-looking and as willing as Ashland when I’d let anything get in the way of having sex with her, especially for the first time. Sleeping with her was probably always going to be a pointless endeavor with no real meaning beyond momentary physical gratification…so why she had suddenly dropped below some sort of standard that I didn’t even know I had until that moment was lost on me. But the fact remained; it just wasn’t worth it anymore.

  “Well, I didn’t really expect to have such a heavy discussion tonight,” she softened her tone. “How about we go upstairs and you finally let me take advantage of you.”

  She unfastened her seatbelt and leaned towards me. I stared forward, part of me wanting to turn her down before she made contact with me, the other part wanting to not care, like I had done so easily with women in the past.

  “I think I’m just going to go home.” It came out half-heartedly, not enough to stop her advance. She began kissing my neck and moved up to my ear.

  “You know, there’s really no point in playing hard to get anymore,” she whispered.

  I kept my hands on the steering wheel, desperately wanting to be strong enough not to give in. A voice in the back of my mind rationalized that she didn’t care about the difference in opinion, so there was no reason for me to let it get in the way of something that was going to feel so good.

  “Ashland, I don’t think this is going to work out,” I announced, glad that there was finally conviction in my voice. She backed away and stared me down.

  “What?” The confusion was evident in her voice. “You don’t think what? All because I spoke my mind about a fucked-up church and belief system that you said you didn’t even care about before?” she raised her voice.

  “I never said that,” I argued quietly.

  “You clearly gave me that impression. I can’t believe you had me wait a whole fucking month for this,” she laughed with disbelief. “You know what? No, it’s fine, I really would probably regret sleeping with a misogynistic, homophobic, hypocritical asshole. So thank you for sparing me.”

  She got out and promptly slammed the door before storming into her building. I sat there for a moment, her final words replaying in my head. I felt shitty, but thankful I wasn’t going to have one more thing in my life to regret.

  MAURA

  It was a little after eleven thirty and the gala was coming to an end, with only a few lingering guests left in the ballroom. I volunteered to be the last of our staff to leave the event. Before I went to search for Ethan, who I had lost track of earlier, I stopped by the bar to get one last glass of wine. It was only my second of the evening. Fundraising had left me preoccupied. I was savoring my first taste when I heard Sean’s voice.

  “Always a good idea to score as much free booze as possible,” he said, joining me.

  “Is that what you’re teaching the college kids?”

  “So, how did the youth center fare tonight? It looked like there were a lot people talking to you,” he observed.

  “I was killing it tonight,” I proclaimed proudly.

  “You usually do. Maybe we can get you to be in charge of fundraising for Newman.”

  “Oh, and take all the fun away from you? Sorry, homeless teens are a slightly easier sell than a church serving mostly privileged college kids.” I took a drink.

  “So, where’s your date?” Sean asked, glancing around the bar area.

  “I don’t know. He wandered off to talk to some priest from Mercer Island about three hours ago. Knowing my luck, he’s probably halfway to the seminary by now.”

  “Would you feel lucky if that happened?” He attempted to ask the question nonchalantly, but I knew he was dredging up our last one-on-one conversation.

  “Not half as lucky as I felt when you left,” I answered smartly, not even bothering to look at him when I replied. He wasn’t going to wreck my good mood; not tonight.

  Ethan walked back into the ballroom and looked around before spotting Sean and me. He didn’t smile when we made eye contact.

  “You must be pretty proud of this lady tonight,” Sean said to him once he stood before us.

  Ethan raised his brow.

  “She was inspiring a lot of generosity tonight,” Sean clarified.

  “Are you ready to go?” Ethan turned to me, not acknowledging Sean’s comment. This was the coldest I’d ever seen him act. My smile disappeared for the first time that night.

  “Uh, sure,” I responded quietly, putting my glass down on a nearby table. “Have a good night, Sean.”

  Ethan barely nodded goodbye.

  We walked in silence out of the hotel and continued to stand that way as the valet retrieved his car. He hadn’t touched me since returning. Ethan being upset was foreign territory to me. I tested the waters.

  “Did you have a good conversation with Father Henderson?” I asked once we were settled in the car and on our way home. He was probably frustrated that I had stayed so late and didn’t pay very much attention to him throughout the night. Right?

  “Yeah, it was fine,” he was curt.

  More silence followed. I could not stand it when I knew someone was mad at me but refused to provide any sort of information why. Not giving him enough attention seemed to be the most logical guess.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t spend more time with you tonight.” As usual, I wanted to avoid arguing altogether, so I skipped ahead to apologizing.

  Maybe I should explain why I wasn’t able to spend very much time with him…but he may not accept the reason…and we would end up arguing.

  “It’s fine, Maura. I knew you were working. I didn’t expect very much attention tonight.” His tone was even. There was still tension though – and more silence. If I tried hard enough, I could wait out the silence. After five minutes, which felt like an hour, I couldn’t.

  “Is something wrong?” I finally asked.

  He shook his head, like he expected me to know the answer to my own question. We exited the freeway. I looked at him expectantly, hoping my stare would some
how force him to talk. He let out a heavy sigh, taking a moment to consider whether he should tell me or not.

  “At what point were you going to tell me you are in favor of gay marriage?”

  I stayed quiet. It was pointless to act like I hadn’t hidden it from him.

  When I didn’t respond, Ethan continued. “I felt like I didn’t even know who you were tonight.”

  I waited for him to say something else; this time the silence didn’t bother me.

  “Maura, you have to respond,” he said firmly.

  “Is it such a big deal if I’m okay with a secular government providing marriage equality for everyone? No one’s saying the Catholic Church, or any church for that matter, has to provide it.” I deflected from my deception.

  “Maura, it’s blatantly against Church teaching. Are you okay with a secular government letting people marry farm animals too?”

  Okay, now I was annoyed.

  “Why is it you people always go right to comparing being gay to bestiality? It’s offensive and obviously not the same thing,” I raised my voice. No point in censoring myself anymore.

  “What do you mean ‘you people’? You mean Catholics? Like what you claim to be?” he raised his voice back.

  “No, people who oppose gay marriage. We live in a pluralistic society. We can’t force people to live like Catholics or any other religion when they’re not. Otherwise none of us would ever get to eat bacon.” So it wasn’t the best point, but it was the first one that came out of my mouth.

  “You really want to reduce this to a joke?”

  “Fine,” I declared. “You want me to be serious? Do you understand how overrepresented gay and transgender teens are in the homeless population? Forty percent! That’s a ridiculous number. It’s because they get kicked out of their homes. Usually by their own family. And given the higher risk for violence against them, they can’t even access most resources for fear of being beaten, possibly to death. They are four times more likely to commit suicide,” I could’ve gone on with more statistics, but he interrupted me.

  “Maura, that’s unfortunate, but it has nothing to do with you agreeing with something that clearly goes against the Catechism.”

  “Marriage represents an idea of a future to so many people beyond any religious affiliation, a hope that they can have a family, a happy ending. The fact that the government came out and recognized that it wasn’t right to discriminate against who gets to participate in that anymore sends a huge message to those kids. It validates them and who they are.”

  “So, this is who you are? Someone who thinks validating people is more important than morality? Care to tell me your thoughts on abortion?” He paused briefly but didn’t really give me a chance to answer. “On second thought, I don’t think I can handle it right now,” he assumed the worst of me.

  We made it to my building. He took a deep breath and turned to look at me. “Why? Maura, why were you keeping all of this from me?”

  “Because I knew you were going to react this way.”

  “So you just thought you wouldn’t say anything and hope I wouldn’t notice when you took me as your date to Sydney’s wedding?”

  “Well, obviously I wasn’t going to take you to the wedding. I’m not stupid,” I muttered.

  He continued to stare at me, expecting more of an explanation. He had every right to be frustrated with me.

  “You just seemed to like me so much, at least who you thought I was...and I just thought...maybe I should try to be that person...because…”

  “Because?”

  “I don’t know…it was what I was supposed to do if I wanted to marry a Catholic.” It sounded senseless when I said it aloud.

  “Maura, do you love me?”

  “I think so.”

  “You think so?” he scoffed. This, of course, would be the one time he expected me to be more passionate.

  “I’ve been so worried that if you found out the way I thought about some things...you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore,” I paused. “But it never seemed like you really cared to know what I thought anyway,” I offered my only defense quietly.

  Ethan didn’t respond and when the silence stretched out I started to wonder whether he was just waiting for me to get out of the car.

  “Well, I’m glad I found out now versus later,” he finally spoke.

  I just sat there, waiting for him to tell me what was going to happen.

  “This isn’t going to work out.” he sounded disappointed, but I thought he gave up pretty quickly for someone who had said he loved me only hours ago. Evidently, he thought my newly discovered flaws were irredeemable. Guess I wasn’t worth fighting for.

  “I’m sorry,” I said reflexively. I knew I wasn’t really all that sorry.

  “Maura, there’s no need to be sorry,” he said, logical as ever. “Maybe, next time though, be a little bit more honest about who you are and what you want.”

  I wanted to tell him that life was more complicated than just following what was written in the Catechism. I wanted to tell him that loving someone meant actually taking time to learn and appreciate what someone believed rather than rejecting them at the first sign of disagreement. And I really, really, really wanted to tell him that skiing was stupid. But I didn’t. It was a waste of time, just like our relationship.

  Instead, I simply nodded and let myself out of the car to head back to my apartment, failing once again to be the person somebody wanted.

  MAURA

  The break-up with Ethan hit me harder than I thought it would, even though I wasn’t shocked by it at all. Deep down I knew it would be over the minute he met Sydney and started to really understand my worldview. It was ridiculous how long I had been able to keep the wool pulled over his eyes – and my own – trying to convince us both that we could be right for each other.

  At least now that the relationship was over, I was less anxious. Constantly trying to be Catholic enough for Ethan had been draining. But stress relief aside, the confirmation that I was a subpar mate in the world of Catholic dating was what seemed to resonate – and hurt – the most.

  Ethan seemed to pick himself back up without any sort of problem; I saw him sitting next to Jessica at Mass two days after we broke up. He even hugged her during the sign of peace. Perhaps it’s easier to rebound when you know that the person you were dating was a fraud and is probably going to hell for voting for too many Democrats. I had no doubt that he was praying for my misguided soul. You know, when he wasn’t busy not making out with her.

  It was somewhat masochistic for me to continue going to the eleven o’clock Mass when I knew Ethan would be there. A healthier person would have switched Mass times, but I reasoned that it would have been a sign of weakness to avoid him. Additionally, I didn’t want him assuming that I had stopped attending altogether, giving him any more reason to believe that I wasn’t a “real” Catholic.

  However, after three weeks of feeling like no one in the young adult group acknowledged that I was even there, I concluded that in the separation, Ethan had gotten custody of the eleven o’clock Sunday Mass and the Wednesday evening Mass. Apparently it wasn’t just the Amish who were into shunning.

  God, I can’t believe I probably would’ve said yes if he’d actually asked me to marry him.

  This thought had been popping into my head routinely since the breakup. It was ridiculous how much I had been willing to overlook just because Ethan was devout and decent looking. While I was relieved, that feeling didn’t last long because it always led to acknowledging I was alone again and that I might never find the “right” person...because ultimately, there was something wrong with me.

  Wow. Awesome depressive thought, Maura. You should write greeting cards.

  When Sydney’s birthday rolled around four weeks post-breakup – not that I cared enough to keep track – I was happy there was fina
lly a distraction from the thought of my impending spinsterhood, at least for one night. Sydney wasn’t usually one to have large-scale celebrations, but because of her repeated statements that twenty-six wasn’t a big deal, Julie had responded by making it a big deal. She planned for a bunch of us to meet up at R Place. It was a three-story dance club and, of course, outlandishly gay. It was an obnoxious atmosphere that Sydney had only tolerated once on her twenty-one run five years earlier, and neither of us had been there since.

  Even though I wasn’t looking to meet anybody, especially at a gay bar, I still put extra effort into my hair and makeup. It was just part of the breakup process, attempting to regain some of my self-esteem through vanity. Yet another vice I’m sure Ethan would have been appalled to know I possess. I hated that I thought about him more now that we weren’t together than I ever had when we were dating.

  That’s over. Do not to think about him for the rest of the night.

  Julie texted as I approached the club, saying that I didn’t have to wait in line outside and could just give the bouncer Sydney’s name to be let in. Good news, considering the line outside was already over twenty people deep. Effortlessly, I was let past the rope to enter inside. I scanned the room, glad when my eyes landed on Julie, standing by a table in the back corner. I quickly made my way over to her.

  “Maura!” she greeted, giving me a hug. “You got my text about the door, right?”

  I nodded, happy that the music wasn’t too loud yet, giving me a chance to ease back into the club atmosphere I’d been away from for so long.

  “You look cute tonight,” she complimented my black lace tank top and royal blue camisole.

  “So do you. I guess being engaged agrees with you,” I smiled. “Is Syd drunk yet?”

  “Please,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s a miracle I even got her here tonight. She kept complaining that she was too old to be going out to a club.”

  “I’ll get her loosened up for you.”

  “That’s exactly why you’re here,” she smiled back. Before heading over to the other side of the booth where Sydney was, I went to the bar to get her a drink. I ordered two Hurricanes, specifically requesting a light up glass with a pink umbrella. Julie exchanged an amused look with me when she saw what I was carrying.