Tainted by Love

by Jones, Gillian

  “Ohhhhh…that’s another good one. In my mind, I have a million times, but in reality, no, I never have. I still haven’t opened that message on my Facebook I told you about earlier. Don’t think I ever will. I like to believe that he didn’t know he was infected at the time, and that he’s sorry. Knowing or thinking anything different might set me back emotionally, so I just kind of roll with my thinking, if that makes sense? Besides, my therapist told me that was okay,” I laugh.

  “Thank you for sharing all of this with us, Trinity. You’re very brave. And I’ve learned a lot today,” she says before returning to her seat, and her words make my heart swell.

  This is why I do this.

  Looking around the room, I realize how grateful I am that I have this opportunity. I’ve come a long way since I began giving these presentations, and I feel more confident than ever, like I might actually be doing some good. But catching the look on the next student’s face, I can tell already this question might be a doozy.

  “Hi, Trinity, I’m Sara. I might be in the minority here, but I agree with that guy you dated. I mean, you have a life-threatening disease. Sure, no-one’s probably ever gotten it from just kissing, but what if you’d gotten all hot and heavy. Would you have stopped to have ‘the talk’?” she air quotes. “Being honest, I don’t think I could ever be with someone like you, or see it the way you do. People deserve to know as soon as they meet you. It’s just mean, otherwise. You know: their body, their choice,” she says, shrugging before walking away. I admit I’m a little stung by her accusatory tone, but then again, I can understand where she’s coming from and decide to use this opportunity to educate them further.

  “Thanks for sharing your opinion, Sara. I hear what you’re saying. I get it, I do. It’s been an experience that I replayed over and over in my mind a million times. I can definitely see both sides. I mean, I get that my partner needs to know, of course, but it’s a struggle to decide when the ‘right’ time to disclose is. I feel I have the right to keep my medical information private, to a point, when I’m first getting to know someone.” I pause. “In my mind, I think it’s fair to maybe wait a few dates before I share my status. But I won’t move around the ‘bases’ until I’ve had the appropriate conversations with my partner, and that includes heavy kissing. I don’t ever want to experience a reaction like that again. It was awful. Does that make sense?”

  “It does, actually. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I nod, glad she sees where I’m coming from. The Jared experience has truthfully left me terrified to try and date again. The feeling of being perceived as a deceitful and vile person never goes away.

  “Hey, I’m Damir.” The deep voice cuts through the tension that seems to have fallen over the room. “I was wondering if you plan on having kids? I know you said with early treatment the chances of mother-to-baby transmission are low, but I’m curious to know if you’d take the risk? And how would you even go about it without infecting your partner?”

  “I’ve actually thought about that a lot. The right answer is ‘yes’, because I believe in the medical advances of today, which include home insemination with a syringe, while others choose assisted reproduction technology which may include in-vitro, intravaginal insemination or sperm injections. There are multiple ways for HIV-infected women to safely conceive these days. But despite knowing all this and all the precautions, the chicken in me would be too terrified to risk it, I think.” I laugh. “I guess I don’t have a proper answer on that one. I’m still not sure, I guess.”

  “Naw, that makes sense. It’s a big decision,” he agrees.

  “Alright, I think we have time for, say…two more.” I look up at a tall girl with beautiful long black hair waiting at the mic.

  “Hi, I’m Saanvi. I was wondering, what’s been the hardest thing you’ve had to do since you were diagnosed? Other than telling your family. That would have been really hard, obviously.”

  “I think having to call the two sexual partners I’d had after my first partner and telling them I was HIV-positive—even though we’d use condoms—and that they needed to get tested was the worst part of it all. It was pretty scary. I decided to do it over the phone to save face. And I’ll tell you, I’m really glad I did it that way. The news wasn’t exactly taken very well, which is fair, I guess. I get that. Luckily, they both tested negative, I found out later.”

  “Next. Hi, sir. Go ahead.”

  “Hey, Trinity. I’m Mr. Fowler. First off, I wanted to say it’s been great having you here for the students today. I think we’ve all appreciated your presentation. I know I’ll be working on a follow-up activity for my classes next week; I see a research project in their future,” he jokes, looking around the room as a few students snicker at him.

  “Thanks. I really appreciate the compliment.” And I do. I always love it when the faculty participates, too.

  “As for my question, I was wondering what you do for a living?”

  “I work at my uncle’s garage. He’s a slave driver, let me tell you,” I say, looking over at Dex, who’s shaking his head at me. “But I wouldn’t do anything else. I have my Bachelor of Commerce from Queen’s and I had just started working for a major finance company in Toronto when I was first diagnosed, but with needing to take care of myself, I had to make some changes. So, I moved back to Stoney Creek and started working at his shop. I’m a multifaceted part of the place. I do all the finances, and I’m the world’s most amazing receptionist.”

  “Sounds like you’ve managed to make a happy life for yourself, Trinity. I’m very happy to hear that. Keep at it,” he nods before leaving the mic. I feel my eyes tearing at his kind words and observations. I really have come a long way from the person I was two years ago.

  Looking up, I see a familiar face.

  “Hi. It’s me, Shane, again.”

  Amused, I welcome him back to the mic.

  “I just wanted to tell you, you’re super hot, even knowing you’ve got HIV. It shouldn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you that.” I feel myself blush, and the audience hoots and hollers. “I guess my question is: are you dating now? Have a boyfriend?”

  “Oh, the dreaded question,” I mock, tsk-ing. “I have dated. Well, I tried is a better answer. Not in the last year or so, though. Trust me, the last guy really let me have it once I told him my status. It really got me thinking about how to date in my world, what was proper etiquette. So, I’ve decided to hold off for now, despite my cousins and their attempts to find me a love connection,” I joke. “Seriously, my friends and family are always trying to set me up, trying to find me my Mr. Right. But I kindly decline the set-ups. For now, I just can’t seem to muster the courage to risk seeing the face of rejection staring back at me again when it’s time to have ‘the talk’. I guess the answer is: I’m working on it.”

  “Well, I’d give you a chance if I were older,” Shane says, and there’s a collective “aww” and hoots from the audience. I have to admit, it’s a nice thing to hear.

  “Thank you for being open-minded and accepting. Now, you’ll just need to step into my time machine so we can age you a little,” I wink, and the crowd laughs. “We’re almost out of time,” I say, looking down at my phone. “Again, I want to thank you for having me today, you’ve been a brilliant audience. I think we’ve got time for one last question…”

  By the time I was done, the looks of pity were gone. And all they saw was me, waving goodbye, as I skipped off the stage.

  10

  Hendrix

  “Thanks for the help, man. Wanna beer before you go?” I ask Cannon, who’s been helping me move my stuff into the shop. We’re both sweating our bags off. These tool cabinets weigh a ton-and-a-half and are a real bitch. Thankfully, he was free to give me a hand tonight.

  The plan is for me to start working at Ignition Inc. full-time on Monday. I wasn’t expecting to start moving in until Saturday, but once I realized how much crap I actually had, I saw that it was gonna take me more than just
the weekend so I popped in today to meet the guys in the shop and get a start on unpacking. Flynn gave me a set of keys last week, so I told my new employees they could head out a little early tonight, and that I’d lock up since I was pretty sure I’d be here awhile. Figured it was a nice gesture, considering it was Friday and starting Monday morning I’ll be their boss.

  “Sure,” Cannon says, and I toss him a can of Canadian from the small cooler bag I brought with me. Normally, I wouldn’t have beer at work but since it’s after-hours and I’m not officially on the clock yet, I thought: why not?

  “This is a pretty nice place, dude. I’m happy for you. I can see how cool it’ll be when you take over and really make the place yours,” he says, popping the tab and taking a long sip.

  “Yeah, thanks. For now, I’m leaving it as-is out of courtesy to Flynn. There’re a few things I plan to fix and update, but I don’t want to make him feel like I’m changing everything before he’s even out the door. Plus the place is half his—until the end of the year, anyway. But, yeah, it definitely feels good to be settling into my own place.”

  I glance proudly around the garage, taking in the four car bays, the door leading to the painting bay, the walls of tools, the diagnostic machine and the waiting room off to the left where Flynn’s office and the reception area are located.

  “Cool. I might have to leave Wheel Wizards, after all. I could definitely see setting up shop in this place.”

  “Anytime, man. You know I want you here,” I say, raising my beer at him before taking a swig.

  My phone vibrates. Pulling it out of my pocket, I see it’s Greyson McAllister, a guy I’ve been in talks with about restoring his old Chevy. I’d been holding him off until I was set up here, ’cause it’s a big job and I needed room to get it right. I’d called him this morning to let him know that I’ll be able to start his job next week.

  Raising a finger, I signal for Cannon to hang on for a minute. He nods and starts walking around the place while I take the call.

  “Hey, Grey. What’s up, man?” I pause. “I assume you got my message. Does Monday work for you?”

  After firming up the details, I slip my phone back in my pocket.

  “That was Greyson. We got the job. I’m gonna need your help with some of the paint details later on,” I say, grabbing my iPad from my knapsack and pulling up the overhaul plan and estimate.

  “Yeah, no problem. Just let me know when and I’ll get it done,” Cannon says, looking down at the plans. After twenty minutes of tweaking a few things, both Cannon and I are pleased with how the classic Chev will look when it’s done.

  “Alright, Brother, I’m gonna bounce. I told Devon I’d meet him at The Dugout for the game. You staying here or coming? It’s Game Two, you know. The Jays might just pull it off this year.”

  “Naw, I’m gonna stay. I gotta shit-ton of stuff to get sorted and set up.”

  “Hen, it’s the playoffs. Fuck, this is important, man. The Jays need us.”

  “I’m sure between you, Devon and Jett, you’ll have ’em covered. I can’t tonight, but trust me, I’ll be there for every Leafs game during the playoffs.”

  “Okay, well, text me when you’re done. We’ll probably head over to Voltage after. It’s ladies’ night, after all,” he says, trying to lure me with the prospect of pussy as he’s walking out the door.

  I rub the back of my head looking at all the shit I still need to do before Monday. Sure, I’d rather be getting my dick sucked tonight, but shit’s gotta get done, I tell myself, before getting back at it.

  ’Cause come Monday morning, I’m the motherfuckin’ boss.

  11

  Trinity

  “Here we are,” Uncle Dexter says, pulling into the lot of the now-closed Ignition Inc., the garage he owns. It’s also where I happen to live.

  When I was initially diagnosed with HIV in Toronto, I thought nothing in my life needed to change. But as the days passed and the news sunk in, the “what-if’s” began, and my overactive imagination started playing on high-speed. After a few weeks of deliberation, Uncle Dex made me an offer, and I decided that moving back to Stoney Creek was the best option. Bearing in mind the emotional state I was in, I needed my extended family more than anything. It’s incredible how many things there are to take into consideration when you’re faced with adversity, crazy how much you overanalyze and dissect every part of your life before you can decide to move forward.

  For me personally, there was no way I was going to spend any more of the time I had left working as an under-appreciated staffer in an overstressed accounting office working twelve hour days in downtown Toronto when I had many other things I could be doing. I needed to have more fun; I wanted to live my life my way, no matter how long I got to live it. Another big factor for me was the scrutiny I’d feared I fall under at work. Once my coworkers found out—if they found out—would the way I was treated change? I mean, look how my own parents reacted, and they’re supposed to love me unconditionally. Would I lose all my credibility and friendships? Would they all see me as the “sick girl” and offer me nothing more than pity? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying all of that would have happened, but that was the scenario that would plague my mind as I was deciding what to do with my life going forward. Sometimes, the voice of self-perseverance deserves to be adhered to, and for me this was that situation.

  When considering places to live once I’d given my two-week notice at Crowe Soberman LLP, I’d called Dex and asked if he’d be willing to rent me the apartment that had been sitting empty for years above his auto shop. Luckily, he thought it was a great idea, joking that he’d be able to save a few bucks having a live-in alarm system. After one hell of major clean-up and a couple coats of fresh bright paint—and Tillie, Nadia, Shannon and I adding a few feminine touches—it became the perfect living space. Then Uncle Dex offered me an accountant/receptionist job in his shop, as well, and I’ve been here ever since.

  Moving above Dex’s shop and starting work at Ignition turned out to be the right decision for me and I haven’t regretted leaving the corporate world once. I love working here; the guys are great fun, and Dex pays me decently. Not that I need much money, considering the pest only charges me minimal rent.

  “Thanks for coming with, and driving today.” I lean over and kiss his hairy cheek.

  “That’s what I’m here for. I wouldn’t miss one for nothin’.” And it’s true, he doesn’t. He never has. He leaves Joe and Brody in charge of the shop to come with me, and never complains about the long drives or the fact that we sometimes don’t get home until after dark.

  “I know,” I say, opening the door. “Send Til my love. Tell her I’ll call her tomorr—”

  Ding—my cell goes off.

  “Shannon?” my uncle asks, because he knows as well as I do it’s my best friend checking in to see how things went. I swear she has a tracking device on me. I get motion sickness when in the car, so I never respond to text messages until I get home. And after every speech, pretty much the minute I walk in the door, Shannon is checking in like she knows the exact second I made it back. I seriously love that girl. Even if she did steal my chocolate pudding cup in first grade and convinced me that it was a great idea to stuff my bra with Kleenex when she sprouted before me when we were twelve. To say that leaving a trail of tissues behind me during suicide drills in gym class wasn’t mortifying would be a lie. She’s just lucky that I’ve always been forgiving.

  “She can wait. Anyway, tell Aunt Tillie I’ll call her tomorrow.”

  “Will do, kiddo. Now go, I want to make sure you get in okay.”

  Pulling out my cell, I wave to Dex before sliding open the text message and reading it as I walk down the side of the grey brick building towards the back, where the stairs to my apartment are.

  Meow. Meow.

  Shannon: Hey, how did it go? Going to bar tonight. Come? Jays game!

  Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, I decide to reply so she isn’t waiting on me, and be
cause I hear Beast. What’s he doing out here?

  “Beast. Come here, little kitty,” I say, looking around the large fenced concrete lot as I text Shannon. Walking toward the garbage bins, I hear purring. Gotcha!

  Me Hey hey, it went really well. The kids were great! No thanks, next time. I’m beat, today was long.

  “Come here, Beast. Trinity has some food for you,” I coo, seeing his little ginger head peeking around the corner of the garage.

  Meow. Meow.

  Shannon: Boo, but okay. Dinner tomorrow? Drinks with the girls next Sat? Mark it down we need some catch up time. No excuses!

  Shaking my head, I pull up the calendar on my phone. Other than working and a doctor’s appointment, the last two weeks of September are pretty open. In fact, my social calendar is always pretty open.

  Shannon’s right. Afraid to put myself out there, I admit I tend to avoid social gatherings. Despite Shannon’s best efforts, I usually come up with an excuse not to join her and the girls when they head to the bars. And most of the time, she lets me. But it’s been a few months since I last caved, and after replaying what Shane and a few of the other students said today, I decide to step out of my comfort zone.

  Me: You’re on.

  Shannon: Did you just say yes to both? Love ya

  Me: I did!

  Shannon: I might have just yelped! No take back!!!

  Me: Whatever. See you tomorrow

  Shannon: Look at my girl committing!

  Me: You won. I gotta go. Have fun. Love ya

  Beast approaches, his orange-striped tail flying high in the air and curled into a question mark shape. I tuck my phone into my front pocket, ignoring one last ding, knowing it’s Shannon saying goodnight, and bend down to pick up the small stray I befriended a few weeks ago. The one Dex decided should be named “Beast”. The one Dex also pretends doesn’t live in the back storage room. The one I’ve caught him petting more than a handful of times now.