The Double Life: A Novel By Shea Lynn

by Shea Lynn

  I was somewhat startled by the honesty of her voice and I whispered “Yes?”

  “I miss you” she said.

  My heart melted and ached at the same time. “I know.”

  “How do you know?” she asked me.

  “Because I’m missing you, too.”

  She sighed and I heard her whisper, “I’m sorry, Sweetie.”

  “I’m sorry, too.” I answered.

  And I was sorry. Sorry that I had backed her into a corner. Sorry that I’d forced both of us into a realization we weren’t quite ready for. Sorry that she wasn’t in my arms. Sorry that it wasn’t her that had sent me red and white roses.

  Chapter Fifteen: Sidney

  I finally prepared the Sunday school lesson and when I finished I sat down to call Dayna. The phone rested in my hand for at least thirty minutes as I debated what to say. No answers came and I realized that maybe the best thing for both of us would be for me to just wait until the morning and speak with her then. Maybe by morning, the cobwebs in my mind would have cleared.

  My head hit the pillow, but my thoughts continued to race. Our conversation had startled me. I still didn’t have a response for her. Should I tell her we should end things? Should I tell her to forget me and go back to her husband? How could I do that? How could I lose her? How could we continue?

  I felt damned and dirty loving her so intensely. Like God was watching my every move, taking notes, and shaking His head in disgust. But no amount of me not wanting her could make my center un-swell or my heart not race when she was around. No amount of me wanting to be the woman I thought I should be could keep me away from her.

  Turning over on my left side, I sighed deeply, my eyes wide open in the darkness, searching for answers that were nowhere to be found. Though our climactic melodrama in the front seat of her car had ignited the furious burn of confusion in my mind, my “discussion” with Dayna wasn’t my greatest worry. No, my greatest worry was that loving her was not a phase. I was worried that me wanting her was the re-emergence of the me I thought I’d buried long ago.

  I’d loved a woman before. Loved one so hard and so deep I was ready to slide out of the closet and tell the world. That was fifteen years ago. Before Aaron. Before Devann. Before Aiden. Before my comfortable life in the comfortable suburbs.

  Time and circumstance had made those memories a distant piece of my past. And eventually, I reasoned that my women-loving days were over. A moment that had since passed and would not return. And then came dating and marriage and children and just when I had finally convinced myself that I was indeed a God-fearing heterosexual, along came Dayna Wilkins.

  “What am I doing?” I asked myself.

  I turned over on my back, my mind a jumble of memories. I battled my own self-doubt and let instinct guide me. My fingers picked up the phone and dialed her number. In seconds, her voice was in my bed.

  My heart was pounding as I struggled to find the right words.

  “You made it home then?”

  “I did,” she replied.

  “Were you sleeping?”

  “Dozed off a little while ago.”

  “Dayna?” I whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “I miss you.”

  “I know.”

  “How do you know?” I asked her.

  “Because I’m missing you, too.”

  I exhaled then. Closed my eyes, my head on my pillow, my body reacting to the love in her voice.

  “I’m sorry, Sweetie.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” she said.

  We didn’t talk long. But speaking gave me a little bit of peace. After we hung up, I drifted off to sleep. Even then, I dreamed of her.

  In the middle of the night, I felt Aaron’s arms around me. It was a little jarring to be dreaming of her and suddenly be surrounded by him. In my haze of sleep, I leaned into him and tried to pretend he was her. When I felt him harden against me and reach for my breasts, I knew I was in trouble.

  Suddenly, all I could think about was Dayna. It felt like she was in the room with us. Watching me with hurt in her eyes. Giving me the same look she’d given me as we’d stood on the street earlier that day.

  The calm I’d felt speaking with her had quickly faded away, replaced by a racing anxiety to fulfill the needs of both the man and the woman in my life.

  I was nervous during Sunday school. My lesson wasn’t as polished as it normally was and though I was concerned I was failing the flock, no one in class seemed to notice. We were discussing the anger and pride of King Herod in his quest to kill the newborn King of the Jews. Herod wanted to maintain his power and privilege and eradicate the threat posed to him by Jesus’ birth.

  As I’d prepared the lesson, the message I pulled together reminded me of the pride and anger driving the hatred against gays and lesbians. As if gays didn’t have a right to exist. Just as Herod felt Jesus didn’t have a right to exist.

  I wondered what would happen if my secrets were finally revealed. If I met Dayna on the terms we discussed as we stood on the sidewalk. Would my friends and family seek to destroy me in the same way Herod sought to kill baby Jesus?

  I finished up the lesson on that Sunday and got a warm thank you from the women in my class. Yet the one woman I’d been waiting to see never appeared in our Sunday school room.

  As our church family began to assemble in the sanctuary for worship service, I looked around the crowd and still didn’t see her. My eyes landed on Aaron and his usher partner Caleb. They stood at the entrance to the sanctuary, hands clad in white gloves, handing out church bulletins and greeting the parishioners with warm smiles.

  None of those parishioners was Dayna.

  I was still searching for her when my mother slipped her arm around my shoulders.

  “Good morning, Sidney”, she said.

  Her smile beamed at me and I couldn’t help but return it. “Good morning, Mama. How are you?”

  “Honey, I’m as good as I’m gonna get. You know we were almost late this morning? Child, your father is so slow. He’s still parking the car.”

  I chuckled at this. “I know. Daddy’s just slow by nature.”

  “Girl, that man is gonna be late to his own funeral. Where are my grandchildren?”

  “They’re around here somewhere,” I replied.

  Just then, the music started playing. That was our cue that service was starting.

  “I’ll see you after service,” said Mama. She kissed my cheek before floating away in the crowd, her blue and white choir robe trailing after her.

  I made it to my usual pew and Devann and Aiden arrived shortly thereafter. My father, smiling brightly in his Sunday best, had finally made it inside and was standing at the front of the sanctuary with the rest of the deacons.

  At last, everyone was seated and the choir appeared at the back of the sanctuary. They marched down the center aisle, singing in perfect harmony. That’s when I finally saw Dayna. She was in her choir robe, walking two people behind my mother and when we made eye contact, I finally got to exhale the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding on to.

  I gave a small smile as I watched them walk by. She smiled slightly and looked away.

  The choir sang.

  The deacons prayed.

  The tithes and offerings were collected.

  Dr. Rev. Roosevelt Wood preached.

  And in the midst of all the praise and worship, I knew something was wrong.

  Dayna didn’t make any more eye contact with me. Not even during the announcements. We always shared small smiles during service. Not that Sunday.

  Things were even stranger after church.

  I was standing with Aaron, Dayna, and my parents while the kids ran around with their church friends and enjoyed their little bit of Sunday morning freedom.

  “Cameron didn’t make it today?” asked Aaron.

  Dayna shook her head slightly. “No. He and Nina had a play date.”

  “She is going to wear him out. That brother is going
to need a vacation when you get her back home,” Aaron replied.

  My father said, “Him? Shoot, I need a vacation.” He gestured toward Mama. “The way this woman keeps nagging at me…..”

  As we stood together talking, the changes in my best friend became more pronounced. She avoided eye contact with me. Her gestures were clumsy, off-balance. She couldn’t find her real smile. A few minutes into the conversation, Dayna excused herself to go to the restroom.

  I took this as my cue and followed her. But as we walked, Dayna didn’t wait for me. Her steps were fast and as soon as we made it inside the bathroom, she slipped into the first stall.

  We had an audience, so I milled around like I was waiting for her. It wasn’t long before we were left alone and Dayna walked out of the stall. A lump rose in my throat at the sight of her. I’d missed her all night long and this was the first chance I had to really see her. To really look at her and see more than just my friend from church. My eyes could finally gaze freely at the woman I adored.

  We were quiet a moment, studying one another. My eyes moved to her lips and I stepped close to her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her softly. I wanted to wrap my hands around her waist and pull her close to me; inhale the scent of her and close my eyes deeply to savor her presence.

  But I couldn’t do those things. I swallowed over that lump in my dry throat and I asked her, “Are you okay?”

  The woman I loved shrugged her shoulders and walked away, heading for the sink. “I’m fine, Sid.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and asked “Are you sure? You know you can talk to me, Dayna.”

  Dayna shook her head as she washed her hands, “We can’t talk, remember?”

  I looked away before meeting her eyes in the mirror. I was so close to her and yet I was still aching to hold her. I knew we were running out of time and I wanted to make sure we were okay. I stepped closer to her, holding her gaze in the mirror and said, “Look, I deserve that. I know I do. But please, don’t shut me out.”

  Dayna turned off the water and turned around to face me. Her eyes were swimming in tears. “I can’t shut you out. I don’t know how to shut you out. That’s the problem. And just what are you apologizing for? For being honest?”

  My eyes mirrored hers. I stepped closer to her, almost close enough to touch her. “I don’t know. I’m sorry for hurting you. I don’t know how we fix this, but I know I need to be near you.”

  She blinked and a tear slipped from her right eye.

  Dayna tried to speak and stumbled with her words. Just as she seemed to get a grip on what she wanted to say, we were interrupted by a few more ladies of the church. She looked away and headed for the paper towels. I stood with her, trying my best to look normal.

  What was normal for me anyway? She was my normal. With her I felt whole and even though I felt like an idiot standing in between her and the paper towel, it didn’t matter because I was close to her.

  I heard our guests peeing and flushing and all the while, Dayna dried her hands. We shared long, lonesome looks as her eyes bounced between me and our guests. I studied only her, hoping that no one else noticed the depth of my concern. I was frozen. My eyes wouldn’t move until we were done talking. Eventually, the last guest left the restroom and Dayna smiled sadly at me.

  “I love you, Sidney.”

  “I love you, too,” I replied.

  “But I can’t keep doing this.”

  I frowned then. There could be numerous meanings behind such a phrase and I hoped that she didn’t mean what I thought she meant.

  The restroom door swung open once more and heralded the entrance of two teenagers. They talked and giggled all the way to their stalls, seemingly unaware of the tension between my lover and myself.

  I nodded, trying to view the glass as half full. “Okay. What…what do you mean?”

  She chewed at her lip and lowered her eyes before she whispered, “I’m saying, I think I….I need a break.”

  My eyes opened wide. “A break?”

  She nodded.

  My eyes watered then. I didn’t want them to, but they did anyway. “From me?” I asked.

  “From us,” she whispered.

  My heart was breaking, the ache in my chest made it hard to breathe. “How can you say that?” I asked her.

  Dayna swallowed and her face began to crumple. I wanted to hold her and make everything okay, but I couldn’t do that in the bathroom of Mt. Zion Missionary Baptist Church. I hated feeling so helpless and as we stood there I contemplated throwing caution to the wind just to ease that ache in my chest and take away the pain in her eyes.

  Dayna made it easy on both of us. She shrugged again. “I have to go, Sid.”

  That was it. My time was over. She didn’t even look back as she headed back out to the fellowship hall.

  Chapter Sixteen: Dayna

  “How did we get here?” I asked myself aloud.

  I was alone, sitting behind the wheel of my SUV, still in the church parking lot. I took a deep breath and a long exhale and tried to still the shaking in my hands.

  I knew I was wrong. I owed her an explanation. I owed her the courtesy of a real conversation and not some rushed, sophomoric bathroom drama. But unease had me action-paralyzed.

  I’d done the best I could. The next step for me would have been dissolving into a puddle of tears in her arms and I couldn’t risk that. I grew up in the church and I know that sometimes the church can be a bucket full of nosey eyeballs. I didn’t want anyone being able to understand the depth of our relationship. I had to extract myself from the situation and that’s why my feet had carried me quickly out to my vehicle.

  I blinked hard, forcing my tears away.

  I needed someone to talk to.

  But she was the one I always talked to.

  My emotions were all bottled up and there was no easy-button release valve for me. I sighed to myself and put the key in the ignition.

  The only way to relieve the pressure on my soul was to eliminate a burden and hope the reduction in pressure would ease the strain on my mental system.

  The dilemma I now faced was not deciding which burden to release. The problem I faced was figuring out just how to let her go.

  Chapter Seventeen: Sidney

  Dayna had slipped out of church before I could catch her and I ended up going out to an early dinner with my family and my parents. I tried so hard to focus, but I just couldn’t. All I could think of was Dayna’s watery eyes and her esoteric words. I didn’t know what to make of her tight-lipped response.

  She needed a break? Was “breaking” temporary or permanent? Was permanent even an option for me?

  Somehow I made it through my father’s bad jokes and Aiden’s mild temper tantrum. When our meal was over, I bid farewell to my parents and we made it back home. I was consumed with thoughts of her.

  As I straightened up the house and rushed my family through our nightly routine, I kept trying to bank on that glass half full mentality. But something inside tugged on the worry demon on my left shoulder and I knew that my glass would probably end up half-empty.

  When Aaron and the kids parked themselves in front of the downstairs television, I took that as my cue and hurried upstairs to my bedroom. It was after six in the evening when I pressed the last digit on my cordless phone and waited for her to pick up on the other end. After what seemed like an eternity, her voice finally made contact with my ear. She was out of breath when she answered.

  “Hello,” said Dayna.

  It’s funny how such a small word can have such a large impact. “Hello” stopped me in my tracks. I’d been pacing nervously around the room, wearing grooves into the mushroom colored carpet. But her voice had frozen my movements.

  I swallowed thickly. A lump had suddenly lodged itself in my dry throat. “Dayna? Hi.”

  “Hey,” she replied.

  Her voice sounded strange. Distant.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  Dayna paused and exha
led.

  “Are you okay?” I repeated.

  She sniffed and said, “Yeah. I’m okay. I am. I’m sorry about this morning.”

  “What’s going on? Is this about yesterday? What I said?”

  “Maybe it’s what you didn’t say.”

  “Dayna, I’m sorry. Just tell me what you want me to do. Just tell me.”

  “Sidney, I shouldn’t have to. You should be free to do what you want to do.”

  “And what I want to do is be with you.”

  She took another deep breath and as she did, I said “Dayna, I’m sorry. We’ll figure it out. Just don’t shut down on me. I m---.”

  The “m” is as far as I got.

  Aaron had come into the room, laughing loudly. I could see the blue beep of the Bluetooth headset in his ear. He was on the phone.

  “Sidney, have you seen the nail clipper?” he asked, his smile wide, jovialness in his soft hazel eyes.

  I couldn’t match his cheerful mood. I was pissed. He’d stepped over the threshold of our bedroom and into the second half of my shady double life. Aaron didn’t belong in this dimension and I was pissed that he’d overstepped the invisible bounds.

  “What….is…..it?!” I growled, my eyebrows pointing at each other in an angry v-shape, my words slipping out through gritted teeth.

  My husband looked surprised, his smile faded. “Nail clipper?”

  “What nail clipper? I’m on the phone. Don’t you see me on the phone?”

  “Sid, I just asked - - -,” he began.

  As he spoke, I gave him the nastiest, pissiest look I could muster. All of the frustration and irritation I felt poured out of me and into the venomous stare I aimed at my husband.

  He stopped talking, sucked his teeth, huffed, and rolled his eyes before heading back out of the room.

  I knew I was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t have snapped at him. But I’d been waiting to talk to Dayna all day and I had to get back to her.