“Nah. Glen Park.”
“Oh, nice. Do you own or rent?”
Terry emitted an unpleasant grunt. “Huh. Are you kidding? I’m a renter. I’ve had the same flat for twenty years. I won’t move. I can’t move. Rent control. They’ll have to carry me out. If the landlord sells, I’m screwed.”
“Uh-huh.” Most of what Hayley knew of rent control was from the other side. She’d heard landlords in the Sunset district complain bitterly about it.
“I’m a renter now too. I used to own a house with my ex-husband.”
“Husband, eh?” Terry regarded her with distinct suspicion. In her mouth, “husband” sounded a little like “cockroach.” Hayley supposed that was to be expected. Some of the stuff she’d read indicated that “real” lesbians had deep reservations about women like her. She wondered how to convince someone she could be trusted. A track record with women might help, but getting one started was the problem.
“That’s all done with,” Hayley said with as much conviction as she could. “I’m not interested in men anymore, not in the least. Been there, done that. I’m looking to date women, seriously, not as a fling. That’s partly why I moved here.”
“Well, you came to the right place, honey.” The “right place” was clearly embodied in Terry.
“I sure hope so. So far, I love it. Merle’s a great person. She’s got an awesome house. I love living there.”
“Merle’s the best. She got a raw deal.”
“Oh? Why’s that?” Aha. At last she could really get the story on what happened.
“No one really knows. Kay was here, then she was gone, and Merle doesn’t talk about it though it’s obvious she’s devastated.”
“I don’t like to pry. I know they’d been together a long time.”
“Yup. Anyhow, this is a depressing subject, so let’s move on.”
She wasn’t going to hear the story.
“Sure. How about telling me more about Oakley? He’s a lucky dog, for sure.”
“He’s a gem, just he’s a bit wacko at times. But I can handle him. He’s my best friend.”
“No girlfriend?”
“Nah. Not for a couple years.”
Hayley could do without the “nahs,” but she wanted to know more. As Terry talked about Oakley and about dogs and their training, she grew more animated and more articulate. Hayley tried to get past her looks, which she couldn’t quite comprehend. Why would a woman make herself purposefully unattractive? She didn’t have anything against butch. On Merle, for instance, it looked really good. But Merle was well groomed and neat and had a nice head of artfully cut silvery gray hair.
Hair was important to her, Hayley decided. She couldn’t see dating bald or partially bald women. Probably no crew cuts either. Piercings? Meh. But any prospective dates had to wear clean clothes. It looked as though Terry’s jeans had been washed in salad oil, then dipped into a vat of dirt.
They walked up the summit of Bernal and stopped to admire the view, then walked back down, and there stood Merle and Arthur at the water fountain.
“Hey, you!” Hayley called out with relief. Merle turned at the sound of her voice, her face radiant. She looked a little windblown and ruddy. She and Arthur must have taken a brisk walk.
Merle turned back to the water fountain, where she stood, pressing the button to give Arthur fresh water, and bent and took a drink herself. When she looked up, she wiped her mouth and their eyes locked. Hayley tried to discern what she was seeing in Merle’s face, but she couldn’t exactly. It looked like longing, like the way Arthur gazed at them before he was allowed in the kitchen. Then she got self-conscious because she felt like she was staring. Terry’s loud voice broke the moment.
“Hey, Craig. Your new roomie’s a great gal.”
“Yep, I know. You two had a nice chat?”
“We took a hike. Whaddya talking about?”
“Are those two things mutually exclusive?”
“Don’t fret. Me and Oakley get enough exercise. Arthur’s getting a belly. I can see it from here.”
“That’s your imagination. He’s in perfect condition.”
Hayley listened to them banter. Terry was showing off a little by teasing Merle. She thought that Merle might be engaging Terry to divert her attention from Hayley. That was an interesting idea, but she thought it seemed far too juvenile. It was likely her imagination. She wondered about the look she and Merle had exchanged. She didn’t know what sort of signal she’d given but was afraid it might have appeared as though she was attracted to Merle. She really needed to watch herself. No more fantasies about Sierra hikes.
“Ready to go home?” she asked Merle.
“I am. I think Arthur needs a nap.”
“Maybe it’s you who needs a nap. Okay, I’m ready.”
She turned back to Terry. “So nice to meet you. Thanks for the walk.” This time she turned on her flirt grin full force.
“You bet. Here’s my card. Call me anytime.” And she winked, roguishly.
Hayley accepted it and tucked it into her jeans pocket. “Maybe I’ll do that.”
As they walked back home, Hayley debated with herself about saying anything to Merle and concluded she needed to talk. She needed Merle to help her understand and correct her misconceptions and generally keep her from making a fool of herself.
“So. I get how lesbians are super different from each other.”
“That’s putting it mildly. We all like women but that’s about it.”
“Miley’s a player, right?”
“Right.”
“I didn’t like her too much. I liked Terry though.”
Merle didn’t say anything but kept walking. The silence made Hayley nervous and she sought to fill it. “Do you think I should go out with her?”
“That’s entirely up to you.”
“Well…” Hayley was a bit miffed at Merle’s lack of engagement and failure to offer any additional information.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Merle turned to her, her expression unreadable. “Of course.”
“You won’t think I’m silly or homophobic or anything?”
“No, of course not.” Now she seemed a little impatient.
“Why does Terry look like that, dress like that?”
“What do you mean?” Oh, great. Merle was surely playing dumb. This was unhelpful.
“I mean the dirty clothes, tattoos, piercings, hair style, or whatever?”
“Haven’t you ever seen straight women who look like that?”
“No, honestly, I haven’t. Why do you ask?” Hayley was suddenly feeling very defensive.
“Because that look isn’t confined to lesbians, and lesbians look and dress in a lot of different ways. So does everyone else. I mean, you may have not run into many hipster-type people in the Sunset—”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying I’ve lived a sheltered life? I’ve lived in San Francisco for a really long time and—”
“Take it easy, Hayley. I’m not putting you down.” Merle spoke calmly. “But your question leads me to believe you just didn’t go to certain parts of the City. You can live in parts of SF where you wouldn’t run into too many different kinds of people—”
“I see panhandlers and crazy people all over the Financial District!” Hayley said, feeling put down anyhow.
“Right, but that’s not what we’re talking about. I’m talking about people you actually know. I’d imagine you don’t know many people like Terry. She’s an outlaw. She’s got a job where she doesn’t have to look a certain way. She can be herself, whatever and whoever that is.”
“Yeah, I see that.”
“She’s a wonderful person. She’s been enormously helpful to me with Arthur. She accomplished something remarkable by rehabbing Oakley. You may not be attracted to her. Nothing wrong with that.”
And there it was, the truth clearly stated by Merle. It was a little painful, but it was true.
“Am I a bad lesbian?” Hayley needed reassurance. M
erle’s expression was compassionate. She wasn’t trying to embarrass Hayley.
“No. Not at all. Lesbians look all sorts of ways. You’ll know what you want when you meet her.”
Merle waited a beat, then asked, “Are you going out with her? ’Cause I can pretty much guarantee she wants to go out with you.”
“I don’t know. I’m going to think about it.”
“Yeah. Okay. Good then.” They walked down the east path toward their home.
At the bottom of the hill they stopped and Merle said, “This tree has some squirrels, and Arthur likes to stop and see if they’re home.”
“Look at him,” Hayley said.
Sure enough, Arthur stood on the path, his tail wagging a mile a minute as he scrutinized the big cypress tree, but no squirrels showed up. They waited a few more minutes, then walked back toward their home on Stoneman Street.
Chapter Six
Merle bicycled to work the Monday following their first Bernal Heights dog walk and thought about the walk with Hayley. She’d been embarrassed when she grabbed Hayley to stop her from swinging on the rope swing. Invading her personal space like that probably wasn’t that big a deal, but Hayley must have thought she was trying to hit on her. Her expression when she jumped off the rope swing had been so odd: her eyes wide and alarmed and she’d blushed. It had been a dumb move. Merle needed to keep her hands to herself.
She’d been on the lookout for Miley and never once thought about Terry. It wasn’t a regular spot for Terry to walk Oakley so she’d been surprised to see her. Merle had great affection for Terry, as well as tremendous respect and admiration. She just didn’t want Hayley dating her. It infuriated her to think this and not be able to come up with a satisfactory reason for why. It was none of her business.
Her job, if she had one, was helping put women in Hayley’s path, and the consequences were irrelevant. She turned the situation over in her mind a few times and then sternly lectured herself to let it go. Next time, Hayley could take Arthur for a walk by herself and get as many phone numbers as she could manage. Merle chastised herself for her cranky attitude. This type of thinking was pointless. Besides, she needed to be focused for work.
She liked to arrive at her lab fairly early in the morning so she had a few hours of quiet before the rest of the group drifted in. Her principal investigator, the faculty member for whom she worked, was an easygoing fellow, and she had mostly free rein when it came to the day-to-day running of the laboratory. Since Collier Thompson was a very senior faculty member and a successful researcher, he could maintain a large research operation.
Ten years previously, they’d moved from their cramped rickety lab space on the UCSF Parnassus campus to the shiny new Quantitative Biology Center on the UCSF Mission Bay campus. It was a vast improvement in many ways, not the least of which was its closeness to Merle’s home. She’d never wanted to commute and now she never had to. She had expected to work a few more years; then she could retire and walk twice a day every day. She didn’t, however, have anyone to retire with. That little detail bothered her and reminded her of Kay’s departure.
She’d been managing Thompson’s lab for fifteen years, and he depended on her to keep everything non-science-related organized and running smoothly while he oversaw the research. She’d started as a technician and then became a staff research associate or SRA and finally had been promoted to specialist, but she did very little lab work anymore.
Managing the Thompson lab was a full-time position. It was, in fact, more than full-time, and she’d asked him for a year to hire another staff research associate to help her. The graduate students and post-doctoral scholars and visiting scientists and interns who floated through the lab for a year or two or even just a summer had to be wrangled almost 24 / 7. Collier couldn’t be bothered with the details. He directed the research and spent a great deal of time attending conferences and lecturing all over the world. He was said to be in line for a Nobel Prize.
Merle locked her bike and used her ID card to open the door to the building and took the stairs to the third floor. She sometimes missed the funky old lab in the Health Sciences building on the main campus at Parnassus, but not often. The QB3 building was somewhat sterile, but they had more room and everything worked properly and was designed according to modern health and safety codes.
She stopped in the kitchen to make coffee and then took a cup to her office to begin organizing herself for the day. She consciously swept thoughts of Hayley out of her mind so she could focus on work.
*
Hayley sat at her desk and looked at the time in the corner of her monitor. Close enough. She was going to take a lunch break. She typed “lesbian” and “relationship” into the Google search box, and a list popped up on the screen. She unwrapped her cheese and avocado sandwich and took a bite, then clicked on the first link, Match.com.
She thought about the dog walk the previous weekend with Merle and Arthur. It’d had been instructive, if nothing else. It was always good to know what you didn’t want. She grinned to herself. For sure, she was staying far away from Miley. But she couldn’t decide what to think about Terry. She was put off by her looks, although she didn’t want to be. Terry was perfectly pleasant and friendly but…It couldn’t hurt to see her. Maybe more time and a little more conversation would help.
In the meantime, there was the Net. Britt had sworn that was the best way to meet people. Hayley supposed it couldn’t hurt to try, though she was pretty sure she wanted to meet women face-to-face through introductions or at parties. So far, the results from that effort were definitely mixed.
She opened one site and found the section for women seeking women. The profiles were unbelievable. She supposed people must lie in them, though she didn’t know where lying would get you unless you planned to have a relationship purely online. Even photos couldn’t tell the whole story. Well, it was a place to start. She set up her profile, paid the fee, and left a few notes on some that looked promising. It was all a matter of statistics, and the more places Hayley looked, the more likely she’d find the right person or, as Britt had said to her once, “You could just settle for Ms. Right Now.” That wasn’t what she had in mind, but she had to keep her options open.
She took out Terry’s business card, which carried a nice abstract-like logo of a dog and contained all manner of ways to get in touch with her. She turned it over, then framed it with her fingers and tapped it. She was about to call and ask someone out on a date, someone she found pleasant and interesting, but she was pretty sure there ought to be a little more there, there.
Among the resources Hayley had read, she recalled an admonition that, contrary to some straight people’s stereotypes, lesbian relationships weren’t like being with your best friend. The attraction was far more intense than uninformed people might imagine. Hayley hoped she’d know it when she saw it. Maybe it would appear over time. She grew irritable at her mental fidgeting and procrastination, so she called and left Terry a message.
A few hours later, Terry called back and they made plans to go out to dinner that Friday evening.
When Hayley keyed off her phone, she stared at it for a long time. She was excited. This was her first date, after all. She ought to be really excited, but she wasn’t. It wasn’t quite like contemplating a household chore she had to do or having to finish writing a long brief at work. It gave her more pleasure than that but wasn’t quite what she’d thought it would be.
She was looking for the feeling: the one she’d read about in romance novels and one she saw enacted by The L Word girls. She wanted the dizzy, logic-defying surge of anticipation and arousal, and it wasn’t happening. She suspected she might be experiencing the same phenomenon that had occurred with Howard. She’d ended up marrying him because she’d convinced herself she was attracted to him, when all she was attracted to was his wanting her. That was a powerful incentive for an inexperienced twenty-four-year-old girl. She was a lot older now and ought to know the difference. She suspect
ed it might be because she was developing an attraction to Merle, but she was determined to keep that tamped down.
Never mind. This was all about experience. She needed practice dating anyhow, and she needed practice with women. So she was going to go out and do just that. Maybe Merle would let her take Arthur out on her own this weekend. She hoped so. She wanted Merle to go with them because she enjoyed her company, but it was probably better if she went by herself. It was up to her to fail or succeed, and Merle’s presence, while welcome, wouldn’t help her get her sea legs.
She could depend on Merle for support and advice, but there was a limit. She ought to get back to work, but she kept thinking about Merle. Was Merle going to be going out on dates too? It seemed natural. Maybe they could go together. Double dates. That would be fun.
She clicked open the document she’d been working on, the Banner age-discrimination case, and forced herself to get to work. Thank goodness for deadlines.
*
“I’m really glad you called me,” Terry said, her voice and her expression heartfelt and winning. They were seated across from each other at a picnic bench at Foreign Cinema, the Mission District’s palace of nouveau cuisine and old black-and-white European films.
Hayley arranged her face in a pleasant if noncommittal smile. She wasn’t going to deploy her full 100-watt, all-teeth grin. She didn’t want to send the wrong signal to Terry. They were having a friendly dinner, though Terry insisted she would pay. This certainly made it feel like a date. Also, Terry had cleaned up very well. She wore tailored pants and a nice white shirt. Her clothes were fitted properly and showed her muscular physique. The hair, piercings, and tattoo were still there, however. As was the absence of any spark in Hayley’s heart or sexual heat in her body.
“I wanted to get to know you better and hear more about the work you do and Oakley’s story.”
That at least was true. So Terry talked and they sipped their wine and then ate their very good dinner. It was time for the movie to start. Jules et Jim was the feature. Hayley loved movies, but this wasn’t one of her favorites, which was good. It would be rude if she ignored Terry to watch the movie.
Warm November Page 9