*
Sigrid seemed suspicious when Merle invited her and Clea out to dinner. “I just know you like to come over here and have us cook for you. Or we go to your house. This is out of the ordinary.”
“Exactly. This time, I want to take you out.”
“Why not eat at your house? Is something wrong? Are you keeping us away from Hayley?”
“Nothing’s wrong!” Merle was getting irritable because Sigrid was like a goddamn psychic.
“I just want us to go out. How’s Little Nepal, Friday at seven?” She referred to a popular Bernal neighborhood restaurant.
“That’s fine. Don’t be upset, Mer. We’ll see you in a couple days.”
Merle walked Arthur as usual every day after work and on Saturday, but she didn’t invite Hayley. Hayley seemed distant and preoccupied anyhow. That was all to the good. They’d just gotten too close and then they had sex and now they were both getting perspective, disengaging. They could reengage at a later time, after a suitable interval.
It was time to come clean with Sigrid and Clea, if for no other reason than to just get it out in the open and out of her mind, where it had been festering for weeks. Merle was sick and tired of her own obsessive thinking. Clea and Sigrid would understand. It was never good to keep things to herself. Her problems roiled around in her mind and made her nuts.
After she’d slept with Hayley and their argument-slash-talk, she figured she could start moving forward. Instead, her thoughts were so tangled and fraught with fear and regret, she felt like she’d been staggering around in the mental equivalent of the Tenderloin on a Saturday night. She was lost and drunk, and menacing people stood on every corner with no police officer or shelter in sight. My mind’s like a bad neighborhood, she thought. You don’t want to be there alone.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She should be able to solve her problems by using the methods she’d learned in AA. Mainly she needed to talk to someone. Instead she was keeping everything to herself. Why was she so reluctant to talk to Sigrid?
She figured Sigrid would again bring up the fact that her long sobriety didn’t prevent her from having bad thoughts or bad experiences. It was true, but she disliked being reminded of it. It was all probably just because of Kay and the weird and inexplicable circumstances of their breakup and the breakup itself. Seriously, ten years and then kaput? Who wouldn’t be slightly disoriented, even her? And then the thing or whatever it was with Hayley. No wonder she was so messed up. She needed to give herself a break.
She recalled her first sponsor telling her that an alcoholic is like a child; her reactions are outsized. “A flat tire makes us want to commit suicide,” Evelyn had said. Remembering Evelyn’s advice comforted her a little, but only a little. Her reactions to her breakup with Kay seemed pretty right on the money. She just wanted to get past them.
At Little Nepal, she and her two friends kissed each other hello and settled in their chairs and looked over their menus.
As they waited for the waiter, Merle asked them about themselves and their lives. Clea was an accountant and Sigrid an office manager for an investment firm. They chattered about various things, leaving Merle’s mind space to formulate what she would say as she listened to them.
Once they got their food, Sigrid asked, “So, Merle. You’ve been quiet. What’s new? What’s up with Hayley?” She bit into her eggplant curry and grinned, her eyebrows dancing.
“I slept with her a couple weeks ago.”
“You what?” Sigrid rarely lost her cool, but she stopped chewing and stared at Merle, speechless. It was very unusual for Sigrid to be at a loss for words.
All Clea said was “Hmph” and kept right on eating.
Sigrid put her fork down and fixed Merle with an intense stare. “Okay. Talk.”
So Merle told them all about Sherrie and the stalking and the aftermath. “It just kind of happened,” she said, somewhat lamely.
“Right. It was waiting to happen. It didn’t ‘kind of happen.’”
Sigrid was not actually making light of this event. This was reassuring because it meant she was taking it seriously. But it was also scary, because if Sigrid was shocked and treating it seriously instead of teasing her, Merle had certainly made a bad move.
“So what are you going to do now?” Sigrid asked.
“Nothing. We talked about it and agreed that it was better to just be roommates.”
“Is that right? Is that what Hayley says or what you say?” Sigrid sounded acerbic.
“As a matter of fact, we agreed. She was pretty upset at first, but she calmed down.”
“I’ll be darned. That’s surprising.” And that irritated Merle because Sigrid said it in a deeply sarcastic tone.
“So what about you?” This was a question from Clea, who’d said nothing the whole time Merle was talking.
“I ought to be fine but I’m not. I feel guilty, even though it was something we obviously did together.”
“Obviously. And what was it like?” As usual, Sigrid was the one who wanted details.
“What do you think?” Merle said, throwing sarcasm right back at Sigrid.
Sigrid shrugged so Merle said, “Sure. It was unbelievable. Out of this world. Amazing.”
“I thought so. Merle, why are you resisting involvement so much? The woman’s in love with you.”
“She is not. She’s in lust, not love. Me too. Or I was. In lust, that is.”
“She is in love with you.” Sigrid was insistent. “I saw her look at you when we were hiking in Point Reyes. As for you, it’s hard for me to believe you’d just casually sleep with her and then callously dismiss her.”
“Hey, it wasn’t like that.” That remark hurt because it was too close to the truth, no matter how much logic Merle tried to dress it up in. If she’d been a more together person, she would have just stopped it right in its tracks when they kissed in the kitchen. She was clearly not a better person.
“She’s not in love with me. She hasn’t said anything like that.”
“If I were her,” Clea said, “I wouldn’t say nothing about love to the likes of you.”
That was uncharacteristically harsh of Clea and stung Merle. “What do you mean?”
“Merle, honey. Even if Hayley is in love with you, you’ve got ‘stay away from me’ vibes leaking out of you all over the place.”
“Need I remind you the Point Reyes trip occurred before you guys had sex?” Sigrid said. “It was obvious to me what was going on.”
“Uh, why didn’t you say something at the time?” Merle was suffering from a serious case of sour grapes if she was blaming her friends for her actions.
Sigrid favored her with a sardonic smirk. “As if that would have made any difference. You kept saying you weren’t going to date anyone.”
Clea said, “And I suspect you must have mentioned that to Hayley once or twice.”
“Um. I suppose so. I’m simply not ready to jump into anything. It was a total mistake to do what I did. I apologized to her, and she accepted. We’re back to normal.”
“Something tells me you’re protesting just a bit too strongly,” Sigrid said. “If you were that closed down, how did you end up in bed with her?”
Merle thought for a few moments. “I don’t know. She was upset because of the thing with Sherrie. I was trying to be supportive, and it just turned into something else.”
“Huh.” Sigrid sounded totally unconvinced.
“You know what happens to people when they get scared. Fear can activate all kinds of other feelings. It was just situational.”
Sigrid stared at her, seeming skeptical. Merle stopped talking because it all sounded like a huge rationalization.
“You know?” Clea said, and picked up another piece of bread. Sigrid and Merle waited for her to continue. “Breakups are like death. They have to be grieved.”
“Oh, come on. What the heck are you talking about?” Merle said, confused at the change of subject.
“No, it’s
true. You go through Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief just like when someone you love dies: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and ultimately acceptance. You’re in grief about your split with Kay.”
Sigrid turned to regard her lover with respect and wonderment. “You know, darling, that’s brilliant. It’s true. Breakups are like death. You’ve lost someone and it’s really hard.”
“So, Doctor, what stage am I in now?” Merle asked with just a slight edge, but she suspected Clea was right.
“Depends, could be more than one. But I’ll go for anger and depression.”
“I’m over Kay. I swear I am.”
Clea shrugged. “So you say. You may think you are, but you’re not. Not yet.”
Sigrid was looking at Clea with interest. “She’s not ready to move on. She doesn’t have acceptance.”
“Bingo,” Clea said. “Yet, maybe, unconsciously, you do want connection. You do want love. Ergo, you had sex with Hayley.”
They both looked back at Merle, smiling slightly. Merle set her jaw. She didn’t want any of it to be true, but she supposed it could be. She couldn’t say specifically if she was over Kay. She wanted to be, but she probably wasn’t. She wasn’t ready to let go of her emotional involvement with Kay even if she’d had to let go of Kay in the physical sense. And aside from all that, the idea of emotional involvement with Hayley scared the bejesus out of her. Hayley was the epitome of the unknown. She couldn’t be in love with Hayley.
“Well, okay, I’ll give you that. I’m not over Kay. But Hayley’s not ready either.”
“Maybe and maybe not. She’s got to tell you that. Not you telling her. It doesn’t work that way.” Clea threw her a tight smile and made Merle feel guiltier than ever. She had in fact tried to tell Hayley what she ought to feel and think, which was one of the worse sins of human interaction. She should have just stuck to talking about herself. But instead she’d engaged in a little projecting. Not the brightest thing to do.
“I think she knows what her own best interest is. She’s not stupid,” Merle said.
“Hey. Then it’s all good, right?” Sigrid beamed and Clea nodded.
“I just wanted to tell you about it, you know. Get out of my head about it,” Merle said.
“So true, love. It’s not good to carry that stuff around in your head.”
“Well, I feel better.” She did feel better, a little. She’d done the right thing, had been honest with her friends and with Hayley, who was okay or would be in the future, even if she was currently faking it a little. Their relationship would reset itself to where it should be: friendly roommates.
It was time for everyone to move forward.
*
Adam engineered it so the settlement conference occurred in their office. Hayley asked Angie if she’d like to sit in her office while they waited for the settlement conference meeting to be over. No one but the principals and their attorneys were attending.
Hayley was more than happy to entertain Angie. She wished all her client work were as pleasant. Hanging out and drinking coffee with the client’s sister whom she couldn’t yet formally date but could certainly talk to wasn’t an unpleasant or difficult task.
“So you’re from the Bay Area originally?” Angie asked her.
“Yes. I grew up in Concord. My dad’s gone but Mom still lives there. You?”
“Watsonville. Artichoke farm.” Angie wrinkled her nose and grimaced. She made “artichoke farm” sound like “nuclear waste site.”
“Not the life for you, eh?”
“Not me. I went to UC Davis and studied agriculture but ended up being a consultant for agribusiness. My oldest brother runs the farm, and you know what Tom does. You’re not opposed to agribusiness, are you?” Angie eyed her cautiously.
“Nope. Never thought about it.”
“Good. ’Cause sometimes it raises the ire of some of the more lefty types.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Hayley wondered if Angie meant she’d gotten some flack from other lesbians.
“What do you like outside of work?” Angie asked.
“Movies,” Hayley said promptly.
“What kind?”
“All kinds, but I’m fondest of the romantic screwball comedies from the forties and forward.”
Angie grinned. “It’d be fun to see a movie with you.”
“Sure.” Hayley grinned back. She really did like Angie. She was sweet and good-humored, kind of cute. She didn’t feel any jolt of electricity though. Her stomach didn’t drop when she saw Angie like it did when she ran into Merle. Although recently, that pleasurable feeling had changed into something more like mild nausea combined with aching regret.
Lois knocked and opened the door. “They’re done.”
Angie and Hayley looked at each other hopefully.
Hayley held the door for Angie and they went to the lobby. The Kallman people were shaking hands with Tom and Adam, and there were big smiles all around.
Adam said, “Thank you for coming. And we all deserve credit for reaching a satisfactory conclusion. I’ll have the filing ready for signature next week,” he said to Hayley and Angie.
“All right, you two. Come on in and we’ll tell you all about it.” Hayley noted that Adam had worn his lucky red satin tie. He was superstitious about some things.
Angie gave her brother a hug, and they all sat at the conference table as Adam described the settlement conference.
“Just like I expected, they wanted to settle because they know we’ve got a solid case. Age discrimination. It would be a long and ugly trial and bad publicity for Kallman. I told them the initial offer was way too small and came back with four hundred fifty thousand and Tom’s job restored.”
He leaned back and put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “There’s always that moment when you state your figure and there’s a big pause as you wait for what they’ll say.”
Adam opened his eyes. “This time I didn’t detect any hesitation. They came back with four hundred and legal fees and Tom back at work. We said ‘yup,’ and that was that.”
Angie hugged Adam and then Hayley. “Thank you, thank you, so much. Both of you. I wasn’t sure at all this would work, but this is beyond my highest expectation.”
“You’re welcome, Angela, and now it’s time to celebrate. Lois has made reservations at Boulevard and you’ll be our guests. Hayley—you’ll come?”
Hayley caught Angie’s eye and said, “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Back in her office, Hayley changed into a green sheer blouse and dress shoes in preparation for their meal at the fancy restaurant. She was buttoning up the blouse when she heard a knock.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Angie.”
“Just a second.”
Hayley’s face got warm and she hastily arranged her clothes. She tucked in her blouse, made sure her trousers were zipped, and smoothed her hair. Then she inhaled and said, “Come in.”
Angie entered and closed the door behind her and leaned against it, beaming rakishly. “I know I said thanks to you and to Adam, but I wanted to speak to you privately before we go out tonight.”
Hayley nodded silently, not knowing what to expect.
Angie crossed the room and gave her a light but warm kiss on the lips. “That’s my private thanks to you. See you in a little while.”
Hayley touched her lips and smiled. “You bet. Can’t wait.”
The kiss gave her a little thrill, which reassured her. It looked like things were going to turn out the way she wanted. She’d wanted a date with Angie and was going to have one. Certainly the spark would come.
Chapter Fourteen
Occasionally, Merle attended a Sunday-afternoon meeting on the subject of AA’s third step, which said, “Became willing to turn our wills and lives over to the care of God as we understand him.” As an agnostic, Merle had a pretty nonspecific view of God. She just knew she wasn’t God, and that had worked well enough to keep her sober for seventeen y
ears. Willingness, however, was to Merle one of the most mysterious concepts of AA. She readily embraced acceptance, gratitude, honesty, and faith. Faith in AA, at least, if not in God. She struggled with willingness, as did almost everyone she knew. She figured it was her innate stubbornness coupled with alcoholic bravado. Even though she was years away from her last drink and had no trouble accepting the fact that she couldn’t drink, she still resisted letting go of control in the rest of her life.
The sobriety tests for people in AA were not, of course, highway-patrol holiday checkpoints but what normal people would consider unwelcome but hardly unusual life events, such as a divorce or death in the family or loss of employment. Merle thought she’d met the test of her sobriety when Kay left her and she didn’t drink. Apparently that hadn’t been the real test; it was just the warm-up. She was smack up against her lingering unwillingness to let her relationship with Kay go.
The dinner conversation with Sigrid and Clea hung in her memory, causing her to ask herself, What is really going on with me?
When faced with a dilemma for which she had no solution, which thank goodness didn’t happen often, Merle followed the standard AA prescription. She went to meetings, and she talked (as in to Sigrid and Clea). She stated out loud her willingness to give up trying to control the outcome of whatever her dilemma was and just accept.
This Sunday-night third-step meeting would yield a bumper crop of folks talking about dilemmas. Some would be newly sober, and many, like her, would have years of not drinking behind them. She could learn from both types of people.
She sat at the long table, blinking under the garish light. How many times in how many church basements had she sat, hoping that somewhere, somehow, and from someone, she’d hear something helpful? She’d lost count, but hopefully she’d get what she needed. That’s what kept her going to meetings.
This was a mixed, i.e., LGBTQ and straight meeting. Merle had long ago ceased worrying about anything like different sexual orientations. None of that mattered in AA.
Warm November Page 20