Pining & Loving

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  “Is it that you’re a knobhead for nicknaming me ‘soft barista’?”

  “Sure, that, too, but what I was calling about was that I’m back from the interview.”

  “Cool! And…?”

  Aya fist-pumped the air. “And the bloke pretty much promised me the job!”

  “Ha! I knew it. This job was meant for you,” Gwen said adamantly.

  “Look at you with all the answers,” Aya bantered, too happy to stay serious.

  “Well, I am older than you. Of course I have the answers.”

  Aya stopped moving. “I never thought of that. How much older are you?”

  “Guess.”

  Aya groaned. “Don’t make me do this, duck. You know I say the wrong things even in harmless topics. This one’s dangerous.”

  “It’s fine. Go ahead. I like getting older; I won’t be offended if you get it wrong.”

  “Okay, thirty-nine.”

  Gwen coughed. “Sorry, I was drinking water, and it went down the wrong way. I’m a little surprised you think I’m more than ten years older than you,” she said, sounding amused.

  Aya squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself. “Thirty-seven?”

  “Wrong. Try again.”

  “Just bloody tell me, Gwen!”

  “Okay, okay, calm down. I’m thirty-three, love.”

  “Really? Wow. I thought it was much more.”

  “Uh. Okay?” Gwen said, now half amused and half offended if Aya was reading that tone of voice right.

  “I meant because you’re so mature and in sync with your thoughts and feelings.” She mentally added that she preferred the company of older women so had assumed Gwen was older.

  That’s borderline flirty, though, isn't it? I can’t say that.

  Maybe she should tell Gwen about Bill’s theory that often people who spend their teens being pro athletes and not regular teens, never grew up. It might explain why she sometimes seemed younger and less experienced than she was.

  The moment to say something passed, though, as Gwen was already replying. “No need to defend yourself. As I said, I have no problem with getting older. We should all be so lucky. There were times in my life when I doubted I’d get even this far.”

  Aya’s heart sank as she realised what that meant. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “No, no, don’t be. Ah, bollocks, I’m ruining the mood here. This is a great day and should be celebrated!”

  “Agreed,” Aya said on an exhale. “So, how do we celebrate?”

  “Any way you’d like! However we do it, though, it’ll have to be tonight. I have some errands to run right now.”

  “Yeah? Anything you need help with? I’ll tag along for whatever.”

  There was a pregnant pause.

  “Aya, you’re not my carer,” Gwen said softly. “Maybe take the afternoon off from being with me?”

  Aya tapped her forehead against the wall. “Of course, yeah, we should have some time apart. We’re not teenagers having to hang out every day of the week.” She had tried to sound nonchalant but wasn’t sure it worked. Why was she so clingy?

  “As I said, I just have something I need to do.”

  She bumped her forehead again. “Sure! I don’t know what I was thinking offering to tag along. Saying the wrong thing again, huh?”

  “No, you didn’t. I want to spend time with you, too. On that note, fancy coming over at about six tonight instead?”

  Aya froze mid-forehead-thumping. “Yeah! I can pick up some food for all of us from that Mexican place in Hanley that Charlotte loves?”

  “Perfect. Now, treat yourself this afternoon! No more worrying, especially not about saying the wrong thing. You must’ve really wowed that bloke at the interview and said all the right things.”

  “Um, I guess. Thanks,” Aya replied, unsure of how to proceed in the face of all this unconditional support.

  Luckily, Gwen filled in the silence. “I’m proud of you, love. See you tonight!”

  “Thanks,” Aya said again, just as feebly as the first time. “I’m proud of you, too. See you then.”

  She hung up and stared at the screen. Why had she said that she was proud of Gwen? Sure, she was, but that wasn’t a normal thing to say in that conversation, was it? Clearly Gwen was wrong about her saying the right thing.

  She fidgeted for a second, unsure of what to do. She completely understood Gwen’s point and knew they’d see each other tonight. Still, she wanted to see Gwen right away. She wanted to celebrate with her in this very moment.

  She smacked herself on the arm. Co-dependency wasn’t an Aya Lawson trait. Neither was attaching her happiness to someone else. The last remnant of that had been killed when she walked out on Susannah.

  You’re an independent woman. And you like being alone, remember? Working out, watching movies, going for long drives.

  Long drives! Yes, perfect. But where to? She thought about her last long drive and immediately knew where to go and what to do. Or rather, what to buy. It was extravagant, yes, but what a way to celebrate! She picked up her jacket and car keys before heading out to Janet.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Muscles & Mitts

  A cold pit of unease sat in Gwen’s stomach as she gathered up the energy to leave her flat. Aya had sounded so upset over that they had to wait to celebrate. She reminded herself that she had to say no to do this for Aya. Besides, they’d see each other tonight.

  That cold feeling slowly changed into a cold sweat. What if she had a depression meltdown, complete with exhaustion and dissociation, out there? What if she had a panic attack? What if she got too ill to get herself back home?

  Bugger it. She had to talk to Bill.

  After a long, taxing walk, she passed through the ground-floor nail salon and then climbed up the shabby stairs to Muscles & Mitts. She smoothed her hair, knowing she looked terrible and hating herself as much for that as for everything else. Never mind, she reminded herself; this wasn’t about her.

  She walked into the gym, and a cacophony of noise hit her. People, mainly huge men, were skipping rope and punching either bags or each other. There was a lot of laughter and shouting, too. A shiver of not belonging ran down her back, but she shook it off. It wasn’t like her to shy away from something new. Some of the boxers stopped what they were doing to watch her cross the crowded space. One of them was a tall girl with dreadlocks. Next to her was a massive old bloke bellowing at her in an American accent. “Jenny! Pay attention for Pete’s sake! D’you think I’m coaching you for fun?”

  “No, Bill,” she droned with an eye roll.

  “Ah, yer killing me. We’re here to do a job!”

  “My fault. I distracted her,” Gwen cut in.

  Bill turned to her with a look of curiosity, not the unfriendliness that Gwen had dreaded. “Hey there. Who are you? You’re way too skinny to be a boxer. Even a flyweight would eat you for breakfast.”

  “I’m well aware,” Gwen said, good-naturedly. “I’m not a boxer, but I’m here on behalf of one. I’m Gwen, Aya’s friend.”

  “Oh, right.” He faced Jenny again. “Take a break and get something to drink, kid. Be back here in twenty minutes.”

  She ambled off, and Bill refocused on Gwen. “So, you’re the Welsh chick that has Aya all dreamy, huh? I can see how you’d be her type. You’re certainly a hell of a lot better than that bitch she dated before.” He jolted as if the words coming out of his mouth had shocked him. “Shit! Man, I’m sorry. I never call women that. In fact, I tell my boxers off for doing it. It’s just that she—”

  “Deserves that particular slur? Nah, I don’t agree. I think the comparison is unfair to female dogs.”

  He laughed. “Aya said you were funny. That’s my favourite trait in a woman.”

  “I’m glad you approve of me as her new friend.” Gwen put emphasis on the last word. It had sounded as though Bill thought Aya and she were dating.

  “It’s not up to me to approve. She’s a full-grown woman and makes her own decisio
ns and choices.”

  “Yes, speaking of Aya’s life decisions. I’m here to sound you out on something.”

  He squinted at her so much his face looked like a raisin. “Okay. What?”

  “I know she’s been sparring with Jenny.”

  “Mm. Jenny’s a rising star, and Aya can teach her a lot. What about it?”

  “That’s just it. Aya is really enjoying helping her. It’s raising her confidence and giving her purpose. As you know, it looks like she will be getting that admin job. However, that’s in the morning. The rest of the day she’s free and—”

  “I’mma stop you there. Aya told me that you like to talk, and since I can be a bit of a blabbermouth, too, I think we better get to the crux of the issue before we yap the day away.”

  “Okay,” Gwen said, trying not to bristle. “Go ahead.”

  Bill scratched his craggy chin. “You’re suggesting Aya needs more work and asking me if she can coach Jenny, right?”

  “Not exactly coaching her. I know that’s your job,” Gwen hurried to say.

  “Yeah, but I’m old and slow. Aya isn’t ready to coach someone trying to go pro, but she could be an assistant coach. Maybe I could scramble up enough money to pay her to train with Jenny for a few hours every day.”

  “Really?”

  He held up a paw of a hand. “Like I said, if I can find the money. I’ll look into it and let you both know ASAP. How’s that?”

  “Brilliant,” Gwen breathed. “I can wait. I mean, even if it doesn’t pan out, I’m just so grateful that you tried. Aya loves boxing, and I know she misses doing it professionally. This could change her life.”

  “True. Anyway, I’d love to chat more, kid, but you need to skedaddle so I can find my fighter before she drinks a tonne of whey protein and can’t box.”

  “Of course. Thank you for your time. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Likewise, Welsh chick. Take care.”

  Gwen left the gym, with its smell of leather, sweat, and menthol, behind her in a buzz of childish excitement. She might’ve just helped Aya with something that would mean the world to her.

  * * *

  Gwen checked her watch. Six thirty, and they had almost gobbled all of the Mexican food already. Well, she and Aya had. Charlotte ate like a bird and entertained them with stories of what had happened at the pub today.

  Aya was belly-laughing at the crazy tales of a day shift in a Stoke pub. She seemed quicker to laughter than normal, like a weight had been lifted off that eye-catching chest. It was incredible what a job could do. Equally incredible was how radiant Aya was when she was happy. Her dimple was on constant display, and her body language was relaxed and open in a way that stole Gwen’s attention.

  As soon as they’d finished dinner, Aya stood and brushed taco crumbs off her jeans. “I’m going to get something that I bought today.”

  Charlotte was packing away food containers. “Another indulging boost gift,” she said from the corner of her mouth.

  “You’re just jealous,” Gwen whispered back.

  “Damn right. Although I did get a text from the egocentric, rugby-obsessed fireman. He asked for another date. He promised that he would treat me to a fancy dinner and then to a movie, so I’ll be getting a little spoiled myself.”

  Gwen squinted at her. “The Charlotte I know doesn’t give her precious time to some narcissistic bloke just because he buys her dinner. What else?”

  Charlotte smiled. “He apologised, saying that he’d kept chatting about himself and rugby because I made him nervous. That I was the sexiest and most resilient woman he’d ever met.”

  “Resilient?”

  She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes, because of how I handle my family and our intolerant society in general.”

  “Nice! And?”

  “And, he said that if I ever wanted someone to have a chat with my parents about accepting me as trans and as a woman, he’d love to help.”

  Gwen snapped her fingers. “Bingo. That would get him another date. Now I know why you mentioned Aya having a saviour complex,” she whispered. “It sounds like you want a bloke who has one.”

  “I want a man who will stand by my side and speak up for me. Is that so wrong?” Charlotte said stridently.

  “Absolutely not, love. You deserve that and so much more.” Gwen gave her a one-armed hug. “If this guy wants to fight in your corner, he sounds okay to me.”

  “Agreed,” Aya said, walking back into the room with a smallish box in her hands.

  Gwen’s gaze was drawn to the package. It had been so long since she’d experienced curiosity like this, almost without any dampening depression fog.

  Aya noticed and laughed. “Here. It’s related to our first memory together.”

  Gwen opened the luxurious box without reading the text on it; she was too curious about this memory connection Aya had mentioned.

  The box revealed a glass bottle full of whiskey-brown liquid. It wasn’t whiskey, though.

  Not in that small bottle.

  Not with that golden deer head topper.

  Gwen didn’t need to read the label. “This is The Tragedy of Lord George.”

  “Yep, that cologne from our Chester trip. Before it all went pear-shaped when we found Susannah.” Aya smiled a little. “Back when it was just you and me falling about in perfume shops.”

  “But this was so expensive!”

  “It cost more than anyone should spend on stuff to smell good, yes. It’s not just a perfume, though. It’s a memento.”

  “Nonetheless, Aya. I’m insanely grateful, but can you afford this?”

  “Sure. I still have some savings, and I’m getting a new job, remember?” They kept looking at each other until Aya grumbled, “Okay, I see you’re not convinced. But I’m not taking it back! You deserve a treat and… you only live once.”

  Gwen surveyed the heavy bottle, contemplating how to ease her guilt over the cost. She looked back up at Aya. “Tell you what. Why don’t we share it? I’d feel better about that.”

  Aya scratched the back of her head. “Um. Sure. I suppose I quite liked it. I’ll definitely like smelling like you.”

  “Yes! I’d like to smell like you, too.”

  Abruptly, Charlotte laughed. They both turned to her, but she only shook her head before wandering out, muttering, “They have no idea, do they, Meatloaf?” towards the cage. Gwen couldn’t make out the rest of the sentence, but thought she heard the words “in laugh.” Or was it “in love?”

  She ignored it, instead taking off the bottle’s deer head topper. “Right. Come here.”

  Aya dutifully stepped closer. Gwen sprayed her left pulse point, then used her free hand to move Aya’s head so she could spray the right pulse point without splashing that shapely jaw.

  Aya sniffed the air. “That’s nice.”

  Gwen breathed in, too, filling her nostrils with what her non-expert nose thought smelled like wood, sweet brandy, and her grandad’s old shaving cream. Actually, it was the sort of cologne her granddad would’ve liked if he could afford it.

  “Yes, it is,” Gwen agreed. “Not as nice as you, though.”

  Close as she was, Aya’s embarrassed expression was unmistakeable. “Not quite as nice as that day was,” she mumbled.

  “No, but a good reminder,” Gwen answered, tentatively taking her hand. “And something to spur us on to have more adventures when I’m better.”

  Aya interlaced their fingers. “Absolutely. We should start with Chester. We’ll go back and replace the bad memories of what happened with Susannah with good ones.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Gwen watched their hands. Thank goodness Aya didn’t mind how touchy-feely she was; in fact, she’d quickly adjusted to it. Now, Aya squeezed her hand and Gwen found yet another reason to keep fighting that dark ocean looming behind her.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Rock This

  At that moment, in Gwen’s cosy flat, with the cologne scenting the
air between them, Aya squeezed Gwen’s fingers and marvelled at their connected hands. Her breath had hitched when she dared to interlace their fingers, terrified that Gwen would think it was too intimate. Her fear had clearly been unfounded, as Gwen now squeezed back.

  Out of the blue, another sensation pushed out the marvelling: a buzzing in her bum.

  What the hell is that?!

  She groaned. Obviously, it was her phone ringing on silent in her back pocket. She let go of Gwen and got the phone out. The call was coming from the self-defence instructor at the gym.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Aya. Sorry to bother you, duck, but I can’t get hold of Bill. My class starts soon, but my babysitter hasn’t shown up and I can’t find anyone to look after my daughter tonight.”

  “Oh?”

  Please tell me she isn’t asking me to babysit? I’d probably light the kid’s hair on fire.

  “Yes. Anyway, I don’t want to cancel the class on such short notice, so I wondered if you knew someone who could fill in for me?”

  Seconds passed as Aya considered the confidence it would take her to hold a class. All the things she might say and do to make a fool of herself. How many of the class participants she could offend or confuse.

  She noticed Gwen stealthily watching her and knew what she would say: “You know the moves and how to teach people. You can do this.”

  More than that, Aya knew that was true. In fact, she couldn’t just do this, she could rock this!

  “Yeah, I can recommend someone. Me.”

  “What? I mean that would be great, but would you be comfortable with that?”

  Aya popped her neck and straightened. “Absolutely. I’ll get going right away.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Open for Her

  Gwen had some energy and strength the next morning. Breakfast finished, she stared at her phone. Should she call Aya and suggest what she wanted to suggest? The classic questions popped into her mind. What if she ruined her recovery? What if the energy drained and she had a breakdown while out? She ran a hand through her unwashed hair. She wasn’t even in any state to show herself in public. Besides, what if Aya was busy?