Chapter Eight. Beth showered, letting the hot water soak into her calf for quite a while
Beth showered, letting the hot water soak into her calf for quite a while. Around four o’clock she threw on her jacket and ventured outside.
The air had turned much colder. The fog that cloaked the city had trapped the frigid ocean air underneath. The wind picked up the sea’s moisture and carried it inland, leaving a cool dampness on Beth’s face. As she walked back toward the Castro, a nucleus she felt comfortably drawn to, she took out her cell phone and called Candace.
“I told you not to call,” her employee said. “There’s nothing I can’t handle right now.”
“Hello to you, too,” Beth teased. Candace had been adamant about her taking a break.
“Are you okay?” Candace asked.
“Actually, I am. I know this was a crazy impulse, but I’m glad to be here.”
“You’ve earned it and you can sure use the change of scenery,” Candace said. “Relax and enjoy yourself,”
“I’m trying to, but part of me thinks I shouldn’t have left. What if we get a barrage of work and have to turn them around quickly?”
“I seriously doubt it, in this market.” Candace laughed. “Listen, you took care of things when my mother got sick last year, and I can do the same now. Don’t fret over this one, Beth. I know you needed to get away and I’ve got you covered. Just get your mind off L.A. for a while, would you?”
Beth sighed. “Thanks, Candace. I’ll call you after the race.”
Candace wished her luck and told her again not to worry. Laughing Beth ended the call and slid the phone back into her jacket.
As she strolled toward Castro Street, Candace’s advice began to permeate her brain. She was here to get her mind off L.A. and calling the business every day was an unnecessary reminder of all that awaited her when she returned. Of course, she could erase the pressures of work for a while. Stephanie, she couldn’t. There had been deceit and lies, and her life had been torn apart. That horrible cringing feeling came back again as she reached the main drag, and her stomach bunched. She found refuge in a café, sitting at a mahogany table and staring at the menu. She was relieved when the waitress paid her immediate caffeinated attention. Hopefully a chicken crepe would fend off her stomach knots.
Beth shook off the cold as she sipped her coffee and let her gaze wander around the room. She wasn’t the only person sitting alone, but she felt conspicuous. Everyone else looked content, reading newspapers or pecking at their BlackBerry smartphones. She took inventory of the day and time. Monday afternoon. Stephanie would be at work or maybe she’d taken the day off. Either way, she’d probably awoken in the arms of that other woman. On the side of the bed that had belonged to Beth. A side that was supposed to be hers as they grew old together.
Didn’t Stephanie know how much Beth loved her? And that Beth would have done anything for her? No, she didn’t. Or worse yet, she didn’t care. All she cared about was bedding some other woman and throwing away three years.
“Here, I thought you might like another one.” The waitress had returned and was holding out a napkin.
Beth looked down to find hers shredded. Feeling completely foolish, all she could muster was, “Thanks.”
“Women.” The waitress guessed her plight. “You can’t live with ’em and you can’t shoot ’em.”
Well, Beth thought, there was nothing she could do about it now. She’d left L.A. in order to get the breakup off her mind, and so far she’d been able to keep her most negative thoughts at bay. She sliced into her crepe and concentrated on doing just that. She was far from home, and the cool blast of air that blew her way every time the door opened reminded her of that fact. So it shouldn’t be too hard to let go of all that L.A. represented, and start anew. By the time she went back, she wanted to feel more interested in the future than the past.
She looked around the restaurant once more. It was elegantly decorated but still retained a neighborhood feel. She liked the village atmosphere of the Castro. Even with the crowds of tourists, the neighborhood felt laid back and friendly. She could be happy living in a place like this, not that relocating was likely. Still, Beth welcomed the fleeting thought. Lately, her life had felt devoid of possibility. She’d been trapped by her sorrow and attachment, unable to move forward. That had changed.
Not only was her journey to San Francisco physical, it was also emotional. She’d always known that, but she’d had low expectations. Now it was as though a door had opened and all she had to do was walk through it. She was halfway there already, wanting to explore what lay on the other side. All she needed was a little more confidence.
After eating, Beth retrieved her Mercedes. She wasn’t ready to go back to the Coop, so she took a drive around the city. She flipped around the radio dial until she found a station that played soft rock. Right after two great ’80s songs, Mariah Carey’s “Always Be My Baby” came on. That was their song. She could almost feel Stephanie’s body against hers as they danced to it. Her stomach twisted and she cursed out loud. What a crock of shit.
She had to get Stephanie off her mind. She drove every-where she could think of in an attempt to shake off the tentacles of her ex that wrapped incessantly around her brain. She spent some time in the Exploratorium watching the children play. She listened to their untroubled laughter as they manipulated each interactive science exhibit. A while later, she stopped off in Chinatown to buy freshly baked fortune cookies. She ate seven of them, not reading any of the fortunes. A giggle even managed to surface when a street juggler entertained some tourists at Fisherman’s Wharf.
She’d covered a lot of the northern portion of the city, and as she drove back to the Coop, she realized that her day had been punctuated by moments of relaxation and lighter thoughts. Stephanie had actually started to fade again. Like a dirt stain held under running water, the ugly spot was beginning to release its grip. Well, maybe one that might need a little more elbow grease.
After parking near the Coop, Beth let herself in, climbed the stairs to her room, and plopped down on the bed. If she could completely exorcize Stephanie from her brain, maybe she could get back to some semblance of a normal life. Spending time with Mary would help that process. But, then again, maybe it would snarl everything up.
She couldn’t argue with the fact that Mary was a rather enjoyable distraction from her life in L.A. But she was becoming more than that. She was charming and straightforward in a way that was entirely refreshing. And she sure wasn’t anything like Stephanie. Mary told people exactly what she thought without vagueness or trepidation. She had an endless exuberance and approached people and situations with such genuineness and self-assurance that Beth couldn’t help but be drawn to her.
She was pleasantly surprised at her growing attraction to the firefighter. She wondered what it would be like to kiss Mary. She was sure her lips would be soft and inviting. She closed her eyes and could almost feel the warmth of Mary’s face in her hands and the electrifying thrust of her tongue, assuredly talented and sexy.
Beth played it out in her mind. As they kissed, she’d reach down to caress Mary’s leg, breathing in the distinctive mixture of sweat and salt air as she ran one hand over taut, lithe muscles. Mary would pull away from the kiss, her lips wet and silky. Her expression would be full of longing. Beth would become light-headed from the smoldering look, falling into eyes that would signal a shared desire. She would claim Mary’s mouth again, giving in to the essential and primitive need for more, just as she would gulp for air if trapped in a ferocious whirlpool.
Their mouths would meld, as would their bodies, pushing into each other. Mary would reach behind Beth, clutching her cheeks through her running shorts, pinning them together in heated embrace. The pressure would make her squirm and she would feel Mary’s excitement rise to match her own. She would bite and tug at Mary’s lower lip. The kissing, the moist and sultry heat, and the amazingly slow but hit-the-mark grinding would be too much. Mary wouldn’t let go, claiming Beth as hers in that moment.
Beth opened her eyes. Where had that come from? Not so much the kissing, because she’d imagined that from the first moment Mary had dragged her into the bathroom at the party on Saturday night. But imagining Mary gripping her ass in such a provocative way? Stephanie had never done anything like that, and Beth couldn’t remember ever wanting her to.
In the beginning, their relationship had been like any honeymoon, full of silly laughter, rumpled bed sheets, sexy whispers, and ravenous gazes. Stephanie was stable and collected. She was as successful as Beth. They had many mutual friends and enjoyed a committed lovership in a desirable, established neighborhood. There were no surprises and no tension. Everyone viewed their relationship as a model of lesbian success, and they went about life as any couple would, with honest work, errand running, home remodeling, pleasant vacations, and social gatherings. Everything had been fine until the last three months of their relationship, when Stephanie suddenly became sullen, casting a morose cloud that obscured the picture of a happy relationship. They began to fight and even worse, not talk at all.
Beth had clung to the relationship, trying frantically to repair a break she couldn’t even see. She remained devoted to Stephanie, even as the emotional gap between them widened. Their relationship had been so strong for so long that Beth refused to accept that it could just disintegrate. And then one evening, when she returned from work, she found Stephanie sitting in the dark, very drunk and infuriated. She spat angry accusations at Beth, most of which she didn’t understand, but all of which were claims that Beth was an incompetent lover who bored her stiff. Stephanie said she loathed waking up with her because she wasn’t exciting anymore. She blamed Beth for causing her recent depression.
Beth could have been slapped and it wouldn’t have dazed her as much. Stephanie was the one who’d withdrawn and shut down. She was the one who seemed to be throwing their relationship away. And Beth wasn’t going to give the alcohol any credit for the outburst. The ensuing discussion echoed in her mind.
“Since when did I become responsible for your depression?” she’d demanded.
“Do you see anyone else in this house?” Stephanie retorted sarcastically.
“Well yes, actually. You.”
“I’m not happy. Can’t you see that? Living with you is making me…suffocate.”
“You’re not making any sense, Steph.”
“Then maybe this will.” Stephanie’s eyes had grown black. “I’m not in love with you anymore. And I had to get drunk to say that.”
Shock slapped Beth so hard, it drove her back a step. She couldn’t reply, and what followed was an agonizing isolation she didn’t think she could survive. Stephanie had refused to talk to her about that night’s conversation or much of anything else. Beth tried to reason with her, asking her to think about their relationship and what they’d built together. She asked her to agree to couples counseling, and in one of the first sessions, Stephanie revealed her reasons for getting into their relationship. She’d been attracted to Beth’s stability. She’d reasoned that if she tried hard enough, she could make a relationship happen. But she’d finally realized that she’d never been completely happy.
When the counselor tried to explain that she couldn’t blame Beth for her depression, Stephanie had gotten angry and stormed out. She was even angrier at Beth after that, claiming she’d been ambushed in the session and refusing to see the counselor again. A few weeks later, she announced that she was seeing someone else and that she would be bringing her home. To their house.
In painful disbelief, Beth had finally blown up, telling Stephanie that she would not allow that kind of shit. But it had happened anyway. She’d come home one day to find her lover with some woman from her office. Even though Beth’s mind had raced with visions of gunshot wounds and hacked-up limbs, she’d shakily ordered them out of the house. After that, Stephanie moved into the guest room. Alone.
There was no official breakup, other than the one-time insertion of another woman into their home. The relationship was over and the woman never came back. Stephanie moved out.
In the months that followed, Beth had tried desperately to understand what had gone wrong, convinced that if she could just figure out what to do differently, Stephanie would come back. She didn’t know why did she’d held on to such loyalty to Stephanie. She slapped a hand to her forehead, wincing because she’d used more force than intended.
“You wanted a relationship with someone who couldn’t give it back. Get that through your brain,” she said quietly as she rolled over onto her stomach, clutching the pillow in a tight embrace.
All she wanted was someone who wanted to be with her, someone who didn’t pull the rug out from under her. She wanted an ordinary, secure relationship. In the meantime, she had to take care of herself. Maybe she shouldn’t back away from Mary. What would it hurt to say yes to being with someone who made her laugh? That would be taking care of herself.
She would be seeing Mary tomorrow. The thought sent warmth coursing through her, starting in her toes and rising to her face. She sighed. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted Mary to hold on to her ass and pull her confidently in. But damn it, she still possessed the twisting feeling that she hadn’t quite ended with Stephanie. Yet here she was fantasizing about Mary, who was amazing and sexy and captivating. How could something so wonderful to imagine feel like a betrayal of Stephanie? It was crazy.
Beth sat up. What did she owe Stephanie? Move on, for shit sakes! Mary was honest and exciting and breathtaking. And she was right here, wanting her. Also, by the way, stand Stephanie next to Mary, and who would any sensible woman step toward? Beth got off her bed and stared out the window toward the fading light of the sun, asking herself that question. The answer came instantly.
It sure as hell wouldn’t be Stephanie.