Illusion

By Sabrina H. Faith

Published by Sabrina H. Faith

© Copyright 2011 Sabrina H. Faith

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Chapter 1

“The fact that the teacher implied that a child should only have one mother absolutely infuriates me.” Jen vigorously washed a bundle of asparagus as she spoke to her partner Abby.

“I mean, really, what business is it of the school if a child has two parents of the same sex beyond providing support to the child in a crisis situation?” She dried and laid the asparagus on a sheet of foil.

“All I know is if our child wants to make two Mother’s Day cards, she should be allowed to make two cards.” Jen paused to catch her breath. She had ranted non-stop about the Mother’s Day card situation for a full five minutes. She added salt, pepper, and fat-free butter to the asparagus before she wrapped it tightly in the foil and handed it to Abby.

Abby recognized the brief lull in Jen’s speech as the prime time for her to inject her own thoughts into the one-sided conversation. She’d have to move fast or the opportunity would be lost forever. She quickly swallowed the Amber Dos Equis she had been drinking.

“This doesn’t have to be a big deal, Jen. Maybe the teacher rejected Amie’s request based on a limited amount of art supplies in the classroom as opposed to the tried, but not-always-true, homophobic teacher reason.”

“Oh, come on, Abby! That’s ridiculous. This is a clear-cut case of discrimination if I ever heard it.” Jen moved on to the salad. Tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, and red bell peppers lined the cutting board, ready to be chopped.

Abby sighed. “Okay, well, that was my two cents. I’m going out to check the meat.”

Jen watched Abby open the sliding glass door that led to the deck of their comfy, middle-class home. Abby raised the grill which allowed a huge plume of deliciously seasoned smoke to escape and tempt the neighbors who were also outside on this unseasonably warm May evening.

Maybe Abby is right. Perhaps I’m reading way too much into this situation. Jen looked on as Abby expertly extinguished a flame that had threatened to engulf a pork chop. The violent flame turned into a dark but powerful fog that seemed to irritate Abby’s eyes.

Jen wetted a paper towel and grabbed another beer for Abby from the fridge. She went outside.

“You’re right, babe.” Jen gently wiped the irritant from Abby’s eyes before she handed the beer to her. “I’m probably blowing this situation way out of proportion. I’ll let it rest.”

Abby seemed grateful for the beer. “It’s your decision. If you want to contact the school, go ahead.” She closed the lid of the grill and simultaneously swallowed a long gulp of beer.

“I want to, but we can play the waiting game. If Amie brings it up again, we are totally going to say something.”

Abby’s blond, spiked hair did not move as she shook her head yes in support of Jen and pulled a lighter from her pocket. Jen recognized the gesture. Abby was done with the conversation. The lighter meant Abby needed a cigarette. Jen hated cigarettes and Abby knew it, but it didn’t stop her from smoking. Jen’s long, wavy, dark tresses swung like a monkey on a vine as she turned to go back inside the house. She and Abby had compromised on the smoking issue many years ago. Abby could smoke, but her nasty puffing habit was relegated to the outdoors. Abby was not allowed to smoke in the house or in their cars.

Jen placed her attention back on the salad. She adjusted the vegetables just so. Presentation was everything. Very few people appreciated the artistic display that resulted when a salad was arranged properly. The contrast of the vegetable colors intentionally placed on individual salad plates looked so much better than a haphazardly tossed salad in a big bowl.

“Amie.” Jen called out to her six-year-old daughter who, despite the warm weather, sat in the family room, eyes glued to the television. “Come set the table.”

“Can I just watch it for another minute?” Amie called back. “This is the best part.”

“How do you know it’s the best part?”

“Because I’ve seen this a hundred million thousand times,” Amie reasoned.

“If you’ve already seen it a hundred million thousand times, that’s a good reason to come, right now, and set the table.”

Amie rose begrudgingly from her spot on the floor. Jen watched the curly haired child walk to the kitchen, shoulders slumped.

“Why do I have to set the table every day?”

“Don’t you want the table to look nice when you sit down to eat?” Jen wondered why Amie thought setting the table was considered the chore from hell.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t look at the table when it’s time to eat. I look at my plate and all the icky vegetables you put on it.”

Of course. Amie’s thought processes and actions mirrored Abby’s more and more each day. The two of them would be content to eat cereal three times a day, peanut butter and jelly off of a napkin, or – gag – tv dinners.

“Amie, just wash your hands and set the table, please.” Jen arranged the last of the vegetables atop the salad plates. She looked outside in time to see Abby put out a cigarette – her second? – and then remove the pork chops and asparagus from the grill. Jen opened the door for Abby.

“Smells delicious,” Jen said as Abby scooted past her with the food.

“Where do you want it?”

“Over there.” Jen motioned to a countertop.

Abby set the tray of food down, then she went back outside to bring in the cooking utensils.

“The table looks beautiful, Amie. Thank you.” Jen praised Amie while she transferred the asparagus from the foil to a serving dish.

“We’re having salad and asparagus?”

“Yes, honey. Why? What’s wrong?”

Amie slumped into a chair. “Nothing.” She placed her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands.

“Amie,” Jen said as she set the pork chops and asparagus on the table, “please take your elbows off the table.”

Chapter 2

Jen stood in front of the marble basin in the master bathroom. She applied a peach facial mask and allowed it to set while she filed her nails.

“Babe, it’s our turn to host the girls for cards this month. Do you want to have them over this weekend?” Jen peeked around the bathroom doorway at Abby.

Abby was already in bed, texting. “Don’t you think it’s a little late notice for this weekend?”

“Yes. Probably. But it’s the only semi-free weekend we have this month.” Jen walked into the bedroom. “Who are you texting at this hour?”

“Brian. Work stuff.” Abby set her phone on the nightstand.

“Oh. So what do you think? This weekend?” Jen pressed.

Abby turned from her back to her side so she could face Jen. “This weekend is fine.”

“Good. I’ll call Bev and Joyce tomorrow.” Jen bent over Abby to give her a kiss goodnight. Jen still needed to shower. She guessed, based on the droop of Abby’s eyes, that Abby would be asleep before she was done.

Abby reached for Jen’s thigh through the opening of her fuzzy, pink robe. Her thigh tingled as it always did whenever Abby touched her. The current that raced through Jen’s body was quick and unavoidable. It had been that way from the very first kiss Abby had placed on Jen’s unsuspecting lips many years ago.

Abby’s hand cupped Jen’s bare bottom, nudging her to the bed. This move suggested Abby was not quite as tired as Jen had thought. Robe still on, but naked beneath, Jen straddled Abby and forgot all about the mask that was drying on her face. Abby untied the belt of the robe which caused it to fall, slightly, from Jen’s shoulders. Her rose-colored nipples hardened. Her sandy-white, beach-colored skin developed chill bumps. She knew the hardening of her nipples and the development of chill bumps had absolutely nothing to do with the sudden exposure to air, and everything to do with Abby’s electrifying touch.

Jen slid Abby’s boxers down so she could feel the silkiness of Abby beneath her. Jen loved the way Abby’s hair felt against her open, vaginal lips.

Rising slightly, Abby removed the white tank top she had worn to bed. Then, she placed her hands on both sides of Jen’s hips and began to gyrate slowly. Jen allowed the waves of Abby’s hips to lull her to the magical place that only two lovers can share, the place where two hearts intertwine and ultimately beat as one.

The rhythmic movement quickened as both Jen and Abby were equally stimulated. Abby’s fingertips lightly grazed Jen’s waist. She arched her back, readying herself for the intense explosion that was mere seconds away. She closed her eyes. She felt Abby’s thighs harden beneath her as Abby’s body tensed for orgasm. Jen, too, was ready. She placed Abby’s hands on her breasts whereupon Abby squeezed her nipples. Together they exploded in a burst of creamy satisfaction. Abby rose to suck on Jen’s breasts and Jen wove her hands through Abby’s hair as they both enjoyed the remaining spasm of their simultaneous orgasm.

The mask Jen had so diligently spread on her face was no longer hard – it had softened from perspiration and threatened to drip if Jen didn’t wash it off immediately.

“I’ll be right back, babe.” Jen extracted herself from Abby’s clutches so she could wash her face.

It took two minutes to wash, rinse, dry, and moisturize her face, but when Jen returned to the bedroom, a naked Abby lay asleep amid the tossed sheets.

I knew she was tired. Jen bent to kiss Abby and pulled the sheets up around her, She then retreated to the bathroom to shower.

Chapter 3

Jen tidied the house all afternoon in preparation for the company she and Abby would entertain that evening. Abby was still at work. Amie would be home from school any minute. Jen sat down on the sofa to enjoy the last few moments of solitude before the house came alive with noise from both the residents and the invited guests that were all due to arrive.

Card night always proved to be a lively event no matter whose house it was held at. Tonight Linda and Bev would bring beer for the grown-ups and juice for the kids. Terry and Joyce would bring snacks – usually some culinary experiment from the bakery they owned and operated. The host house, in this case, Abby and Jen’s, didn’t have to supply anything other than the cards. Card night had begun when all three couples met and befriended one another in college. It was a tradition that had lasted nearly twenty years.

Linda and Bev had two adopted sons from China that Amie loved to boss around. Linda was a known cheater in the relationship. Despite numerous indiscretions, Bev always forgave Linda.

Terry and Joyce did not have children, but they did have two Alaskan Huskies that they took everywhere – even to card night. It wouldn’t be so bad if the dogs stayed outside, but He-Man and She-Woman were indoor animals. They were good dogs, but they shed all over the place. It drove Jen nuts whenever they came over because she knew she’d end up vacuuming daily for a full week to rid her house of the dog hair that the two canines would leave behind.

Dogs aside, Terry and Joyce owned a quaint neighborhood bakery that was more known for its coffee than for its sweet treats. Every morning the line to acquire an individually brewed cup of coffee stretched down the street and around the block. Terry and Joyce put their heart and soul into the bakery and the profits were more than evident.

Jen was jolted from her thoughts by the sound of the front door slamming and crying from Amie.

“Amie, what’s wrong?” Jen jumped up from the sofa to tend to Amie.

Amie sniffed. “I only have one Mother’s Day card.”  She wiped at her eyes. “My teacher wouldn’t let me make two so I made it for you.”

Jen stood piping mad as she wiped away Amie’s tears. She tried to contain her anger so Amie wouldn’t see it. “Don’t worry, honey. You can go upstairs and make a Mother’s Day card for Abby right now, before she gets home from work. She’ll never know you made it at home.

“You don’t think she’ll know I made it at home or that I chose to make yours first and hers second?” The stress from having to choose which mom she should make the card for weighed on Amie’s heart.

“Absolutely not. And I promise not to tell.”

Amie thought about it for a minute. “I guess it’ll be okay. I’ll put extra glitter on hers just to be safe.” Amie convinced herself that extra glitter would solve her dilemma.

“Extra glitter is perfect. Go on upstairs. Abby’ll be home soon.”

Jen watched Amie scamper up the stairs. The nerve. Jen picked up the telephone to call the school.  Freakin’ idiots. How dare they restrict a child, my child, from making a card for both mothers. I knew it wasn’t the case of limited school supplies.

“Yes. This is Jen Barrett. Mother of Amie Barrett-Bond, first-grader in Ms. Dorn’s class. I’d like to speak to the principal. Now, please.” Jen held the telephone tight to her ear and waited impatiently for the principal to answer. The wait did not take long. “Mrs. Reeves? Yes. This is Jen Barrett. Mother – one of the mothers – of Amie Barrett-Bond. I would like to schedule a meeting with your and Amie’s teacher, Ms. Dorn, first thing Monday morning.”

Jen listened as the principal provided reasons as to why she could not meet on Monday. Though her reasons may have been valid, Jen would not budge.

“Let me make myself clear, Mrs. Reeves. My daughter was discriminated against by a teacher at your school. You can sit down and talk with me behind closed doors on Monday morning or I will make my grievances known, loudly, to the media. My preference is to speak with you Monday; however, the choice is yours. Until then, have a nice weekend, Mrs. Reeves.”

Jen slammed the telephone down before the principal could respond. She was so incensed she opened the bottle of Chardonnay that had been chilling in the fridge. She downed two glasses and contemplated a third as Abby walked through the door.

“Whoa. Where’s the fire?” Abby noted the half empty bottle of wine.

“It’s that darn teacher of Amie’s. Ms. Dorn. Amie came home from school totally distraught because she was unable to make two Mother’s Day cards.” Jen poured the third glass of wine.

“It’s just what I suspected, Abby. Her teacher is not fond of homosexual parenting.” Jen drank. “I called the principal. We’re going up there first thing Monday morning.”

Abby ran her hand through her hair. “Geez. Where’s Amie?”

“She’s upstairs making you a card. I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Come Sunday morning, when Amie gives us our cards, I’ll be none the wiser.” Abby pulled Jen in for a hug. “But, for now, you need to calm down. Relax. We’ll get to the bottom of this on Monday. Right now,” Abby kissed Jen on the lips, “you need to lay off the wine or you’re gonna be wasted before the girls get here.”

“I know. I just got so mad …”

“Relax.” Abby whispered to Jen. “I’m going to run upstairs and take a quick shower. Join me?” Abby raised her eyebrows up and down, Groucho Marx style.

Jen laughed at Abby’s naughty suggestion. “Later, babe. I promise.”

“Promises. Promises.” Abby ran up the stairs two at a time leaving Jen to stare at her backside.

Abby always had a way of saying the right words to calm Jen who had a tendency to elevate everything to panic mode. Aside from Abby’s boyishly good looks, her relaxed demeanor was one of the main reasons Jen had fallen in love with her. Abby’s calm evened out Jen’s hype. Abby’s blond accentuated Jen’s brunette. Abby’s extrovert complemented Jen’s introvert.

Then, there was the other way of looking at it. Abby’s lack of attention to detail severely interfered with Jen’s neatness. Abby’s smoking conflicted with Jen’s non-smoking. Abby’s in-the-blink-of-an-eye style of decision-making completely, without fail, jeopardized every aspect of Jen’s to-the-tee style of planning and rationalizing.

Even still, as polar opposites, there was nothing Jen wouldn’t do for Abby. She loved Abby with all of her being, as if they were legally wed. Through good and bad, thick and thin, Abby was her partner for life.

Chapter 4

Friday night cards. Euchre to be exact. They began the tradition in college when attending frat parties where drunken guys groped and attempted to feel up every woman who walked through the door quickly grew old and insulting. Abby, Jen, Linda, Bev, Terry and Joyce formed their own eclectic group and opted to make Friday night card night – six-player Euchre with a few of their own modified rules.

Now, as adults with responsibilities, children, businesses, and the like, they reduced their playing time to once a month. It was the one night when the friends could be young women again. More times than not, they’d reminisce on their younger years and recall some of the memorable events of their joint past.

Abby grinned ear-to-ear as she slapped the jack of spades onto her forehead. It was a cocky move that all the women recognized. It meant Abby was going for the win. Jen looked at the cards in her hand. All red. Abby had better have a darned good hand because Jen would be of no help to her. Jen watched as Abby threw out spade after spade. She also had the jack of clubs. Abby and Jen won the round. Jen reached to give Abby a high-five across the table.

“Looks like the house rigged the cards.” The point of Linda’s eyebrows arched upward as she playfully accused Abby and Jen of cheating.

“That was pure skill.” Abby loved to talk trash.

“Yeah. Yeah. I need a smoke. Coming?” Linda picked up her beer and backed away from the table. Abby quickly followed.

“I’ll take the dogs out.” Terry motioned for He-Man and She-Woman to follow her as she joined Abby and Linda on the deck.

“Nicotine fiends. We only played one hand and they’re already taking a smoke break,” Jen complained.

“I think cigarettes are the guise. The real reason for the break is so they can chat without us hearing all the details,” Joyce reasoned.

“Linda’s cheating on me.” Bev’s eyes drooped with despair as she confided in her friends.

“Again?” Jen questioned without offering any empathy.

“Bev, you’ve got to put your foot down. As long as you keep forgiving Linda every time she gets a whiff of another woman, the more she’s going to do it.” Joyce threw her hands in the air like the resolution to Linda’s cheating was a no-brainer.

“She can’t help it. She’s so good looking. Women have always flocked to her.”

Jen shared a glance with Joyce that suggested Bev would never get it.

“If Abby ever cheated on me, I’d send her packing.”

“Really, Jen? Even after all the two of you have been through?” Bev asked.

“If the love is true, there’ll never be a need to cheat.” Joyce interjected before Jen could answer Bev’s question.

Jen nodded her head in agreement with Joyce. “Just do what’s right for you Bev. We’ve had this conversation far too many times and nothing Joyce and I say is going to change how you respond to Linda’s indiscretions. Right?” Jen looked to both Bev and Joyce to see if either woman would disagree with what she said. Neither did.

“Okay. So totally different topic now. Amie came home from school today in tears. Her stupid teacher wouldn’t let her make two Mother’s Day cards.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Joyce rolled her eyes.

“Why wouldn’t they let her make two cards?” Bev asked.

“Because the teacher is a homophobic prick. Abby and I are going to the school Monday morning.” Jen drank some beer.

“It’s sad, but this probably won’t be the only time someone inadvertently or purposely suggests to Amie that her family is unacceptable.” Joyce sighed. “That’s why Terry and I opted not to have children. The criticism can be so overwhelming. And it’s so hard on the children.”

“Well, if a teacher ever does something like that to the boys, Linda will have a fit.”

“Abby has been remarkably level-headed during this whole ordeal. I can’t say she’ll remain that way come Monday.” Jen scratched her head. “The thing is, I always knew the day would come when someone would say something or do something that would alienate Amie and make her feel like her family is unworthy. I just didn’t think it would happen so soon, at such a young age.”

“We can protest outside the school. Our bakery customers will picket in a flash. All we have to do is offer them free coffee.” Joyce attempted to ease the conversation back to happy.

“Who’s giving away free coffee?” Terry asked as she, Abby, Linda, and the dogs came back inside the house. The smell of cigarettes clung to their clothes.

“We are, dear. Free coffee Monday,” Joyce joked.

Jen and Bev laughed as they watched Terry silently calculate the cost associated with providing a free cup of coffee to all their customers.

“She’s kidding, Terry. Relax.” Bev giggled as the worry lines eased from Terry’s face.

“Don’t mess with Terry’s money,” Abby laughed. “Anyone need another beer?”

“All around,” Linda said.

Abby handed a beer to each of her friends. She saved Jen’s for last as she first placed a kiss atop Jen’s head.

“Awww. You two have always been so affectionate.” Bev said with just a hint of jealousy.

Jen smiled at her friend while wishing better for her.

“Deal ’em,” Linda said.

Without even looking at her cards, Abby said, “I’m going alone this time.” Going alone was a term that meant Abby felt she could win the hand. Jen chuckled and laid her cards down. Abby had always been competitive, be it cards, school, business, life. Abby had always gone for the win.

Chapter 5

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Amie jumped into the bed with Abby and Jen. She handed each of them a card made of construction paper. “I made them myself.” She snuggled under the sheets between her two moms.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” Jen leaned over to give Amie a kiss.

Abby opened her card and glitter spilled onto the sheets. “Wow! Lots of sparkle. I like it. Thanks, kiddo.”

“I’ve already made your breakfast, too.”

Jen sat up straight. “You did?” She tried not to appear overly concerned, but the thought of the house burning down was too much for her. She reached for her robe.

“Yep. I made cereal. I already poured the milk, too.” Amie pushed the blanket off Abby and herself.

“We better hurry then.” Abby jumped out of the bed. She scooped Amie into her arms for a bear hug, slung her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and ran out the bedroom.

“Hurry, Mommy. Your cereal’s gonna get soggy,” Amie called to Jen.

Jen could hear the giggles coming from Amie as Abby whisked her down the stairs. She put on her robe and slid her feet into her slippers before she followed the two downstairs.

In the kitchen, Amie had made an effort to not only pour their cereal and milk, but to also wrap their spoons inside napkins. She’d also taped five pieces of paper together like a banner, wrote Happy Mother’s Day in orange marker, and colored butterflies, flowers, and stars.

“Amie, this is so sweet,” Jen gushed.

“Yeah. I never could’ve pulled this off for my mom when I was your age.” Abby sat down to eat her cereal.

“Can somebody help me make coffee?” Amie asked.

“Absolutely. But let’s eat our cereal first. We’ll make the coffee afterwards.” Jen sat down at the table.

Amie sat and blessed their food. “God, thanks for giving me two good moms. Please don’t let the cereal be too soggy. Amen.”

“Amen.” Abby and Jen said in unison. The cereal was soggy, but Abby and Jen ate it like it was the best cereal they’d ever tasted. Amie was pleased.

“Let’s make that coffee,” Jen said to Amie after the cereal was all gone. Abby had gone outside to get the paper and smoke a cigarette.

“You didn’t tell Mom, right, Mommy?” Amie asked Jen in reference to the card mishap at school.

“Your secret is safe.” Jen winked at Amie.

“Good. Can I wear my pink dress to church today?”

“We’re going to skip church this morning.”

“Whoo hoo!” Amie screamed and ran off.

For the most part, they went to church regularly, but they tended to skip Easter, Mother’s Day and Christmas.

“It’s just too crowded,” Abby would always complain. “Where are these sinners the other three hundred and sixty-two days of the year?”

In some respects, Abby was right. Why was church more crowded on these days than others? A person’s faith was supposed to be three hundred and sixty-five days a year. It wasn’t an argument that Jen felt was worth having so she and Abby compromised and they didn’t go to church on those three holidays.

“It’s really nice outside,” Abby said as she came in with the newspaper.

“It does look pretty out.” Jen had opened the kitchen blinds and admired the cloudless, royal blue sky.

“Any thoughts on what you’d like to do today?”

“Hmm. Maybe plant some flowers, get the soil ready for the garden.” Jen prepared their coffee with cream and sugar before she handed Abby her mug.

“Tell you what,” Abby started. “Let’s go upstairs, get back in bed, drink our coffee, read the paper, snuggle a bit, and then go get the plants.”

“Mmm. Snuggle?” Jen gave Abby a knowing look.

“Snuggle,” Abby confirmed with a wink. “I’ll even shake the glitter off the sheets for you.”

“Count me in.” Jen turned to go upstairs.

“Hey,” Abby reached for Jen’s hand.

“Yes?”

“Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Happy Mother’s Day.”

Chapter 6

“Hi. Jen Barrett and Abby Bond. We’re here to see Mrs. Reeves,” Jen said to the cute, black, thirty-something, secretary.

“Sure. Have a seat. I’ll let Mrs. Reeves know you’re here.” The trendy secretary had on a pair of killer shoes that under any other circumstance, Jen would have asked where to buy them. Today, however, was all about Amie.

“Is that Brian wondering why you aren’t at work yet?” Jen asked Abby who was texting.

“Yep. I told him we’re at Amie’s school and I should be there in about an hour.” Abby snapped the cell phone onto the holder on her waist.

“Mrs. Reeves will see you now.”

Jen thanked the secretary as she and Abby stood to enter Mrs. Reeves’ office.

“Ms. Bond. Ms. Barrett. Please, be seated.” Mrs. Reeves shook each of their hands and motioned for them to sit in the chairs across from her desk. “What can I do for you?”

Jen launched into extremely mad mom mode. “You can start by inviting our daughters teacher, Ms. Dorn, to this meeting.”

“Perhaps you can provide me with the background facts first.” Mrs. Reeves tilted her head down and looked at Jen and Abby over the top rim of her glasses. It was a classic principal move and it didn’t deter Jen.

“I’ll make it quick and easy for you, Mrs. Reeves. Amie has two moms, myself and Abby. Amie’s class made Mother’s Day cards. Amie was informed that she could only make one card. She was forced to choose. She was devastated. We want to know why our child was not allowed to make two cards for her two mothers.”

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Reeves pressed the intercom button on the telephone that sat on her desk. “Tracey, please call Ms. Dorn down to my office immediately. Send the building sub to her room.”

Mrs. Reeves looked up from the telephone. Jen could tell the situation was uncomfortable for her. Abby sat back in her chair looking bored. If Jen didn’t know her partner well, she would have been totally turned off by Abby’s demeanor. But she did know Abby well. She knew Abby would give everyone a fair chance to state their position before she stated her own.

A timid knock could be heard on the door which had been left ajar.

“Mrs. Reeves? You wanted to see me?” A mousy young girl barely out of her teens entered the office.

“Ms. Dorn, pull up a chair.”

The young teacher glanced at Jen and Abby as she sat in the only remaining chair in Mrs. Reeves office.

“These two ladies, parents of a child in your classroom, are here today with a disturbing story. These are the parents of Amie Barrett-Bond.”

A dull, pink coloring surfaced around Ms. Dorn’s neck.

“Did you instruct Amie that she could only make one Mother’s Day card?”

“I … uh … Yes, I did.” The pink blush that had consumed Ms. Dorn’s neck spread to her face and turned a shade darker.

“Were you aware or did the student advise you that she had two moms?”

“I was aware that Amie had two mothers. Yes.”

“May I ask why she was not allowed to make two cards?”

“Can I be candid, Mrs. Reeves?”

“You may.”

“I didn’t allow Amie to make two cards because my religious beliefs do not support same-sex unions.”

“How dare you force your views about same-sex unions into the classroom!” Jen bellowed.

“Ms. Dorn, as a public institution, it is not our duty to infuse our personal opinions into the classroom or onto the students.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Reeves, Amie’s parent situation has a direct impact on my classroom. If I had allowed her to make two cards, the other students would have questioned why she received special treatment. The other students would have questioned why she was allowed to make two cards. I was not prepared to explain homosexuality to my students.” Ms. Dorn was obstinate in her views.

“Ms. Dorn, I am appalled at your lack of judgment in this situation. This perceived problem could have been handled with far more sensitivity.”

“I am appalled at your lack of support, Mrs. Reeves.” Ms. Dorn’s lips tightened.

“Well,” Abby spoke directly to Ms. Dorn. “We are appalled by your ignorance. Two parents, same-sex or otherwise, are still two people who love their child. Furthermore, the heart of this matter is the child. Not homosexuality. Amie should never have been forced to choose which mom was worthy of a card. That was a monumental decision for a young child to have to make. She was devastated.” Abby stood.

“Mrs. Reeves, we realize that the school year is almost over. However, we would like to request an immediate transfer of our daughter out of Ms. Dorn’s classroom. We would also like to request the removal of Ms. Dorn from the classroom upon completion of the school year. We will submit this request, in writing, to the superintendent and the school board. Last, we request that if the district does not have an anti-discrimination guideline which expressly focuses on the student of same-sex parents, one be drafted immediately.” Abby walked to the open door.

“Ms. Dorn, you’re an asshole.” Abby walked out of the office.

Jen scooted her chair back and stood. She started to say something, but decided Abby had summed it up fairly well. Jen walked out of the office. The secretary gave her an empathetic smile.

Abby was outside and had already lit a cigarette. She exhaled the smoke in a slow, steady breath.

“You did good, babe.” Jen patted Abby’s back.

“The world is full of Ms. Dorns, Jen. I want to smack them all.”

“Me, too.”

“Amie’s not coming back here next year.” Abby puffed on her cigarette.

“That’s fine. I don’t want her to come back either.” Jen loved when Abby took control of a situation and put her foot down.

“Fucking assholes.” Abby dropped the cigarette butt and put it out with the bottom of her shoe.

Chapter 7

“Do we leave for Florida today?” Amie watched as Jen folded clothes and laid them inside the suitcase.

“Tomorrow. We leave for Florida tomorrow.” Jen organized their clothes so that they’d be color-coordinated each day. It was hard to believe that summer vacation was here already. Every summer they drove down to Florida and stayed at a time-share they owned just off the eastern coast. They’d be gone for two weeks with nothing to do but relax on the beach.

“Are we going to see Mickey Mouse this time?”

“Yes, we’ll visit Mickey Mouse.”

“What about Minnie Mouse? Will she be there?”

“Where there’s a Mickey, there’s a Minnie.”

“Yes!” Amie bounced around the bedroom. “The boys are coming, right?”

“Yes. Linda, Bev, and the boys will meet us at the beach.”

“Are they going to see Mickey and Minnie?”

“Not this time.” Jen wondered how many times she had answered these questions from Amie.

“Are Terry and Joyce coming, too?”

“No. They’re staying home.”

“What about He-Man and She-Woman?”

“He-Man and She-Woman are going to stay home with their moms.” Jen cringed at the thought of having to clean sand and dog hair from the beach house.

“Rats. I think they would like it at the beach.” Amie left Jen alone to pack.

Jen looked at her list. She’d packed sheets, towels, dish cloths, hygiene items, swimsuits, and clothes. They’d stop for food to stock the fridge once they got to Florida. Abby was at the shop right now getting an oil change for the truck. Terry and Joyce would swing by the house while they were gone to check on things and water the garden. Yes. Jen had everything covered. They’d go to Disney for a few days then straight to the beach house where Linda, Bev, and the boys would join them. It was going to be a great vacation. Jen was startled as the house telephone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe. I’m still at the shop. The truck needs new brakes and pads. It’s going to take another hour to an hour and a half,” Abby advised.

“Great. Take a vehicle in for a forty dollar oil change, bring it home with six hundred dollar brakes. Lovely.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Do you want me and Amie to come pick you up?”

“Nah. It’s okay. I’ll wait for it.”

“Do you have the credit card with you?”

“Yeah, I grabbed it before I left the house.”

“Alright. We’ll be right here. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Jen hung up the telephone. It never failed. A big, unexpected expense right before vacation. At least they had the money in their account to pay it off right away.

Suitcases packed, Jen dusted the house and cleaned the bathrooms. She emptied the dishwasher and double-checked the laundry baskets to make sure all the dirty clothes had been washed. She’d vacuum in the morning – right before they hit the road.

Satisfied that the house was clean, Jen took Amie outside. They’d ride their bikes to the post office. Jen and Abby had put the finishing touches on the disgruntled letter to the superintendent and school board that morning. Mailing the letter was the last thing she had to do before they left for Florida.

Chapter 8

Jen watched as Abby hoisted Amie onto her shoulders so Amie could enjoy the various characters and performers march in the parade.

“There’s Mickey and Minnie!” Amie shouted. “Right there, up front!” She waved to the two immaculately dressed, oversized mice. “Did you see that? Mickey waved to me and blew me a kiss!”

“No way!” Jen had to stand on her tip-toes to see the parade.

“Did you see Minnie wave to me?” Abby asked Jen. “She thinks I’m hot.”

“Minnie better watch herself. I might have a mouse trap hidden in my purse,” Jen chided.

There was something about Disney that always managed to bring the utter joy to a child and the inner child out of an adult. The crowds. The noise. The colors. The lights. When all those elements intertwined, they somehow managed to create a euphoric sense and belief in magic.

“Let’s go to the castle again.” Amie pointed toward the huge palace that sat in the middle of the park.

“Honey, it’s late. The park is about to close.” Jen hated for the magic to end just as much as Amie.

“Oh, Mommy, please. Can we just walk by it one more time?” Amie pleaded.

Before Jen could say no, Abby grabbed Jen’s hand, held tight to Amie with her other hand, and guided them through the crowd to see the palace.

“Isn’t it beauuutifuuullll?” Amie admired the castle.

“Yes, it is.” Jen didn’t try to fight her inner child. She allowed herself to remain caught up in the magic feeling one last time before they left the park.

The ride to the hotel was short, but Amie tuckered out in the back seat. Her mouse ears fell to the floor as her head tilted to the side and her tiny body succumbed to sleep.

“She is wiped out.” Abby lifted Amie from the back seat to carry her into the hotel.

“Mickey Mouse will do that to you every time.” Jen closed the car door and led the way to their room. She unlocked the door and held it open for Abby. She then pulled down the bedspread so Abby could lay Amie down.

“I had a great day with you.” Abby pulled Jen close, for a kiss.

“Me, too.”

“Minnie actually waved to me this year!”

“Babe, you’ve been chasing after Minnie for a long time. If you haven’t gotten her by now, I think it’s time you let her go.” Jen unbuttoned her shirt before she walked toward the bathroom. “Besides, there are other … options.”

“Options? Really? What kind?” Abby followed Jen with her eyes.

Jen moved inside the bathroom. Neither Abby or Amie, if she should suddenly awake, could see her. Jen tossed her shirt and bra just outside the bathroom door. “Options,” she reiterated.

It didn’t take long for Abby to appear at the bathroom door. “I love having options,” Abby said as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

Chapter 9

The beach house had been boarded shut all winter. It was a little musty inside, but nothing that an open window and a fresh summer breeze couldn’t cure.

Jen swept the floors and dusted while Abby and Amie brought in their luggage and a few groceries they had stopped to purchase from the local grocery store.

“We should live here permanently.” Abby set a grocery bag on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t know. Living here permanently might kill some of the nostalgia. I look forward to coming down during the summer. If anything, I’d probably like to stay longer. Maybe a month instead of two weeks.”

“Yeah. We need to figure out how we can make that happen for next year.”

“Can I put on my swimsuit?” Amie asked as she lugged her suitcase toward a bedroom.

“Yes, you may,” Jen started. “But first, I need you and Abby …” Jen turned to where she thought Amie and Abby stood, but they were nowhere to be found, having disappeared to change into their swimsuits at the first sound of “yes.”

“Figures.” Jen rolled her eyes. She continued to put the groceries away. She then made the beds up with clean linens and cleaned the bathroom before she could join Abby and Amie on the beach.

“Thanks for your help.” Jen kicked off her sandals, allowing her toes to sink down into the hot sand. She spread her beach towel next to Abby and smoothed the corners before she lay on it.

A sheepish grin spread across Amie’s already tanned face. “Somebody had to come out and watch Amie.” Abby poured suntan lotion into her hand to rub onto Jen.

Jen allowed herself to relax as Abby massaged the thick lotion onto her back. The early noon sun warmed her skin as she inhaled the fishy, salt-smelling air. “Don’t think this massage is your ticket out of the dog house,” Jen murmured drowsily, permitting the massage and sun to quickly relax her.

“No. Never.” Abby tried to work out a knot buried deep within Jen’s shoulder. “I’m in deep shit and under no circumstances will this little ol’ massage score me any brownie points.” Abby deepened the pressure to Jen’s shoulder as she spoke.

Jen weakened. Abby’s massages always soothed her to a point of indifference.

“You are getting very sleepy.” Abby playfully attempted to hypnotize Jen into forgiveness. “When you awaken from your slumber you will no longer be mad at Abby.”

Jen laughed. “Just shut up and massage.”

“Your wish is my command. But remember, Abby is not in the dog house. She is a dork, but she is not in trouble.” Abby’s continued massage, the heat from the sun, and the sound of the waves rushing to the shore before gently receding back out into the vastness of the ocean lulled Jen to a peaceful slumber.

She slept for an hour before she awoke to the sound of repetitive buzzing close to her ear. She lay still, kept her eyes closed, and hoped the vibrating would stop before sleep distanced itself from her tired body. The noise eventually stopped. Jen was pleased. She felt herself drifting back to the much desired point of relaxation when the buzzing started again. Jen sat up and scanned the beach for Abby and Amie. She spotted them down close to the water building a sand castle. Intent on not having to hear Abby’s phone any longer, Jen reached to turn it off. She looked at the screen and saw Abby had four missed calls and two unread messages. Thinking it may have been Linda and Bev, since Linda was notorious for getting lost, Jen opened one message at a time.

She froze. What the hell? The first message read: I know you are having a blast in Florida with your “wife,” but I am missing you here at home. The second message was a picture of a woman’s breasts. The message read: Remember these?

Jen looked up from the phone, head in a fog, in time to see a large wave threaten to demolish the sandcastle Abby and Amie had built too close to the shore. Jen wished the wave would venture high enough up the beach to suck her up and carry her out to sea. How could she?

Amie looked up from the water and waved. Jen couldn’t muster up enough strength to wave back. Who was this other woman?

Amie and Abby ran up from the now flattened sandcastle toward Jen. Amie zigged and zagged while Abby chased her. Sand stuck to their calf muscles and feet as they reached the towel Jen lay on. Water from the ocean dripped from their bodies.

“The water swallowed my sandcastle,” Amie announced with an air of indifference.

Jen still held Abby’s cell phone in her hands. She looked up at Abby. Her heart cried out Why? Her eyes blazed with fury. Seeing the phone in Jen’s hands, guilt dripped from Abby faster than the ocean water that had clung to her body.

“Jen …” Abby started.

Jen stood up, cell phone still in hand. She ran toward the water. Amie, thinking her mom was playing a game, followed her laughing. Jen dove into the water. She released the cell phone. It sank slowly to the bottom of the ocean.

“Mommy, wait,” Amie called after her.

Jen was long gone. She was way too far ahead of Amie for the young child to catch up. Jen couldn’t hear Amie over the noise of the ocean lapping against her body as she swam. Her fury propelled her further and further out toward the middle of the ocean. She was exhausted – her body hadn’t been worked in this manner in a long time. But still she swam. When she reached a buoy, she stopped. Her tears, large and steady droplets, traveled the length of her face, paused at her chin and then plunged into the ocean as she treaded water and questioned why.

Chapter 10

Jen floated in the water like a piece of waterlogged driftwood. The current rocked her back and forth like a mother who pushes her child as she sits on a swing. But the rocking didn’t soothe Jen. No comfort was gained. Her heart felt so heavy she couldn’t understand why she hadn’t already sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

Never in her wildest dreams had Jen thought Abby would cheat on her. How naïve of her to believe her partner would not wander astray. How presumptuous of Jen to assume that their union was solid and unbreakable. How blind of her to not have seen the infidelity before now.

Jen felt something brush against her toe. If it were seaweed, maybe it would wrap itself around her entire body and pull her down to the murky depths of the unknown. Or perhaps it was a jellyfish. It could sting her multiple times in multiple places which would prohibit her from being able to swim back to shore. An encounter with a hungry great white shark would be quick and merciless. Swallow me, Jen silently pleaded.

The water formed ripples around her, but there was no evidence of a shark, jellyfish, or any other threat to her existence. The brush against her toe was imagined, just like her relationship. It was an illusion. My life with Abby was a mere illusion of love, trust, and happiness.

She began a deliberate swim back to the coast. Amie stood waiting for her as she reached the beach.

“Mommy, you went too far out,” the child scolded Jen.

“I’m okay, honey. Come on.” Jen reached for Amie’s hand. They walked to their towels where Abby sat biting her nails.

“Jen …”

Jen walked right past Abby and up the path to the time-share they had planned staying at for the week.

“Look, Mommy. The boys are here.” Amie broke into a run to greet Linda, Bev, and the boys.

“Great,” Jen muttered. Just that quickly she had forgotten this vacation was to be shared with their friends. More than anything right now, Jen just wanted to be alone.

“We made it,” an upbeat Bev said to Jen.

“I see. How was the drive down?” Jen tried to sound enthusiastic upon seeing her longtime friends, but it just wasn’t in her. Her greeting came out dry and indifferent.

Both Linda and Bev raised their eyebrows. “Uh-oh,” Linda said. “Are the two of you in disagreement already? Did Abby check out one too many babes in their bikinis?”

Jen knew Linda was joking, but the joke didn’t sit right with her. “Really, Linda? Is that all you can think about? Other women in bikinis?” Jen brushed past both women into their temporary home.

“Jen, what’s wrong?” A concerned Bev followed Jen inside.

“She cheated!” Jen cried. “Abby cheated on me.” Saying the words made Jen feel like her whole world had shattered around her.

“Oh, Jen. Is that all? It’ll be okay. The two of you will make up in no time. Linda and I always do. Give it a week. You’ll see.”

Jen stared at her friend with complete disdain. Linda was the known adulterer in their group of friends. Bev was weak and always allowed Linda back into their home. Jen was nothing like Bev. Cheating was not an act that she could forgive.

“You know what, Bev? I think it best that we not talk right now.” With that, Jen rushed past her into the bedroom that she and Abby shared and closed the door behind her.

Chapter 11

Knowing that the person she had vowed to love for the rest of her life had committed the act of infidelity wreaked havoc on Jen’s heart and mind. It caused so much disruption to the well-being of her soul that she cut their vacation short. Jen and Abby drove home the day after they had arrived at the beach house. They left Amie with Linda, Bev, and the boys. It was a long, uncomfortable ride home.

Jen imagined Abby’s hands caressing the other woman, learning the contours of her body. She visualized Abby’s tongue tracing hills and valleys that she had no business seeing, let alone tasting. Jen’s heart grew heavy at the imagined sight of the forbidden union – the place where sweat and secretion mixed to create an enticing cocktail for two committed lovers not for others to consume.

Jen’s stomach hurled. Her skin dried. She felt like she had aged overnight – grey hair appeared despite the recent dye job.

“Do you love her?” Jen asked Abby during the ride home.

“No! It was nothing, Jen. I promise.”

Nothing? It was much, much more than nothing. It was their world. It was their love. It was their trust. It was their respect. It was their hope. How could Abby say it was nothing?

“Did you have sex with her?”

Abby looked to Jen, not taking her eyes from the road for too long. She was guilty.

“How many times? How’d you do it?” Jen probed as she wondered if the other woman had the pleasure of feeling Abby’s silkiness next to her own.

“Did you tell her you have herpes?” Jen continued. “Did you tell her that I have the disease because of you? Did you tell her that I sacrificed my own health in order to feel that type of closeness with you?” Jen shouted.

“Jen …”

“What, Abby? What do you want to say? I’m sorry? You can take your sorry and shove it all the way up your herpe-laden ass!”

The rest of the drive was silent. Not a cough, a sneeze, a burp, or a fart could have cut through the silence and agony contained inside their car.

Jen’s blood boiled and rage raced through her veins. The pulsing in her ears felt like a countdown to an explosion. Complete annihilation. Utter destruction. Wipeout.

Jen jumped out of the car as soon as Abby pulled into the garage. She ran to their bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it. She flung herself across the bed and cried. She stayed there, fully dressed, crying, only getting up to use the bathroom, for two complete days.

The telephone rang occasionally. Jen assumed Abby answered it. Jen could sense that Abby stood on the other side of their bedroom door from time to time. She didn’t speak, but Jen knew she was there. Jen could hear Abby’s heart pleading for forgiveness.

After two days of turmoil, Jen decided to shower and emerge from the bedroom. Fully dressed, her face was drawn tight as she went downstairs to the kitchen. Abby was seated at the table. An ashtray full of cigarette butts suggested Abby had ignored the no smoking in the house rule. Jen peered inside the fridge.

“I baked chicken last night.”

Jen ignored her.

“Jen, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I jeopardized our relationship. I will never, ever do it again. Please, please, please forgive me.”

Jen turned from the fridge to Abby. “Are you serious? You want me to forgive you? Pretend this never happened?”

Abby’s hand nervously lit a cigarette.

“You were intimate with someone else. God only knows what the two of you did and how many times you did it. You lied to me. You lied to our daughter. You kept secrets. For crying out loud, Abby, you had an affair!”

Tears streamed down Abby’s face. “I know, Jen. I know. I … didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything.” She inhaled.

“That’s where you are so very, very wrong. Your affair meant everything.” Whatever hunger pangs she had felt quickly disappeared as Jen slammed the refrigerator door shut and ran back up the stairs to the solitude of her bedroom.

Chapter 12

“Jen, wait.” Abby ran after her. “I screwed up. Something tells me I’m going to pay a high price for my mistake. But you need to understand that you and Amie are my world.”

Abby’s admission did nothing to pacify Jen. “What does that mean? We’re your world? Am I supposed to find comfort in that?”

“Yes,” Abby started. “No.”

“Just tell me why you did it, Abby. What steered you to someone else?”

“Honestly, Jen?”

“Honesty doesn’t really mean much right now when you consider how dishonest you’ve been up to this point. But, yes, I want you to be honest as you know how.”

“You made me do it.” The words rushed from Abby’s mouth.

“I beg your pardon,” Jen uttered in disbelief.

“You are a hard person to live with. I’ve been your rock for twenty years. I worked so you didn’t have to. I provided for our family. But all you do, all you’ve ever done, is give me grief.” Abby took a breath.

“You want perfection,” she continued, “but I am not perfect. I enjoy eating bologna – I don’t need steak every week. I like tossing my keys on the dresser – I don’t need a key holder. I’m okay if my clothes don’t go to the cleaners every week. My sheets don’t have to be ironed and the bed doesn’t have to be made every day. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Jen blushed a deep red. “You just accused me of being an overbearing perfectionist.”

“I didn’t accuse you, Jen. You are.”

Jen paced their bedroom. “I have my faults, Abigail Bond, but you knew those before you settled down with me.”

“And you knew mine, yet you’re constantly trying to change me.”

“For the better.”

“According to who?”

“Does it matter Abby? You still cheated.” Jen sat on their bed.

“I know. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do, but afterwards I knew it was utterly and completely wrong.”

“But that didn’t stop you from going back for more.”

Abby dropped to her knees in front of Jen. She clasped Jen’s hands.

“Am I that bad, Abby?” Jen cried.

“No. I’m just that weak.”

The discussion was mentally exhausting for Jen. She withdrew her hands from Abby’s clutches. Tears streamed down her face as she sought a way to find relief from the situation. The only thing she could think to do was to go close her eyes and go to sleep. Abby crawled into the bed beside Jen and tried to hold her, but Jen scooted as close to the edge of the bed as she could. Sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned for over an hour. She gave up on the rest that her mind craved. Instead, her eyes settled on Abby as she slept. Who was this stranger in her bed? Jen recognized all of Abby’s external features. Nothing had changed in that regard. But Jen felt that she no longer knew the person underneath the skin.

Jen was aware that her compulsive behaviors could be overwhelming at times. She struggled with her manic behaviors all the time. She hated that about herself. The neatness. The repetitive steps. Having to have everything just so. And she would be the first to admit that the disorder had gotten worse over the years.

It made sense that if Jen had a hard time dealing with her compulsive behaviors, Abby would have a difficult time, too. But did that justify cheating? What happened to good old-fashioned conversation? Communication was supposed to be the magic key that ensured happy endings.

Jen resisted the temptation to reach out and touch Abby while she slept. She refused to run her fingers through Abby’s spiked hair or to gently tug on Abby’s earlobes – an eroticism shared between just them. Or was it? Someone else had touched Abby intimately. Maybe the other woman had tugged on Abby’s ears. Jen recoiled from the thought. She had no idea how she was ever going to recover from this nightmare.

Chapter 13

When Amie returned home from Florida, Jen had moved most of Abby’s things, along with Abby, to the guest bedroom.

“Why?” Amie asked.

“Sometimes grown-ups just need to sleep apart.” Jen squatted down as she spoke to Amie so they could see each other at eye-level.

Amie considered the need for grown-ups to sleep alone before she answered. “Well, if either one of you hears monsters under your bed, no matter what you do, don’t move. Just be super still and squinch your eyes like this.” Amie demonstrated by closing her eyes to slivers. “When you open your eyes back up, there’ll be a bright light. That’s the monster fairy waving her magic wand to make the bad monsters disappear.”

Jen covered her mouth to give Amie the appearance that the thought of monsters frightened her. In actuality, Jen stifled her laughter. “Thank you. Be sure you share the eye technique with Abby. She might have a lot of bedroom demons and monsters to deal with.”

The summer continued in this fashion. Jen and Abby lived under the same roof, but they did not sleep in the same bed. Jen barely spoke to Abby even though Abby tried desperately to get their relationship back on track.

Their separation caused a rift among their friends as well. Terry and Joyce sided with Jen. Linda sided with Abby and Bev sided with Linda. Jen no longer spoke to Linda and Bev. Abby attempted to keep the lines of communication open with Terry and Joyce, but Terry was deeply saddened by Abby’s infidelity and called her a hypocrite to her face.

Jen sat in Terry and Joyce’s kitchen. “Not that I care, but tell me, why did Terry react so harshly toward Abby? If the indiscretion had been between Linda and Bev, Terry would have shrugged it off.”

“Because Linda was a cheat before Bev committed to her.” Joyce poured them both a cup of coffee. “There’s nothing new or even unusual about Linda’s behavior. She’s consistent. Furthermore, Bev has condoned Linda’s behavior for years.” Joyce added two packets of Splenda to her coffee.

“But Abby? You and Abby are the epitome of lesbian success. You’re as married as married can be. You have a child. A house. Two cars. Yada yada yada. She threw it all away for communication failure and unfamiliar tits. That’s ridiculous.”

Jen thought about what Joyce had said. Yes, she and Abby appeared to have it all, but looks could be deceiving. They obviously didn’t have it all. If they did, they wouldn’t be sleeping apart now.

“How are you holding up, Jen?”

“My insides feel dead.” Jen’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

“What are you going to do? You can’t stay in this emotional realm of despair for too long. It’s not healthy. Are the two of you considering counseling? Or is the relationship over?”

“I keep asking myself that question – if the relationship is over or not. I love Abby, but I don’t trust her anymore. I don’t know if I could make love to her again. Amie would be devastated if we split.” Jen absentmindedly stirred her coffee.

“It’s a tough situation to be in, but you are not the first or the last person whose significant other has had an affair. You just need to decide how to move forward.”

“That’s the problem. Thought versus action. It’s a heck of a lot easier to move forward in your mind than it is in reality. I don’t want to have to explain it to Amie.”

Joyce blew on her coffee. “That’s why Terry and I had dogs instead of children. If we ever get to the point where we need to split, it’ll be a lot easier to explain it to the dogs than it would to a child. Dogs don’t ask questions.”

Chapter 14

“I booked a flight for us to Colorado.” Abby stood against the doorframe of the master bedroom, careful not to set foot in the room.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because we need to get away from here. We need to talk. We need to try to find the magic again.”

“The magic is gone.”

“Cut me some slack, Jen. Please. I’m trying.”

Jen buried her face in her hands. She knew Abby was right. They needed to try. They needed to explore what, if anything, was left between them instead of walking around like two headless zombies. They had to try for Amie.

“What about Amie?” Jen asked.

“I called Terry. I knew you wouldn’t want to leave her with Linda and Bev. Terry gave me an earful. It’s very evident that she is disappointed with the choice I made, but she and Joyce love Amie and they agreed to keep her while we go away. I could hear Joyce in the background saying something about taking Amie back-to-school shopping.”

“I can’t believe it’s that time of year again. This summer is all a blur for me. I wonder how Amie will adjust to her new school.”

“Only time will tell.”

Jen suspected there was more to Abby’s statement than just the reference to Amie and her new school.

“Thanks for asking Terry and Joyce. You made the right call. Linda and Bev are not my favorite people right now.”

“I know, but once we get this all worked out, you’ll have to stop being mad at them. They are who they are and they’ll probably never change.”

“In some respects, you’re probably right. I read a book that said some friends are lifetime friends, some are only there for a season. It’s possible that Linda and Bev’s season has ended for me.” Jen reflected on their twenty-year friendship before asking, “When do we leave for Colorado?”

“Tomorrow.”

The suddenness of the trip created an internal panic for Jen. If she had made the reservations, she would have given herself enough time to clean, wash clothes, and iron before she packed. It was the whole “have everything in order” obsession.

But Jen didn’t make the reservations. Abby did. Abby was an in-the-moment type of person. For her, packing consisted of grabbing a few shirts, a few undergarments, and a pair of jeans. She didn’t coordinate or make sure the clothing she selected matched. She definitely didn’t count the days to make sure she packed an adequate supply of anything. She just threw it all in. Folding be damned.

As for cleaning, Abby would leave the house as-is. If there were dirty dishes in the sink – which there weren’t because Jen would never have a sink full of dirty dishes just sitting there – but if there were, Abby may very well leave the dishes until they returned.

Jen wondered why she hadn’t noticed these traits in Abby when they were younger. Had she really stepped into the relationship thinking she could change Abby? Turn her into the woman she wanted her to be versus accepting the woman that she was?

Abby had smoked when they were dating. Jen could remember thinking how much she disliked the cigarette taste when she and Abby kissed. Vaguely, Jen could recall thinking that she’d convince Abby to quit. But it hadn’t happened. Abby was a diehard puffer. Jen had to learn to adjust because smoking was such a little part of who Abby was. Plus, Jen settled into a routine where she wouldn’t kiss Abby if she’d been smoking. She’d have to brush her teeth and gargle, too, to rid her mouth from as much of the tobacco taste as possible.

But Jen entered the relationship under the assumption that either Abby would stop or she would be able to make Abby stop. Neither happened. If Jen really put some thought to it, she was certain smoking was not the only thing she thought she’d be able to change about Abby. Jen owed Abby this trip as much for the cheating situation as for the ridiculous belief that she could change someone.

“I guess I’d better get my things together.” Jen looked around the bedroom wondering where to begin.

“Just pack your bag. I’ve already packed mine.”

Chapter 15

Vacationing in Colorado was symbolic of happy times for Jen and Abby. It was one of their favorite states to visit. Jen recalled several winter occasions when they’d ventured to Colorado for downhill skiing, hot chocolate crammed with marshmallows – the fat ones, not the miniatures – and cozy evenings by the fireplace in a rustic cabin they’d rent.

This time, they would be in a secluded cabin deep in the mountains. When their plane landed, Jen noted snow-capped mountains. The cabin they were staying at was low enough on the mountain that the air was warm during the day, but very chilly at night. Trails wound up and down the mountain for hiking. Several streams cascaded down the mountainside. The forestry was healthy and dense. Wild animal life was suspected, but not alarmingly evident.

They stopped for groceries at a small general store in the little village situated at the beginning of the road that paralleled the base of the mountain. The store was rife with fishing tackle, hunting supplies, and hiking gear. Food seemed to be secondary. Most of it was canned or dried goods, meaning if you wanted meat, you’d better forge your way into the plush forest and capture it.

“Most people who travel up the mountain tend to survive off the land,” the store clerk said to Abby and Jen. “There’s good fishing and hunting up in them hills. Choice berries, too.” He smiled at the women as he bagged their groceries.

Jen and Abby thanked the clerk and carried three bags of food and a case of water to the jeep Abby had rented from the airport. The road was unpaved and rough. It was narrow, too. Jen wondered what the regulars did when one car was headed up and one car was headed down. Who had the right of way? There weren’t any pull-offs that she could see.

The GPS they had brought from home didn’t work now that they were on the mountain. The clerk told them that the cabin they were staying at was “approximately two miles up the road and two klicks inward.”

Jen wasn’t sure what two clicks inward meant, but the clerk promised them that they wouldn’t miss it and if they did, to drive back down to the store so he could lead them to it.

When the jeep’s odometer rolled over two miles, Jen saw a slight offshoot from the road. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d miss it. She pointed it out to Abby, who steered the vehicle along the somewhat hidden path. No more than a fourth of a mile inward rested a quaint log cabin with a porch that extended the length of the front of the cabin. Chopped and stacked wood sat at the far end of the porch. Jen surmised that the two klicks the clerk at the store had mentioned equaled approximately one-eighth of a mile.

Abby turned the engine off and reached into the back seat for her backpack – the result of her packing her own stuff. Then she got out of the jeep, slung the backpack over her shoulder, and walked to Jen’s side to open the door for her.

Inside, Jen exhaled a sigh of relief. Despite the rustic exterior of the cabin, the inside was quite modern. And clean. Stainless steel appliances and sink. Granite countertops. The bathroom was free of mold and mildew.

Abby walked up behind her. “I wouldn’t take you anywhere where you would feel uncomfortable, Jen.”

Jen chided herself for assuming the worst. Of course Abby wouldn’t take her to a dump. Shame on her for assuming she would. “I know,” Jen said.

“I’ll go get your suitcase and the groceries.”

“Okay.” Jen walked from room to room around the cabin, touching the log walls, wondering how many other couples had come to this place in an attempt to keep their marriage together.

The cabin had one bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen that opened up to a large sitting area with a fireplace. There were two fireplaces. The other was in the bedroom. Though the cabin had electricity, there were no tv’s or radios. Jen suspected internet access out here was highly unlikely. The only sound in the cabin was that of the grandfather clock which ticked beside the fireplace.

Abby set the bags on the countertop. “Do you remember the first time you and I went fishing? In college?”

Jen thought for a moment. “Yes. I was afraid to touch the mealworm things.” Jen scrunched her nose.

“Right. So I did it for you,” Abby recalled. “I scaled the fish and cooked ’em over the fire. Remember?”

“Mmm hmm. It was very good.” The memory was a pleasant one for Jen. It was the first time she had eaten fresh fish straight from the lake. It tasted far better than any store-bought fish.

“Looks like we’re going to eat fresh fish again,” Abby smiled.

“Yeah. I guess it does.” Jen tried to smile back, but it was difficult. On one hand, she wanted to be civil. On the other hand, she was still smoking mad. And, of course, there was the third hand. Assuming she had one, of course. If she had a third hand, it would be the hand where Abby would lay her down and make everything right again.

Chapter 16

The cabin was stocked with board games, books, and magazines. Jen and Abby spent the evening in front of the fireplace, books in one hand, large mugs of hot cocoa in the other. Occasionally, Jen would look up from her book to discover Abby staring at her. Their eyes would lock and speak volumes of silent conversation before Jen would bow her head and attempt to continue reading, but she kept reading the same line over and over. She realized that her attempt to relax and settle down with a book wasn’t really working so she closed the book and stood to go to bed.

“How are we going to do this?” Jen asked.

“Do what?”

“Sleeping arrangements.”

“Jen, I brought you here to make up with you. I’m not sleeping on the couch. I want to sleep with the woman I love beside me, in the same bed.”

Jen nodded her head okay. She retreated to the bedroom. Abby followed soon thereafter, stoked the fire, and got in bed.

Jen immediately felt the heat that radiated from Abby’s body. She wanted to bury herself deep within Abby’s natural fire, but her stubbornness wouldn’t let her. Instead, she tucked the blanket around herself. It didn’t create the same warmth that Abby’s body would have. Jen shivered as she tried to get comfortable under the blanket. She tossed and turned. It wasn’t until Abby untucked the blanket that cocooned her body and replaced it with her own that Jen was able to drift off into a semi-decent sleep.

The next morning, Jen woke to the smell of fresh-brewed coffee. Abby must have woken up early because the bed was cold where she had lain the night before.

“Good morning.” Abby greeted Jen as she entered the kitchen.

“Morning.” Jen yawned.

“Interested in hiking today?”

“Sure.” Jen poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Good. I went down to the store and purchased hiking boots for us.” Abby tipped her head to the front door where two pairs of boots sat.

“Let me drink my coffee and brush my teeth.”

Jen and Abby spent a good portion of the morning hiking through the thick forest. They didn’t talk much. Instead, they respected nature’s silent beauty, occasionally pointing out areas of interest to one another. Around mid-morning, they came across a bear and her two cubs. They backed away slowly. The bear did not give chase. Thank God, Jen’s heart pounded frantically.

Later, they discovered a brilliant emerald-colored lake hidden deep within the mountain. It was surrounded by tall pines and evergreens. The sun reflected off the water, almost blinding them.

“Now this is amazing.” Abby scanned the lake and the land surrounding it.

“It’s beautiful,” Jen concurred.

They walked along the water’s edge until they reached a huge boulder. Abby hoisted Jen up, then herself. They watched the sun reflect off the small ripples in the water.

“Jen, I am so sorry. She didn’t mean anything to me.”

“I just don’t understand why you did it, Abby. You hurt me.” Jen tried to contain her emotions, but she felt the tears swell in her eyes.

“I know. It was thoughtless. Dumb.”

“Do you still communicate with her?” Jen asked.

“I can’t. My phone is at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. Remember?”

Jen suppressed a smile. “You haven’t been to her house? Sent her an e-mail?”

“I don’t know where she lives and I don’t have her e-mail address. We communicated by telephone only, cell phone. Text.”

“How many times?” Jen asked.

“Huh?”

“How many times did you sleep with her?”

Abby closed her eyes as if the small gesture would make Jen forget she had asked the question. It didn’t. “How many times?”

“Six. Seven.”

Tears rushed down Jen’s face.

Abby continued, “She’d text me. We’d meet at the hotel. Sometimes when I was supposed to be at work. Afterwards, I’d feel so guilty. I’d come home and smoke just to make you mad at me.”

“Would you have kept seeing her if I hadn’t discovered the texts?”

Abby shrugged her shoulders and hung her head.

“I’ve given you all of me. We’ve done … things. What made her sex so enticing?”

“It wasn’t so much the act of sex as it was the release of stress.”

Jen wiped at her tears.

“Did you … Did you ever sleep with her and then come home and sleep with me?” Jen held her breath as she waited for Abby’s answer.

“I know it wasn’t right …” Abby began.

“God, Abby!” Jen slid down the boulder they had been sitting on. Leaving Abby behind, Jen stomped blindly through the woods, back to the cabin. Fury streaked through her body. Disappointment dripped from her eyes. And the little bit of hope she had managed to save evaporated into the mountain air.

Chapter 17

The knock on the door startled Jen. “Dinner’s ready, Jen. You have to eat.”

Jen looked around the room. She must have fallen asleep after she hiked back to the cabin. She felt like she was on a roller coaster. All summer she had slowly trudged uphill, around a curve, through a tunnel, and now, without warning, she plunged back downhill again.

She wasn’t sure she could handle the sudden drops or the unexpected twists and turns. She loved roller coasters just as she loved Abby. But the older she got, the less enthusiastic she felt about the stomach-fluttering drops. She’d much rather ride the occasional curve, blast through an unexpected tunnel, and then ride a curve again. It would be like riding a circular coaster and though it may be dizzying, at least you knew where you were going.

As much as Jen hated to admit it, she was hungry. She had no choice but to get up and eat with Abby. Jen opened the door.

“I made fish.”

Jen brushed past Abby and into the kitchen. It was hard to miss the smell of fish in the air. A plate had already been prepared for her. Jen sat and took a bite. It was good. She wanted to tell Abby as much, but every time she looked at Abby, Jen’s stomach dropped like it did when she rode a roller coaster. The only difference was she held in her scream.

“Have some wine,” Abby offered.

Jen hadn’t seen wine in the general store. “Where’d you get wine?”

“I packed my own bag, remember?”

Jen took the glass, gulped it down, and asked for more. Abby obliged. After two full glasses, the heat from the fireplace combined with the alcohol began to affect Jen’s senses.

“You know I hate you, right?” Jen slurred.

“Don’t say that, Jen,” Abby pleaded.

“You’d be the scum between my toes … if I didn’t wash my feet.” Jen giggled as there was no way she would ever not wash her feet.

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“If I were drunk, would I do this?” Jen pulled her shirt over her head and threw it on the couch.

“No, you wouldn’t because you’re mad at me.” Abby went to pick up Jen’s shirt.

Jen started to sob. “I love you, Abby. I love you so much.”

Abby tried to put Jen’s shirt back on her, but Jen grabbed the shirt from her and tossed it aside. She then took Abby’s hands and placed them on her curved, covered breasts.

“I hate you, Abby.” Jen kissed her. The two of them groped and kissed as they made their way to the couch. The fireplace warmed Jen’s back as she straddled Abby. Abby unfastened their jeans. Jen took off her bra and jammed her breast into Abby’s mouth. Abby’s hands tugged Jen’s jeans down enough so that she could cup Jen’s bottom.

“You were willing to give all this up just because you were stressed?” Jen grew angry. She bounced on Abby’s lap allowing the stiffness of Abby’s jeans to arouse her. Abby removed one hand from Jen’s butt to pleasure her from the front. Jen bounced harder. Faster. She arched her back.

“I love you, Jen.”

Jen stopped. Abby’s voice pulled her out of the hazy tunnel the wine had allowed her to linger in, forced her down another jaw-dropping hill, and then abruptly halted, signaling the end of the ride. Love doesn’t cheat. That’s it. No more roller coasters.

Jen blinked. The effect of the wine began to wear away and lose its potency. “We’re done, Abby. It’s over.”

Chapter 18

“What’s over?” Abby leaned back and looked into Jen’s eyes.

“You and I. We’re done.” Jen loosened herself from Abby’s arms and stood. She covered her breasts as best as she could with her left hand and arm while her eyes and right hand searched frantically for her bra or shirt.

“We were about to make love, Jen.” Abby was confused. She couldn’t fully comprehend what Jen was trying to tell her.

“It was the wine. I lost my focus. Your words snapped me back to reality. I’ve decided you don’t deserve to make love to me anymore.” Jen found her shirt and put it on.

“What do you mean when you say I don’t deserve to make love to you anymore?”

“You did this!” Jen’s patience had run out. “You shared the most private part of you with someone else. You no longer deserve to sample mine.” She stood in Abby’s direct line of sight. The glow from the fireplace accentuated Jen’s silhouette, making her look like a strong, fiery superhero.

“And on top of your tacky indiscretion, you tried to blame your lack of judgment on me! Not one time did you communicate with me and tell me how you were feeling.” Jen’s eyebrows gathered near the bridge of her nose.

“If you thought you could wine and dine me, swoon a little, cook a little, and still make love to me, you are one hundred percent incorrect because I no longer desire you, Abigail Bond!”

Abby reeled back as far as the couch would allow. Jen knew the words stung. Good. She wanted Abby to feel all the pain she had endured over the past few months. She wanted to hurt Abby as Abby had hurt her. Jen watched Abby jump up from the couch, grab her cigarettes, and storm out of the cabin.

Jen blindly walked to the bathroom, removed her clothes, and stepped into the shower. She scrubbed Abby’s kisses from her lips. She washed the long, abandoned need from between her legs. Then she watched everything – suds, tears, and need – race toward the silver grate in a circular pattern before descending down the drain.

Jen awoke the next morning to a cold bedroom. The fireplace in the room had not been lit and Abby was not in the bed, but Jen hadn’t expected her to be. She rubbed her hands over her arms in an attempt to take away some of the morning chill. She quickly pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a sweat shirt before she opened the bedroom door. Abby was sitting upright on the couch in the same clothes as the previous day. Her eyes were red and swollen. The kitchen had not been cleaned. The empty bottle of wine now contained numerous cigarette butts and ashes.

“What about Amie?” Abby sniffed.

“Biologically Amie is mine.” Jen almost didn’t recognize her voice. She sounded cold and indifferent.

Abby started to object but Jen interrupted her.

“But you’ve been there from the beginning. We brought her into this world together and I won’t rob her of a relationship with her mom.” Jen thought for a moment. “However, you need to recognize that I am her birth mommy. Not you. There’s no paperwork between us. You, quite frankly, have no rights to her.” She watched as Abby’s shoulders slumped. “We’ll need to figure something out between us. No lawyers. No courts.”

Relief flooded Abby’s face. “The house? The cars?”

“I don’t want them,” Jen said. “I don’t want anything that was intended for our happily-ever-after when in reality we are sadly-never-again.”

Abby scratched her spiked blonde head. “Jen, you don’t really want to do this.”

“Oh, Abby. You’re so right. I don’t want to start all over again. The very thought gives me butterflies. But I need to start fresh.”

“But Bev …”

“Bev is not me, Abby. You knew when we started how I felt about cheating. My views didn’t change just because we have a friend who can’t keep her legs closed.”

Jen felt stronger and more confident than she had in weeks. “We have two days left up here. We can spend the time making a list, dividing everything up. Amie starts at the new school in a couple of weeks. She and I will be out of the house before school starts.”

“Where are you going to go, Jen? Stop being ridiculous.”

Jen wasn’t sure. The moving idea had just entered her head. The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about where she’d go. Her mother’s house? No. Linda and Bev’s? Definitely not. Terry and Joyce? Ugh, the hairy dogs.

“We’re going to stay with Terry and Joyce for a little while until I get on my feet.”

“You can’t be serious. Terry and Joyce? What about He-Man and She-Woman? The dog hair will drive you nuts.”

“Probably, but I think it’s time I tackle my issues head on. It’s time to conquer them. Enough is enough.” The dirty kitchen and lingering cigarette smoke were getting to Jen, but she didn’t want Abby to know it. Projecting indifference to the mess around her, Jen walked to the cabin door, put on the hiking boots Abby had purchased the day before, grabbed her jacket, and stepped outside where the morning air was crisp and clear. Jen didn’t bother to meet Abby’s eyes as she closed the door behind her.

Chapter 19

Jen held Amie’s hand as they walked up the sidewalk to her new school.

“This school is big.” Amie’s innocent eyes grew large and round as she took in her new surroundings.

“Yes, it is.” Jen agreed with her daughter. “Are you afraid?”

“No, but I wish Mom was here.”

“Abby will pick you up when school gets out.”

They walked through the large double doors. A trendy, black woman inadvertently bumped into Jen as she exited the building.

“Excuse me. I’m so sorry.” The lady smiled at Jen.

“It’s alright. It’s back-to-school mania.” Jen returned the smile.

“Don’t I know you?” the woman asked.

Jen bit her lip trying to remember where she might have met the attractive woman. Nothing immediately came to mind. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Mommy …” Amie started.

The woman looked down at Amie and snapped her fingers. “Two Mother’s Day cards. I worked at your daughter’s school” she said, smiling.

Jen recalled the nice secretary at Amie’s old school. The one with the cute shoes. “That’s right. Only Amie doesn’t go there anymore.”

“I don’t blame you one bit. That whole situation was ridiculous. I wanted to fire the teacher myself. Fortunately, after that scathing letter you and your partner wrote to the school board, it was a done deal. They got rid of her quietly and efficiently.” The woman gave Jen an assuring nod. “Is your partner here, too? I think she’ll find this school district to be far more accepting.”

Jen shook her head no. “We’re no longer together.” Her lips folded into a tight smile. It felt odd forming the words that said she and Abby were no longer a couple.

“Been there. Done that. My ex-husband cheated on me. That’s why he’s my ex.”

Jen laughed. “Sounds like we have a lot in common.”

“I know that expression you’re wearing all too well. I lived it. And I survived.” She reached out to grasp Jen’s hand in a friendly shake.

“You’ll be okay. The sun shines again. Maybe not today or even tomorrow, but it will shine. And when it does, you’ll feel stronger and wiser than you ever could have imagined. Call me sometime – at your daughter’s old school. We can do lunch.” The woman waved goodbye and continued out the door.

“Mommy,” Amie said again.

“Yes, honey.”

“Mom’s here.” Amie pointed to Abby who was leaning against a wall. Waiting.

Jen walked over to Abby. “I thought you were picking Amie up from school.”

“I will. I didn’t want to miss her first day at a new school.” Abby said. “Come here, kiddo.” She picked up the girl and gave her a bear hug.

“Who was that?” Abby asked Jen over Amie’s head.

“Who was who?”

“The black woman you were talking to in the doorway.”

“The secretary from Amie’s old school. Why?”

“Are you dating again?”

“No.” Jen rolled her eyes. “Dating is the furthest thing from my mind right now, but I’m not opposed to gaining new friends. She told me the school board fired Amie’s old teacher.”

“They did?”

“Yes.”

“Good. But, uh, why was the secretary lady up here?”

“I have no idea, Abby. Maybe she has a child who attends this school. If you were so curious about her, why didn’t you ask her yourself instead of drilling me?”

“I don’t know. You two seemed kinda chummy. I was just curious.”

Jen was furious at Abby’s line of questioning and way-off-base assumptions, but she didn’t want to make a scene at Amie’s school so she said nothing. You’ve got a lot of freakin’ nerve accusing me of seeing someone when you were the one who caused this break-up.

Abby put Amie down as they all walked to her new classroom. Amie walked between them, holding each of their hands. Amie’s teacher stood at the doorway of the classroom. She smiled and said hello to each student and parent as they entered the room.

“Hi,” Amie said to her new teacher.

“Hello,” the teacher smiled at Amie.

“These are my moms,” Amie stated matter-of-factly.

The teacher smiled at Jen and Abby. Then she said hello. “Why don’t you go inside and find the desk with your name on it?” the teacher said to Amie. “Mom. Mom. You’re both welcome to go inside.”

Jen followed Amie into her new classroom. The class had about fifteen students in total. Jen’s eyes scanned the room, locking on a set of obviously gay male parents to a young boy. Jen felt a sense of relief at seeing the other gay family.

Amie settled in her seat and began talking to the little girl at the desk beside her. The transition to the new school was going to be fine for Amie. No longer feeling apprehensive about her daughter adjusting, Jen kissed her goodbye and left the classroom. Abby followed.

“Jen. Wait up.” Abby quickened her pace so she could walk with her. “How’s it going with Terry and Joyce?”

“We’re making it.” Jen pushed through the doors and put her sunglasses on to shield her eyes from the bright, outdoor light.

“What about the dogs?”

Jen stopped. “I discovered dog hair on the sheets, Abby. Why? Why are you asking?”

“Because I miss you. I want you and Amie to come home.”

Jen lifted her sunglasses. “You don’t get it, Abby, do you? I’m not coming back home.”

“Come on, Jen.” Abby’s voice squeaked. Other parents looked at them as they passed by. “Give me a break already. I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen again. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Zero. You’ve already apologized.”

“Then why won’t you take me back?”

“Because taking you back goes against everything I believe in. And I have absolutely no assurance that you won’t do it again.”

“You’re really going to give twenty years up?”

“No, Abby. You did.” Jen was done with the conversation. She turned to leave.

“Fine. Since you’re not coming back, you need to know I gave up at two, seven, and thirteen years, too.”

Abby’s admission fell on Jen like a longstanding bridge that had slowly begun its deterioration. Crumbled rocks pelted her on the back. Jen was crushed. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t stop walking. She wasn’t going to give Abby the satisfaction of knowing just how hard and fast her world was falling apart. She heard the flick of Abby’s cigarette lighter as she walked away – tall, stoic, and devastated.

Chapter 20

Jen sat in Terry and Joyce’s living room. “I can’t believe she cheated on me more than once. What planet was I living on?” Jen sniffed.

“It’s going to be okay,” Terry assured her.

“How? I haven’t worked in twenty years. I’m a forty-year-old woman with nothing to show for myself. How could I have been so stupid?”

“Don’t beat up on yourself, Jen. Abby fooled all of us.” Joyce rubbed Jen’s back.

“Yes, but I was the one living with her. I’m the one who dedicated my life to her.” Jen stood up. She needed some air. He-Man and She-Woman rose as well. It was as if they knew she didn’t like dogs so they followed her everywhere in an attempt to change her mind.

“I’ll take the dogs out,” Jen volunteered. She felt it was her duty to help out since she was staying house rent-free.

Terry leashed the dogs before Jen embarked on her walk. I need a job. I can’t stay with Terry and Joyce forever. I need to get Amie settled into a new home surrounded by her own things. I need to explain what’s going on to her.

He-Man raised his leg so he could mark a tree. She-Woman sniffed it.

Gross. Jen continued her stroll. He-Man and She-Woman trotted in front of her, pausing every so often to smell their surroundings.

She could go and live with her mother for a while. Gawd. That would be awful. She could hear her mother now: I told you not to get involved with a woman. You should’ve married that nice boy Johnny. He would’ve turned you heterosexual.

She-Woman stopped to poop. Jen turned her head. The smell was nauseating. She felt her stomach clench as she dry-heaved. Seconds later, She-Woman tugged at the leash so Jen assumed she was done. Thank God. They started to walk away when Jen noticed movement on the other side of the street. A lady with a dog glared at Jen. Poor thing. The dog was doing the same thing She-Woman had just done. She doesn’t like the smell either. Then Jen watched in horror as the lady bent and scooped up the dog’s load. That’s why she’s glaring at me? She thinks I’m going to scoop the damn dog poop? Oh, hell no. Jen almost puked just thinking about it.

“Run!” Jen ordered the dogs. He-Man and She-Woman looked at her, heads titled like, “Huh?” Without any hesitation, Jen broke into a run. The thing of it was, Jen felt like she was running from more than just the dog poop. It was everything. She was running from Abby. The disarray in her life. Everything. She was running so she could leave it all behind. She wanted to start over.

Jen and the dogs ran all the way back to Terry and Joyce’s house. Once there, the dogs collapsed in the yard. Jen sat down on the front porch and broke into laughter. Joyce came outside.

“What’s so funny?” Joyce asked while taking the leashes off the dogs. “Why are my dogs looking at you like they have made a vow to never go on a walk with you again?”

“I didn’t scoop the poop.” Jen laughed.

“What?”

“She-Woman … pooped.” She giggled and tried to catch her breath at the same time.

Joyce visibly struggled as she tried to find the tie between Jen’s fit of laughter and dog poop.

“I didn’t have anything to pick it up with. Even if I did I’m not sure I could have.” Jen gasped for air. “There was a lady across the street. She was scooping her own dog’s poop. I could tell she was disgusted. She shot daggers at me with her eyes. We ran all the way back.” Jen doubled over near hysterics.

Joyce and the dogs watched her until the giggle fit passed. “Jen, you may be at your breaking point. It’s okay. Don’t worry. We’re going to get you some help.”

“Yeah, well. Whatever. Right now I’ll settle for hand sanitizer and a beer.”

Chapter 21

After her meltdown at Terry and Joyce’s house, Jen knew it was time for her to move on. She went to her mother’s house.

Jen watched her mother water one of the many philodendrons that blanketed her home. Jen’s love for gardening came from her mother.

“I’m not going to say I told you so or that women aren’t supposed to be with women.” The seventy-year-old woman walked toward another plant.

Even though you just did. Jen watched as her mother wiped up some of the water that had dripped from the watering can.

“But I will say this. Life is like my plants. In their youth, they take on a vibrant green hue and they thirst quite often. As they age, they occasionally yellow. The yellow leaf turns brown, withers, and sooner or later falls off or is picked off. As the plant ages, it seems like it doesn’t need quite as much water, the leaves darken a little, but the vibrant green streaks from its youth tend to remain. Eventually the green of the leaf and the streaks even out and blend together. A few more yellow leaves may develop, but they always fall off. Usually, you can see a little nub where a leaf has fallen off. Mostly, you don’t pay attention to the nubs because there are so many new green leaves to fill the plant out.” Jen’s mother had watered all the plants so she sat down beside Jen.

“Abby was your yellow leaf. You don’t stop watering yourself just because a leaf dries up. Instead, you get yourself some water and some fertilizer and you wait for more green buds to appear.” Jen’s mother set the watering can on the floor next to her chair.

“You can stay here as long as you need to, Jen. I’ll be your water, but you’re going to have to find your own fertilizer.”

Jen realized that by fertilizer, Jen’s mother meant a new girlfriend. “Thanks, Mom.”

“It’s the least I can do. I don’t like seeing you all wilted. Reminds me of those dark days I went through when your father up and left. ’Course that was a man and woman relationship. I don’t know how this works when it’s two women.”

“Mom, please.”

“I never did like Abby very much.”

“I know, Mom, but I never understood why.”

“She had that look about her. You can’t trust people who have that look. Your father had that look, too.”

“Yes. So I’ve been told.”

Jen’s mother stood. “I never took the time to find the right fertilizer after your father left. I don’t recommend you do that.” Jen’s mother shook her head as she reflected on her own obviously painful past. “No. Don’t waste your time overanalyzing the nubs. Take your time to grow as best as you can with water. Then, when you don’t notice the nubs anymore, go ahead and find yourself some fertilizer.” Jen’s mother patted her on the shoulder and left the room.

Jen marveled at her mother’s plant metaphor. In many ways, it took her by surprise. She had expected to hear countless I told you so’s and lecture after lecture about the unnaturalness of homosexual relationships. The support her mother offered, albeit under the guise of philodendrons, water, and fertilizer, was quite the contrary.

Her mother was right. She needed to grow and heal. She needed to allow the nub, as her mother called it, to be covered by new, healthy, lush, growth. The nub she bore – aptly dubbed Abby – was no illusion. Jen would not kid herself into believing her relationship with Abby was fake. Their relationship was very real. It was Abby’s so-called love that wasn’t true.

Twenty years of Abby. It would take some time to get over her. Just as it was going to take some time to work on her own issues.

Jen watched from the window as her mother and Amie watered the vegetable plants that remained in her mother’s garden. Fall was approaching. Amie picked a large, ripe tomato and held it up for her grandmother to see.

Jen’s mother spoke and gave Amie a nod of approval. Amie scrunched her nose as if to say, “Yuck. I’m not eating this with my dinner.”

Jen chuckled. Her mother was an expert gardener. She would take her mother up on the opportunity to be watered – preferably soaked – so she could heal and grow.

Stay tuned for part two of Jen’s journey. Look for Confusion by Sabrina H. Faith.

Also, Sabrina would like to thank friend and fellow writer, Shonda, for her support and encouragement. Pick up a book by Shonda:

Adult Fiction:

She Slipped and Fell

Chrystal Clear

Lick

Young Adult Fiction:

My Soul Fainted Within Me