Bouncing (21 page)

“How long have you known?” she asked.

“Five years.”

“So why tell me now?”

“Your place is cheaper than a hotel, and I can’t sleep under your roof and lie to your face.”

Kim laughed. “I guess I can’t argue with that logic.” She cleared her throat again.

“And maybe it’s just time to talk about it.”

“So, are you…okay?”

Alex nodded. “I’m okay. I’m good. Just a little stiff after the ride.”

“That’s…good.”

They both laughed, and Alex pulled out her wallet and paid the bill. Twenty bucks for a night in Philly was very reasonable. Much more reasonable than the overnight parking fee at the garage closest to Kim’s downtown apartment. From there, though, Alex could walk to the hospital in the morning and have no worries about the time.

When they were both changed into their most comfortable sweatshirts and pants, they reconvened in Kim’s living room. “Are you up for a movie?” Kim asked.

“Sure.”

“Or do you want to talk?”

Alex leaned back into the couch and hugged a big squishy pillow. “Let’s talk. How’s my friend Tam?” It was unsettling to think that the three of them had lived together for nearly three months every summer and then could go weeks without having a significant conversation once Alex became engulfed in the chaos of basketball season.

“She loves me.” Kim sighed and leaned back into the opposite corner of the couch. Both of them had their feet up on the hassock, and Alex gave Kim’s a soft kick.

“I know that, silly. She’s always loved you. But what’s happening now? Who’s moving where? What china pattern have you picked out?”

“Huh? How do you know about this shit?”

“Andrew. I bought them a sugar bowl for their wedding shower. It was the least expensive gift on the bridal registry, and it still cost me fifty bucks.”

“Well, if we register you’ll be the first to know. As far as a move goes…I think we should sleep together first. What if we’re incompatible?”

Alex waved her hand in disgust. “What is it with people not having sex anymore?”

“Who else isn’t having sex?”

As Alex looked at Kim, she realized her error. That she was practicing celibacy on the off chance Brit would someday go out with her was absurd. At times she couldn’t believe it, and at other times she was tempted to call someone up or go out to a bar and find someone for a few hours of fun. Just as fast as the thoughts came to her, though, they left and she was alone with her daydreams of the only woman she’d ever wanted who didn’t share her desire.

“No!” Kim practically screamed. “Not you, too?” She buried her face in her hands and faked a sob. “My hero has fallen.”

“Shut up!”

“Seriously, Alex, you’re not having sex? Why?”

Alex pursed her lips, trying to decide if she should tell Kim her feelings about Brit. She’d never disclose the confidence Brit had shared with her, so how could she explain all of her insecurities without divulging their cause? But this was Kim, and she’d already revealed something much more significant than a crush on Brit.

“Because I met someone.”

“Someone who doesn’t like sex?”

“No, you big jerk. I’m just taking it slowly.”

“Why?” Kim asked, the confusion written all over her face.

“You’re so dense. I like this girl. I don’t want to seduce her. I want to date her.”

Kim leaned back and studied Alex, pursing her lips. “It’s Brit, isn’t it?”

Alex swallowed and nodded. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, I didn’t figure it out until you told me it was someone special, but it makes sense. You’ve been spending most of your time with her.”

“I don’t think she likes me.”

“What? How could she not? You’re tall, gorgeous—don’t make me say any more or I’ll get sick. All the women love you, Alex.”

“She’s different, Kim. I know she’s attracted to me, but I actually think she’s holding my torrid past against me.”

Kim nodded. “I can see that. She’s looking for more than one night, huh?”

Alex smiled. “You know what, Kim? I think I am, too.”

“A lot of other shit goes with a relationship, though. It’s not just having someone around to keep you company. You have to compromise on every aspect of your life.” Kim pointed to the dark-green walls. “The colors you paint your apartment.” She pointed to the couch. “Leather or fabric? Leather’s too cold for some people and fabric gets dirty. What’s for dinner? What movie do you see? What game are you going to watch? Where are you traveling? It’s all compromise. Then there are the problems—not enough money to do everything you want, so how do you choose? What if you don’t like her friends, or she doesn’t like yours?”

“That’s not possible, but I see why it could be a problem.”

“A huge problem.”

“So, is all this compromise giving you second thoughts about Tam?” Alex asked, concerned.

“Absolutely not. I think I’m going to give up teaching and work as a chemist. I have a dual degree. I almost have my master’s. I can move to Maryland and live happily ever after.”

“Even with pastel-colored walls?”

Kim nodded. “Even with.”

“Wow. That’s serious.”

Kim smiled.

“So I should overcome my anxiety and just ask her out, huh?”

“What do you have to lose, other than pride?”

Alex pursed her lips. “There is the matter of this disease, Kim.”

“What about it?” Suddenly fear flashed into Kim’s eyes. “What, Alex?”

“I’ve been well controlled, Kim. But the medication’s really a bitch. It suppresses my immune system, so I’m at risk for infections. And cancer.”

“What kind of infections? What kind of cancer?”

“All kinds of infections, and lymphoma. It doesn’t really seem fair to go into a relationship with someone knowing I’m probably going to die.”

Kim jumped up, the fear on her face evident. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re going to die? I thought you said you were fine?”

“I am now, but who knows what could happen?”

Kim stared at Alex. “So what are we talking about here? Like a one-percent chance of death, or a ninety-percent chance?”

“Single digits.”

Alex could see Kim’s eyes cloud over as she thought about this. “We’re all going to die, Alex. Car accidents, school shootings, cancer. You can’t let this possibility stop you from living your life.”

“It doesn’t seem fair to ask this of someone.”

“Well, this is America and people are free to make their own choices. If she thinks you’re worth it, then it’s her choice. If not, then fuck her.”

Alex laughed. Could it really be so easy? Of course not, because even if Alex decided to go for it and pursue a relationship with Brit, there was the tiny little matter of Brit not wanting anything to do with her.

*

“You are such a sweetheart, Alex,” Diona said as she unwrapped the box of Gertrude Hawk chocolates Alex had given to her. They were her favorite, and unavailable in Philly, so Alex picked up a box from the store near her house before each doctor’s visit.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as she bit into something luscious.

Alex shrugged and sighed. “I stopped my meds.”

“I have a mind to put you over my knee and spank you.”

“I hate it,” she said, trying to control her emotions. “I just want to be normal.”

Diona shook her head. “I understand, Alex. But a war’s going on in your body, and this medication is helping you win it. Think of a bomb going off, of all that destruction. That’s what’s happening to your connective tissue. Little by little, it’s getting destroyed, until one day, your back won’t move. Then there’s nothing you can do. The damage is irreversible.”

Just then, Dr. Prejean walked in. “It sounds like I’m interrupting a serious discussion.”

Alex tried to smile but couldn’t. She listened as Diona told the doctor about her latest concerns.

Dr. Prejean patted Alex’s leg and looked her in the eye. “I can’t guarantee anything, Alex, but this is what I predict. If you take your medication, there is a very small chance you can get sick and die. If you don’t take it, there is a huge chance you’ll live to regret it.”

“Is there a different med I can use? One that’s less dangerous?”

“No. This is working. It’s the right drug. Why change something that works?”

“I guess I don’t have much choice, do I?” The doctor was right. She felt good on the medication, but since she’d stopped, she had a little more stiffness and pain every day.

“I know it’s scary to have this disease. But you’re lucky, too. We can treat this. A hundred years ago…I’m glad I didn’t have to practice medicine then.”

Alex just stared at her.

“The chances of getting sick are very, very, small. You can’t dwell on it, Alex. Take your medication, live your life. Every day is precious, for all of us, whether we have an autoimmune disease or not. You’re never getting today back. Make the most of it.”

“I understand about today. But what about tomorrow? How many tomorrows do I have?”

“How many do I have? None of us knows that, Alex. But you’re not terminal. Stop acting like you are.”

Trick or Treat

Brit followed the commands on her GPS deep into the forest, wondering if she’d made a mistake. This was a long way to drive just to get away from Alex, and she hoped she’d find her way home along these dark, deserted country roads.

But she needed to get away from Alex. She needed a diversion. She was so attracted to Alex, and until the night she’d told Alex she was a virgin, she was fairly certain the feeling was mutual. Alex hadn’t handled that news well, though, and it had been a tough battle for Brit to appear unfazed by Alex’s rebuff. The attraction was still sizzling, which confused her. What was Alex really feeling? What was she really feeling? Until she decided what to do about it, she was trying to keep a little distance. A dozen times in the past weeks Brit had declined Alex’s offers for dinner after practice. Other than that one time, Alex hadn’t questioned her, and each time she graciously accepted the rejection as if it were of no consequence.

And that was another problem. Brit wished it was of consequence for Alex. She wished she saw a question in Alex’s eyes, some bewilderment at the sudden rejections. She longed to see a sag of her shoulder indicating disappointment, or a frown, or a sigh of frustration—anything to show that she cared. But Alex showed no response, and in the last week, she actually seemed happier. She had a bounce in her step and a twinkle in her eye, and Brit wondered if she’d started dating someone. Or at least met someone. Alex’s actions proved that she meant nothing more than a potential fling, just like Anke.

To get away from Alex, she’d decided to attend a Halloween party, where her friend Candace promised a plethora of single women with whom she could mingle. A fellow teacher, Candace and she had met the year before when she was student-teaching. Candace and her partner lived an hour away from Brit, and Brit had never met most of their friends. It was the perfect escape.

Her GPS directed her to the appropriate driveway, and she was thrilled to see a dozen cars already there. She loved a big crowd, had always enjoyed talking to people and hearing stories. After parking, she followed the parade of jack-o’-lanterns to a chalet constructed of logs. Candace and her partner had built the home themselves, and she was eager to see their handiwork.

A sign directed her to the sliding-glass doors around the back, across a fieldstone patio, and a petite brunette named Rose, who introduced herself as Candace’s partner, greeted her at the door. After taking her coat, Rose guided her toward the back of the room, where she saw Candace working behind a well-stocked bar.

Along the way, they passed women shooting darts, shooting pool, shooting hoops, and playing air hockey. Others were seated at a sectional couch, talking, as a huge television played mutely in the background. A musical group Brit didn’t recognize provided the soundtrack to the numerous conversations occurring all around them. Memorabilia from every sport covered the walls. There were jerseys, pennants, framed balls, pictures, and posters, some old, some new. The room was the ultimate girl cave.

Candace came out from behind the bar to hug her and immediately offered introductions to the three women who sat there, drinking beer and mixed drinks and munching goodies from the bowls of snacks on the shiny glass surface. “Nice.” A woman dressed as a police officer complimented her on her Minnie Mouse costume, and Brit blushed the color of her shoes as she saw the woman’s eyes follow her legs from the top of her skirt down to the shiny red pumps. She was tempted to run away, but she didn’t. She’d driven an hour to meet people, and she wasn’t leaving until she did.

After regaining composure sufficient for speech, Brit spent a few minutes critiquing their costumes. The cop looked genuine, and a wicked thought flashed through Brit’s mind as she noted the handcuffs dangling at the woman’s hip. The wicked thought included Alex, and she quickly pushed it away. A hockey player’s costume was complete, from the blackened eye and missing teeth to the skates she was actually wearing. Hopefully the woman could handle her alcohol, but if she lost her balance and fell, the woman in scrubs could offer some first aid.

The group was friendly and welcomed her to their conversation, which at the moment involved a debate over which female vocalist’s voice provided the most stimulating background for a romantic encounter. Candidates for the crown included a few women Britain had never heard, so she didn’t feel she could offer a fair vote, but the group agreed to throw out those few. Adele, Carrie Underwood, Faith Hill, Whitney Houston, Cher, Norah Jones, and Alicia Keys were all in the running. When the late Ms. Houston’s name was suggested, the police officer suggested an entirely new contest for the best
late
artist. The hospital-worker-in-scrubs pulled out a smartphone and began searching for demo songs, which prompted a call for yet a third contest—this one for a specific song to set the mood.

As she laughed and debated with these three very funny women, Brit marveled at the luxury of feeling so relaxed in a social setting. She fit right in, no longer the round peg in the square hole. Just as she was congratulating herself on her decision to make the long drive to the party, Britain looked up and gasped.