A Benign Something

"Yeah," I mumbled. "I know... I know what you mean."

"You need to think about it, ok? Don't just make a spur-of-the-moment decision. People are gonna treat you different. They're not going to understand. Some of them might never understand, especially because they've already known you for so long. Your family, your friends and neighbors, the people you work with... Jess, it's not like you're going out in public wearing a new pair of shoes. That doesn't tell anyone what kind of person you are. But coming out as a lesbian? Yeah, right or wrong, I'm sorry to say, that sorta does. People will make character judgments of you based on it. You've already been through one traumatic experience. What you need to do is think about whether you really wanna do it again."

Gayle's motherly tone was soothing, but her words hit home in an unnerving way. I hadn't thought about how being with her would change my life in ways other than fulfilling an emotional void. I began thinking about all the people I knew, the people I worked with, the students, my husband's friends, the neighbors, everyone who knew me. My mind began trying process how each individual would react. And Gayle was right. In some of these, I could predict how they would react to me being with her, negatively or positively. For some, I didn't care, but others I did. I was still very close to my husband's family, his mom and dad and sister. And then there were my parents and brothers. One of the reasons I wasn't dating was that I feared how all of these people might react to there being a new face in the family, a virtual stranger ostensibly taking the place of my husband. There was the awkwardness of getting to know someone all over again, and then holding my breath, hoping they'd silently approve. I don't think any of them really expected me to remain a devoted widow for the remainder of my life, but there was the feeling that in dating someone new, I was giving to this person something that everyone else knew rightfully belonged to the man I first fell in love with. But making this situation with Gayle even more complicated was the simple fact of her gender. It would be difficult enough for me to introduce a new person into my family, but to then openly admit to being in a lesbian relationship could only exacerbate my fears and their potentially disastrous reaction.

What started out as something so simple, seemingly so benign, was quickly becoming increasingly complicated and convoluted.

"I want you to think about it for a while," whispered Gayle, leaning closer to me.

I sniffled and nodded. "I will," I replied.

She brought her arm around me and helped me stand, leading me out to the living room. While she walked over to the closet to retrieve my coat, I stood by the door with my arms folded, blinking back my tears. Gayle helped me put on my coat, and then zipped it up, tugging at the collar with a smile.

"Think about it for a few days," she said, resting her hands on my shoulders. "Last night was beautiful. And you're a beautiful person. I'd love to be with you, but I want you to think about it, all right? Don't make a hasty decision."

I took a deep breath and nodded. "I will," I replied.

Gayle went to speak, but I quickly asked when I could see her again. She slowly shook her head. "Not for a while," she said.

"A day or two?" I asked.

She shook her head again. "No," she whispered. "Longer than that."

"How long?" I whimpered, my eyes filling with tears.

"When you're thinking clearly," she replied. "Whatever decision you make, I'll accept. But you know where I stand. I wanna be in a relationship with you, but I'm not gonna hide it, if I am, ok?"

"Ok," I softly cried, as she wiped away my tears.

Then Gayle pulled me into her arms, hugging me tightly and kissing my head, as I cried against her chest.

"I love you so much," she whispered.

We continued to embrace for a minute or so, and then she reluctantly pushed me away. She wiped her eyes and smiled and reached for the door, pulling it open for me. Slowly, I trudged through and paused in the hallway, turning to look at her. Gayle started to close the door and gave me a timid wave.

"Bye," she said, as tears streaked down her face.

I slowly raised my hand, crying, and mumbled goodbye. Then the door closed. My eyes clamped shut and I began weeping. On the other side of the door, I could hear Gayle cough and cry.

On the drive home, I had to pull over twice, because the tears were blinding me. I'd sit and bawl, banging my head on the steering wheel, cursing the lot fate had handed me yet again.

"It just can't be simple," I exclaimed, pounding my fist on my thigh. "Why?!"

When I finally arrived home, I went straight to my room. Rachel walked out of the kitchen, when she heard me come in, but whatever she may have said to me was ignored. I closed the door and jerked my coat off, flinging it across the room. Then I sat on the bed and buried my face in my hands, working my way into another tearful fit.

For the rest of the afternoon, I hid in my room alone with my thoughts. At one point, there was a soft knock on the door, but I told her to go away. I was sitting on the bed with my legs crossed, leaning my head onto my hand and picking at the fabric of the blanket below me. Then I closed my eyes with a long sigh and crawled off the bed, walking over to the door. I opened it and poked my head out just in time to see my daughter going back downstairs. I quickly wiped my eyes and brushed the hair from my face.

"Hey," I called.

She stopped and turned.

"Sorry," I said.

Rachel only shrugged. "You ok?" she muttered.

My mouth drew into a deep frown and my face twisted, as I started crying again.

"No," I bawled and slumped back against the door.

Rachel bounded up the steps and over to me, putting her arms around me, and leading me into the bedroom. She sat next to me on the bed, hugging me closely.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

And so I told her everything. Everything that had been going through my mind, since I'd first met Gayle in the park. I told Rachel everything that had transpired between us, the touching, the smiles, the little gestures laden with innuendo. And I told her that I was in love with Gayle. I explained how the reality of that relationship was starting to sink in and how scared I was of how others might react to it. She sat and held my hand, listening intently and nodding now and then. And, when I finally got it all out, told her everything that was in my heart, my fears and joys, Rachel smiled and squeezed my hand in hers.

"Not easy, is it?" she chuckled.

I smirked and looked away, shaking my head. "No," I replied. "Not at all."

"Wish I knew what to tell ya," she sighed, rubbing her hand on mine.

I wiped my nose and turned to Rachel, asking if she loved Kate. She chuckled again and fell back onto the mattress, propping herself up on her elbows.

"I dunno," she replied. "I like her and all, but I dunno if I'd say I love her."

We talked for a while longer, but finally forced ourselves to walk downstairs. By now, it was early evening, so we fixed a quick dinner, sitting together at the kitchen table and talking quietly.

Being a Saturday night, Rachel, of course, had plans with Kate. After helping with the dishes, she grabbed her coat and headed out the door, saying she would probably spend the night at her girlfriend's apartment. But, just as she was about to leave, she stopped and turned to me, as I sat on the couch.

"If you wanna talk," she said.

I smiled and nodded. "Ok," I replied.

"Just call me or something, all right? I'll come home."

"Thanks," I said.

When I heard her car pull out of the driveway, I walked over to the television and turned it off. I made my way upstairs to my room, shut the door, and undressed.

Standing at my dresser, I opened the top drawer and pulled out my pajamas. As I buttoned my shirt, my eyes drifted to the pictures of my husband sitting atop the dresser. I smiled warmly, and in that instant, thought about ending my life. Not seriously, however, but it did seem as though it might bring an end to a lot of the problems I'd been facing since his death. But, no, I couldn't do that. That, I knew, was just plain selfish and stupid.

I brushed my teeth, walked downstairs to turn off the lights, and then returned to my room. Just as I was about to get into bed, I paused and kneeled down, pulling out a flat plastic tub from under the bed containing our family photo albums. I thumbed through them all, sometimes smiling, laughing a couple of times, wishing I could go back and relive all of those frozen memories. I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. It was a few minutes to nine. I carefully replaced all the albums, and then pushed the tub back to its place under the bed and rose to my feet. Standing there for a moment, I stared at the bed, and then turned to walk downstairs.

Down in the kitchen, I flipped on the light over the stove and stepped over to the phone. I picked up the receiver, dialed, and waited for someone to pick up the other end.

I hooked my hair over my ear and walked over to a chair at the table to sit.

"Mom? Hey, it's me."

For the next hour and a half, I talked to my mom, and then my dad, telling them all about Gayle and what had been going on in my life.

Our conversation went much better than I had expected. They were surprised, to say the least, but overwhelmingly understanding. But, as I did with my own daughter and Gayle had done with me, they kept asking if I was sure about this. I assured them I was, and they pledged to support me.

That night, it took a long time before I fell asleep. I kept thinking of Gayle, wondering what she was doing. I wanted to call her so very badly. Just a few seconds of her soft voice was all I wanted, but she asked me to wait. That's fine, I thought. I'll do just that. And, in the meantime, I'll make a few more phone calls.

The following afternoon, I called my husband's parents and had virtually the same conversation with them. As with my parents, they were rather shocked at first, but soon warmed up to the idea and said they only wanted Rachel and I to be happy. I wouldn't say they were entirely thrilled, but they were agreeable. And I could understand how they felt. It was the same thing I'd initially felt with my daughter. You think you know somebody, and then one day they surprise you. And, also like myself, they'd simply have to adjust to the idea of me being in a relationship with another woman. It wasn't their decision, after all, and I wasn't asking their permission. I was merely informing them.

That attitude set the tone for the conversations I had with others over the next several days. I called a few of my husband's closer friends to let them know, not that I thought it was really any of their business, but it at least felt good to come clean about it, as opposed to trying to hide it from them or hope the rumors they'd eventually hear weren't overly exaggerated. What I wanted to do was set the record straight from the get go and not have to fret over whether someone I knew saw me holding Gayle's hand in public.

At school, I told Diane, and she was immensely happy for me, which came as no great surprise. She'd always been very supportive. And I also told Gloria, the lady I sometimes shared hall-monitoring duties with. The only reason I told her was because she was somewhat of a gossip hound at school. Not that she spread rumors, but if she heard them and knew the truth of the matter, she was quick to set things straight. Gloria might have a tough exterior, but she was an honest and trustworthy person. And her reaction, when I explained it to her, was bland nonchalance. She merely looked up from reading her book, licked a finger and turned the page, saying, "Well, Jess, as long as you're happy, that's what counts."

"Thanks," I replied with a broad grin.

Gloria only held up a hand and waved me off, though I could see a smile on her face.

By Friday, I'd informed everyone I thought necessary. Those that had the news would very likely, slowly and over time, tell others within my circle of friends and family, thus saving me a lot of phone calls and emotional angst. I only told those whom I knew I could trust with being honest and factual in relating what was going on and why.

Earlier in the week, it took all the will power I could muster not to communicate with Gayle, whether through email or phone. But the time did seem to pass smoothly with each day and each new person I talked with. It wasn't until I was in bed at night that I had time to think about her. During the day, I was preparing my speech, rehearsing and making last minute adjustments to what I wanted to tell the next person on my list, fine-tuning the dialogue I had used with others and making slight modifications to fit the person next in line. So by the time Friday evening rolled around, everyone that needed to know knew that I was now a lesbian.

While standing in the kitchen preparing dinner, Rachel came down from her room.

"Need any help?" she chirped, plucking a slice of cucumber from the bowl in front of me and popping it in her mouth.

"Nah," I replied. "Almost done."

She twirled around and stepped over to the cupboard and pulled out a glass.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "Forgot to tell ya."

I was walking to the kitchen table with the bowl between my hands, when I glanced over at her by the refrigerator. She pulled out a carton of orange juice and came over to stand next to me, as she filled her glass.

"Ok, and...?"

Rachel glanced at me, saying, "Oh! Anyway, yeah, your girlfriend called, while you were at the store."

My heart skipped a beat and started throbbing in my chest and up into my throat. With trembling hands, I set the bowl down and turned back to the sink.

"What'd she want?" I asked, trying to mask the anxiety in my voice.

"You, I assume," came the terse reply.

I stood at the sink, holding a towel between my hands, and closed my eyes, trying to breath calmly.

"What'd she say?"

"Just wanted to know if you were home. I told her you went to the store, and she asked which one, and I said how the hell should I know."

I smiled nervously and slowly shook my head, turning to her. Rachel was leaning against the table, holding the glass in her hand and picking at the contents of the bowl I'd set there.

"How'd she sound?" I asked.

Rachel tossed a carrot slice into her mouth and nodded.

"Good," she mumbled, as she chewed.

I sighed. Getting information out of this kid was sometimes like pulling teeth. I was about to start my usual line of questioning, when she spoke.

"I think she misses you," she said, pulling out a chair to sit.

I gulped. "Yeah?" I replied.

"Uh huh. Said she hasn't heard from ya in a couple days and was wondering if you were still alive. I said yeah, you haven't hung yourself yet."

My shoulders slumped, and I groaned. Rachel chuckled and glanced over at me.

"I didn't really say that," she giggled.

I stepped over to her, wringing the towel in my hands, and asked how she seemed. Rachel shrugged.

"I think you should call her," she replied. "Maybe go see her or something... I dunno. None of my business. I just think..."

But I was already running out to the living room. I grabbed my jacket and keys and shot out the door. I was still trying to put one more arm into my coat, as I threw the car in reverse, zipped out the driveway, and then screeched down the street.

For the next ten minutes, my heart pounded rapidly and sweat rolled down my face. It seemed like everyone was conspiring against me, as I'd get stuck behind someone going too slow or hit every light just as it turned red. I mumbled and cursed under my breath, squeezing the steering wheel tightly between my fingers. And, when the light would finally change green or the slow poke in front of me turned from my path, I jammed my foot down onto the gas pedal.

The drive to her condo never seemed to take so long, but, when I finally arrived, I jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn to the door of her building. I flung it open and jumped inside, dashing up the steps with a clamor, tripping, cursing again, and lunged through the next door. By the time I got to her condo, I was breathing as if I'd just completed a marathon. I propped a hand against the wall, as I tried to catch my breath, my upper body heaving up and down. Then suddenly her door opened.

Gayle must have heard all the commotion in the hallway, as I came into the building. She nearly jumped, when she saw me, and I grinned wide in reply. She was wearing a robe and holding a tissue to her nose. Then she clasped a hand to the front of the robe, poked her head out the door, looking up and down the hall, and then grabbed me by the shoulder and jerked me inside.

I was still breathing hard, my heart still flailing away in my chest, but I was nothing but all smiles. I walked over to the sofa and flopped down, while Gayle stood by the door with an expression of surprise on her face. Then she wiped the tissue under her nose and carefully stepped over to a chair and sat down across from me.

My eyes roamed lazily around the room, and, when they landed on her, I gave her a toothy smile.

"Hey," I said whimsically, giving her a short wave.

Gayle snickered and wiped her nose again. "Hey back," she replied, still maintaining a look of bewilderment. Then she cleared her throat.

"So, what..."

"I told everyone," I exclaimed.

Gayle blinked.

"Pardon? Who's..."

"Everyone," I replied with a big nod. "I told everyone I knew that I loved you. Well, not every single person. Just the people closest and they'll probably tell everyone else."

She chuckled, her eyebrows rising high, as she coughed and grinned wide, swiping the tissue under her nose.

"Gotta cold?" I asked.

Gayle nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Got it a few days ago."

There was a long silence between us, and then she finally rose from the chair, pushing her hands in her pockets.

"Want something to drink?" she asked, gesturing to the kitchen.

I wagged my head from side to side and stood from the couch. As I stepped toward her, she held a hand up and backed away.

"Don't want you to get it," she whispered.

I grinned and stepped up to her, taking her hands in mine.

"I don't care," I replied. Then I pushed myself up onto my toes and gently pressed my lips to hers. And, when our tongues met, we slowly wrapped our arms around each other, moaning and kissing deeply.

"God, I've missed you," she sighed, as she lavished my neck with her tongue.

I closed my eyes and held my head back, working the belt to her robe until I had it loosened, and then slipped my hands inside, pushing it down her shoulders. Her hand landed on my breast and squeezed.

"Tell me," I gasped. "Tell me you love me."

Gayle ran her tongue up my neck until our mouths brushed against each other. Her hands traced lightly up to either side of my face, holding it, as she planted soft kisses on my lips.

"I do," she sighed. "I've missed so much, Jessie. Just tell me you're sure about this."

I nodded, flicking my tongue against hers and running my hands along the small cones of her exposed breasts.

"I am."

Then we began kissing frantically, as she fumbled with the buttons on my blouse, and my hands went to my waist where I jerked open the buttons of my jeans and pushed them down. I kicked off my shoes, and in a matter of seconds, was standing naked in her arms.

We kissed and moaned and touched each other, melting to the floor in a heap of searing flesh and desire. Mouths and tongues and fingers explored our bodies, penetrating deep within and eliciting heavy guttural groans and airy cries of passion. And, though there was a physical lust, a basic craving we had for one another, we spent a long time doing nothing more than lying on the floor in each other's arms, kissing and whispering the love we felt.