Salt & Vinegar Ch. 11

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LENA

"I got 'Mommed' today", said Jus.

"What?"

"Ericka called me 'Mom'. First time ever, I think."

"What did you do? Give her a fucking serve about cleaning her room again?"

"Hah! No, we had a D&M about relationships - this boy she likes in her class."

"Ah, what's his name ... Tanaka?"

"Yep. I gather the feelings may be mutual but they're trying to feel each other out."

"As long as he's not trying to feel her up", I muttered with a grim expression.

"This? From you?"

"Yeah, but this is her. He'd better not fucking try anything funny."

"What, you want them to just hold hands and gaze into each other's eyes? Maybe recite some sonnets?"

"Fuck you. You know what I mean."

"Well, yes, but I'm surprised. Sounds more than a bit hypocritical, babe."

I saw the confusion in Jus's face, but I wasn't going to elaborate. I was keenly aware of the double standard, but I didn't want to explain why, so I changed the subject.

"Doing anything important next Friday? Reckon you could get the day off?"

"Hmm, think I could negotiate it, why?"

"Got a meeting with a potential client. Thought you might want to come along."

"Oh?"

"Musician. Cover art for a future album release. Seem to recall a poster on your bedroom wall ..."

"No shit! For real?"

"Yep. Wanna come?"

"Yes ... but no. I'd love to, but it's not going to be a good look if you have a drooling fan girl tagging along. Besides, you'll get huffy if I start crawling all over him. Then goodbye job."

"I wouldn't", I said, knowing that she was probably right.

She gave me a smile.

"Oh, yes you would. And I love you for it."

She leaned over and gave me a kiss.

"But thanks for the offer, babe. Just tell me how it goes, OK?"

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JUSTINE

I heard the apartment door open and close. Ericka bounced into the kitchen as I was preparing dinner. She was positively glowing.

"Good day, honey?"

"Kenzo and I are official!"

"Congratulations, I think. Who's Kenzo?"

"Oh. Tanaka. That's his family name. Kenzo is his first name. I asked if I could call him by his first name and he said 'yes'. It's a Japanese thing. He calls me Ericka-chan." A little giggle.

"Ah, I see. Well, omedetō gozaimasu then."

Her eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, you speak Japanese!?"

"Only a little. Comes from dealing with Japanese software development and tech companies for so many years."

"No way! That's awesome, because ... well, I was going to ask ... do you think ... I mean, could we invite him over for dinner? Please?"

"Sure, no problems. When were you thinking?"

"Oh. I don't know. Lemme ask."

She disappeared in a flash, cell in hand, already texting. She returned a couple of minutes later.

"He says anytime you like is cool with him."

"He said it like that?" I quizzed her.

"Um, no. He said something longer and much more polite, but that was the gist of it", she grinned.

"Seems like a very well-mannered young man."

"Yeah, he is. A bit stuffy and conscientious sometimes. But I sorta like that about him too."

"What about Friday night this week after school? I've got an early finish." I checked the family calendar on my phone. "Looks like Lena's free too."

"Great, I'll tell him."

"Where does he live? Does he need a lift home after?"

"Nah. He lives near Japantown. I walk there with him after school on the way home. He'll probably walk back too so long as it's not too late."

She'd been late-ish home from school a few afternoons recently. I guess the detour explained it. I also wondered what they might have been up to at his place.

"He lives with his parents and his grandma. His Mom and Dad both work, but Grannie Tanaka is always home. She's really nice. His little sister is cute too."

Clever girl. Reassuring me that she's not alone when visiting.

"You met his parents?"

"His Mom, once. Dad, no."

"And do the parents of this well-mannered young man approve of this relationship?"

"Hey, it's not like we're getting married or anything!" she said, shocked.

"I know, but sometimes ... families", I tried to choose my words carefully, "have certain expectations - and prohibitions - around relationships, particularly cross-cultural ones."

"Oh, I see. I know what you're getting at. You may be right. But his Mom seemed cool with it though."

"That must be because you're a very pretty girl with equally pretty manners", I said, fondly.

Ericka mimed putting her finger down her throat, then grinned.

"I'm always well-behaved." And she gave me a wink which could have suggested otherwise.

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JUSTINE

I was stirring the chili when I heard a polite knock on the apartment door. Ericka shot out of the kitchen. I followed at a slower pace, wiping my hands on a towel. Ericka set her shoulders and opened the door.

"Hey, Kenzo."

"Hello, Ericka-chan." He had a nice smile. He also had a nice bouquet of flowers and a gift bag. The kid was putting on the works.

"Kenzo, this is my Mom, Justine McIntyre. Justine, this is Tanaka-san."

He looked a little non-plussed, but responded with a very formal, "Very pleased to meet you Mrs McIntyre and thank you for having me".

"Irasshaimase. Hajimemashite, Tanaka-san." I bowed politely.

He smiled and bowed in return. "Your Japanese is very good, Mrs McIntyre. Have you lived in Japan?"

"No, but I have visited a couple of times and had the pleasure of working with Japanese people over the years. I'm not fluent, so please forgive any errors in pronunciation. Please come in and make yourself at home. Our apartment is small, but we find it comfortable. Ericka can show you around."

"Arigatou gozaimasu. And these are for you", he handed me the flowers, "and a small contribution for the meal in appreciation."

"Oh, Tanaka-san, you didn't have to do that! But thank you, they're lovely."

I took the flowers and the gift bag (it looked like dessert) into the kitchen.

One of the benefits - and drawbacks - of a small apartment is that you can hear everything. As I continued cooking, I could hear a whispered conversation from the living area.

"Ericka, I thought Lena was your Mom. Has your Dad remarried or something?"

"What, no! Justine's my Mom too. She's married to Lena. I don't have a Dad. Well, I did, of course, but my real parents died in an accident years ago. Lena and Justine adopted me."

Typical Ericka. I loved that she felt so comfortable with us that it didn't occur to her that other people might find our family arrangement unusual. She obviously hadn't told Tanaka.

"Oh, I see."

"Is that OK? Sorry, I didn't tell you."

"No, it's fine. No problems. Just unexpected, that's all."

Lena arrived shortly after and the dinner went smoothly. We'd opted for Tex-Mex, figuring we shouldn't attempt Japanese. Besides, he'd eat that all the time anyway. And Tex-Mex was what we often ate so he'd be getting the McIntyre dining experience.

Tanaka was polite and comfortably conversed with all of us. Intelligent and thoughtful. I liked him and it was obvious that he and Ericka liked each other. I glanced at Lena when it was apparent that they were trying-not-to-be-obvious about holding hands under the table. Very cute. Lena winked at me when they weren't watching her.

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LENA

We all went back to the table after Tanaka left and sat picking at the remains of dinner.

"That went alright, I thought. OK, Ericka?", said Justine.

Big smile.

"Yeah, thanks you guys. It was great."

"You really like him, huh?" I said.

"Yeah, I really do."

Eyes down. Bit hard to tell with her dark skin colour, but I reckon she was blushing furiously.

Silence for a bit, then ...

"Um, so about ... how do you guys feel about ... er, sex."

Fuck, that escalated quickly!

Justine laughed. "I take it you're not asking about how Lena and I feel about it with each other. Pretty sure you know that already."

Pretty hard for her not to. Then Jus got serious.

"Ericka, you know that the age of consent in California is 18, right? And there actually isn't a legal exemption for minors. So, technically, it's illegal for you to have sex with anyone until you're 18. Now I know that doesn't stop a lot of - OK, practically all - young people having sex, but I just need to remind you, OK?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm just ... well, I wanted to think about it ... before-hand, you know?"

"He hasn't been fucking pressuring you, has he?" I said.

"What? No!" And then a muttered, "Actually wish he'd be a bit more ... sometimes ..."

Justine grinned at me. "A bit more like Lena?"

"No, not that much!" she exclaimed, shocked.

I scowled.

Jus got up and walked behind my chair, putting her arms around me.

"Luvs ya, babe", she said fondly.

I leant back into her embrace. "Love you too, Jus."

"See, that. That's what I mean. You guys have this easy intimacy with each other that ... I dunno, is it practice?"

Justine choked.

"Yeah", I said with a big smirk, "lots of practice."

Justine swatted me.

"That's got nothing to do with it. OK, yes, we do ... err, practice ... but it's how we feel about each other, not the sex that matters."

"Pretty sure it's the fucking sex", I muttered. Justine swatted me again.

"Not helping, Lena. Don't listen to her, honey. She'd say the same thing if she was being honest with herself" - I felt her 'look' even though I couldn't see it - "more sex doesn't mean more love; and more love doesn't always mean more sex either. In fact, they can be mutually exclusive."

"Like hell they can!"

"Shut it, you."

I stopped and thought about it. I was just reacting to my own feelings for Jus. I loved her so much I couldn't imagine not having sex with her. Having sex with her was my expression of love for her. How I showed her how I felt. How I showed her what she meant to me. But if I was being honest with myself ...

I'd had a lot of sex with people I didn't love and who didn't love me. And having sex didn't really change the depth of the relationship. If anything, it made it more complex. Often for the worse. For me, it rarely - if ever - had resulted in meaningful growth in a bond that hadn't been there to begin with. 'Fuck 'em and forget 'em' had been my motto up until Justine. 'And even for a while afterwards', snarked my errant conscience.

Ericka watched me like she knew what I was thinking. Uncanny girl. Bit like Jus. Fuck their judgement.

Why was I getting riled up? Would it have made any difference if I'd had this chat with my Mom? As if that would have happened with that drug-addled bitch. And I wasn't going to think too much about my childhood, because it didn't matter. I didn't care. I was here and this was now. That was the past and ...

"Fuck this shit, I'm going to bed."

I stood up suddenly, startling Jus, turned and fled to the bedroom.

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JUSTINE

Ericka and I looked at each other.

Neither of us was sure what had just happened. I'd touched a nerve, but I wasn't sure what or how. One minute we'd been joking around, the next Lena had flared up and stormed off.

I reflected on the conversation and nothing sprung to mind. I'd been trying to make the distinction between the emotional and the physical aspects of sexual intercourse. Lena had chimed in with comments consistent with her tremendous appetite, but that'd been it.

I'd told her to shut up, but the back-and-forth had been good natured. She'd gone quiet and then just exploded.

"Was it something I said, maybe?" asked Ericka.

"I don't think so, honey. I'm not sure it was something I said either."

"She looked ... scared, just now."

"I couldn't see her face. She went past me too quick. I'd better go see what's up."

"Um, could I go, please?"

"Oh?"

"Got a feeling - just a feeling - I know what ... no. Just a feeling, sorry. If I'm right, I'll bring her out, OK?"

"You sure, love?" I asked, uncertainly. Ericka had very good intuition, but I wasn't sure this was something she could handle. But then, she was mature for her age and if she thought she could, then I should let her.

"Not at all, but I think I should try."

"OK, want me to check in on you both in a couple of minutes?"

"Nah, I'm good. If I'm straight back out I've stuffed it. If we're longer it means we're talking and it's fine. I'll call if I need you."

"Alright then."

I watched Ericka walk slowly and thoughtfully toward our bedroom.

I sighed. I was concerned for Lena, proud of Ericka and, well, feeling just a little redundant.

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LENA

I sat on the bed in the dark, listening to the demons scratching at the doors in my mind. It had caught me by surprise. I'd ignored those doors for years. Thought them secure. And then a conversation with an innocent fucking fifteen-year-old and I found myself facing them again.

Fifteen. Fuck. What I wouldn't have given to be as innocent as her at that age ...

A scratching at the bedroom door.

"Lena, it's me. I'm coming in, OK?"

It wasn't really a question. The door opened without waiting for an answer. The too-bright light from the passageway framed Ericka.

"Oh, fuck. Not you."

Shit, I can be a rude bitch. Part of me was appalled. Another part didn't fucking care.

Ericka seemed not to care either. She mostly closed the door leaving only a crack of light and then padded across the room. She eased herself on to the bed next to me and slowly and carefully put an arm around me.

"It's OK, Mom."

That just about fucking broke me. I'd expect this from Jus. But from Ericka, the irony was almost too much to bear. 'Mom' she'd called me, when I was the one sulking in the dark and she comforting me. Damn, I'm a fucking mess. A useless excuse for an adult. Shit, I hate myself sometimes.

I couldn't say anything. A word and tears would start tracking down my cheek. I would not cry in front of her. I would not.

She sat with me in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

No, I do not want to fucking talk about it!

"I can't, Ericka."

"Was it bad?"

The fuck? You think you know what you're even asking about!? A flash of rage almost overcame my better judgement. Almost. 'Better judgement'. Hah!

"Does Mom know?"

The other mom. Justine. The real mom.

"No."

"I think you should talk with her about it."

"You don't even know what 'it' is."

"It's OK to be afraid. But you know Justine loves you more than anything."

Shit, this girl! She is not supposed to be able to read me like this. No one is supposed to be able to read me like this. I am not afraid. I'm not!

I'm fucking terrified.

"Don't think, just come. Trust her. She loves you very much."

She took my hand and pulled me out into the light.

----------

JUSTINE

The role juxtaposition jarred. The teenager caring, calm and controlled. The adult ...

Poor Lena was a mess. Face pale, eyes skittering wildly. I could see she was trembling. Something was very, very wrong. I still didn't know what it was or what the trigger had been.

Ericka led her to the couch and sat her down next to me. She gave her a little hug and then in a too-obvious voice, said, "Well, I'm going to my room to listen to some music. Loudly. With my earbuds." And she was gone, the sound of her door closing quietly.

Lena and I looked at each other. Well, I looked at Lena and Lena looked at the couch. She wouldn't meet my eyes. I reached for her but she pulled away from me. Oh, honey.

"What is it, babe? It's OK, you can tell me."

"Can't, Jus."

"Love you. You can tell me anything. You know this."

"Really ... can't."

And she looked up at me. There was a deep horror in her eyes, a combined terror and self-loathing I had never, ever before witnessed in her. Anxiety, uncertainty, vulnerability; yes, I'd seen those although rarely. This, never. This was something else and I was still none the wiser about where it had come from.

"Can you tell me at least what brought this on? I'm really concerned for you, love."

Silence. I could see her struggling within herself.

"Ericka. Talking about ... thinking about ... sex. For her first time."

"You were worried for her?"

"Yes. I mean, no. Not as such."

Oh. I think I get this now. Shit.

"It brought up a memory for you. Your first time? Not great I take it?"

Fist clenched. Knuckles white.

"It was not", she whispered.

She seemed to shrink into herself. I didn't know what to do or what to say, so I just stayed silent, hoping she would talk this through with me. I felt ... inadequate.

"Promise you won't hate me."

What?

"Please, Jus. I couldn't bear for you to hate me. To see disgust in your eyes."

She looked up at me, pleading, and the tears were running freely now. She was so afraid. I wanted to take her in my arms but I didn't know whether this would help or break the fragile woman in front of me. Tears welled in my own as I looked at her, trying to convey all my love.

"Lena, my darling, I love you. Nothing you can do or say will ever change that."

She searched my face. Whatever she saw reassured her. She closed her eyes, the lashes glistening with the tears still flowing.

"Please, turn out the light, Jus. There's something I should ... I need ... to tell you. But I don't want you to see me, to look at me. Otherwise ... I don't think I can do it."

"OK." I got up and switched off the room light. Settled back on the couch facing her. I passed her one of the cushions, thinking it might help her to hold one just like I'd seen Ericka do. She clutched it like a life buoy. I turned off the table lamp and the room was plunged into black before easing to shades of grey from the streetlight seeping through the edges of the blinds.

Lena was a dark smudge in the dimness.

It was long moments before she began.

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LENA

I am a matryoshka doll.

Bright paint. Smiling face. You open me and there's another one inside.

Paint flaking. Crooked smile. You open me and there's another one inside.

And another. This one cracked.

And another.

Each successive doll smaller. Each more broken. Cruder and uglier.

The final doll is a tiny, mis-shaped, ruined horror. It has been buried deep inside me for so long. But I could feel it's malignity seeping out. Eating me from the inside out. Warping the outer dolls. It was only a matter of time before the taint reached the surface. And then the beauty of the largest doll would be marred, and all the world would see the real me I had struggled to hide for so long. The crippled, rotten, horrid thing I was.

I am so afraid of letting it out. Afraid that Jus, once she knows, will never look at me the same again. That I will never see that look of love in her beautiful eyes. That I will see only disgust, revulsion, rejection.

But too much has leached out. I cannot paint this over. I must tell her. She deserves to know what a broken thing she has. What a shattered travesty I am.

At least it is dark. Appropriate for sharing dark things. I crack open the last casing. The final doll peers out into the gloom. My demons howl.

I take a moment and draw an unsteady breath.

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LENA

"My parent's relationship was ... toxic. Whatever it had begun as, by the time I was old enough to understand these things, it had become dysfunctional. I remember arguments, screams. Occasional violence. More, I suspect now, that was hidden from me. Mom retreated into drugs. Whether that was the cause or not to begin with I don't know, but it was her escape. It made it worse of course. She lived from hit to hit. I don't even know whether she really knew, towards the end, where she was or even who she was. Or who I was."

"Dad did drugs too. Not as often, because he needed to be straight for his syndicate work. I didn't know it then, but looking back I understand that the odd hours, the packages, conversations with strange voices that would wake me in the night, the guns ... he was in deep in the cartel."