The Journey Ch. 09

"Why don't you want to talk about it?" I finally said.

"You wouldn't understand," she said softly, looking down at the counter.

"Then help me understand."

"You can't."

"Why not?"

Her voice became ragged. "Because you're not black, okay?"

"Wait, because I'm not black, you can't even talk to me about it? What kind of crap is that, I--"

"No! That's... look, can we just drop it?"

"No." I could feel my temper coming up and did my best to squash it. "Babe, you need to talk to me."

Jane didn't squash her temper. "Okay, you know what? I'm done fighting about this, I'm going to go see my parents for the weekend."

"What?!" I watched as she grabbed her keys off the counter. "You cannot be serious!"

"I'll be back tomorrow night." She picked her bag up off the kitchen stool and headed to the steps.

"Babe, don't walk away from me!"

She stopped, and turned to look at me. "If this relationship is going to work, Viv, you have to respect my boundaries."

"Oh, we have boundaries now?" I said acidly.

Her eyes flared with anger. "I'll be back tomorrow." She turned and was gone, leaving me standing in the living room. When I heard the door slam, I walked numbly back to the bedroom and stood at the window. Moments later, I watched her little SUV back out of the garage and drive away down the alley.

I turned and caught my reflection in the mirror over the dresser.

That was some bullshit. I thought.

"She just needs time." I said to my reflection.

She's had plenty of time. She just doesn't want to talk to me.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone."

Maybe she'll talk to her mom. But not me.

"Because I can't understand."

Yup.

I sighed, looking at our bed.

I don't want to, but I know what I should do. What I need to do.

"Fuck."

For the second time since I'd known Jane, I made the decision. This time, I knew it was the right one.

I went to Jane's office, opened the closet and pulled out my suitcase.

~~ Fairfax, Virginia, four days later ~~

"Sure you don't wanna go with us?" Diego asked.

"Yeah man, you guys have fun. I'm going to do some homework. Maybe watch the Nats game." There was no way I was going to horn in on my brother's date night.

"Okay, we'll be back around eleven, twelve probably."

"Have you talked to Jane yet?" Virginia asked, coming out of the bedroom.

"No, I've been letting her go to voicemail."

"Viv, you have to at least talk to her."

"Eventually," I said. "Not really something I want to do by phone."

"Then go see her," she said.

"Ball's in her court."

Diego snorted. "You stubborn chica," he said. He turned to his wife "Viv hasn't even told her where she is. Jane has no idea where to find her."

"What?!" Virginia blurted. "Viv!"

I held up my hands warningly. "Look, don't start. I've danced with the fuck-up fairy plenty in my life. This isn't a fuck up. This is the right decision, right now."

"But--"

"Virginia..." I said, warningly.

"Okay, okay! I'll mind my business. You need anything before we go?"

"All good in the hood, hermana."

Virginia gave me a hug, and they headed out.

I looked over at my suitcase at the end of the couch, with the pile of blankets and pillows on top and grinned ruefully. When I'd left Jane's townhouse I'd ridden the orange line out to Vienna and called Diego to pick me up. I'd been crashing on their couch all week. I could always count on Diego to have my back. Though I didn't want to overstay my welcome.

Might as well do some work on my backup plan for house hunting before I get started on homework.

After a half-hour of browsing Craig's list ads for rentals, I got up and stretched, then went into the tiny kitchen and opened the fridge. I was reaching for a Coke when I froze.

When I'd arrived, Diego had made a big show of pouring out the half a bottle of wine they'd had open in the fridge, then had taken a six pack of Tecate out to his car, to give to one of the guys he worked with. I'd appreciated the gesture.

But now, behind the stack of Cokes, I saw a single red can of Tecate he must have missed. I glared at it, taking a deep breath.

I shut the door, cracked open the can... then took a sip of the Coke I'd chosen.

"Not today, motherfucker," I muttered under my breath, grinning at myself. I did a little dance back to the couch.

The Nats were losing six-nothing, so I switched off the game and opened the homework assignment I wanted to work on. Just as I started typing there was a knock at the door.

Thinking it was probably one of Diego's neighbors, I ignored the first knock, but got up at the second, more insistent one.

When I opened the door, I was unsurprised.

"Virginia texted you, huh?"

"Viv," Jane didn't have tears in her eyes, but they weren't far off.

"I guess she meant well. C'mon on in, I don't want to do this out here." I turned and walked away from the door. Jane followed, closing the door behind her.

"You just left!" she started. "How could--"

I let out a short bark of laughter.

"I left?! Jane, I was trying to talk to you and you walked out on me."

"I just needed some space and you wouldn't back off! And I was just going for the night. You moved out without saying anything to me!"

"Look, you made it clear, there's some things that you simply won't talk about with me because I 'can't understand', and I'm not okay with that."

"Look, Viv... you have to understand, culturally--"

"Cut the shit, professor!" I snapped.

Her mouth shut with an audible click.

"I get it, Jane. It's a specific experience being black in this country, one that I don't have."

"That's what I was trying to say."

"But guess what? You don't have any experience of having a parent deported. Or being an alcoholic. And you're allowed to 'understand' what I'm going through. You're allowed to 'be there' for me," I said, sarcastically making finger quotes.

"I... I..." she shut up and I could see her mind racing.

"Yeah, you see the problem? You can get all up in my business. About my drinking, about my mom, Abuela, college, whatever. You're allowed to go to Al-Anon, and forgive me for drinking, and move me in with you, so you can support me. Take care of me. Help me with Abuela on Sundays. And I'm fine with that Jane. Because even though all my shit is outside your experience, I know you love me, that you have empathy and can listen and be there for me. And that's all I need from you. But when it's something that you're going through, well you won't talk to me about it because I just can't understand. I'm not allowed to listen and be there for you. Because I can't get it, won't understand it. Hell, you're even allowed to get mad at me when I tell you that I want to pay you rent. In other words, you're allowed to have boundaries but I'm not."

I summoned every ounce of my pride, crossed my arms over my chest and stood a little taller.

"Jane, partners get to be there for each other. You're not letting me be a partner to you. And if I'm not your partner, well... then I'm just your pet. And you know what? I deserve better than that."

I really believed what I'd just said, that as much as I just wanted to be there for her, I deserved better than how Jane was treating me. And that I was willing to stand up for what I deserved.

A remote corner of my mind thought, Damn, all the therapy is really working.

"Viv..." A tear trickled down her cheek now. "My God, Viv, I don't... I'd never think of you like that..."

I let myself soften a degree.

"I know babe. Look..." I took a deep breath. "I hit rock-fucking-bottom before I was ready to accept help. Hell, after I hit bottom I tried to keep digging. You're not at the bottom yet, but you're spiraling and I want you to get help before you have to get help. You need help. If you won't talk to me, I need you to talk to someone, even if it's not me." I paused for a reaction, but she might as well have been a statue. "I'm sorry I left. But I needed to shock you into knowing how serious I think this is for you. And also..."

You mean it, so say it.

"Even if I can't know what it's like to be black, which you're right about, well... If you don't see me as someone who you can at least vent to or share your feelings with when something like Wakeville happens to you, then we shouldn't be together. Because I want to be someone's partner, not their project."

She stood there, wringing her hands. Then she covered her face and took a huge, shuddering breath. Her hands dropped, she gave me a long look then dropped heavily onto the couch.

"You're right. You're right! I'm sorry."

I sat down next to her. And waited.

"I'm just... I don't know how to talk about it."

"Start anywhere. The one thing I learned in rehab is just to start. Anywhere, but you have to start. If you don't start then nothing can ever come out."

"Like what? How humiliating it was? How powerless I felt, how scared?"

"That's as good a place as any. I know it had to be traumatizing."

She gave a bitter laugh. "Traumatizing. I wish that's what my problem was!"

"So, what's the real problem?"

There was a long pause, as she weighed her words.

"I just... I feel so stupid!"

That was the last thing I'd expected her to say.

"Stupid? Why?"

"Because... because I... I'd let myself believe that something like that wouldn't happen to me. Me! I teach this stuff for a living! And for some reason I'd let my guard down. Thinking it would never happen to me. I'm a professor. I wrote a book. I got a PhD. Surely that cop wouldn't flex his badge on me just because he could! I'm above all that! How fucking stupid am I to have ever let myself believe that?!"

"Hey, hey babe, it's okay!" I quickly put my arms around her, pulling her tightly against me as she cried. "Nobody ever wants to think something like that could happen to them."

She pushed me away.

"Right. Of all people, I should know better. It doesn't matter who you are, or what you've accomplished. It doesn't matter! If I drive through the wrong neighborhood or have too nice of a car or have what some cop thinks is the wrong attitude, or lack of respect for them," she spat the word like a curse, "then some guy with a little authority can put me in my place."

I felt my heart break a little. "Jane... It doesn't matter how smart or educated someone is, no one can be prepared for something like that to happen."

"I'm writing a book about policing in America right now, Viv! How could I not be prepared?"

"Because the human part of you wants to expect humanity from the rest of the world. Even though you and I both know there's tons of people out there with no humanity in them, we want people to act like humans to their fellow humans. Because that's the world we want to live in. Even if it's not."

She let out a heavy shuddering sigh and leaned over to rest her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her again. This time she didn't push me away.

"Jane, you're literally the smartest person I know. Just because you weren't prepared to have some asshole decide he was going to ruin your day, or life, or whatever, doesn't make you stupid."

"I feel stupid," she said, then sniffled.

"Do you remember that time you gave me a ride home from class and I was ragging on Cindy? That white girl who was always going on about dumb shit like 'redlining was outlawed sixty years ago, why do we have to do anything about it now?'"

Jane laughed softly at my impression.

"You tried to turn me around on her bullshit. Or I called it bullshit I think. You said she was a valuable part of the class because we got to see different viewpoints. You even said maybe she'd come around from her own bullshit after being exposed to others viewpoints."

Jane was nodding her head against my shoulder.

"I remember."

"So how surprising is it, really, for someone as positive as yourself, who always wants to hope for the best in people, to have been surprised when some small-town prick decided to pull you over and hassle you for daring to drive through his town. Hell, Jane, if you hadn't been caught off guard it'd have been totally out of character for you."

We sat in comfortable silence for a minute before she copied one of my moves, holding her hand out flat in front of us, palm up, fingers spread. I smiled, covering her hand with mine and our fingers laced tightly together.

"I'm sorry I wouldn't talk to you. That I ran away from you."

"You're here now."

"It wasn't... Viv, it wasn't really because you aren't black you know. It was because I was humiliated. Embarrassed. When you came and rescued me, I was feeling like the world's biggest idiot. And... I'm not used to feeling like that."

I let out a bark of laughter. "I bet not! Dr. Big Brain!"

She sat up and playfully slapped my arm. Then she looked at me, her hazel eyes boring into mine.

"You know that I don't think of you as a pet or a project, right?"

"I do now."

"Good. Because for all you like to talk me up as smart, because I have a PhD or wrote a book, you're just as smart as I am. We had different childhoods that set us on different paths, but you're shrewd and street-smart in a way I could never be because of my upbringing. And I can't think of a woman I've ever met who's better suited to be my partner. To be my love. You're the one for me."

"I love you too, Jane. More than anything." The room was suddenly very dusty.

"Then... can we can go home?"

We made love that night for the first time since Wakeville.

When we walked into the apartment I left my suitcase by the top of the steps, and we headed to the bedroom shedding clothes as we went.

Most times we had sex, it was above the sheets. I wanted to feast my eyes on the glory of Jane. I also liked having the freedom of movement to perform whatever acrobatic move I thought might blow Jane's mind in the moment.

Tonight, we climbed under the comforter and wrapped ourselves around each other, our legs intertwined, my arms around her. I wanted every square centimeter of our skin possible to be touching.

I stared into Jane's eyes as I kissed her softly on the lips. She leaned her forehead against mine, her eyes moist.

"I was so scared when I came home and all your stuff was gone," she whispered.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I get it. But... don't do that again. Please."

"As long as we keep talking, we'll work it out, okay?"

She gave a sound halfway between a sniffle and a soft laugh. "When did you get to be the one with relationship smarts?"

"Therapy, baby."

"Well... keep it up."

I kissed her harder then. She leaned into it, and I took it as a sign it was okay to start running my hands over her back, down to her magnificent ass. I used my nose to gently turn her head away from me so I could lick the hollow behind her ear. She shivered and pressed herself harder to me. My leg pressed up between hers, and I felt the slickness on my thigh as she ground herself into me.

"Babe..." she breathed.

I let my hand slide from her backside, over her hip and down between us, my middle finger sliding between her folds. She gasped softly, as my finger slipped easily inside. I pressed my forehead against hers and she opened her eyes, staring into me.

"Yes, Viv... yes..." she whispered against my face.

"I love you, babe," I whispered back. It seemed to send her over the edge, as she shuddered through her orgasm. I left my hand where it was, slowly stroking her g-spot with my fingertip. Her breathing never really slowed to normal, and in minutes she was quivering again. She slid her arms around me, like a drowning woman grasping for a piece of flotsam in a storm.

This time she said nothing, clamping her thighs around my wrist as she came once more. She was silent, as I held her while she came down. I could see a small tear slide down her cheek.

"Are you okay?" I whispered after a few moments.

She nodded, her curls bobbing on the top of my head.

"You sure?"

"As long as you're here, I'll be okay."

I pulled her closer to me, smiling into the darkness.

~~ Alexandria, Virginia ~~

*Smack*

"Nice one," I said.

"The power comes from your hips," Connie told me.

*Smack*

"How's that possible? You're not swinging the bat with your feet."

"Watch my hips," she said, slapping herself on the hip closest to me.

"Jane would be upset if she heard you telling me to watch your ass."

The pitching machine lobbed another ball towards the plate painted on the cement of the batting cage.

*Whiff*

"Damn it!" Connie said, then laughed. "I said my hips. See how I start my swing with my hips before I start bringing my hands forward?"

*Smack*

"If you say so. I guess I generate a lot of my power bowling with my legs too."

Connie hit a few more until the machine stopped and the red light came on, indicating she'd gotten all the balls she'd paid for.

"Okay, your turn." She pulled open the chain link door and held the bat out to me.

"This isn't going to go well, I'm guessing," I said, as I stepped into the cage.

"Give it a go and let's see"

I pulled one of the tokens we'd bought for the softball batting cages at Cameron Run Park out of the pocket of my jeans and dropped it into the slot in the box. The machine started clanking. It flung a ball towards me and I waved the bat at it, missing by what I'm sure was a country mile and almost losing my balance.

"You're too far away from the plate. Step a little closer and stand with your feet a little wider. Squat down a little so your center of gravity is lower," Connie offered.

"If you say so."

I fouled the next one straight down onto the plate. Then I hit the next two weakly back towards the machine.

"Better. Lift your back elbow up."

"What?" I said, confused. I whiffed on the next one.

"Your elbow nearest me," Connie said. "You're holding it in tight to your body. That affects your ability to control the bat on the swing. Hold it back towards me at a ninety-degree angle to your body."

I did so. "That feels weird," I said, letting a pitch go by.

"Trust me."

I swung at the next one and pulled it hard off to my left.

"Nice! Now wait just a hair longer before you pull the trigger."

I fouled off the next one, but the one after that...

*Smack*

A line-drive over the top of the machine.

"Hell yeah!" Connie clapped.

"Alright smart ass, don't be condescending to me."

"I'm not! That was a rip! Do it again."

I swung at four more pitches, fouling one and hitting respectable line drives on the other three before the red light came on, telling me I was done. We traded places.

"I never thought I'd be doing this on a Saturday afternoon," I told her as she dropped a token in the slot.

"You said you wanted to hang out. This is what I do with a lot of my spare time, when I'm not..." she trailed off. The machine lobbed a ball at her.

*Smack*

"Not hanging out at the bar," I said. "It's cool. You can say it."

"I just don't wanna, you know... rub it in your face."

"If I was going to drink every time someone mentioned having a beer, I'd have relapsed like a hundred times more than I have. I'd have relapsed the first time I watched a baseball game and every other commercial was for Bud Light."