Unless it Happens to be Her

Just us, it feels like. Not like either of us has a boyfriend or anything.

Brittney shifted her feet, suddenly annoyed.

She'd been spending so much time with Cal that she hadn't thought about John as much, or anyone else. Everyone at work knew what had happened to her and aside from a few smirking jerks, had been respectful about it. After John had been gone a month, another agent in the center—a rather nice man by the name of Zack—had asked Brittney if she wanted to get a cup of coffee. She thought he was nice enough but she wasn't sure she felt up to dating yet after John and had told Zack as much. He took it well and hadn't asked again.

On the other hand, it seems like every man at Three Spark with a pulse had taken a crack at Cal. Brittney supposed she couldn't blame them; her friend was pretty and built like a centerfold. Cal had gently rejected them all. She told Brittney that she hadn't dated since coming back to Arizona, that her last relationship in Colorado had ended badly right before her dad had passed, and that she'd since been focused on working and helping her mom.

I guess I should be glad she has time to spend with me.

The front door opened, revealing a thin woman in her fifties. Deborah was taller than Cal but had the same auburn hair as her daughter, and the same infectious smile. On seeing Brittney, she smiled. "Hi, Britt. Come on in."

"Thank you. Is Cal ready?"

Deborah closed the front door and waved her hand to the back. "She's in her room. Oh, by the way, do you know if your Mom still wants to meet for coffee tomorrow? My phone died, and I think it's for good this time, so I can't text her. I'll have to go to the Verizon store in the morning."

"As far as I know, she does. I'll text her now."

"Thank you." Deborah returned to the living room.

Brittney sent the question to her mom. Deborah and her own mother had met early in her and Cal's friendship and struck up one of their own. Brittney told her mother about Cal's father passing and that Deborah had not gotten out as much afterward. Being the empathetic soul that she was, Daphne had immediately welcomed Deborah into her life and the two had become fast friends—almost as much so as their daughters. They regularly met for coffee or lunch.

I'm glad. Deborah seemed so sad and lonely and Mom ... hell, Mom never says no to another friend.

Brittney reached Cal's bedroom door, which was closed. She rapped on the panel. "Hey, chica! Get those buns in gear!"

"C'mon in," came the muffled response.

Brittney grinned and entered—and stopped in her tracks.

Cal stood by the bed sorting clothes. She was clad only in a plain white bra and matching underwear. Brittney could not help but notice her friend's heavy breasts and the pleasant curve of Cal's hips. Body of a model ... hell more like the body of Aphrodite herself.

Cal glanced at Brittney, who averted her gaze. She'd never been particularly shy around other women changing clothes or the like but for some reason, looking at Cal tickled something in her abdomen that she thought was embarrassment ... though it didn't feel exactly like embarrassment. "Sorry, I didn't know you were dressing. I'll wait with your mom."

"Oh, please, get yourself in here," Cal said, laughing. "Don't be a prude. Jeez, didn't you ever use the locker room at the gym?"

Brittney chuckled. Yeah, I'm being stupid. "Okay, fine." She stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

Cal grabbed a blouse and slipped it over her head. Brittney's eyes fell to the smooth skin of Cal's legs and she swallowed hard. With the shirt on but her legs bare, Cal looked even more fetching than she had before. Brittney looked away again, more confused than ever.

A moment later, she felt a quick tap on her shoulder and faced her friend again, who now beamed at her. Cal had slipped into a pair of skin-tight jeans which did nothing but highlight her legs. "All right, Miss Drama, I'm ready. You really weren't embarrassed because I was in my underwear, were you?"

"No, of course not." Brittney forced herself to laugh, as if the notion was ludicrous.

"Good, because if you were, I'd have to do something like this to pick on you." Cal tilted her head, leaned in close, and kissed Brittney's cheek.

Brittney froze. Waves of heat radiated through her skin.

Cal smirked. "But since you denied it, I won't have to do that." She laughed and flounced past.

Brittney stared at the wall. One hand touched the spot on her cheek.

What the hell is wrong with me? I've jokingly kissed other girls on the cheek and vice versa, and never felt like this. That was like if a guy kissed me. It was ... I ... She shook herself. You're wigging out over nothing. Quit being a weirdo.

Her phone chimed and she saw it was a message from her mom, confirming her coffee appointment with Deborah. Brittney blinked, pushed her odd thoughts aside, and left Cal's room to let Deborah know.

It was a cool afternoon by Phoenix standards, so they drove with the windows down, enjoying the fall air. Cal's curly hair bounced and flowed in the breeze, eliciting a grin from Brittney. She so enjoyed time with her pretty, vivacious friend.

They stopped at a light. A nice-looking shirtless guy with a lanky, muscular frame, a square jaw, and dark hair guided his bike across the crosswalk. Brittney eyed the man's flat stomach and growled. "Oh, check out the scenery."

"Nice," Cal replied. Her eyes tracked the guy as well. "That's one hell of a six-pack. I bet he could put a hurting on a woman."

Brittney giggled as the biker reached the far corner. "I'm tempted to call him back. About the only thing I miss about John right now was the lovin'. That was never a problem between us. I'll flip you for Shirtless there."

"You go ahead. I can't do straight hookups anymore. I did a few but ..." Cal shrugged. "It wasn't for me.

"Me either but for a guy like that, I might make an exception."

Brittney hadn't ever had a one-night-stand. She had only ever been with three men, all of whom had been long-term relationships. In her two years with John, she'd gotten used to steady sex. With him now gone and her sex life stalled, Brittney noted her anxiety inching upwards over the weeks. Her fingers and magic wand helped take the edge off to keep her sane. Still, it felt a little naughty and exciting to contemplate some no-strings fucking with a hot guy.

Cal jerked her chin in the direction the biker had gone. "I'd have to get to know him for a while first and a man like that probably isn't willing to put in the time. Just looking at him, I bet he has a whole stable of ready-to-go girls he can pick and choose from. I'm used to that. It's been a year since I had a steady relationship."

"I thought you said you had a bad break-up right before your dad passed."

Cal stared straight ahead.

Brittney laughed as the answer occurred to her. "Oh, you meant you had a friend-with-benefits."

Her friend smiled, though Brittney thought it was somewhat forced. "Something like that.

A nagging notion, that she was missing something, teased the fringes of Brittney's mind but she couldn't quite lock it down. She shrugged. The light turned and they drove on.

#

Cal was already at her desk when Brittney arrived and flopped at her desk. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself." Cal picked up her headset. "Another Tuesday evening in the trenches, right?"

"Yep. You and your mom still coming over Thursday?" Because it was just the two of them, Daphne had invited Deborah and Cal to Thanksgiving dinner with the family. Brittney was looking forward to it. She was excited but nervous for her siblings to meet Cal and hoped they would like her as much as she did.

Cal opened her mouth to answer but a call came in. She held up one finger and answered. Brittney sat down and logged in. Immediately, her own call came in. She quickly learned that there had been a major outage in Kansas for one of their contracted providers, following an outbreak of thunderstorms. Complaints and requests for assistance tumbled in one after another, drowning her in work, and before Brittney knew it, it was almost one. As soon as she had a crack in incoming calls, she placed herself on her lunch break and logged out. Cal was still on the phone. Brittney pointed toward the break room; Cal gave her a thumbs up and held up three fingers ... which, from the signals the two of them had worked out, meant she thought had about three more minutes on the current call. Brittney smiled and nodded, and headed to the break room. She fetched her meal, sat, and waited.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to the door ... though the smile on her face died when she saw it was Glen Jackson and not Cal. Her lip curled; Cal had mentioned that Glen hit on her a few days after she started working there, then again a month ago—this time acting stalkerish enough to wait by the door to catch her on the way out and follow her to her car after her shift. Cal had said she'd put him in his place and blistered his ears when he hadn't backed off fast enough. Brittney kind of wished she had seen that.

Now, she faced forward and scowled, hoping he wasn't going to hang out in there.

Glen popped his dinner in the microwave. "Hey, Britt." His grin alone made Brittney feel filthy. "Waiting for your girlfriend?"

"What's it to you?"

"I should have guessed that's why John actually left."

What the fuck is his problem? This is way over the line. She glared at him. "Glen, leave me alone."

"Hey, don't get mad at me because he figured out you were a dyke."

"What does that even mean?"

"Talking about you and the carpet muncher out there." He smirked. "All makes sense now."

The blood drained from her face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You and Cal. It's pretty obvious y'all are bumping uglies. John was a man and no man wants to play second fiddle to some lesbian." His face took on a mock-serious look, though the malevolent gleam in his eye remained. "Don't get mad, Britt. Talk nice to me and maybe I can give you a stiff rod, get you back on the right course ... you know, fuck the gay out of you. That's all you messed-up chicks need."

Blood roared in her ears. Brittney's nostrils flared. Her hands curled into fists.

Glen blew her a kiss and turned toward the microwave ... revealing the unsmiling face of their shift supervisor, who stood in the door of the break room. Glen's eyes grew wide. "Oh, uh ... hey, Jim, I—

Jim pointed. "My office, Mr. Jackson. Now." He stepped aside as Glen nervously stepped past him, shot an unreadable glance at Brittney, then vanished, following Glen.

She stared at the doorway. What the hell just happened? Glen thinks I like girls? Or is he just yanking my chain? I don't understand— A thought occurred. Cal's attracted to women? How did I miss that? Now that the notion was in her head, Brittney rapidly saw all the signs she'd overlooked before. Oh my God. How stupid am I? Wait a second ... Another thought punched into her mind. Did ... did she spend all this time with me because she likes me that way? No, of course not. She's been a great friend. Hasn't she?

It all became too much. She placed her elbows on the table, put her head in her hands, and rubbed her eyes for a moment.

Gentle fingers touched her shoulder and Brittney's head shot up.

Cal smiled at her. "Hey. You okay?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I just saw security escorting Glen Jackson out. Jim said he was terminated for harassment." She chuckled and pulled her salad from the fridge. "Tonight's not a total loss after all."

Brittney nodded, unsure what to say.

Cal sat and popped the lid on her dinner. She sprinkled Parmesan cheese and then scattered croutons over the Romaine leaves. "Something bothering you, Britt? You look a little pale."

"Are you gay?"

The other woman paused in the act of stabbing her fork into her salad and regarded Brittney with stony eyes.

Damn it, why did I say that? Her hands twisted her napkin. "I-I'm sorry, it just slipped out."

"Why did you ask?"

"Just something Glen said. I apologize, it's none of my business."

Cal put her fork down. "Well, as it happens, Brittney, I'm actually bisexual."

"Oh." Brittney gave her napkin another twist. As if two wires had suddenly snapped together to allow the current to flow, her brain caught up to what her friend had said in the car weeks before. "The bad breakup you had before your dad passed. That wasn't a friend-with-benefits with a man ... you were dating a woman?"

"Her name was Sasha. Russian. Pretty." A husky, wistful laugh escaped Cal's lips. "I liked her a lot but as they say, she had problems keeping her legs closed. Being cheated on isn't just for straight couples."

Brittney sat still, not knowing what to do. She fell back on an old standard. "W-why didn't you tell me that you're, uh, bi?"

"Probably because I've had this exact reaction from people far too often." Cal crossed her arms. "Let me guess: you think I became your friend because I was attracted to you and wanted to hit on you. Is that it?"

"It crossed my mind," Brittney admitted, "but when I thought about it further, I thought about how much I enjoy your company. I feel like we're best friends and I love that about us. Was ... was I wrong?"

"No and I don't know if I can explain to you how frustrating this is or how many times I've had this conversation." She leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "A bisexual woman can be friends with another woman without wanting to fuck her. I wish people understood that."

Brittney sat mute.

Cal lowered her head. She sighed and her face grew sad. "Is this going to be a problem? If you don't want to be my friend anymore, I understand—"

Brittney's stomach clenched. The idea of setting aside her lovely, happy friend was horrible. She blurted, "No!" Seeing Cal's shocked look, she fought down her panic. "No, that's not what I want at all. I was just surprised and I think I felt a little stupid that I never picked up on it. I still think you're fantastic. I wasn't lying. You really are my best friend, Cal."

The downcast look fell off Cal's face, replaced by a slight grin. "Okay. I think you're great, too." She picked up her fork. "You have questions? I mean, I don't walk around advertising my status but if I can help you understand, I'm willing to talk about it. I don't think you'd go around talking about me behind my back."

"I'd never do that to you."

"I believe you." Cal took a bite.

She felt a pressing need to lighten the mood and took a chance. 'So ... was that you saying I'm not fuckable?" She braced, ready to apologize.

Cal gave her a sharp glance but relaxed on seeing Brittney's grin. She winked. "No, you're too skinny for me. But if we ever fall in love, I'll let you know after."

Brittney laughed. Cal had said the last bit in a light, joking tone but deep in her mind, Brittney knew Cal had left that door open. Perhaps just a crack but open nonetheless. A swirl of emotions she didn't understand crowded at the threshold of that door. The momentary vision of her and Cal together filled her thoughts. She shook her head to dispel the image and hurried on, glad that they'd moved past the moment of hurt. "So ... you've been in relationships with both men and women?"

"Yeah." Cal paused. "But not at the same time. It works for some people but for me, that would be cheating."

"I didn't—"

"I know you didn't but a lot of folks do. You'd be surprised how many people assume that everyone that's bi likes to hop from a man to a woman overnight, or engage in threesomes, or more, and that's not me. I'm a one-lover woman." She gestured with her fork in the direction of Brittney's meal. "You better eat."

"Okay, Mom."

"Someone has to take care of you."

"I know, I need lots of supervision. Do, uh, you like men or women better?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't work that way, Britt. When you're bisexual, you're attracted to the person, not their gender. If I love someone, it doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl. Hell, it wouldn't matter if they chose to identify as some other gender either, though that's never come up. Sure, men and women are different sexually and they both have their own advantages, but I never think about it in those terms."

"Does your mom know?"

"Yes and she doesn't care. She just wants me to be happy with whoever I'm with."

"I see." And Brittney thought she did see. She watched her friend while they both ate and tried to decide if this newfound knowledge changed anything.

No, of course it doesn't, she thought. Cal is just as awesome as she was a half-hour ago. The other, that doesn't mean anything.

"Anything else?"

"No, and Cal? Everything you said ... it doesn't change a thing. You're still stuck with me."

Cal's answering smile made Brittney warm all over.

#

"Brittney!" her mom barked, pointing at the stove. "How long has that pie been in?"

"Shit, I forgot to set the timer." She fumbled with the oven mitt, yanked the door open, and pulled out the glass pie dish. The crust had developed a caramel brown at the edges—dark without being burned. She stuck a kitchen knife into the center of the pie and pulled it out. The knife came away clean. "A little brown but not burned. The center is done."

"All right, but pay attention to the last one. I don't have time to make up another one." Daphne hefted the hand beater and with the whir of an electric motor, began thrashing an enormous bowl of mashed potatoes again.

"Like anyone would notice if there was a single pie missing," Brittney grumbled under her breath. Between her low volume and the running beater, she didn't think her mother had heard her, which was probably just as well. Considering her normally sunny nature, Daphne turned into an utter drill sergeant in the kitchen. Brittney stuffed the last pie in the oven. "It's in now. Okay?"

"Okay. Pay attention!"

Brittney thought there was little utility in pointing out that Thanksgiving dinner was only going to consist of their family, all of whom loved Daphne so much they'd be happy if she served them twigs and pebbles for dinner, and Deborah, who was a good friend. And Cal.

She couldn't wait to introduce her best friend to the rest of her family.

She smiled, wondering what her friend would make of her siblings and father. Brittney's family was plain-spoken, outgoing, and friendly but all of them at once could be overwhelming. She just hoped Cal and Deborah would enjoy themselves.

"Brittney!"

She blinked and looked at her mother. "Huh? Sorry, I was daydreaming."

"Set the timer for that pie!" She wiped her hands on a dishrag. "I swear, girl, sometimes I wonder if you got dropped on your head too much as an infant."

"If I did, it was your fault."

"No, that was your dad," Daphne said with a straight face. "I did all the good loving."

Brittney laughed and set the timer. "Mom, everything's going to be fine. You can stop panicking."

"I'll stop panicking when it's over." The doorbell rang. "Get that, would you? Probably Maya. I can't get that woman to realize this is her home too now. Go, go!"

Brittney didn't argue. Her mom loved hosting and loved feeding her family and guests. She only accepted Brittney's help with a grudging admission that she couldn't quite do all the prep by herself and had even chased both Monica and Paul out of the kitchen when they tried to help. Brittney had laughed to herself a few days earlier when, in the interest of sparing her mom the work, her dad had seriously attempted to have the event catered, and Daphne had almost torn his ears off for daring to suggest such a thing, saying she wasn't going to serve her grandchildren someone else's Thanksgiving meal in her own home.