With Open Arms Pt. 02

Chapter 4: More Than A Feeling

The memories of her past continued to ramble through Jennifer's mind as she showered, washing away all the sweat caused by Ryan's torturous physical ability tests. Her muscles felt sore, but otherwise all right as she looked down, watching the water as it ran over her small breasts, past her flat stomach, and over her nearly non-existent hips. She could see the scars on her right knee and left ankle, but it was the one on her lower leg that was most prominent. It was long and angry looking, at least to her. The scars on her chest and abdomen bothered her less because they'd healed better, and she knew they would fade over time. She then reached up and felt the one on the left side of her face. It started just outside her left eye and wound its way down and over her left jaw. It had been another gift from Darren, most likely from when he'd knocked her through the glass top coffee table.

She shut the water off and grabbed her towel, and dried off. After dressing, she grabbed a comb out of her purse and stood at the mirror, drying her hair. When it was sufficiently dry, she carefully brushed it back into a tight ponytail taking great care to make sure the thick and long front hair covered the bald spot that had been Darren's final parting gift.

She then gathered her things and headed for Ryan's office. Things went about as she expected. He was sincerely complimentary of the hard work she had put in and genuinely impressed with the rate of her recovery. He then signed the release forms and handed them to her offering to walk her to the door.

"Here it comes," thought Jennifer.

And sure enough, as they reached the door, he had asked her to dinner. She'd had a whole speech she'd prepared to let him down without hurting him. He was far too good a guy to be rude to, so it had been crafted to shelter his ego as much as possible, but when it came time to say it, Jennifer drew a blank. Instead, out of her mouth came the one thing she hadn't been prepared to admit, though it was probably the most honest thing she could have.

"I'm sorry, Ryan, but you do know I'm a lesbian, don't you?" she said with a tilted head and a gentle smile.

Ryan leaned against the frame of the open door, still holding it open. He scratched his chin with his other hand, something she'd notice over the last year or so that he did when his mind was trying to work through a problem.

"I'm embarrassed, Jennifer. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. No, I didn't know. I'd always assumed otherwise once I read your injuries resulted from a beating by your ex-boyfriend and the resulting chase and crash."

Jennifer reached over and patted his shoulder before securing her gym bag and purse over her right shoulder. "You've done no harm, Ryan, and for the record, my ex was reacting to my having come out to him and breaking things off, so you didn't hear the entire story. Your a great guy, and I hope you'll still consider me a friend."

He smiled and looked at the hand she offered him before taking it and pulling her in for a hug. "Of course I do," Ryan said before adding, "And you take care of yourself, Jennifer. Please stay in touch and let me know if you have any issues."

As she settled into her car and buckled up, she smiled to herself. That was the first time she'd ever indeed been honest with herself about her sexuality, at least since the night of the party at her mother's house, which genuinely seemed like a lifetime ago. It was without a doubt the first time she'd ever come out to anyone publically, and she had to admit, it felt delicious.

As she turned the key in the ignition, the restored sixty-nine Mustang Boss 302's small-block engine roared to life. It didn't have the raw power of the Chevelle her father had left her, but it handled better, which had come to mean a great deal to her through her life experiences.

Checking her watch, she saw she had just enough time to make it to Dr. Sellers office without having to rush. She usually didn't look forward to these visits, but with the positive things that had happened today, her outlook on life felt a bit brighter.

As she pulled out onto the road, the beginning of Boston's "More Than A Feeling" came on the radio. Once again, she had the feeling the universe was talking to her. To hear this play so soon after rehashing her coma dream just seemed eerie.

When I'm tired and thinking cold

I hide in my music, forget the day

And dream of a girl I used to know

I closed my eyes and she slipped away

She slipped away

It's more than a feeling

(more than a feeling)

When I hear that old song they used to play

(more than a feeling)

And I begin dreaming

(more than a feeling)

'Til I see Marianne walk away

Marianne had been the one person that Jennifer hadn't seen since the accident. The last time they'd talked had been in a coffee house a few days after the incident before the party. Jennifer had tried to be as eloquent as possible in convincing her friend that she was interested in seeing what could happen between them but could tell it would be an uphill battle from the beginning. Marianne's body language was completely different from any time she'd ever seen her before. Her friend sat back with her arms crossed and her body at an angle, looking ready to bolt at any sign of distress. And when Jennifer had been unable to explain her reasons for needing six-months before they could see what there was between them, she had shut down entirely and walked away.

Then two weeks later, when word began to spread of Jennifer dating Darren, Marianne had opted to enroll early at Berkeley to start on a full-ride academic scholarship. And just like that, she was gone.

Both Charlie and Tabitha had stopped in to see Jennifer several times during both her hospital stay and her recovery at home. Both had tried in vain to get in contact with Marianne but had no luck. Apparently, after summer school and before fall classes, she had made the trip home to come out to her parents. The Irish Catholic family didn't take it too well, and rather than work to try and win them over, she had washed her hands of them, making the first flight back out to the west coast and leaving her parent supplied cell phone in their mailbox as she left. Tabitha had spoken repeatedly to her Mom who said they'd been unable to get through to her. Emails went unanswered, and calls to the school's administration had yet to produce fruit with them citing student privacy concerns. Since she wasn't going there on her parent's dime, they had no right to information about her.

When she'd finally sat down across from Dr. Sellers, her mood had darkened a bit. The constant reminders regarding Marianne were getting to her. Even if she knew of a way to contact her, she was sure that the girl had made a life of her own, and whatever it consisted of, it didn't include her.

"So, how did your testing go this morning?" the doctor asked.

Without looking up from where she sat with her left leg crossed over her right, running her finger up and down the scar that ran its lower length, she said, "It went well."

The doctor didn't reply, but Jennifer could hear her writing on her notepad, something that always irritated her when it happened.

I would have thought a positive result would have left you in a more upbeat mood," The doctor said before adding, "You had seemed excited to get a clean bill of health, so why do you seem so down."

Jennifer chewed her bottom lip as her mind raced, trying to decide what she wanted to share.

The excellent doctor settled her dilemma by adding, "And remember Jennifer; this is a safe space with no judgment. You must be honest with me, or we're wasting our time here."

Jennifer removed her shoes and pulled both her knees to her chest, hugging them as she did. After a moment's hesitation, she said, "I've been thinking a lot recently about Marianne. I keep thinking about my coma dreams and seeing and hearing things that remind me of her. It frustrates me because there's no way for me to remedy it. She's disappeared from all our lives; her family included, so I have no way of making things right, and that eats at me."

"But why today of all days, Jennifer? What triggered it for you?" the doctor asked.

Jennifer buried her face from the nose down between her knees as if trying to hide from the discussion. It wasn't that she didn't trust Doctor Sellers, so she was confused by her reluctance to share.

Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to act, Jennifer raised her head and blurted out, "Okay, I came out to Ryan, and then I get in the car and when I turn on the radio that song "More Than A Feeling" was playing, you know the one I mean?"

The good doctor was old enough to be more than familiar, "Ah, "I see my Marianne walking away," right? How did hearing that make you feel?"

"Like shit," Jennifer answered, "I was on such a high after passing my physical exams and finding the courage to come out to Ryan, and then I hear that song, and it reminds me of what I put myself through and what I potentially gave up. She was not only beautiful Doc, but she was also a beautiful person and so sweet and caring to me. Yet all along, Marianne was hurting because I couldn't take the time, to be honest with myself nor notice all the signs of her interest in me. When I think back now, it's clear to me that she had feelings for me, and yet I kept her at arm's length the whole time. And when I finally did notice, I freaked and then sold out a chance for a relationship with her just for the chance to free myself from my mother."

The doctor wrote more on her notepad before asking, "Setting aside any moral imperatives, what would you have done differently given the opportunity?"

Jennifer gave a bitter laugh and said, "God, where do I start, first off, I would have told my mother to piss off as far as her offer of dating Darren. I would have embraced my opportunity with Marianne even if I had to keep it on the down-low. I mean, she was going to school on the west coast, and I was staying here to attend college, so even though I knew it couldn't last, I still can't help kicking myself for not at least trying."

After scribbling a bit more, she asked, "Do you think it impossible that you two could have maintained a long-distance relationship? You both had the means to travel and could have visited each other, lots of couples make it work, so why not you two?"

Jennifer looked down at her toes, noticing that she needed to paint her toenails, something she'd much rather be doing than having this conversation. A saying her Dad used to be fond of when deciding whether to tackle a problematic task came to mind spurring her on "In for a penny, in for a pound," she thought before admitting, "I'm not sure I deserve love or to be happy for that matter. And if I feel that way about myself, how can I subject somebody else to a relationship with me?"

"Is that you or your mother talking, Jennifer?" Dr. Sellers asked.

And she didn't have an answer for that.

Jennifer parked her car and made her way to the elevator leading up to her penthouse apartment. She'd used some of the money that she'd received in settlement for signing from Darren's family. They'd been eager to make sure she kept his indiscretions quiet so as not to sully their family name. It made me wonder why they weren't more worried about his behavior when he was alive. According to the detective I spoke to, he had a long history of physical abuse ranging back to his teenage years. Between the settlement, Jennifer received from them and the money her father left her, she could have retired a few months shy of her twenty-second birthday.

As she entered the apartment, her cell phone started ringing. She rolled her eyes, knowing who it was and not wanting to speak to her. Her mother had been calling her several times a day since she'd left home, which she'd done as soon as she was physically able. At first, she'd taken the calls and listened patiently as her mother once again tried to divert any blame off herself even going as far as trying to claim she too was a victim of Darren Rossington. After that call, Jennifer had assigned her the Darth Vader music as a ringtone to avoid having to pull the phone from her bag when she called.

Tossing her things on the entry table and securing all the locks, she was surprised when her phone started ringing but pleased when it wasn't her mother's ringtone but rather the synthesized version of 'What's New Pussycat."

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the phone and hit the button to connect the call, saying, "What's up, Tabby?"

"Jenn," her friends nearly always energetic voice responded, "how the hell are you?"

Jennifer smiled as she opened her refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of juice, "Same shit, different day Tabby, and you?" she responded.

"I'm not ready to graduate and head out into the big, bad, real world, it scares me," she said half-jokingly, "Actually, I'm thinking of staying and getting my Masters, maybe even go for a doctorate."

Tabby had always wanted to be a writer, but after having written two novels while in school and shopping them around only to be rejected by all the major publishing houses had become somewhat disillusioned with the idea.

"So, what does someone with an English doctorate do with it?" I asked out of sincere curiosity. I seriously didn't know.

In her typical sarcastic manner, Tabby replied, "Oh, bag groceries, sweep the floor at a movie theater, work at a convenience store, or maybe become professors and teach other suckers who are dumb enough to study English as a major in college."

"Ah," Jennifer said while giggling, "consider me properly chastised. So, I don't normally hear from you until the weekend. I get a sense there's more to this call than to catch up."

Tabby was quiet for a moment before saying, "Jenn, M is home. She transferred back here for the next semester."

Jennifer felt her heart leap a bit while telling herself at the same time not to get too excited, it had been over two years now, and things hadn't ended well.

"Have you talked to her, Tabby?"

"Nuh, huh," she said, "Her baby brother enrolled here for the winter semester. We ran into each other at the student union; he's been in contact with her the entire time. He said she got back earlier this week."

"Is she back home?" Jennifer asked.

Jennifer grunted and said, "As if that's going to happen. Her father is still dead set against it as long as she's still living the lifestyle. Her mother has softened her resistance considerably but has been unable to get her father to move on his."

Jennifer thought about how horrible that must feel. It was a foreign concept to her. She couldn't imagine her father ever rejecting her for who she was. "So, where's she going to live Tabby. Do you have any idea because I need to talk to her?"

"Sure, babe," she teased, "you get on the elevator and go seven floors south. She's on the ninth floor, apartment 904, but I think you should know Jenn, she's not alone."

There it was, the other shoe dropping, and this time it landed right on Jennifer's head.

Sensing the confusion and hurt on the other end of the line, Tabby said, "Apparently during her first year she met some junior girl, and they started dating. They've been living together for the last couple of years. The girl graduated and earned her masters and then got accepted here in our doctorate program. M gave up getting her degree from Berkeley to move here with her, so I guess it's serious."

Jennifer could feel the depression knocking at her door. Her eyes clouded with tears as she stared out the window. She fought back at the confusion she was feeling, all the thoughts and little signs that had been like billboards signaling her of Marianne's eventual return and now this. It was almost too much to comprehend.

Feeling a bit discouraged, she said, "I have to go Tabby, thanks for the heads up." And with that, she hung up and instantly felt lost and restless. She knew staying here in her apartment was a recipe for disaster. She could feel the darkness she fought after her father's death and during the time after Darren had started abusing her as it struggled to claim her soul.

And then it struck her, just because she couldn't have Marianne didn't mean she had to be alone. She was almost twenty-two years old and had never had any true passion other than her brief encounter with Marianne. It was time she corrected that, and she couldn't do it hiding here at home.

Chapter 5: You Shook Me All Night Long

A quick search of Google had found her a few possible nightspots where lesbians might gather for a drink and a little dancing. Jasmine's was the highest-rated and turned out to only be a few minutes away from her apartment by rideshare. As she stepped out of her Uber, she looked at the front facade of Jasmine's, the building itself appeared conservative with only the women hanging around out front providing a hint as to the potential naughty nature of what you might find inside.

Jennifer had dressed to impress wearing a tight and low cut white top accented smartly she felt by a jade charm necklace her father had purchased for her during a business trip to the far east. It hung down and rested in the visible part between her modest breasts. She wore a black miniskirt made of leather. It flared slightly, giving a bit more volume to her narrow hips and was further accentuated by a wide leather belt that cinched at her tiny waist. To top it off, she'd gone with a pair of black, five-inch Louboutin pumps that further accented her long legs.

The interior of Jasmine's was a complete one-hundred and eighty-degree flip from the outside. Its owner designed it with the idea of providing an intimate and sexy feel while still providing an open dance floor that was spacious enough to accommodate a multitude of women without becoming overcrowded. Along one wall was a long bar operated by a half dozen exotic looking women. She sidled up to the bar and meekly raised a finger gaining the attention of a beguiling Asian bartender who smiled and nodded her head, letting her know she'd be right with her.

She turned and looked around the bar finding herself enticed by the sight of women loving other women without the judgment and ogling of men looking on. The few males she did see present seemed oblivious to what was going on around them as they were caught up in their conversations.

"What can I get you,"

Jennifer turned and found herself awed by the woman's beautiful smile. Her straight white teeth surrounded by her cherry red painted lips made Jennifer's heart race. Someone had twisted her long black hair into an intricately long braid that hung over her right shoulder. Her dark eyes twinkled with a hint of mirth as she studied Jennifer. She wore a leather vest that showcased her firm looking shoulders. Both her arms were covered in sleeves of colorful tattoos. Jennifer found the look oddly attractive.

"Just a vodka tonic," Jennifer told her while trying not to stare.

The bartender bit her bottom lip as she poured the drink before setting it back down under a napkin. "I'm Kacy, by the way," she said with a smile before asking, "This is your first time here, isn't it?"

Jennifer blushed and asked, "Is it that obvious?"

"A bit," said Kacy with a laugh, "is this a curiosity thing, or are you just new in town?"

Jennifer smiled and shrugged her shoulders and said, "Let's say it's something I've recently come to terms with within my life. It's not something I want to fight against anymore."

Leaning her elbows against the bar as she pretended to wipe the surface, she responded, "Nope, it's never a good thing to fight one's nature." She then seemed to consider me before asking, "So, is this just your first time here, or are you looking for your first time as well."