Double Pleasure, Double Pain Page 5

  “I’d rather spend it with you. Please stay.” She made an expression like a kid asking for a piece of candy. I just couldn’t turn down that sweet face of hers.

  “Of course I’ll stay,” I said, taking a seat back on the couch.

  Shortly after Jaron was tucked in bed, Steph asked if I wanted to take her up on that shot of vodka in my cranberry juice. You know I just had to oblige. I was already feeling pretty mellow by the time we had downed our first round. I felt comfortable enough to ask her about Jaron’s father.

  “I was looking for a picture of Jaron’s dad. Is he in Jaron’s life?” I asked.

  Without answering, Steph picked up my glass from the table along with hers and went for refills. Dammit. I guess I was prying again. She had already taken several sips from her glass before she returned. She sat down next to me with her head resting on the side of her hand.

  “His father is in prison. And Jaron doesn’t know who his father is, but I’ll tell him someday. He’s not ready for it yet,” she finally answered.

  “What did he do to end up in prison?”

  She stared at me long and hard. For a moment it looked as if she were in another place, reliving a moment in her past. When she came back there was a mixture of sadness and fear in her eyes.

  “He went to jail for rape. He was a rapist.”

  “Oh, Steph, I’m sorry.”

  Instinctively I reached and grabbed her hand. She held on tightly. I couldn’t imagine how she must have felt when she realized the man she was dating was a rapist.

  “What did you do when you found out? That must have hurt you so bad.”

  Suddenly, the look in her eyes went from sadness, to confusion, to pure amusement. First she smirked, and then smiled . . . a little chuckle escaped, and then she erupted into uncontrollable laughter.

  “What?” I asked. I was confused now. How in the hell was that shit funny?

  “It must be the vodka, Kyla, because it’s really not funny,” she said, holding the sides of her stomach. She wiped her eyes and went to grab a Kleenex from the bathroom. She stood at the entrance to the living room.

  “He raped me, Kyla. I got pregnant from the rape.”

  I let out a loud gasp and covered my mouth. Damn, Kyla! I felt so embarrassed and completely ridiculous.

  “I’m really sorry, Steph. I didn’t put it together. I feel so silly,” I said, looking down at my hands. I felt like someone had given me a two-piece puzzle that I wasn’t able to put together.

  “Don’t worry about it. Eventually, I end up telling some people. There are times when I lie and tell people that he’s dead. Usually that’s when I know I’m not going to have a lasting relationship with someone.” She sat back down next to me. “But when I feel close enough to tell someone, I do.”

  I was scared to open my mouth with the fear of something stupid coming out. She tugged at my ponytail.

  “Don’t feel bad, Ky. Really. How would you have known?”

  “I know. I just don’t like to invade people’s privacy and you didn’t have to tell me if you didn’t want to. I was being nosy.”

  “You asked and I didn’t want to lie to you.”

  I was glad she wasn’t mad at me. But then I went ahead and let the vodka do more talking for me anyway.

  “Is that why you don’t date? You don’t trust men anymore?” I asked.

  “Right now I’m going to concentrate on Jaron, school, and work. But, remember, I didn’t say I don’t date. I just haven’t had a relationship in a while. I haven’t found too many people I’m interested in spending that kind of time with.”

  “You don’t have anyone in mind?” I asked. She just smiled and sucked on an ice cube. I guess she was done opening up for the evening.

  Still feeling bad about the misunderstanding, I decided to invite Steph over for dinner.

  “Hey, Steph, how about you and Jaron coming by my mom’s house for dinner tomorrow? We try to get together at least one Sunday a month to hang out and catch up. Usually it’s just my parents, my sister, and me. But I’d love for you to join us.”

  “We don’t have any plans tomorrow so we’d love to. What should I bring?”

  “Don’t worry about that. My mother has it all taken care of. I’ll pick you up around three?”

  “We’ll be ready,” she said.

  By this time it was nearing midnight and definitely time that I get home.

  “Let me get out of here, Steph, it’s been a long day,” I said.

  Steph checked the clock on the end table. “You’re right, it’s late. And I told you I don’t like to be up late unless I’m doing other things,” she said with the corner of her mouth tilted upward.

  “Yeah, okay,” was all I came up with in response. We hugged good-bye and I could smell a hint of a soft, musky perfume behind her ears. It was a sensual, delicate scent against her skin.

  I went to bed that night thinking about the warmth of Stephanie’s personality, smile, and her tender embrace. I hugged my pillow tight in remembrance and fell into a peaceful sleep.

  4

  The next morning I phoned my mother to let her know that I was bringing guests. She asked if Steph was fat or skinny to make sure she had more than enough food prepared. Sometimes my mother can be a tad blunt—even tacky—with her questions and comments about people. Yvonne and I were used to it, but sometimes she’d catch unsuspecting folks off guard.

  Dinner at Gladyce’s was an event I always looked forward to. Partly because we were all so busy living our own lives that we didn’t get to see each other very often. But mostly because I got to see my parents together. I guess no matter how old I got or how long a divorce had been in place, it still felt good to have a family gathering, even if it’s only pretend.

  Although both my parents seemed happy with their lives, I think they enjoyed the monthly gatherings just as much as Yvonne and I did. Only once did my dad make the mistake of asking my mother if he could bring a friend of his along. My mother said she didn’t mind because her home was welcome to everyone. Well, almost everyone.

  When my dad showed up with a female friend, my mother lost all her Christianity. That was one of the moments she caught an unsuspecting person off guard and it took several months of groveling for my dad to be invited to dinner again. So, despite the divorce, I guess my mother wasn’t interested in seeing my father fancy another woman.

  After I picked up Jaron and Steph, we rode to my mom’s house and arrived to a spotless home that smelled of baked barbecue chicken, collard greens, macaroni and cheese, corn on the cob, and sweet potato pie. Sometimes I got overwhelmed with childhood memories when I entered Gladyce’s house, the home I grew up in. Even with the new leather furniture and redecorated walls, I easily slipped back into a childlike mode.

  My dad arrived shortly after we did and after introductions and a peck on Gladyce’s rosy cheek, he took Jaron out for a game of horse. Stephanie and I were setting the dining room table when the interrogation began.

  “How old are you, Stephanie?” my mother asked from the kitchen.

  “Twenty-seven, ma’am,” Steph replied.

  My mother waved off Steph’s attempt at politeness with a hand in the air. “Oh, don’t ma’am me, honey. Gladyce, please. How old is Jaron?”

  “He’s nine.”

  I could hear Gladyce doing the math in her head and I anticipated the next question.

  “So you’re marr—”

  I cut her off. “Looks like we’re all set here. Steph, do you mind getting the men?”

  Her expression was a look of relief and her eyes whispered, “Thank you.” When she went outside to get Jaron and my dad, I cornered Gladyce in the kitchen.

  “Ma, I know you’d like to get to know my friend, but let’s hold off on the twenty questions with Steph, especially about Jaron’s father. That’s a sensitive subject and I just learned about it myself. Now isn’t the time, okay?”

  Gladyce almost looked hurt. My mom was such a sweet person and to
ok delight in getting to know people. Her forwardness was a result of a true desire to be close to others.

  “All right, honey. I wasn’t trying to be nosy,” she reasoned.

  “I know, Ma. But we’ll talk about it another time.”

  Yvonne arrived as Steph was coming inside with the men.

  “Yvonne, this is my friend, Stephanie. Steph, this is my sister, Yvonne,” I said as they shook hands. “And this young man is Jaron.”

  Jaron took hold of Yvonne’s hand to shake it. “Hi,” he said brightly.

  “Hey, cutie,” she replied. She turned her attention back to Steph. “You look so familiar to me,” she said, thinking about where she may know her.

  Steph thought for a moment with no recollection of Yvonne. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure. From where?”

  Yvonne continued to stare at Steph. “I’m not sure either, but it’ll come to me,” she said confidently.

  I finally gave my sister a hug before we finished setting the dining room table. Yvonne and I weren’t what you’d call close sisters, although we loved each other tremendously and talked as often as our schedules allowed. But we just didn’t have that much in common. When she wasn’t busy making sure shelves we stocked and checking on the cleanup in aisle six, the girl spent all her time doing crossword puzzles and bowling with her league. I swear they bowled at least three nights a week.

  Once, she convinced me to join the league because all her fat, beer-belly friends hadn’t met the sister she talked about and wondered if I truly existed. I lasted two games.

  I had enough squinting my eyes through the smoke to see the pins and slapping five every time someone got a spare or a strike. And when I busted my ass on a well-oiled lane, I was done. I quickly realized that one had to have a true love for the sport to participate in the game as often as she wanted me to. And I clearly was not the one. Give me a remote in one hand and a glass of wine in the other and I’m good to go.

  When we sat for dinner, Jaron, far from a shy child, led us in a cute prayer, thanking God for the food on the table and for the new friend his mom found. We all wolfed down Gladyce’s cooking until we were good and full. There’s nothing like home cooking.

  As we were cleaning the table and preparing to wash dishes, Yvonne blurted out, “Chickpeas.” We all looked at her wondering what in the hell she was talking about. Her eyes were planted on Stephanie.

  “You came into my store looking for chickpeas.”

  Steph thought for a moment until her mouth dropped open. “You’ve got a serious memory on you,” she responded. “Yes, that sure was you that helped us find them. Wow, that was at least two years ago. I haven’t made hummus in so long.”

  Yvonne looked proud. “That’s my job. I never forget a customer.”

  “I’ll have to make sure I shop at your store more often,” Steph said.

  Yvonne blushed. My sister took a lot of pride in running her store. Her goal is to be district manager within two years. At times, my parents urged her to go to school at least part-time, but it went in one ear and out the other.

  After we polished off the sweet potato pie it was seven-thirty and time to get Jaron home and ready for bed. I thanked my mother for a great dinner as usual. I told my dad I would talk to him soon, and Yvonne and I made lunch plans for Wednesday that week.

  “You have a really nice family,” Stephanie said as I pulled onto Interstate 43. “Thanks for saving me back there. You can guess I get that ‘married’ question a lot.”

  “I can imagine,” I replied.

  “It’s easy to say, No, I’m not married. But then there are those people that won’t let it end there. They want to know if I’m divorced or widowed, anything but never married.”

  Steph turned in her seat to find Jaron bobbing his head up and down and mouthing lyrics to whatever song was playing through the headphone of his CD player. “One time,” she continued, whispering, “I actually told the truth to a woman I barely knew just to see her reaction. Told her I was raped coming home one night and got pregnant as a result. She laughed and slapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘You’re such a kidder.’ I just walked away. I think some people really don’t want to know about some of the things that go on around them. People are so good at saying such-and-such is a shame and how it’s so sad that something bad happened. But rarely do these people step up to the plate and take a stand to prevent those things from happening again. I’m not going to be one of those people oohing and aahing a cause but doing nothing about it.”

  “I agree with you.”

  “That’s why I want to concentrate on human rights,” she said. “We all deserve the chance to live the best possible lives without society and politicians telling us what we can or cannot do with ourselves, our bodies, and our lives.”

  “Amen.”

  Steph seemed deep in thought as she looked out of the window. I was glad to have someone like her to talk about these issues with. She helped me to feel more secure with the major I decided on.

  “Do you think you’ll ever get married, Steph? Don’t you want to find a father for Jaron?”

  She smiled to herself, a habit I noticed she had. Not a bad habit, though.

  “I doubt it,” she said, shrugging. “Every so often he seems a little sad when he talks about the camping trips his friends took with their dads. I’m trying very hard to fill any void he may have and I’m doing the best I can.”

  She paused and turned and looked directly at me. I tried to meet her stare but I didn’t want to crash into the SUV in front of us.

  “Plus, the chances of me finding a man I’d actually marry are slim to none. More like zero.”

  “Whatever, Stephanie. As pretty and smart as you are, any man would be lucky to have you.”

  She looked down and started picking her cuticles.

  “Kyla, I know we’ve only known each other a couple of weeks, but I feel like we’re headed toward a great friendship. So I don’t want to feel like I’m keeping anything from you.” She took a deep breath and stared at the sky through my open sunroof. “I don’t want to marry a man. I’m gay.”

  I looked straight ahead at the freeway, then out of my side window and then back at her. It probably looked like I was shaking my head but I wasn’t. I think I was in mild shock and I just couldn’t believe it. Very quickly I replayed several of our conversations in my head and remembered how vague she was when we talked about her dating. She shared no stories of guys she dated or when her heart had been broken. Or her seeing a fine man in the elevator that she’d wished she had said hello to. Nothing. And that’s when it really set in that her child was not the result of a union of two people in love, but rather an invasion of not only her body, but also a violation of her sexuality. Gay? How could she be gay? She was too pretty. It wasn’t like I didn’t know any gay people, but most of the gay women I had seen dressed like men. Here was a girl who could have any guy she wanted. Why would she want a woman?

  All of these thoughts ran though my mind in about fifteen seconds, but I’m sure the silence felt like hours to Steph. I couldn’t think of anything clever or funny to say to ease the tension, so for once I said exactly what I was thinking.

  “That’s fine with me, Steph. I like you for who you are, not who you like.”

  She looked so relieved. I was proud of myself.

  “I should have known I didn’t have to be nervous about telling you. I wanted to bring it up a while ago, but then again, I don’t know why I feel like I have to announce it to people. I mean, straight people don’t shake hands and say, ‘Hi, I’m heterosexual.’ You know what I’m saying? I shouldn’t have to tell someone I’m gay to make sure they’re okay with it. But if I don’t, then they feel like I hid something from them when they find out. It’s a silly game I have to play on a daily basis.”

  When we arrived at Steph’s place, she picked up her black Coach purse, and the take-home plate Gladyce insisted she have.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Kyla?” she asked
cautiously.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound like I was trying too hard to be polite. “You’re not the only gay person I know. You know, everybody has a gay cousin or uncle in the family!”

  She laughed and winked at me. I winked back.

  “See you in the morning,” she said, smiling.

  “Jaron, I’ll see you soon for some one-on-one?” I asked as he got out of the car and took his headphones off. He looked at his mom for approval. She nodded.

  “Okay!” he exclaimed.

  I waited until they were safely inside her place before driving home, my head spinning. Stephanie’s announcement came as a shock, but the biggest surprise was in me. The fact that she was gay made her even more intriguing. I wondered what it was like for her growing up gay. Did she always know she was like that? What did her parents say when they found out? Did Jaron know? I had a million and one questions.

  Then I wondered if I somehow knew it subconsciously, but didn’t want to acknowledge it for one reason or another. I liked talking with her, being close to her and looking into her eyes. And I felt butterflies whenever she winked at me. I felt different when I was with her, compared to when I was with Tori or Vanessa. Her naturally loving and nurturing personality made me feel comfortable in a way that made me want to be close to her. Physically near her.

  I quickly stopped myself from analyzing the situation. What was I doing? In the last hour I had gone from having a good friend to questioning myself on whether or not I liked her, simply because she told me that she was gay. I needed to get a grip.

  And I meant what I said about the gay cousin or uncle thing. In my family, it was my cousin David. David was my mother’s nephew, the son of my Aunt Shari. David was the stereotypical gay male, “flaming” as he put it. He spent a lot of time with Yvonne and me when we were kids, and although he was four years my senior, we never had a hard time bonding. That’s probably because he enjoyed playing “dress up” more than we did. I don’t think any adults in the family ever questioned David’s sexuality, so he never officially had to come out. Everyone just knew.