The Forever and The Now, page 10
“Mum, stop it. You’re so angry that you can’t even see that I’m happy. I’m happy!” Kate brought her hand down, and just before it smacked onto the white tablecloth, her hand slowed so her palm pressed lightly next to her plate. Tiny. “I wasn’t happy for 10 years.”
Olivia exhaled in contrast to Kate’s inhalation. Both of equal strength. “But of course you were happy. You and Neil are delightful together.”
I noted the use of present tense. Olivia really, really hadn’t let go; her need to live vicariously through Kate’s marriage was deeply ingrained.
“No, I’m happy now. I live, Mum, truly live more than I ever have before because I own my decisions. My marriage was basically your decision.” Olivia stiffened. “I really didn’t have decision-making power in my marriage.”
The straight line of Olivia’s lips slashed across her face. “Katherine.” It was almost, not quite, but almost a hiss; the type people do when someone is eavesdropping. Tiny hiss. “You’re embarrassing me with my friends and you’re behaving like a teenager. People ask after you and I have to tell them that you’re divorced. You’re nearly fifty, for heaven’s sake.”
God, this woman was a throwback to the 1960s. Imagine if Kate came out to her as well. It’d send her dashing for the smelling salts, a cup of tea, Bex, then she’d need a good lie down on the couch. I saw what Kate meant about picking her coming out moment, and I felt like a right arsehole for pushing.
“Yes, I am nearly fifty, which means I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I choose my direction.” I wanted to squeeze her thigh.
“You simply need a husband. A husband like Neil. He can give you love and understanding.” Olivia shook her head and began to collect plates and cutlery, and my mouth decided to join in the discussion. Because of course it did.
“She has it,” I said quietly, gazing at Olivia and ignoring Kate’s very tiny whisper.
“Bron.” The word rippled softly.
Olivia stood, her hands clutching the small pile of crockery. “Pardon?”
“She has love and understanding.” I stood as well, lacing my fingers through the stems of the wine glasses. I felt, rather than saw, Kate push her chair away and suddenly the three of us stood frozen as if replicating a scene from a Wild West stand-off.
“Who from?”
“Me.” I walked in to the kitchen to settle the glasses on the counter. Walking was good. Excellent.
Olivia laughed as she followed me, arranged the plates in the dishwasher, then patted my arm. “It’s lovely that you’re her friend and I appreciate the love of a friend. Why, I have many friends that I love but a woman needs a man on her arm.” She nodded wisely, then beamed. “Do you have someone special, Bron?”
There was a strangled cough from the dining room, and I wanted to turn and mouth, “It’s okay.” It would be incredibly unfair if I answered Olivia’s question with the whole truth. I might have done some questionable things in my life, but outing someone without their consent was not one of them.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” And that’s all I’m going to say.
Olivia turned her smile to Kate, who, now that I looked properly, wore the stark features of a cartoon character; large eyes filled with apprehension and a white-as-milk face. It looked like she was about to pass out.
“See? There you are, Katherine. Your friend has a special man.” Her face wore the confidence of someone who was convinced they were right. “You’ll have saved Neil’s telephone number, of course, so why not ring him tonight and wish him a Merry Christmas. It’s polite and a step forward in reestablishing your marriage.”
Kate slid her gaze to me; holding it for a long moment.
The conversation for the next hour reverted to tiny so it wasn’t difficult to carry it, deflecting Olivia with blather about school and curriculum and the state of today’s youth while Kate hummed at appropriate moments and breathed.
The drive home, to mine, was quiet, filling the car with expanses of silence which were comfortable, yet not. My fingers curled tightly on the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry.” My murmur floated across the space between us where the gear stick and hand brake squatted, right into Kate’s lap. “I’m sorry for being a shit and pushing and not believing you when you said it would be next to impossible to come out at the moment.”
I released the wheel and laid my hand, palm up, on her thigh. I didn’t dare turn my head. It was Kate’s decision so I focused on the blue and white cat’s eye markers dotted along the line in the centre of the road.
“You were being difficult, Bron. Impatient,” Kate said, her words chased by a heavy sigh which drifted aimlessly, making me feel like it carried more than frustration at me. It was a sigh that held Kate’s sadness at her mother’s inability to accept the truth, at Neil’s seemingly constant presence in her life.
Then her hand slipped into mine and she squeezed my fingers. “Thank you for apologising.”
I gave a singular nod. “It was necessary. The apology.”
“Mm. It was.”
We held hands until I had to flick the indicator and other important car-related actions. If I’d been able to lean over and operate the various functions one-handed, I would have. I would have probably killed us.
“You know? Those friends Mum was talking about. They’re the sort who are dismissive of gay people, yet have a curiosity that borders…” She squeezed my fingers again. “It’s like a warped fascination. So if I come out, they’ll crawl back to find out the juicy details. To peer at me as if I’m an oddity in a circus.”
“Really? That’s so—”
“Outdated?”
“Yeah. Don’t they have gay friends?”
“Oh, yes. Gay male friends who they view as camp and harmless, ready to be called upon for fashion advice or a fun shopping trip. They’re seen as accessories, rather than real people. Real people who have a sexuality. Real people who are whole and flawed and unique. The gay men in my friend’s lives, in many of my social and collegial circle, are viewed as sexless and harmless.”
I shook my head. “I’ve seen that.” Taking my hand quickly off the steering wheel, I pointed. “Bet their reaction to lesbianism is so, so different.”
“Uh huh. Lesbians are predatory animals who will make a move on any woman in the vicinity and therefore should be vilified because otherwise no-one is safe.”
“Far out.” I turned into the street. “They’ve got tickets on themselves. As if every queer woman wants to get into their pants. I mean, I’ve seen it before. That,” I wiggled my hand, “weird dichotomy with gay men viewed as safe and sexless and lesbians viewed as hunters who are going to leap on any straight woman and have their way with them.”
Kate snorted. “I certainly don’t want to.” Then she hummed. “Your family literally threw a parade for you when you came out. At 20, right?” She didn’t wait for confirmation. “It’s been easy for you, Bron. I don’t think you appreciate it. I’m coming out at forty-nine after ten years of marriage to a man, and when I do, I expect a huge backlash, not only because of my age, but because of my supposed place in society and the firm.” She exhaled through her nose. “The firm.”
Yanking the handbrake up as I put the car into park, I turned to her, the streetlight casting shadows across Kate’s features. I was right; she did look unbearably sad. Yet thoughtful. Yet determined. Like she’d made a monumental decision
She swept up my hand, holding it at her chest. “I know I’ve been all over the place with this. The coming out.”
I smiled internally. It sounded like Kate had laid some serious capitalisation at the start of those words.
Kate looked out of the windscreen, then back to me. “Will you come with me to the Veris New Year’s Eve party?”
I blinked for a moment, then shrugged. “Absolutely. How fancy do I need to be?”
“Black tie.”
I dropped my head back on to the headrest. “Oh, gees.”
There was not a single laugh at my theatrics, so I rolled my head sideways.
“I’m…” Kate trailed off and I sat up, a frown taking up residence on my forehead. “I’d…” It was as if she couldn’t get her car off the starting grid. “I think I might say something.”
“A speech?” It was odd to have stuttered sentences for something as innocuous as addressing her colleagues at a work do. I assumed Kate gave speeches all the time as part of the position she held.
Kate, still clutching my hand, pressed it to her chest. Hard, as if gathering strength. “More like a statement,” she whispered.
I blinked again. “Um, okay. I’ll definitely be there for the free drinks, food, and your co—” The realisation was thunderous in my head. “Really?” My eyes were huge. Gee, I could be obtuse sometimes.
“Mm.” A deep breath. “As you said, I’m old enough and I’ve had a year to think about it.”
I winced. “I’m sorry for saying that.”
“Well, it was certainly blunt, but I did take it on board, then umm-ed and ahh-ed about it all.” The determined glint in her eyes flashed again.
“Kate…”
“So.” She inhaled all of the oxygen in the car. “I think this will be easier than coming out to my mother. But let’s see how brave I am on the night. I’m all talk now but I could fall in a heap.”
“I’ll catch you,” I whispered.
Kate, leaning over the angled handbrake, started the kiss softly, but she ran her tongue along my bottom lip and I groaned, opening my mouth for her to slip inside. My hands fluttered next to her cheeks, but Kate wasn’t so shy; grasping my head, sliding one hand around the back of my neck and kissing me senseless.
We broke apart, breathing heavily. “I know you will.” Kate wriggled, pointing down to the handbrake. “Ow.”
I chuckled. “Also.” I pointed to the fogged-up windows.
“Well, now I don’t feel forty-nine.” She reached over and collected her bag. “Perhaps sixteen?”
“Ah, those were the days.” That earned me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Come on. There are presents to bring upstairs, and maybe a repeat performance of that kiss.”
We Announced
December 31 to January 3 in the first and second years of the now
I imagined that any Veris party could never be anything but black tie, as everyone in the gala room looked entirely comfortable in their tuxes, and gowns, and skyscraper heels. I’d hauled out my black tux complete with mandarin collar, buttons in burgundy and the pants sporting a thin pinstripe down the outside seam. I adored the minimalist style of the collar because it appealed to my inner artist, but I also knew that a mandarin collar wasn’t supposed to be worn to a black tie event. So I was breaking the tuxedo rules; tuxedo time-out for me. I couldn’t have cared less. From the way Kate was lasciviously eyeing me up at her place, she didn’t care about black tie rules either.
Meanwhile, I was too busy staring, dumbstruck, as Kate, dressed in a black velvet dress with long sleeves and an asymmetrical neckline that exposed so much skin at her neck and shoulders, sauntered out from the bedroom accessorised by a clutch purse, a raised eyebrow, and a smirk.
“Oh, Jesus. Fuck me.” I raked my eyes down her body, taking in the hair twisted into a showy-yet-not style, to all that skin, to her breasts and curves and legs and her shoes which were black stilettos with thin, barely there, straps that tied about her ankles. I’d never seen anyone, anyone, look so amazing, so fucking sexy, and because I was wearing men’s shoes, we were the same height and the instructions for how to breathe fell out of my head.
“I would gladly, sweetheart, because you look edible and there are all sorts of images running through my mind right now.” She leaned in and kissed my mouth, pulling away to run her thumb along my bottom lip, whisking away the smudge of lipstick. “But we should get this show on the road.” A flash of anxiety zipped across her face.
“You know.” I reached for her hand. “You don’t have to do this. Yes, I’ve been a pain about coming out. Yes, I take my experience for granted. But if this is not the right time, then don’t.”
She wiggled our joined hands. “I figured that I spend the majority of my day with these people, therefore I spend the majority of my day lying and hiding and denying and it’s exhausting, so telling them means I can get on with my work, get on with the business of being me.”
I kissed her knuckles. “I will be with you the entire night. Right there. Being Kate’s person.”
She smiled, her eyes twinkling, then indicated with her chin towards the hall table where two red cranes sat. “Hope, because tonight is floating a little on that abstract noun.” Kate let out an unsteady breath. “And healing during challenging times, because if this isn’t a challenging time, I don’t know what is. I hope I’m not in pieces after tonight.”
I couldn’t reassure her or dismiss her fears, because I didn’t know how her coming out experience would pan out. Crystal ball, anyone? But I’d be there.
My bridge knew about my commitment because I’d said so as I stared at it for about twenty minutes yesterday. With my arms stretched out on the back of the bench, feet stretched out in front of me, my brain emptied like it always did, leaving all the important thoughts such as Kate and Christmas and love and commitment. And Kate. So much beautiful, regal, gorgeous Kate. Visiting my bridge always shone a spotlight on the awesome, allowing the awful to disappear for a bit.
The open double doors to the gala room on the fifteenth floor of the Veris building welcomed one and all and I was eternally grateful I’d chosen the tux and not my dinner suit. I’d attended a few flash evening events during my career; Teacher of the Year award, Education Department Gala, that sort of thing, but this was another level. As befitting a high-flying accountancy firm, the people in the room advertised their wealth through their clothing, their accessories, their mere presence, and as I’d discovered over the year I’d known Kate accountancy didn’t mean tax returns. Not at Veris. At Veris, there was always a person who oversaw a team, such as the team who looked after risk management accountants and profitability analysis accountants and the auditing consultants who disappeared from Veris for a week to tidy up a business that was imploding on itself. That person was Kate.
It was a lot, and I’d felt very insignificant as if my career lacked importance in comparison. That feeling only lasted for a little while after I gave myself a severe talking to about the art of teaching and educating the minds and creativity of small children and—Kate had been furious when she’d heard my ridiculous self-doubts, reminding me of the time ages ago when we sat on the bench at the bridge and she’d told me that our jobs were not a competition. So I entered the fancy-schmancy Veris New Year’s Eve party with my head held high.
“Kate! So thrilled you’re here!” The woman wrapped her hand around Kate’s forearm and air-kissed each cheek. “I was just telling Henry that I simply must find you tonight.” I looked askance at the woman. People who state that they simply must find someone are either bail bond agents or stalkers.
“Oh? Well, you’ve found me.” Kate sounded done with the conversation already. The woman, decked out in red including her hair, laughed lightly.
“I wanted to pass on my…” her forehead wrinkled as she attempted to finish the sentence, “thoughts for your divorce. I mean, you’ve been in my thoughts.” Kate’s eyes looked ready to roll and I was happy to join her.
“Thank you, Francesca. It was for the best.” The tight, please-leave-me-alone, smile fell onto Kate’s lips.
Then Francesca registered my presence. She stuck out her hand, limp as if a dead fish had attached itself to the end of her arm. “And you’re here with Kate?” It was one of those questions where the person is supposed to supply the actual answer, then introduce themselves, then compliment the dress.
During my brief handshake, which was like testing whether pasta was al dente, my responses followed protocol. “I am, Francesca. My name is Bron, and that’s a lovely dress.” She beamed.
“Thank you. And how do you know Kate?”
The sixty-four thousand dollar question. I turned to Kate. Her answer would create my road map for the remainder of the evening.
“Bron is my friend.”
Right. Okay. Well, baby steps. Friend was very close to girlfriend so we were getting there.
Shaking off Francesca and her weird condolences-but-not-really commentary, we made our way farther into the room, Kate clutching a supportive Champagne. I could tell she was itching to hold my hand or touch my forearm but she was hyper-aware and this impacted on her ability to maintain normal conversation. Not that anyone really noticed. I was introduced as Kate’s friend, people hummed and nodded and smiled and strung together a few sentences about fiscal funds or something. On a few occasions, I was able to discuss teaching and education as a social construct which was pleasing, but generally I listened to Kate drift in the currents of her particular pool of expertise. It was all very sexy and I worked hard on reining in my admiration and lust.
Then she directed us towards six people, each with a glass filled to various levels, and we were absorbed into the group.
“Bron, this is Justin, Leo, Kia, and Rita.” She tipped her glass during each introduction, then caught my eye. “They’re the senior team leaders in my division.” The team leaders shook my hand, Leo and Rita introduced their partners who smiled, then gestured that they were off to the bar and would anyone like more drinks and that they’d leave us to chat about work. Sounded like an escape plan to me and I grinned to myself.
“Lovely to meet you in person.”
Kate had mentioned her team very briefly but I was a visual person so this was much more effective. “This is quite the party, isn’t it? I’ve never been to such an elaborate do,” I said, catching Rita’s eye, smiling into her open face. In fact, all four of them, with their open faces and genuine smiles, closed about us, like witches casting circles of protective energy, and squared their shoulders as if they would be rather irritated if someone else wandered into our space. They came across as a nice, friendly team who would back Kate in any new idea or decision she’d share at—
