The Love Sucks Club (11 page)

Blinking in the bright light, it takes me a minute to realize where
I am. Banging my head back against the chair, I shake both fists in the air.
“Come on. I’m sick of this shit.”
Esmé
is still
sitting on the floor in front of me.

“I saw it, too,” she says.

“That wasn’t a vision, it was a memory.” Shrugging her off, I walk
into the kitchen and hold my head under the faucet to drink some water. If that
was just a meditation-induced memory, than why does my body hurt so much?

Esmé
has followed me into the
kitchen
.“
She
didn’t die in that
crash, though.” It isn’t a question. She knows how Fran died.

Without looking at her, I shake my head.

“What else happened?”

“We were taken to the hospital.”

“And?”

“And I decided I didn’t want a car anymore.”

“The crash really wasn’t your fault.”

“I was stopped in the middle of the road,” I snarl at her.

“What else?”

Whirling around, I glare at her.
“None of your
fucking business.
This has nothing to do with you. I want you to leave
my house and I don’t want you to come back.”

Standing her ground, she points her finger in my face. “It has
everything to do with me. Fran left me because she thought she was a danger to
me. If she thought she was a danger to you, why didn’t she leave you, too?”

“She did,” I said, deflated. “She did leave me.”

She backs against the kitchen wall and stares at the floor.
Silent, we ignore each other for a few moments. Finally, I brush past her on my
way to my bedroom. “Get out,” I say flatly, without looking at her. “Get out of
my fucking house.”

I slam into my bedroom without waiting to see if she complies.

Chapter Nine

Dr. Brawley’s receptionist sounds entirely too cheerful when she
answers the phone. I ask to speak to the doctor, but she’s with a patient.

“Okay, fine. I need to make an appointment then.”

“We have a cancellation at three o’clock today. Can you make it
then?”

“Sure, just let me check my calendar.” I stare at the wall for a
few moments. I figure, they make me wait when I’m there, I might as well take
the advantage while I have it. “Three will be fine.”

“Thank you, Ms.
McComb
. See you this afternoon,”
she chirps.

I’m half-tempted to just stay in bed until this afternoon, but I
drag myself out of bed and head to the kitchen to feed Frank. A text to Sam
confirms that she can take me to the doctor. Another text gets me a walking
date with Roxanne. She shows up at my house in a light jacket and matching yoga
pants. She looks fit and trim and for a second, I can see why I was hitting on
her the other night.

We walk down the hill a bit to a path we created through the
woods. It winds around until we crest the other side of the hill and look out
over the sea. With scenery like this, it’s sometimes hard to imagine how I can
still have stress in my life. Roxanne is easy company, perhaps picking up my
contemplative mood. Walking in silence, enjoying the woods and the view of the
water is helping to clear my mind. On an incline, we pick up the pace to add
some cardio to the walk. Roxanne pushes us until we’re breathing heavily. I’m
the one who finally slows us down.

Panting, I lift the bottom of my tank top and use it to wipe my
face. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Roxanne laughs. “I’m twenty years older than you. You should be
ashamed that I am in better shape.”

“It must be all of the hookers and blow. I just can’t sustain that
rock star lifestyle and still keep up with you.”

We reach our favorite stopping point, but Roxanne keeps going.
Mopping my face, I struggle to keep up with her. I’m calculating the return
walk in my head already. Smiling, Roxanne glances at me over her shoulder.
“Come on,” she laughs. “We’re doing an extra mile today.”

“We’ve already gone at least an extra half mile. By the time we
get back, that will be an extra mile.”

“Stop complaining. I have
another half mile after we get to your house.”
“I’ll drive you home.”

She laughs again. “Dana, it isn’t like you to be so
anti-exercise.”

She’s right. I usually love a good hike. I’ve got to get my mind
right. Being all wrapped up in my anxiety is bad for my body. Taking a few deep
breaths to clear my head, I catch up to Roxanne and keep pace with her until
she turns around. On the way back to my house, we keep up a pace that precludes
conversation. At my front door,
Rox
gives me a quick
hug and starts to leave.

“Wait, Roxanne.”

Turning back, she gives me a sympathetic look. “Yes?”

“About the other night...”

“It’s fine. You were in a bad place. I get that way, too.”

“Lonely?”

“Yep.”

“Depressed, anxious, and wracked
with terrifying nightmares?”

She laughs.
“Maybe not that bad.”

“I think I’m a wreck.”

“You’re not a wreck. You just need to readjust your mindset.”

“That’s one of those platitudes
that’s
easy enough to say.”

“That attitude is what I’m talking about,” she says.

We walk into my kitchen and I pour us both a glass of water.
Wandering into the front room,
I
 
plop
onto the couch and gaze out
across the sea. Roxanne lowers herself gracefully beside me, waiting for an
answer.

Finally, I sigh. “I don’t think I have an attitude. I think I have
some genuinely shitty stuff going on in my life right now.”

“I’m not saying that you don’t. I’m sure I don’t know the half of
it. What I do know is that spending all of your time worrying about what’s
going on does nothing but make it worse. Instead of just dealing with problems
when they happen, you’re anticipating them. So, you get to be upset about the same
situation over and over again. And if nothing comes of it? You’ve still made
yourself sick and anxious worrying over something that may not come to pass.”

Sipping my water, I let her words sink in. I’m well aware that I’m
pouting and I’m also aware that
Rox
knows it. Playing
around with a response, I realize that everything I want to say just
adds
to her belief that I’m choosing to feel this way.
Finally, I put my water glass down on the table and turn to face her. “There is
a part of me that thinks all of this shit is just karma for what I did to
Fran?”

She places her hand on my shoulder. “What did you do to Fran?”

The words I’ve been swallowing are sitting in my chest like a
rock. Blinking back tears, I look at Roxanne. “I killed her.”

She puts her arms around me and cradles me while I cry. For a few
minutes, I’m trying to gather myself. Butches don’t cry. Scolding
myself
doesn’t help. All I can think about is the way
Roxanne’s arms feel around me and how much I need this.

It was a beautiful, sunny day. In my memory, I always want it to
be a dark and stormy night. In my book, it was. It had a whole “Hemingway to
die alone in the rain” kind of feel. In real life, however, it was about
seventy-five degrees and sunny. There was a nice cool breeze. The day probably
started with a rainbow. It was as if Mother Nature herself was conspiring to
make me think that life was perfect. That bitch. Fran had been acting weird for
several days. Well, in Fran’s case, I should say, weirder than usual. She was
always a little strange and that was one of the things I loved about her. This
was different, though. She kept starting and stopping sentences. She’d sit down
in front of me and tell me that she wanted to try a new communication technique
that her therapist had mentioned. I like to think that I was always open to
trying whatever she wanted, but in the back of my mind, I have to admit that I
thought most of it was ridiculous. Still, I wanted her happy. A happy Fran was
a wondrous thing. She floated around me in a golden haze, dropping magic on my
head. She changed me in those moments. She made me believe in a fairy tale
world where I could live happily ever after.

That day, though, Fran was not happy. She bounced around the
house, starting the dishes, moving to the bedroom, she got out some furniture
polish and started taking books off the shelves, and when that failed to keep
her interest, she announced that my baseboards were shockingly filthy and
plopped down on her hands and knees to wash them with vinegar and water. I had
a deadline for the article I was writing and I didn’t have time to cajole her
out of a mood. I just sat there at my computer getting annoyed as she knocked
around from room to room, slamming things around and muttering to herself. When
her frenzied activity became too disturbing, I finally told her she had to go.
I couldn’t write with her bouncing around like that. She stood silently and
looked at me for the longest time. I could feel her eyes on my back, but I
didn’t turn around to engage. I knew if my eyes left my article, I would be
sucked into whatever was going on with her. Finally, she whispered something to
me. It didn’t register what she had said and I didn’t ask her to repeat it. I
told her I would call her the next day. When she left, I actually breathed a
sigh of relief. As much as I loved her, I found her bad moments exhausting and
dealing with her while she
pinballed
around the world
left me feeling drained. With her gone, I instantly switched my mind back to my
work and for a few hours, she didn’t even exist. Later, much later, I missed
her and regretted sending her away, but at the time, I was relieved.

Roxanne is stroking my hair and I’m aware that my tears have
subsided. She pushes some hair out of my face and I sit up, embarrassed by my
outburst. Sensing my mood, she’s quiet. She hands me a box of tissues and I
blow my nose loudly. We both laugh a little when it makes a big honking noise
and for a second, the tension is broken. Roxanne weaves her fingers through
mine and I look up at her. She’s looking at me affectionately and I realize I
have no reason to be ashamed. The soft lines around her bright eyes only add to
her gentle beauty. Reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, our
eyes meet and I lean forward to kiss her on the mouth. Her lips part slightly
and I move in closer, wrapping my arms around her slender frame. Leaning into
me, she shifts slightly to allow our bodies more contact. She feels firm under
my hands and the heat starts in the base of my spine. It’s been far too long
since I’ve had sex with anyone and even longer since I’ve had good sex. After
Voldemort and her own particular brand of me
me
me
lovemaking, I think I went into a shut down. Sex with
Roxanne would be different. She’s kind and loving and I can imagine it being
good – really good. Trying to shut my brain off is useless, but at least in
this case, my brain and my body appear to have reached an agreement. Pulling
Roxanne closer, I deepen the kiss, letting my hands slide down her back,
shifting myself again to get even closer. As I move one hand around to her
throat, she lets out a little whispered moan. Desire clenches around my gut and
I groan, pulling her onto my lap. She lets me, but once she’s on my lap, she
pulls back from my mouth, and grabs both of my hands, effectively stopping
their exploring.

“What?”

Smiling, she lets go of one of my hands, and kisses it. “You’re in
a very vulnerable place right now.”

“I’m in a very aroused place right now.”

She laughs, throwing her head back and I’m tempted to put my lips
to her throat. Before I can decide, she lowers her head to look at me again.
“I’m not denying the temptation. I just think that now would be a bad time to
give into it.”

“Who was it that said something about the only way to resist
temptation?”

“We’re not giving into it. I care about you. You’re a dear friend
and I’m here for you when you need me. I’m just not doing this.”

“Sometimes lovemaking is a beautiful expression of affection
between two people who care about each other. It doesn’t have to be anything
more than that.”

“I agree. Trust me. At my age, I’ve had my share of intimate
encounters with dear friends that were never meant to be anything other than a
beautiful night of lovemaking. I just don’t think you’re in the right place for
that.”

“Well, where the hell
am
I?”

Unfazed, she smiles again. “You need to figure that out on your
own.”

“Some help you are,” I pout, though I’m smiling.

“Listen Dana.
You told me that you killed
Fran. Since
we
both know that isn’t true, you need to
work on why you still have so much guilt over something that happened so many
years ago. You need to figure out what
Esmé
wants.
And you might want to work out what’s going on with your ex before she does
something drastic like kill you.”

“Well, that sounds easy enough. I’ll make a list and start
checking things off.”

“In the meantime, it might not be a bad idea for you to think
about seeing someone.”

Affronted, I try to make a joke of it. “I thought I might start
seeing you.”

“Our age difference alone would be a problem. Our attitude
difference would cement the doom.”

“Well, you sound as pessimistic and bitter as I do.”

She laughs. “You’re a good woman, Dana. You just need to do a
little soul cleaning.”

“Maybe I should join a commune.”

Standing, she leans down to kiss me on the forehead. “Maybe that’s
a good idea.”

I stand to give her a hug and she wraps her arms tightly around my
waist. Holding her, it occurs to me that this hug feels more intimate than
anything that happened in the last several years with my ex. Roxanne’s thin
arms feel solid around my waist and her face fits perfectly against my neck.
Breathing against the top of her head, I’m tempted again to try to take her to
bed. It wouldn’t be a bad fit to be with
Rox
. I mean,
yes, she is a lot older than I am, but she’s vibrant and active. She’s happy
and optimistic and she keeps an incredible garden. Between her organic
gardening and my incredible cooking, we’d be set for food. We could live here
overlooking the water and rent out her little house. She could retire for real
and spend her days with the garden and her creative tasks. She loves Frank, so
there’s another bonus. The entirety of our life together rushes through my mind
and in a heartbeat, I almost ask her to marry me. Reality stops me before I make
a fool of myself. One kiss doesn’t make a relationship. I swear
,
I’m starting to sound like a stereotypical lesbian. “No
U-Haul,” I mutter under my breath.

Leaning back to look at me, Roxanne smiles, her eyes crinkling up
at the corners.
“Never.
I’m so past that point in my
life.”