Chapter 5

Whitney

The garage door creaked and groaned while it closed behind me as I turned off the engine. Sort of like what my soul was going through right now. ‘A break,’ she had said. Is this a pause? A short intermission? Or are we done?

We had been doing so well. I had thought Jennifer would like how I was taking such an interest in the wellbeing of Madison. Lord knew I cared for her little girl. Almost as much as I cared for her.

I sat down in my chair, and Skipper came over and hopped into my lap. The desire to cry was there, to let it all out, but I was too dumbfounded to do so.

Was Jenn right? Was everything I had done for her out of pity and not out of love? Instinctively, my phone was in my hand, and I began texting.

Me: Help

Molly: What’s wrong?

Me: I think we broke up.

Molly: Think?

Me: She said she wanted a break

Molly: On my way

About thirty minutes later, my doorbell rang. “The ice cream lady is here.” Molly had four grocery sacks in her hands. She handed a couple to me as we headed for my kitchen. “Don’t eat this all at once, I cleared out the shelf. So, what happened?”

I produced a couple of spoons, and we both dove into a pint. But the gooey core was not doing it today.”I don’t know, Molly. I thought we were doing so well. But Jenn was grumpy all day at Madison’s surprise party, and at the end we broke up.”

“Are you sure that’s all?”

“Well, she thinks I did it out of pity, threw the party that is.”

“You threw the party, not her?”

“It was a surprise for both of them. I thought she would like it.”

“Whitney, Whitney, Whitney...” She set her pint and spoon down and began to rub her temples. “So, you didn’t include Jennifer in your plans for her daughter? Don’t you see how it could be a problem for her?”

“Now that you put it that way.” How could I have been so stupid? “Why do I keep doing stuff like this?”

“I don’t know. You get an idea in your head, and you go with it. Often, you don’t consult others. I know it made Heather mad many times. You’ve done it to me more than once as well.”

Ugh, I buried my face in my hands. I could feel the tears starting to flow as I sobbed. It was my fault. Molls gave me a hug.

“Text her, or maybe call her. Tell her you’re sorry. But don’t expect this to get over for a while. She might still want to be with you. I know how much she likes you. It was pretty clear up on the island how she feels about you. And you have a secret weapon in the munchkin. I think she totally adores her mom’s girlfriend.

“Yeah, but she is also starting to connect to her daddy. I saw Jenn watching Dallas a lot as well. I worry she might be having second thoughts.”

“You think she might return to her old boyfriend?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m worrying about everything right now.”

“Well, worry about the things you can control, and let everything else go. It’s all you can do.”

She was right, of course. Didn’t make it any easier though. Molls hung around for a while and kept me company. I curled up in bed. The smell of Jenn on her pillow caused me to cry some more. My phone buzzed and, hoping it was Jenn, I looked at it, but it was the phone company texting me, saying my monthly bill was ready. I scrolled through the various pictures of us I had on there. My thumb hovered over the message app, and moments later my fingers started to type.

Me: I’m sorry. I should have made the plans with you. I can be bullheaded at times. When you’re ready, can we talk?

There was no response from Jenn. Sleep came hard, and when it did, my pillow was rather damp from all the tears.

The next week at work was not easy. I had some meetings scheduled with the Maritime accounting team and had set them up to be over at their office, mainly so I could have an excuse to chat up Jenn. But now it was going to be uncomfortable going in and out of there. If I went in the side door and she noticed, I would be avoiding her, and if I went in through the front door, she might not want to see me.

Putting my big girl panties on, I did what I had to do and went through the front door. I was prepared to stop and chat, but Jenn was on the phone and simply gave me a small finger wave as I passed. Well, at least I got something from her.

Maintaining focus during my meeting was not easy. Every little noise had me looking at the door. And the topic of the meeting, planning for the visit from the auditors, was one I wanted to be distracted from. There was a reason I was in tax, not audit, back at the firm. I kept wondering, would Jenn pop her head in? Alas, it never happened. But my colleague did notice my unease during the meeting.

“Whitney, you look a bit distracted. You okay?” I looked at her and exhaled. I try to keep my personal life separate from work. Partially to be professional, and partially due to wanting to keep my distance as the future head of the company.

“Trying to be. Got in a, erm, disagreement with my girlfriend over the weekend. We sorta broke up.” I rolled my eyes and had a glum look on my face.

“Oh bummer. But why were you looking at the door all the time?”

“Well, I was half expecting, no wanting, her to come in. She is sitting in the reception area as we speak.”

“Why would your ex-girlfriend be in the lobby?” Then it dawned on me she didn’t know Jenn and I had been together.

“That’s where she works.”

“Wait, you were dating our Jennifer?”

I nodded my head.

“Why am I the last person on the planet to know these things? I didn’t even know she was gay. I knew you were. I remember you bringing a girlfriend to the company picnic when you were in high school.”

“I remember, Marci and I got busted by my dad for making out behind the groundskeepers’ shed at the park. We weren’t doing anything inappropriate at the time, just a little tonsil hockey.” Mainly because we hadn’t been there long enough to do something inappropriate, I thought to myself. But hey, we were both eighteen at the time; we could do what we wanted.

“Back to my question, you and Jennifer?”

“Yeah, I’m hoping we can figure things out, but she’s not talking to me right now. I think I need to give her some space. But I miss her already.”

“I really like working with her. I did notice she was a bit more subdued this morning. But we don’t interact much, a hello in the break room or when I come in and out. I’ll have to say hi and try to cheer her up. But I won’t mention you, unless she asks.”

“Thanks.” We wrapped things up, and when I left, her desk was empty. Must have been on break or something. I trudged back to my office. The weather matched my feelings. It was pouring rain and gloomy as all heck.

“I’m headed over to Maritime for another meeting. I should be back in an hour or so.” Vicki, the receptionist for the corporate office, looked at me as I started to open the door.

“Third time this week there, huh? You’ve been busy this week.”

“Yeah, that’s the understatement of the day.” I left the building for the walk down the block to Maritime. It was audit season, and there was a lot of prep to do. And I didn’t know these auditors very well. They were a couple I had met at various conferences and meetings but had not worked with them. Due to the head of Mitchell and Lombardi being married to the CEO of Whitney Enterprises, aka my Mom and Dad, my old firm could not issue an opinion on the financials of Whitney Enterprises. They could do the taxes and provide other consulting services, which they did. But not an Independent Auditor’s report, and that is what the bank wanted for our financing package.

As I walked in the front door, Jenn barely looked up from her computer as she was on the phone with someone. Like the two previous days, I got a small finger wave as I walked past. I won’t bore you with the details of my meeting. Suffice it to say, there were a lot of spreadsheets and checklists reviewed. Really tedious accountant stuff.

With our meeting wrapped up, I slung my packed computer bag over my shoulder and headed towards the front door. As I passed her desk, I glanced over and saw that she didn’t appear to be on the phone.

“Hi,” I said rather feebly.

I saw her eyes dance around the room, but we were alone for the moment. “Hi.” There was no life in her voice.

“Can we talk for a moment?”

“Is this work related or—?”

“About us.”

“I’m not ready to talk to you yet.” She tried to make eye contact with me, but then broke away.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, let me know.” I turned to head out the door.

“Whitney?”

I turned back towards her. I loved the sound of my name from her lips.

“Soon. Okay?”

I nodded and headed out the door.

“Come on girl, it’s Friday night, and you’re getting out of the house and coming with us.” Molls was pulling various outfits out of my closet and tossing them on my bed.

“Where are you trying to take me tonight?” I grabbed a sweater which had been tossed on my bed. I realized it was the same green one I had worn when Jenn and I first met for coffee.

“My cousin has a gig tonight, and we are going to support her. She is doing a solo set at this new coffee shop. I saw some pictures of the place —a converted auto repair shop. It’s way cool what they did to the place.”

“Is she getting back on her feet?” I knew Megan’s history. She was four years younger than Molly and other than their looks, it was hard to believe they were related. Megan had been a hell raiser. Instead of going to college, she was in an all-girl band and poised for a meteoric launch when fast living caught up with her and she imploded. It had been tough to watch such a talented girl make so many bad decisions. And then she found out she was pregnant while she was in jail.

“I think so. She doesn’t have many options available to her. It’s hard for a felon to get a normal job, you know. She got a job in a call center and has been picking up some extra income busking. This is the first paying gig she’s had since she got out six weeks ago.”

“Has she seen her daughter at all yet?” I inquired.

“No. The last time she saw her was in the delivery room. She got about twenty-four hours with her until the welfare officer picked her baby up to go to the baby’s paternal grandparents. But they have cut her off completely from her own daughter. I guess they don’t want her to follow in her mother’s footsteps.”

“Rough.”

“Yeah, but I think she hit rock bottom then. She stayed out of trouble for the most part and got released early.”

I finished slipping on my boots, and we headed downstairs where Dylan was waiting for us. We piled into his car and drove to the coffee shop.

I followed Molly and Dylan into the joint. A bright neon sign hung over the door. The letter O in the middle of the sign was in pink, clearly hinting at part of the female anatomy.

“Lube Job Cafe,” Dylan chuckled as he held the door open for us.

We found a table off to the side. I held it as Dylan went to the coffee bar to get us some drinks while Molly went up to check on Megan. She was much skinnier than I remember. Gone was her trademark plaid skirt for the slutty schoolgirl look and instead she was in a simple black skirt and dark blouse, but was still rocking the Doc Martens.

Megan had a simple setup, an acoustic guitar plus a foot drum kit in front of a stool. A mic was positioned to pick up the guitar and a second for her to sing with. I watched her give Molls a hug before she returned to our table as Dylan got back with some drinks. A moment later an announcer came up to the mike and gave Megan an introduction.

“—Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big Lube Job welcome to Megan York.”

She started with a slow shuffle and morphed into a classic blues tune from John Lee Hooker. I was floored by her voice. I had heard her sing years before, before the drugs took control of her life. Back in the day she screamed into the mic in order to be heard over her indie metal band.

What I was hearing tonight was different. Her voice was low, something akin to Marlene Dietrich. But more melodic. She sang the words with power and put little scoops and accents as the words rolled off her lips.

Her setlist progressed, and she moved into songs I had heard her perform before. But all arranged for an acoustic solo act. I was impressed by how she could sing, play her guitar and play the various pedals of her drum kit. When she sang Phil Collins, I Wish it Would Rain Down, many people pulled out their cell phones to give her a small tribute. And, for as much emotion as she unleashed there, it was nothing compared to what came next.

There was no introduction for it, but the room went silent as words poured from her soul. Megan tossed her head back as if she was trying to make someone hear her in some faraway space.

And now you’re trembling on a rocky ledge
Staring down into a heartless sea
Can’t face life on a razor’s edge
Nothing’s what you thought it would be
All of us get lost in the darkness
Dreamers learn to steer by the stars
All of us do time in the gutter
Dreamers turn to look at the cars
Turn around and turn around and turn around
Turn around and walk the razor’s edge
Don’t turn your back
And slam the door on me

I could see the tears running down her face, they were running down mine as well. I sang the words silently with her. It was as if I was singing to myself and to someone I desperately wanted back at the same time.
The room remained silent, stunned, as Megan set her guitar down. Having had a moment to absorb what they heard, the audience broke into loud applause. The announcer came forward and thanked Megan for her performance and encouraged everyone to visit the bar again.
Molls and I went forward to help Megan pack up her gear and safely put it to the side. We hung out for a while, mostly Molls and her cousin catching up. Dylan and I looked at each other a few times and let them carry on. Over the course of the evening, a number of people stopped by to thank Megan for her music and to find out when she might be playing again.
That night, as I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling trying to go to sleep, the words of the song kept playing over and over in my head, “Don’t turn your back, and slam the door on me.” Eventually, sleep overtook me.

I didn’t think Saturday morning would suck as much as this one did. The rain and general grayness of a Seattle March I could deal with. But I was missing what had been a ritual around this place. Friday night dinner and a movie with my two favorite people, and once the munchkin was safely tucked in her bed, some adult playtime with my girl. But the better part was on Saturday morning waking up and snuggling in bed until the aforementioned munchkin came barreling in to wake us up.

I hadn’t realized until it was gone how much I wanted domestic life. When I was in college, it was never, nope, not going to do it. After a while with Heather, I thought maybe someday. Now, after having Madison around, it was something I wanted, maybe needed.

I looked in my fridge and realized my recent diet of take out followed by a pint of Ben and Jerry’s needed to stop. Partially because I was going to get huge and partially because there was no more ice cream in the freezer. I grabbed the carton of almond milk to pour on my cereal and realized some idiot had put it back in the fridge empty. I thought I would complain to the management of this establishment, maybe they would have some sympathy for me.

Unfortunately for me, the only response I got from the management was “purr,” so I figured I was on my own. I slipped into an oversized hoodie and headed to the market. The place was full, and navigating the aisles was slow with all the people. I turned down the cereal aisle, and I froze in my tracks.

Of all the people who could be here today, it had to be her. My stomach started to turn, and I could feel the acid creeping up. I turned and got out of the aisle before she spotted me.

Why was she, of all people, doing this to me? We were over. Done. That ship had sailed. Next thing I knew I was in the frozen section staring at Ben & Jerry’s again. I was reaching in for some Brownie Batter Core when a familiar voice came from behind me.

“Hello old friend. Hopefully you’re not reaching for Ben & Jerry because of me still.” I turned and looked at my old girlfriend.

“Hi Heather, and um, I do eat this at times when things are okay.” I was at a total loss for words. What I was seeing was not something I had expected to see.

She smiled a knowing smile at me. I had missed her smile, but it was not what I was staring at. I was looking at the large swath of dark green fabric wrapped around her, with a pair of small feet sticking out. I pointed to them.

“Um, yeah. We should talk. Got a few?” Got a few? I thought I needed hours to figure out what was going on. This was the first time in almost fifteen months I had seen or had any communication with her. She had walked out of my life right after Christmas and it had been as if she never had existed.

We pushed our carts over to the coffee stand and found a table.

“You’re not alone I see.”

Heather peeked inside her Moby Wrap. “Kyle is still sleeping. Um, yeah, I’m a mom now.”

“Care to tell me more?” I watched her rub her eyebrows, obviously thinking about how she should explain this. I saw a large rock on her finger. Somewhere in the last year she got married.

“Well, he was born seven months ago. Named after his father, my husband.”

“Um, husband? Wait, did you say he is seven months old?” One thing about being an accountant is that we draw correlations and do math quickly. This means she was two months pregnant when she left me.

I could see little feet starting to wiggle, and she pulled him out and cradled him. He was cute, can’t blame him for his mother being a cheating bitch.

“I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. Kyle and I had met at the coffee shop in my office building, and it was like nothing I had experienced before. He swept me off my feet. I felt so bad for going behind your back, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was trying to figure something out and then I missed my period.”

“Instead, you left me. Left me wondering what was wrong, what I had done. I don’t know how many times I texted you, tried calling. I even showed up at your parents’ place trying to find you.”

“Yeah, your timing was terrible. I was inside telling them I was pregnant. Dad was none too happy you showed up. He thought you were going to go postal or something. I had just admitted to cheating on you and his mind went to a crazy place. That was fun, ‘Mom, Dad, your lesbian daughter has gone straight and has gotten knocked up. And now the woman she cheated on is pounding on your door.”

“I wanted to get answers, Heather. You left me out in the cold, I had nothing to grab onto.”

“I’m sorry Whitney, really I am. I attempted to call you several times, but as time went on, it got harder and harder to even think about what I might say. Then I got busy getting ready for a wedding and having a baby. Life got crazy, you know?”

“I guess.” I didn’t know what to say.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Mad, not sure. Hurt, wounded, disappointed? Yes, yes, and yes.” Little Kyle started to fuss, and Heather started making googly eyes at him to cheer him up. “So, are you happy? Is married life and motherhood what you wanted?”

“In hindsight, I think so. I’m happy. Kyle is a good man and a great father. And um, Junior is going to be a big brother, we found out last week I’m expecting again.”

“Congratulations?” This day kept getting weirder and weirder.

“Thanks. Kyle was surprised. We had just started being intimate again and...”

“La, la, la,” I plugged my ears. “Sorry but hearing about you having sex with someone other than me is not something I expected to hear when I woke up this morning. Hell, this whole conversation, seeing you, is something I didn’t expect.”

“Yeah, life has a way of making funny turns on you, huh?”

I didn’t know how to answer her right now. We both sat there for a moment, each lost in thought.

“Heather, can I ask you a question? Was I bad at taking charge when I got an idea in my head? Like not letting you have any input?”

“Sometimes, yes. There were a few times I almost broke up with you over it. The surprise trip to Cancun was a bit much.”

“Sorry Heather, I guess it’s more a part of me than I thought.” She knew me all too well and could read my face.

“Problems? I know you better than anyone, except for maybe Molly. Is she doing okay, by the way? More importantly, are you doing okay?”

“Molly is doing great, new boyfriend. Do you remember Dylan from my old office? Yeah, they hooked up and are doing awesome. I have a feeling sometime in the next year I’m going to be in a bridesmaid’s dress. As for me. Who knows? But yeah, not doing well. One of my surprises backfired on me, and she dumped me. Frankly, I feel like shit.”

“Hence the Ben & Jerry’s. I knew you were not well when I saw you reach into the freezer.”

“I guess some things are predictable.” Little Kyle started to make a fuss and began poking his head into her chest. “Looks like someone is hungry. I better let the two of you go, besides, Ben is going to melt here soon.” I got up from the table while Heather pulled a hooter hider out of her diaper bag. “See you, good luck to you.”

“You too, call me sometime, ok? I still have the same number, and I’ve unblocked you.” She nodded her head as a little one started to nurse. Of all the shitty things which possibly could have happened that day, I couldn’t imagine it being any worse than this. After picking up a few more items, I texted Molly about what had happened as I left the store.

Molly: Can’t hang today, with Dylan at his folks house all day. Sucks about Heather.

Me: Yeah, have fun with D

The sun was setting when my phone rang. I pushed an empty pint carton away, reached around a bottle, and poked at the accept button before I remembered I had to swipe it.

“Jello,” I snickered. “Whitbey’s phone.”

“You’re drunk Whit.”

“Whaaa, little ole me? I’ve only a few shots had.”

“Shots? You never drink anything more than a glass or two of wine since ‘The Incident’ our senior year of college. How many and what have you got?”

“Wodka. Just a f-e-e-ew shots.”

“You’re slurring your words. Why do you do this to yourself? I can’t help you out this time. Are you at home?”

“Yes—”

“Stop and go to bed, please, before you hurt yourself?”

“Oba kaybe Mollby.”

“Go to bed Whitney. I’ll check with you in the morning. Night.” I don’t remember much more of the evening. I think I passed out on the couch.

“Blech!” I spit again into the toilet, trying to get the awful taste out of my mouth.

“Here, take a sip.” I glanced up at the offered glass of water.

“Whaa! How did...”

“Drink first, barf some more if you need to, then we’ll talk.”

I took care of some more business; it was nice to have my hair held out of the way for me. After a little more water, I looked up at my nurse. “Where’s Madi?”

“Still sleeping in your guest bed. You look like you got keel hauled under a tug.”

“Keel hauled? Haven’t heard that in a while. Wait, you’re talking to me now?”

“For the moment. You’re still in the doghouse with me. And for future reference, ice cream and Grey Goose don’t go as well together as you think. Or at least that much vodka. Do you know how much you drank yesterday?” I shook my head, which was a mistake, of course. It made things hurt even more. “Well, probably twice the amount I would have served to a single person when I was working at the tavern. Better start drinking some water. Today is going to suck donkey balls for ya.”

I tried to laugh at her joke but ended up with my head in the toilet some more.

“Mommy? Is Miss Whitney okay?” A little head poked its way into the master bathroom.

Fuck, did the little one have to see me like this? If there was a rock bottom for me, this had to be about it.

“Go watch some TV Madi. Miss Whitney will be fine, she’s sick. Hopefully she will be feeling better later today.”

“Thanks Jenn.” I was a mess. I’m not sure how I had a tank top on or shorts, but was glad I was somewhat decent. Jenn helped me up off the floor and got back to my bed.

“How did you get here?”

“Molly called me last night. She told me about your run in with Heather and how you answered the phone drunk as a skunk. She was worried sick about you. Me being here is partly a favor to her. Your place was a mess when we got here. I put Madi down, and then got you to bed. You were passed out on the couch. I’m not surprised you don’t remember anything from last night. At least I got you awake enough so you could sleepwalk up your stairs and into your own bed. I couldn’t have done that by myself. Thanks, by the way, for not changing the security code, otherwise you would have been on your own.”

We both sat on my bed for a bit. “I’m sorry. When I figured out what a jerk I had been to you, I felt terrible. I kept wanting to talk to you, but—”

“Well, I didn’t make it easy for you, did I? Some of it was Vicki’s idea. We receptionists haveta stick together, you know. She’d call me when you left your building and stayed on the line until you were well past the lobby.”

What a sneaky thing. Then she made me melt. “Did you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“You know, your thing. Tuck your hair behind your ear. Turns me on every time.”

“Is my Whitney sexually frustrated?” I felt her fingers brush some hair from my face. I whimpered in response. “You know, the last week hasn’t been easy for me, either. But I needed the space. I’m still mad at you. I needed some alone time. Still do.”

“So why did you come over, then? Why not just let me lie in my own vomit?”

“Well, part of me still loves you. The other part of me wants to strangle your neck.”

“Oh.” I got a whiff of her cucumber smell. She was right there next to me. I wanted to reach out and take her hand. To make this better. Make us better. But I wasn’t sure how it would be taken.

“But the main reason is that we need to talk. I told you I was close to being ready. I think I am now.”

I gulped. What was coming next? Was this just going to confirm our breakup? “Okay,” I said meekly.

“Do you know why I’m mad at you?”

“Because I threw a surprise party for Madi?”

“Sort of, but not really. I’m frustrated that you didn’t tell me or include me in the planning for my daughter’s birthday party. But that’s not the core problem.”

“It’s not?” What was she getting at? My head hurt, and this conversation was not helping.

“I hadn’t quite put it together when we fought after the party, but it’s about control. I feel like I was losing control of my life, of my daughter’s life. You were starting to take over, and I had no say in what was going on.”

“That’s not fair, I don’t want to run your life.”

“Are you sure about that?” Her voice was a soft whisper. Not threatening in tone, but very threatening at the same time.

“Jennifer, how can you say that? That is not what I want to do.”

“But I see you trying to do it. Trying to always have your way. Like trying to sneak your credit card in on me at the car parts store.”

“I said I was sorry.” Ugh, this was not going the way I wanted it to. I rubbed my throbbing temples.

“I know, but it feels like you don’t respect me.” I watched her bite her lip.

I reached out and put my hand on hers. She didn’t flinch. “That’s not who I want to be.”

“I know. Deep down you’re a good person. A great person. Someone I fell in love with. Someone I still want to be in love with. But I haven’t felt like I’m being treated as an equal.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“Yeah.”

We sat there for a minute, neither sure of what to say next. “So where do we go from here?”

“Where do you want it to go?”

Was that a longing look in her eyes? I wasn’t sure. But I did know one thing. “I don’t want to lose you, Jenn. Can I get a second chance?”

“I’d like to give you one. I don’t want to lose you either. But I’m a bit scared. I was seeing signs of behavior that I don’t want to be around. So this time we need to progress things a little more slowly. And can we talk about what we are going to do more before we do them and no more surprises?”

“No more surprises.” I hugged Jenn. Oh, it felt so good to have her in my arms, if for a moment. It almost let me forget the pounding in my head.