Chapter 8

That night, it took a long time before I fell asleep. I kept thinking of Gayle, wondering what she was doing. I wanted to call her so very badly. Just a few seconds of her soft voice was all I wanted, but she asked me to wait. That's fine, I thought. I'll do just that. And, in the meantime, I'll make a few more phone calls.

The following afternoon, I called my husband's parents and had virtually the same conversation with them. As with my parents, they were rather shocked at first, but soon warmed up to the idea and said they only wanted Rachel and I to be happy. I wouldn't say they were entirely thrilled, but they were agreeable. And I could understand how they felt. It was the same thing I'd initially felt with my daughter. You think you know somebody, and then one day they surprise you. And, also like myself, they'd simply have to adjust to the idea of me being in a relationship with another woman. It wasn't their decision, after all, and I wasn't asking their permission. I was merely informing them.

That attitude set the tone for the conversations I had with others over the next several days. I called a few of my husband's closer friends to let them know, not that I thought it was really any of their business, but it at least felt good to come clean about it, as opposed to trying to hide it from them or hope the rumors they'd eventually hear weren't overly exaggerated. What I wanted to do was set the record straight from the get go and not have to fret over whether someone I knew saw me holding Gayle's hand in public.

At school, I told Diane, and she was immensely happy for me, which came as no great surprise. She'd always been very supportive. And I also told Gloria, the lady I sometimes shared hall-monitoring duties with. The only reason I told her was because she was somewhat of a gossip hound at school. Not that she spread rumors, but if she heard them and knew the truth of the matter, she was quick to set things straight. Gloria might have a tough exterior, but she was an honest and trustworthy person. And her reaction, when I explained it to her, was bland nonchalance. She merely looked up from reading her book, licked a finger and turned the page, saying, "Well, Jess, as long as you're happy, that's what counts."

"Thanks," I replied with a broad grin.

Gloria only held up a hand and waved me off, though I could see a smile on her face.

By Friday, I'd informed everyone I thought necessary. Those that had the news would very likely, slowly and over time, tell others within my circle of friends and family, thus saving me a lot of phone calls and emotional angst. I only told those whom I knew I could trust with being honest and factual in relating what was going on and why.

Earlier in the week, it took all the will power I could muster not to communicate with Gayle, whether through email or phone. But the time did seem to pass smoothly with each day and each new person I talked with. It wasn't until I was in bed at night that I had time to think about her. During the day, I was preparing my speech, rehearsing and making last minute adjustments to what I wanted to tell the next person on my list, fine-tuning the dialogue I had used with others and making slight modifications to fit the person next in line. So by the time Friday evening rolled around, everyone that needed to know knew that I was now a lesbian.

While standing in the kitchen preparing dinner, Rachel came down from her room.

"Need any help?" she chirped, plucking a slice of cucumber from the bowl in front of me and popping it in her mouth.

"Nah," I replied. "Almost done."

She twirled around and stepped over to the cupboard and pulled out a glass.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "Forgot to tell ya."

I was walking to the kitchen table with the bowl between my hands, when I glanced over at her by the refrigerator. She pulled out a carton of orange juice and came over to stand next to me, as she filled her glass.

"Ok, and... ?"

Rachel glanced at me, saying, "Oh! Anyway, yeah, your girlfriend called, while you were at the store."

My heart skipped a beat and started throbbing in my chest and up into my throat. With trembling hands, I set the bowl down and turned back to the sink.

"What'd she want?" I asked, trying to mask the anxiety in my voice.

"You, I assume," came the terse reply.

I stood at the sink, holding a towel between my hands, and closed my eyes, trying to breath calmly.

"What'd she say?"

"Just wanted to know if you were home. I told her you went to the store, and she asked which one, and I said how the hell should I know."

I smiled nervously and slowly shook my head, turning to her. Rachel was leaning against the table, holding the glass in her hand and picking at the contents of the bowl I'd set there.

"How'd she sound?" I asked.

Rachel tossed a carrot slice into her mouth and nodded.

"Good," she mumbled, as she chewed.

I sighed. Getting information out of this kid was sometimes like pulling teeth. I was about to start my usual line of questioning, when she spoke.

"I think she misses you," she said, pulling out a chair to sit.

I gulped. "Yeah?" I replied.

"Uh huh. Said she hasn't heard from ya in a couple days and was wondering if you were still alive. I said yeah, you haven't hung yourself yet."

My shoulders slumped, and I groaned. Rachel chuckled and glanced over at me.

"I didn't really say that," she giggled.

I stepped over to her, wringing the towel in my hands, and asked how she seemed. Rachel shrugged.

"I think you should call her," she replied. "Maybe go see her or something... I dunno. None of my business. I just think..."

But I was already running out to the living room. I grabbed my jacket and keys and shot out the door. I was still trying to put one more arm into my coat, as I threw the car in reverse, zipped out the driveway, and then screeched down the street.

For the next ten minutes, my heart pounded rapidly and sweat rolled down my face. It seemed like everyone was conspiring against me, as I'd get stuck behind someone going too slow or hit every light just as it turned red. I mumbled and cursed under my breath, squeezing the steering wheel tightly between my fingers. And, when the light would finally changed green or the slow poke in front of me turned from my path, I jammed my foot down onto the gas pedal.

The drive to her condo never seemed to take so long, but, when I finally arrived, I jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn to the door of her building. I flung it open and jumped inside, dashing up the steps with a clamor, tripping, cursing again, and lunged through the next door. By the time I got to her condo, I was breathing as if I'd just completed a marathon. I propped a hand against the wall, as I tried to catch my breath, my upper body heaving up and down. Then suddenly her door opened.

Gayle must have heard all the commotion in the hallway, as I came into the building. She nearly jumped, when she saw me, and I grinned wide in reply. She was wearing a robe and holding a tissue to her nose. Then she clasped a hand to the front of the robe, poked her head out the door, looking up and down the hall, and then grabbed me by the shoulder and jerked me inside.

I was still breathing hard, my heart still flailing away in my chest, but I was nothing but all smiles. I walked over to the sofa and flopped down, while Gayle stood by the door with an expression of surprise on her face. Then she wiped the tissue under her nose and carefully stepped over to a chair and sat down across from me.

My eyes roamed lazily around the room, and, when they landed on her, I gave her a toothy smile.

"Hey," I said whimsically, giving her a short wave.

Gayle snickered and wiped her nose again. "Hey back," she replied, still maintaining a look of bewilderment. Then she cleared her throat.

"So, what..."

"I told everyone," I exclaimed.

Gayle blinked.

"Pardon? Who's..."

"Everyone," I replied with a big nod. "I told everyone I knew that I loved you. Well, not every single person. Just the people closest and they'll probably tell everyone else."