Juliet Takes a Breath (24 page)

“Relationships are always going to be complicated, Juliet,” Zaira said. “We've all known each other for a long time. Lupe and I were in a band together: the Zealots. Harlowe, Ginger, and Maxine used to run around the music and poetry scenes and somewhere along the way I think we all realized that our friendships were more valuable than relationship drama.”

It made sense, but it didn't. I thought Zaira and Maxine were like magic anti-white privilege freedom fighters or something. I'd imagined them charging out of Portland and starting movements across the U.S. leaving Harlowe and all the other whiteys in the dust. I didn't ever think that they were all part of an unbreakable multiracial community of women. Did this mean that they didn't have my back? I thought they understood how fucked up the reading was. How was it all okay?

“So no one has any weird feelings?” I asked, again because maybe I'd missed something.

“Everyone has weird feelings,” Maxine said. “But we don't run from each other. And we're all going to be goddess mothers to Ginger's baby.”

Okay, I'd heard it all. My head spun. I took a deep breath and thought about the voicemail I'd left Lainie. Perhaps, this is what the sentiments of that voicemail looked like in real life. Awkward but beautiful.

“Okay, I think I get it,” I said. I hung in the doorway and took in their faces. I'd probably never see them all again after this week and it made me feel a certain type of way. Melancholic. Reverent.

“Were you planning on submitting your short story?” Zaira asked. “I bet you wrote something good at the workshop.”

“I wrote something but I'm not sure about submitting it,” I said. I bit my bottom lip.

“Well, get sure, because I'm sure of you and your voice is important,” she said.

I shrugged. The space felt cramped all of a sudden. I needed some air. I asked them where the nearest post office was. Lupe gave me directions that involved making a left at the house with a statue of Medusa on the porch and continuing forward until I hit the vegan waffle truck. With the Qigong book under my arm, I took off. The walk felt good. The more I thought about it, it made sense that these adult women worked hard on their friendships, even when sex and romantic love weren't part of the equation. It made me wonder about all the ways that we are able to love each other and how movies and TV make it seem like you have to discard people once they break your heart or once the love disappears. Maybe that was a horrible lie, a complete disservice to real love. Maybe those women in that house were love renegades and I needed to take notice. The vegan waffle truck stood before me in all its glory.

I made it to the post office and mailed Lil' Melvin the book with a note.

 

Brother,

You are everything you believe yourself to be. A healer gave me this book for you. She said fire brings about transformation. So burn deep, brother.

 

Love you to the moon and back,

Juliet

 

I cried a little as I watched as the mail person weighed his package. I missed his chubby little face covered in chocolate from those damn Twix bars. I missed his stupid laugh. I missed being little and safe at home like him. I wanted Lil' Melvin to burn so fucking bright that his fire would scorch the earth.

I walked alone until I came upon a restaurant that smelled like cheeseburgers. I stopped inside, sat by myself at a table for the first time ever, and ordered a bacon double cheeseburger with French fries and a Coke. It was fucking glorious. Everything else could wait.

 

 

 

Post-burger and fries, I went for a walk. It was sunny but not hot, with a nice soft breeze floating in the air. My lungs felt lighter than they had in forever. The acupuncture energized me; I didn't know how it worked but everything inside of me felt serene and strong. My heart and mind benefited from it, as well. I didn't feel laden with uncertainty. A whole peaceful vibe settled into my spirit and my body. I liked it. I wanted to do that acupuncture thing every day.

I took deep breaths as I walked. I realized that I hadn't talked to my Mom since our harsh conversation in Miami. I had to call her back. I could handle it. I was so open and filled with all this patience. If she brought up Eduardo and me dating men, I'd just roll with it. Titi Penny said she was trying to love me the best way she knew how. I had to trust them both. I sat on a bench and dialed the house number. Mom picked up on the first ring.

“
Nena
, are you back in Portland?” she asked.

“Yes, Mom,” I replied, shocked to all hell that she'd remembered where I was, finally.

“Titi Penny said that you were wonderful. I'm thinking we should plan a big family trip to her next summer, what do you think?”

“That sounds perfect, Mom. Titi Penny told me that you were reading my books.”

“Oye, that Titi Penny talks too much, doesn't she?”

“Mom, I think that's so good. I'm glad you're reading them. It means a lot to me.”

“Listen,
nena
, I don't know what you're going through but I want to try. I don't want us to be a mom and a daughter that don't talk and all they do is fight. I cannot do that with you, my Juliet.”

“I can't do that either, Mom,” I said. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.

“We won't let that happen to us,” she said. Her voice softened. She sniffled.

“Mom, I mailed something to Lil' Melvin today. Will you keep an eye out for it and make sure he gets it?”

“Oh my gosh, of course, he's going to be so excited. He's been really into dragons lately,” she said.

I laughed, thinking about Lil' Melvin either imagining himself to be a dragon or a magical little gay boy riding a dragon. Either one of those worked for me.

“Dragons are cool. We should get him a dragon for Christmas,” I said.

“I'll talk to your father, maybe he'll get a puppy instead,” she said.

In the small pause, I heard her afternoon soap operas on in the background.

“Are you doing okay, Juliet? I know your time is almost done over there. Are things good with Harlowe?” Mom asked. “Are you all ready to come home?”

I was quiet for too long, unsure of how to answer. I looked up at the trees around me and wished Mom was sitting right next to me.

“
Nena
, talk to me,” she said.

“Mom, I don't know if Harlowe is the person I expected. I don't know if it's because she's some random white lady or if it's because we're from different worlds. I just don't know,” I said.

“White lady or not, her book inspired you so much. Don't deny yourself those feelings. We're all from different worlds.”

“I just thought she'd be different, Mom.”

“But what did you think of yourself?” she asked. “What did you want to learn from this experience?”

“I wanted Harlowe and this internship to change everything.”

“But how, Juliet? What did you want to be different?”

“The world,” I said. “I wanted her to change my world.”

It was Mom's turn to pause. The television noise died down on her end. She must have lowered it. We sat for a minute together, on opposite ends of the country, listening to each other breathe.

“
Mi amor
, only you can change your world,” she said.

“I don't think I know how to do that,” I sighed, looked up at the sky.

“Juliet, I gave you your first set of purple composition notebooks when you turned 13. Do you remember what I wrote in your card?”

“Remember? I wrote it in that first notebook. You said, ‘Reading would make me brilliant, but writing would make me infinite.'”

“And that's the truth,
así es
,” she said. Her “mom voice” was back.

“But Mom…”

“But nothing, let go of whatever expectations you had of this woman and her book and write your own. You must write. You will write. You are Juliet Milagros Palante. This world is yours to reinvent. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” I replied. “Mom, we're good right? This is the start of us being good, better than when I left?”

“Juliet, my love for you is deeper than anything that happened between us. My love for you is the sun, the sky, and the moon. It's the air I breathe. It lives in everything I do. It's better than good. It's everlasting.”

“Same, Mom. I love you, too. Now I'm all crying on this bench,” I said. My sleeve was wet from wiping away all my tears.

We said goodbye right after that. I imagined her going back to the couch and watching the rest of her novelas:
All My Children
and
General Hospital
. I'd be home with her soon enough and then back to school. But I wouldn't be here again, not like this. I wouldn't be Harlowe's intern again. I wouldn't be 19 again. I sat on the bench for a long time, taking in the sunlight. I wondered if it was possible to leave a spiritual imprint without being a ghost. Would a piece of me stay in Portland? Or would I have to take Portland with me? I was down for both.

 

 

 

I didn't give up on the research. I had my routine down. I took the same bus to Multnomah County Library, sat in my favorite work spot, and kept digging. All the librarians knew me now. We shared excitement over new scraps of paper with names of new women.

Kira and I snuck kisses in between bookshelves and hidden corners of basement stairwells. We went for longer rides on her motorcycle. The first few nights of my last week, she brought me back to Harlowe's. But as my last nights drew closer, she brought me to her house. Kira made me love full-body massages and taught me how to return the favor. Summertime love things, that's what we were. No questions asked. I'd run my fingers through her hair and feel that happy ache. I knew I was leaving and that maybe this thing between us didn't matter, but the connection was real. Kira was real. Kira was the one who scooped me up from the Steel Bridge when everything with Harlowe went to shit. She understood my hot angry tears and raged against universal feminism and the whitewashing of womanhood. She'd been the first person to wonder out loud if Harlowe was an ally or an antagonist. Kira, the hot librarian, was now this vibrant force in my world and, I wished I could bring her back with me.

We weren't dating, obviously. We didn't have one of those “what are we doing” conversations. That shit wasn't necessary. She loved my body so good. She made me more chocolate chip cookies, like even if she'd tried to have a conversation about the state of our relationship, I wouldn't have known what to say. All I knew was that I fell in love with her humanity, little by little. On my second to last day, she pulled me into the Rare Books room and kissed me so deep, and so honestly that it felt like she was telling me that she loved me too.

That same night, Kira took me to the bluffs in North Portland. We sat, cuddled up under a willow tree, smoked skinny joints and watched the trains rumble by. The sky stretched out forever. She read to me from James Baldwin's
Giovanni's Room.

“I've got the perfect line for you, Juliet,” she said. Her fingers lazily toying with my hair. “‘You don't have a home until you leave it and then when you have left it, you can never go back.'”

“That can't be true,” I said. A tear slipped out of my eye.

She saw it before I could wipe it away.

“No, hey, it's a beautiful thing,” Kira said. She put the book down and touched my cheek.

“Who wouldn't want to go home?” I asked, looking up into her green eyes.

“Juliet, it's not that you can't literally ever go home. The idea is that once you are able and cognizant enough of yourself to leave, the world changes you, and you're not the same person anymore ever again and that's the beautiful part,” Kira replied.

I lay on her lap looking up at her, past her, and into the sky.

“You know, I saw God once,” I said.

“Oh yeah?”

She put the book down and slowly ran her fingers through my curls. Her arm reached across my belly.

“I was twelve and our church was having a youth prayer service. I didn't even want to go but my parents made me. I sat there, arms folded, pissed, watching all the pastor's kids lose their shit and speak in tongues. At some point, I got up and wandered around until I found another chair and sat in it. I was on my knees, on the chair, praying. I prayed until everything around me went quiet and turned golden. I swear, Kira, everyone disappeared.”

“I believe you,” she said. We locked eyes.

“It was just me praying in another space until a stillness settled over my body. Peace and warmth like I'd never experienced washed over the room and I knew God was with me. I opened my eyes and all I saw was the golden light but I knew it was God. And I could hear God speaking to me from inside my chest and my heart and I cried. I was in the presence of the Divine. Until it shattered. I heard the voice of the pastor yelling at me and snapping his fingers. When I opened my eyes, I was back in church and Pastor Diaz was inches from my face. He said I was praying wrong and that I should have been kneeling on the floor. I walked out of that church and never went back.”

Kira shifted under me. I moved off her lap. She slipped down and laid beside me.

“What did it feel like afterwards?” she asked, her hand in mine.

“I felt free. I know in my heart God is real. I will always know that and no one can take that from me and I don't know why I'm sharing this now. But like, I'm here with you and alive and feeling so good and that moment in my life, Kira, it's one of the best fucking moments of my life and so is this, right here, with you. I guess I just needed you to know both of those things.”

“Can I kiss you, Juliet?”

I nodded. Kira pulled me into her arms and kissed me. She kept her lips close to mine. Kira and I sat under that tree until the stars fell into formation in the sky. We kissed on the grass and then wrapped up in her blanket. Her hands found their way under my bra, into my pants, and her lips kissed all the bare parts of my flesh. It wasn't my last night in Portland but it was my last night with Kira. I didn't stop her when she touched between my thighs, past my pink boy shorts. The air was cool on my skin. I bit her neck to keep the sounds between us. We laughed when it was over, breathless, and smoked the last joint. She dropped me off at Harlowe's after midnight. I promised myself not to ever forget that final kiss against her motorcycle or how I stood there and watched her leave even after she'd turned the corner. Tonight was no different. I waited outside in the dark on Harlowe's porch until I couldn't hear her engine anymore. I wondered if I'd ever see her again. Brain said no. Heart said maybe.