Lesbian Stepmother (23 page)

“If you say you’re not, then I believe you.
Looking back, it was your idea to have me move in as soon as
possible. So maybe I’m wrong about that part of it. But, Amy,
what is it? I was so much looking forward to us being friends. I
don’t like it the way it is now.”

“I don’t either,” I said. There were
tears in my voice, and she held my hand tighter.

“Well let’s change it, then. What can we
do? Please tell me what’s bothering you, and I swear to you,
I’ll do anything I can to make things better.”

I began to cry; It
just happened. I tried to hold it back, and failed. There was just
no way to tell her the truth, but if I didn’t she’d think
I didn’t like her. I couldn’t win.

She shifted on the bed, moving closer to me and
awkwardly putting an arm around me. I loved her for making such a
sweet gesture and moved over, so that we were sitting side by side.
She pulled me close and kissed my hair, making me cry even more.
“Amy, what is it? Please tell me.”

I tried quickly to come up with some type of lie, but
there was just nothing there. Nothing would make sense of my
behavior besides the truth, and I couldn’t possibly tell her
the truth. Could I? “I can’t.”

She pulled me even
closer, rubbing my back. “You
can
.”

“I
can’t
,
Susan. You don’t understand.”

“I
want
to understand. It’s no good the way it is. Please tell me
what’s wrong, sweetheart.”

Maybe it was that word. I’m not sure. But
something in me broke away and I realized that it would be forever
unfair and virtually intolerable for both of us if I continued to
keep my feelings a secret. I looked at her, tears streaming down my
face. “You... you don’t really want to know.”

“I
do
.”
She looked at me so earnestly and with such an affectionate
expression that I almost melted. “I care about you, Amy. I’m
planning to marry your father in a few days. We’re going to be
around each other for years and years. I don’t know how to get
through to you that you can tell me
anything
.”

“But...”

“Anything, Amy. I like you so much, and I want
to like you even more. Please, tell me what’s bothering you.
Is it just... you don’t like me?”

I threw my arms around her and cried even more. She
hugged me tight, rocking me back and forth in her arms. She had no
idea what was going on. “Please don’t think that I don’t
like you,” I moaned. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

She kissed my forehead. “What is it, sweetie?
Tell me.”

I tried to force myself to stop crying. It wasn’t
doing either of us any good. I sat up, wiping the tears from my
eyes. “I...”

“What? Tell me.”

“I... I can’t.”

“Amy,
please
!
How can we make this better if you don’t tell me?”

“We can’t,” I sobbed.

“We
can
.
I promise we can.”

We couldn’t keep going around in circles. I had
to spill my guts. I looked at her, tears still streaming down my
cheeks. “Susan... I’m...”

She stroked my back, taking my hand again in hers and
holding it. “Tell me.”

“Susan, I’m gay.”

She looked startled and more than a little confused by
my confession. She frowned. “That’s it? That’s
what’s bothering you?”

There was a lump in my throat, and I fought to swallow
past it. When I did, she was still looking into my eyes and waiting.
“Not exactly.”

“Well, what is it? You think I’m not going
to like you because of that?”

I shook my head. “That’s not the problem.”

“Well, what
is
?”

“The problem is...” My breath hitched and
I needed a moment to compose myself. Was I really going to tell her?
I had to. “Susan...”

“Yes?”

“I’m in love with you.”

I don’t think she was expecting that. She stared
at me for a moment, her mouth slightly open. “Love?”

I nodded, my face scrunching up as more tears spilled
down. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? For what?” She was
trying to say the right thing, but it was obvious she was struggling
to make sense of things. “Honey, you didn’t do anything
wrong.”

“I know. And neither did you. It’s
just... I’m sorry.”

She slid her hand up and down my arm, trying to console
me. “Stop saying that. When you say you’re... in love
with me... what does that mean?”

“It means that I am.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “You know that I’m
not...”

“I know. There’s no solution. It’s
just unfortunate.”

“Amy, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“I know.” I squeezed her hand. Now that
she knew my secret, I actually felt a little better. “It’s
just really hard being around you. You have no idea what it does to
me.”

“God, I feel terrible.”

“Please don’t. I don’t want you to.
I like you so much.” I groaned. “Maybe too much.”

She rested her head on my shoulder. “Oh, Amy. I
never would have guessed. I thought I had done something wrong...”

“No.” I sniffed, wiping my nose. “I
kind of fell in love with you right away. I think about you all the
time. But I know... I know that’s wrong, and that’s why
I said I’m sorry.”

“It’s not wrong. It’s just what you
feel. And there’s no need to be sorry.”

“Now you’re going to be really
uncomfortable around me, knowing how I feel about you.”

She lifted her head, looking at me. “No. I’m
not.” She ran the back of her hand over my cheek. “I
feel love toward you, too, Amy. Just not... the same kind, maybe.”

I laughed bitterly. “No. I know that already.”

“God, what are we going to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. I just need to
get over you.”

“And that’s why you’ve been avoiding
me.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Please stop saying that.” She kissed my
cheek, causing my heart to race all over again. “And seeing me
with your father probably doesn’t help, either. Oh, hell. It
all makes sense to me now.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes, holding each other
and coming to grips with this information we now shared. Then she
ran her fingers through my hair and cocked her head, so she could see
my eyes. “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?”

“Yes.” I debated whether or not to tell
her about Dianne, and decided I should. I really liked Susan a lot,
aside from being in love with her, and the idea of talking candidly
to her greatly appealed to me. It had been so long since I had a
real friend, and like she’d said, we had planned on being
friends with each other since the beginning. I began to tell her the
story of my summer at the funnel cake stand, and in doing so felt
much better, and much closer to her.

She hugged me very lovingly when I was finished.
“Honey, I had no idea you’ve been struggling with this
all alone for so long.”

I nodded. “It actually feels good to tell you
about it. It’s like... I don’t know... like I got
something off my chest, I guess.”

“You did. And I want you to know you can tell me
anything, whenever you want to. Anything at all.”

“Thank you, Susan.”

She kissed me on the forehead again. “You’re
welcome.”

We spent a little while just talking things over after
that. She was very nervous about marring my father and wasn’t
sure she was doing the right thing. We went over the pros and cons
of it, and she said she’d do some deep thinking that night. It
was wonderful to sit there on my bed and chat with her about whatever
we felt like talking about. She was a real friend now, and I didn’t
see anything changing that. I’d never have her as a
girlfriend, which I’d already accepted, but I sure as hell
wasn’t going to turn my back on her as a friend again.

When she finally left my room that night, we both felt
really good. Our problems were far from solved, but we both knew we
had someone to talk to now.

I didn’t feel nearly as alone anymore.

Chapter 8

My father and Susan ended up getting married at the
courthouse as scheduled. I attended as a witness, as did one of
their mutual friends from work, and then the two of them disappeared
for a few days to Niagara Falls. Talk about originality. I figured
it was close enough not to require a flight and inexpensive enough
not to set my father back too much, so it was a perfect choice for
him. Susan and I joked about it before they left, but I didn’t
want to joke too much for fear of hurting her feelings. She seemed
happy enough with it, and neither of us had ever been there, so who
knows. Maybe it really is a nice place.

When they got back, they didn’t seem any
different. They both wore rings now, but that was about it. Life
carried on as usual, and the days turned into weeks. If anything
really changed during that time, it was that Susan and I became
closer. Not in any romantic sense, of course, but as friends. My
father was back to sitting in his chair every night, and I would sit
with Susan on the couch. We’d talk and watch television
together, or sometimes just sit and read quietly. It was very
peaceful, and we were very comfortable together.

I was still in love with her, and doing my best to
suppress it. It wasn’t easy, but I managed.

* * *

In no time at all, it was summer again. I graduated
high school, although not with the best grades in the world. Still,
I was done with it and Susan came to my graduation. She was the only
one there for me, as my father had to work and was simply too busy to
leave early. Maybe next time.

I ended up getting my job back at the fabric store. It
wasn’t really what I wanted, but I was content there, and I was
already familiar with everything, including Mrs. Whipple, my boss.
She liked me, and we got along just fine. Once she hired me back I
stopped applying at other places and just settled in, thinking I’d
take it easy for a year or so and save a little money.

I felt quite a bit happier working for a living. I
highly preferred it to high school. There was really no stress, and
no one to pick on me every day.

With Susan’s help, I began applying to colleges.
It was a long, slow process, and that was fine with me. I wanted a
full year away from school; I needed it.

July
arrived, and with it, my eighteenth birthday. Since I didn’t
have any actual friends besides Susan, my birthday was relatively
simply. After I got home from work we sat down to a nice dinner,
which Susan had prepared just for me. We had blackened salmon,
Spanish rice and asparagus. These were some of my ultimate
favorites, and she managed to cook them better than any restaurant
I’d ever been to. Everything was perfect, and she made so much
that despite me eating my fill, there were still leftovers for the
next day.

When we were done with dinner, and my father had
cleared the table, Susan brought out a lovely birthday cake. She’d
had it hidden in the cabinet since she’d made it, earlier in
the day. It was a vanilla cake with lemon frosting, and there were
eighteen candles on it, in addition to “Happy Birthday Amy.”
She lit the candles and brought the cake over to the table, setting
it down right in front of me.

“Oh, Susan. It’s beautiful.” I was
very moved by the cake. I’d never had one personalized like
that, or made especially for me, except for when I was a very little
girl and still had a mom. I almost wanted to cry at her hard work
and thoughtfulness.

She smiled at me and stepped aside. “Make a
wish, sweetheart.”

I nodded. It didn’t take me very long to think
of what I wanted. I’m not even going to tell you what I wished
for, because I think you already know. Then I blew out the candles,
making sure to get them all with one breath. Susan applauded when I
did, and my father joined in, probably feeling obligated. I could
tell he wanted to get back to his chair and his enticing papers, but
he was stuck having to celebrate my birthday, at least for a few more
minutes.

Susan offered to let
me cut the cake, but I allowed her the honors. I couldn’t take
my eyes off her as she plucked the little candles out one by one with
a happy grin on her face. It was very warm in the house, almost hot,
and she was wearing a very simple low-cut black dress. I wanted to
lean over and kiss her beautiful arm, which was only inches from my
face. She pulled out another candle, and with it came a small bit of
cake and a little glob of frosting. As I watched, she lifted the
candle to her mouth and inserted it between her lips, cleaning it off
and giving herself a little taste at the same time.