Bonds of Friendship
2 - Hope From Heartache
Morning found me with a killer headache. I'd earned every ounce of pain with the mojitos, and deserved it after pushing Faye into uncomfortable territory. I really hadn't given her a choice, and I was sure she hadn't wanted what happened - at least, not at my hands. I'd gotten carried away.
When she came through for breakfast I grunted good morning and then ignored her, sneaking out of the apartment as soon as I felt I could drive to pick up my daughter, and I stayed at my mother's for much longer than I needed to.
Looking after Zoe gave me another excuse not to interact with Faye. The few times I saw her, she seemed more amused than upset, but she let me have my space until I'd put Zoe to bed for the night.
She caught me when I was silently heading to my room. "Do we need to talk?"
"Must we?" I sighed.
She nodded. "Yeah, I think so. You've been avoiding me all day."
I slumped down in the chair nearest to Faye. There was no point in denying it. It wasn't even unconscious. It was quite deliberate. "I feel really bad about last night," I said.
"I thought you said we were both too drunk to get embarrassed," she pointed out.
"I said that, didn't I? I was wrong. And I was definitely too drunk to behave responsibly." I hid my head in my hands.
"You can stop beating yourself up over it," Faye said. "I forgive you."
I peeked out between a couple of fingers.
"It was..." She shrugged. "It was quite nice, really. I mean, I could have done it alone, but the sense that someone cared enough about me to make me feel good, that made it better. So it was weird, and don't help me again, but... thanks."
"Yeah?" I lowered my hands.
"Thing is," she added, "since I'm not attracted to you, I didn't feel like I was betraying Doug."
That hurt, somehow, though I really couldn't see why it should, and it made sense, given how she felt. "Yeah, I see."
"I'm glad you talked me into getting the toy," she said. "And I think it's going to be less awkward using it now than it would have been if you hadn't shown me."
"Because it can't possibly be as awkward as last night?"
Faye grinned. "That's not what I meant, but that works, too."
~~~~~
Our lives were back to normal after that. Faye and I spent most of our non-working time together, with or without Zoe.
Several weeks later, a friend of Zoe's from her daycare was having a birthday pizza party, and I solicited Faye's help to choose a gift and keep me company while the party was underway.
We sat at a table away from the kids, where we could still see them, and ate pizza and drank Dr. Pepper. Faye spent a lot of time watching the kids' party, wistfully.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Just thinking," she said. "The kids are so good, and the parents all seem so proud of them. Like you are with Zoe. I start to wonder if I'll ever be in that position."
I hesitated a moment before making a comment. It was meant as teasing, but it could be sensitive. Teasing won out, though; she wouldn't want me feeling that I was walking on eggshells. "Kinda think you need a husband for that," I said. "Or a guy, at least."
She gave me an unreadable look, her eyes holding mine for several seconds. I wished that I'd avoided the eggshells... but then she spoke; softly, but clearly not upset.
"Just after Doug was diagnosed," she said, softly, "the oncologists thought that his chances of recovery were excellent. But there was a very large risk of sterility. He'd get better, they said, but may never be able to have kids. So they suggested that we store his sperm. It wasn't an automatic decision for us. What if his cancer was hereditary? But there had been no sign of it in his family history,and the doctors were pretty sure that the cancer was a side effect of virus, not that the virus had triggered a latent cancer. So we did it.
"Then he... well, we'll never know if he might have ended up sterile, will we?" She sighed. "But his sperm is still in storage."
"You're thinking about using it?"
She shook her head. "I'm not that far along in the thought process. I'm not thinking about having a kid, I'm considering that at some point, it might be possible."
"Wow," I said. "I didn't know."
"But if it were ever to happen," she continued, "it would have to be as a single parent. Can you imagine potential husband X's reaction? 'Hey, Jack, let's get married, but I'm not going to have your kids, I'm going to have my dead husband's? Who I still love, by the way?'"
I chuckled, but the humor only emphasized the poignancy of her situation. "And anyway, you're not going to find a guy as long as you can only get close to someone you're not attracted to."
She gave me another unreadable look at that. Towards the end, her eyes seemed to mist up. Then she looked down at her unfinished pizza slice. "Yeah, that." A second later, she looked up. Her expression seemed troubled. "Erin, I really don't think I can stay until the party's over. You wouldn't mind if I left you with Zoe, would you?"
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's nothing, but I really don't think I can be here right now. I'll see you when you're home, okay?"
"You want to just meet somewhere in an hour?" I asked. "You don't have a ride."
She shook her head. "I'll take a cab. I'll be fine." Then she headed out, without even saying goodbye to Zoe. I watched her leave, feeling worried for my friend.
~~~~~
Faye seemed distant when I got home. Not angry, or visibly upset, just quiet and detached. She helped with dinner, and read to Zoe at her bedtime. Then she made her own preparations for bed.
A few minutes later I knocked on her door. I'd brought an offering, warm milk with brandy for each of us. Her smile seemed sad, but she let me in. I sat on a small chair drinking my nightcap while she sat on the bed. "What's going on?" I asked.
"I think I'm going to move out," she said.
My heart sank. The intensity of my disappointment surprised me. "Why?"
"That's... a personal thing," she said.
