Bonds of Friendship

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.

"Is it something I've done?" I asked.

She shook her head emphatically. "No. Please don't be upset. It's nothing bad."

"How will I manage without your rent?"

"I don't

pay

rent," she said, with the first spark of humor I'd seen since the afternoon.

"Still," I said, "I'm your friend. We've grown close here, haven't we? If you're going to break my heart, I think I deserve to know why."

"Break your heart?" The look she gave me was miserable. "You're my best friend, Erin. If I say any more it will break mine."

I set my drink down and reached out to take her free hand. "I don't want to lose you," I said. "I'm sure that there's nothing you could tell me that would come close to the worry I'll feel about you, or the loneliness if you go."

She drew her hand back and used it to wipe her eyes. "You're making it worse."

I picked up my warm milk again and watched her. "Please?" I asked.

"It would be a really bad idea, Erin," she said.

"Please?" I asked again.

"You're not going to leave it alone, are you?" She sighed, and wiped her eyes again. "This afternoon. When you said I could only be close to someone I'm not attracted to. You meant my comment weeks ago, didn't you? About that tipsy night being alright, because I'm not attracted to you?"

"I don't know that I was thinking about it, but yeah, I probably was," I said.

"That was a stupid thing for me to say," Faye said. "Pompous. And... and... it wasn't true."

I was heartsick. "Oh, god, Faye. I'm so sorry. I wish I hadn't done that."

Faye's eyes showed confusion for a moment. Then she shook her head. "Oh, no, no, not that part. I didn't mean it wasn't alright. It just... wasn't true that I wasn't attracted to you. Even then, I think I was. Now... I'm crushing on you like a schoolgirl. It has been building for so long, and I just can't help it. I want to leave so we can stay friends. So you don't need to know. But now you've made me say it, and I've probably killed our friendship anyway."

I raised my eyebrows. "You think I won't want to be around you because you have a crush on me?"

"Because I'll make you uncomfortable," she clarified.

"You don't," I said.

"I will if I stay here," Faye said. "If I don't see you often, I'll be able to deal with my feelings without driving you away."

I reached out and took her hand again. She tried to move it out of reach, but I caught and held it. "Why would you drive me away?" I asked. "You're my best friend. If your feelings make it too hard for you to stay, well, I'd understand, but you certainly don't need to leave for me. Won't you stay? I'm sure we can figure it out together. You'll probably feel differently soon."

"I don't think so, Erin," she said. A tear slid down her cheek.

"May I hug you?" I'd never asked before, but I didn't want to make her feel worse.

She nodded and moved into my embrace, wrapping her arms around me and snuffling against my left shoulder.

She mumbled something against me.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Doug loved you, you know," she repeated.

"What?" I almost pulled back.

"Not, like, he wanted you to jump into bed with him." She chuckled, still snuffling. "Well, I don't

think

so. But you gave him so much, in time and in support. One of the la..." At that she broke up completely. She had to free herself and lean back, her face blotchy, to grab a stack of tissues. Then she leaned forwards again, clearly expecting me to hold her, so I did. "One of the last things he said to me was that he was so happy that I had you in my life. That he knew I'd be able to rely on you to hold me together, after he'd... after..." She sobbed for a time before continuing. "And you have done. I don't think I need you to hold me together anymore - she says, using your shoulder as a handkerchief - but I don't want to lose you. Especially not to a stupid crush."

"You won't, Faye," I insisted. "Not by my choice, anyway." I squeezed her close, briefly, then backed away. "Tomorrow, let's take the afternoon to ourselves and talk about it."

~~~~~

Faye tried to avoid Krys at church the next day. I understood her reticence, since the pastor's wife seemed to be able to ferret out problems - with the best will in the world to fix them - and when I saw Krys approach Faye I intercepted her and headed her off, telling her that we couldn't stay, since my mother was expecting Zoe. Which was true, but I hadn't set a time. She asked how we were doing, and I replied for both of us that everything was going well.

"Thanks," Faye whispered, as I steered her towards the nursery to collect my daughter. "I don't think I could have handled Krys's interest in my well-being today."

"Understood," I said, as we gathered up Zoe from junior Sunday School.

Mom had made us lunch, and we ate before leaving. Zoe, excitedly telling my mother about the previous day's party, barely noticed us go.

Autumn had officially started a few days earlier. The day was overcast, and the parking lot of the botanic gardens was only half full. I paid for our entrance, and we wandered for twenty minutes before either of us spoke.

"How do you see this working?" Faye asked at last. We were leaning against the railing around a pond, watching orange, black and white koi swim in circles. "If I stay, I mean. You're the one who thinks we can make it work."

"Staying as we are isn't an option?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know. It gets harder every day."

"In what way?"

"Whenever I see you I feel..." She shrugged. "Something. Like a little thrill. And then I realize you don't feel the same, and I get hit with a spike of gloom that is stronger than the happy feeling was. Then I get depressed, and don't want to be around you."

"Two people never feel quite the same about each other, you know?"

"Don't give me reasons, Erin," she retorted, as sharply as is ever heard her speak, at least to me. "I don't need to know

why

you don't have feelings for me. I know it's different."

"That's not what I meant," I replied, with a shake of my head. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about this since last night. I have

no

idea what today's sermon was. I don't think I heard a word. When you said that you were moving out, I felt awful. It made no sense, really. I'd still see you, we'd still be friends, but it felt like there'd be a huge hole in my life that would go way beyond that. I would feel that I was losing you. Does that make sense?"

"I don't know," Faye replied, thoughtfully. Her eyes were following the largest of the fish as it led the school around. "I don't think my feelings have much to do with our friendship. You know I'd do anything I could for you, Erin, and I know you'd do the same for me. That has never changed. I've been feeling so much happier since I moved in with you, but I've been getting these feelings of sadness, too. For the longest time I assumed that was just my new normal. Of course I'm going to be sad, with what I've been going through. But I realized I was getting sad if I couldn't spend time with you, and happy when you were looking at me," She reached up and pushed a strand of hair back. "I still hurt, and that obscured the joy that I feel when I'm with you, so it took me a long time to see."

"So why are you thinking about leaving?" I asked.

"Because I thought that if you ever found out, you'd be creeped out," she replied. "If I lost you over a stupid attraction, I'd never forgive myself."

The sun made a tentative appearance. Deep shadows formed over her eyes as I studied her. "Do you think it's stupid?" I asked.

She lifted her face, allowing the sun to reach her eyes. "Well, it isn't

rational

, is it, if you're not attracted to me?" Her tone was sharp. "But I don't think those kinds of feelings are ever rational." She turned back to the fish pond, her cheeks coloring, whether with embarrassment or anger I couldn't tell.

"Do you think it's wrong to have feelings for another woman?" I asked. "Do you think it's sinful?"

Faye stared at the pool for several seconds, her lips tightening. "What does that even mean?" she asked, sharply, still glaring at the water. "It's just a word to make God as much a bigot as his followers." Then she sighed and shook her head, decisively. "No, I don't. It's just... inconvenient. What about you?"

"No," I said, immediately. "I've never thought that, even before Brother Bob preached on equality and acceptance. I just never thought I'd have them."

The broad leaves of a water lily floated on the small ripples the breeze was making on the pond. A brilliant off-white flower formed the center of the leaves, its petals sharp triangles. The sun's presence was more constant, now, and the flower glowed in it's light. Faye was silent, but seemed to be on the point of speaking several times.

Eventually she did. "You said you

didn't

think you'd have those feelings." Her tone was flat. I didn't think she was being distant as much as trying not to let her emotions show. "Are you saying you do now?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. That's what I was trying to say. I feel joy too, when I'm with you. I just thought it was pleasure in a friend's company, and I hadn't considered anything beyond that until I realized just how much it would... how much it would hurt if you leave. I think maybe I do. Or I'm starting to."

I felt a finger brush against the back of my hand. "I don't want my leaving to upset you," she said, her voice soft. "That is the opposite of what I'm trying to do. I'll stay if you want me to."

Breath whooshed out of me as I released tension I hadn't been aware of having. I turned my hand over and caught her finger between my thumb and forefinger. "I'm glad, but I don't want to pressure you. I'll be okay with whatever you decide, as long as we don't lose the connection between us."

I turned to see a soft smile on her face. "Since that was my reason for leaving, too, I guess I'd prefer to be close while we work things out."

Releasing her finger, I took Faye's hand in mine and laced my fingers into hers.

She looked down at our joined hands, shadows hiding her eyes again. "You won't abuse my feelings, will you, Erin?"

"No, sweetie," I replied. The endearment just popped out, startling me. It seemed to startle Faye, too.

"What if the crush doesn't go away? I can't help how I feel."

"Do you think it will?" I asked.

She made a tiny shake of her head. In a tiny voice, she said, "I haven't been able to wish it away yet, Erin."

A splash made her turn her face back to the pond. I looked in the same direction to see ripples and one of the bigger white fish diving into the cloudy depths. "What if it's more than a crush?" she added, nervously.

"Do you think that's likely?" I asked. "You're still in love with Doug. With everything you've said about dating, I can't imagine that you'd want to open your heart to anyone else."

A woman with young children had moved close to watch the fish, a little girl pointing at them and chattering excitedly. Faye smiled at her, then squeezed my hand and led me along the footpath. "Whatever we could become to each other," she murmured, "you could never be my boyfriend."

I chuckled. "Well, duh."

Faye gave me an unsteady grin. "Maybe that shouldn't make a difference, but I think it does, to me," she said. "I'll always love Doug. I think if I were ever to love someone else, they'd have to take a different place in my heart than what he was to me."

"You think a woman might do that?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Maybe. As long as she is able to respect my feelings for Doug, and not try to replace him." Sighing, she added, "I know he'll become less a part of my life over time. It has to be that way, for me to go on, and it's already happened some. But if anyone were to try to force that, I'd be hurt and resentful. You've never done that, and I love that about you." She squeezed my hand briefly. "I don't think you ever would."

"I wouldn't," I replied. "I always cared for both of you."

We stopped beside a bed of tall flowers, white and purple. Our hands were still clasped tightly. "If you..." she began then stopped. She glanced at me and then out to the flowers. "If you do find you have feelings for me, please don't hide them."

I looked down at our joined hands, then up at her face. She was avoiding looking at me, her eyes fixed on the flowers. Her cheeks seemed to have more color than usual, in spite of the sun bleaching her face.

For the first time ever I tried to imagine her as a partner rather than a friend. She was lovely. She always had been that, even in the depths of grief. She no longer was the carefree college kid she'd seemed when we first met, barely out of her teens and bubbling over with plans for how great things would be when Doug had thrown off his illness. Her face had aged more than the time that had passed. She looked older than her years, but the sadness no longer dominated, and in its place was the beauty of maturity.

Her nose and chin were still angular, narrow lips expressive. Currently their corners were tight with nervousness. A stubborn ribbon of long, dark hair hung against her face, leaving an elfin ear poking through the dark sheet.

When she'd moved in, she had been thin with stress and fatigue. She was still slender, but with a healthier, lean appearance. She was doing well, physically.

More importantly, I already knew of her compassion. She'd weathered a major storm without breaking. Her inner strength was startling. Her unequivocal and unconcealed love for her husband was a sign of it, as was her complete lack of jealousy when she told me that he'd cared for me, too.

If Jared had even half of her attributes, he wouldn't have abandoned us. The

only

thing that Jared had ever had to offer, I was thinking, was that he was a guy, and I'd assumed I wanted a guy. It wasn't enough.