Last year, I attended my cousin Stephanie's wedding and the entire family turned out to celebrate the occasion. A solo attendee, I wanted to bring Lenka; in fact she was more than eager to go with me...
I thought my father's relatives were stuffy and dry, especially the older matrons. I was comfortable with my sexuality but would they be accepting?
Usually I didn't give a damn what anyone thought but for some unexplained reason I felt timid and shy around them. With all their money and "pinkies-up" attitude, I doubted they'd have an ounce of understanding.
Since my inclusion in the "family", I heard the whispers about me at social functions.
"She's so intelligent and pretty...why can't she find a man, settle down and get married."
My Aunt Gertrude was the most vociferous of the lot,
"Jordan dear, with you're charm and good looks, you must be beating them off with a stick..."
"No auntie, no one special in my life," I'd reply resignedly.
"Maybe you're not looking in the right places," she'd say with authority.
I was looking in the "right places", only not the establishments frequented by men.
Since I last talked to my Aunt, I'd found that special someone but refused to bring Lenka, too afraid of the implications and the talk that would ensue. Such behavior was truly uncharacteristic of me but I felt very protective toward my lover.
After the festivities, my cousin Paul drove me to the train station. While we waited in the car for the express to New York City, my heart was heavy.
"I should have told them years ago..." I mumbled solemnly.
Of course, my immediate family, my mother and my aunt who helped raise me knew, as well as Paul and a few other close cousins. But, it wasn't common knowledge. Oh, I'm sure many had their suspicions.
"...still can't face up to them," Paul said referring to the old dowager guard at the family affairs.
"No, I can't...shit Paul, I really wanted to bring Lenka..."
"You shouldn't give a flying fuck what those old crows think..." he said with some bitterness. Paul met Lenka at a party I gave in her honor. When her visa expired, it was Paul who volunteered to marry her for the sole purpose that she could remain in the USA with me. I owed him; I owed him big time for his gallant gesture.
Paul, more than anyone else, knew how very much in love I was with Lenka, and she with me.
The train rumbled into the station it was time to say goodbye. I felt some tears moisten my eyes and I looked at Paul with I'm sure a forlorn expression.
"Hey, don't get upset...there's always the next family gathering...you gonna be ok?" he asked with compassion.
I nodded my head and embraced Paul affectionately.
"Thanks Paul. Have I told you lately that I think you're the best cousin a girl could have?" I uttered with sincerity.
"NO!" he stated loudly, then in a much gentler tone,
"You don't have to say anything; love you, Jordan."
"Love you too," I blubbered on his shoulder and kissed his cheek.
The journey was uneventful and I lightly dozed with thoughts of Lenka just below the surface of my mind. It was past midnight when I exited the subway and hurriedly walked to my small apartment in the Village.
I entered as quiet as a church mouse and saw Lenka dozing on the sofa. Watching her sleep was a delight for me. The way her wavy blonde hair fell on the pillow, the contented, peaceful look on her face. The sight stirred my emotions and filled me with love for her.
I lightly kissed her and she turned towards me. A sound sleeper, Lenka rarely stirred but she slowly opened her eyes and smiled.
"Have a good time?" she asked with her lovely accent.
"Yes...but I missed you..."
"Well, you're here with me now..." Lenka held out her arms and I fell into a loving embrace with her.
Before I met Lenka, I honestly never entertained the idea that I would find the "one", the person I wanted to be with for the rest of my days. Yet, against all odds...
Later that night without disturbing Lenka, I got out of bed. In the tiny adjoining bedroom that I used as my office, I started typing on the computer.
For a long time, I wanted to put my thoughts in some logical order about my life. The light tapping on the keyboard echoed in the room as I gazed at the ceiling for inspiration. I thought about my childhood and the hardships that my mother endured trying to give me a normal upbringing. I adored her, still do and she is my best friend.
In The Beginning:
I was born on an Army post in North Dakota. Poor mom never made it to the base hospital and I entered the world on the living room floor; a healthy seven pound, three ounce baby girl. A big fan of daytime soaps, my mother named me after one of her favorite characters.
Dad was an NCO with a penchant for alcohol. After one year of horrific fights and physical abuse my mother left him for good. I saw him once in the twenty plus years since my mother divorced him. In all that time he made no effort to contact me or expressed a desire to be part of my life, even a very tiny part.
Dying from advanced liver disease, my dad had the pallid, ghostly appearance of an old man. I had no emotional connection to the person in the hospital bed and was unmoved by his passing.
When I was barely a year old, we moved to my aunts house in Chicago. Auntie gave me the love and caring of a parent. I guess you could say I had two mom's.
My childhood, at least to me, seemed normal. I was a tomboy but liked girlie things; dolls, dresses, etc. I participated in sports, soccer and track in particular.
My aunt attended most of my athletic events because my mom managed a restaurant and worked six days a week to bring home the bacon. From my youngest years I never resented her not being there and instinctively knew that it was necessary.
Money always seemed to be tight and presents for Christmas and birthdays were simple and few. Usually to fulfill a school need or clothes so that I didn't look like a farmer.
