The orange color of my mood ring that I wore as an affectation transfixed me and tangibly reflected my spiraling speculative journey. A toast had changed my carefree evening into one that was fraught with personal exposure.
I stood frozen holding a wine glass up in the air. I did not know what to do. I had been flirting all night with this woman who was my idol. When the water-closet bidet splashed me with cold water, it had dampened my out of control libido and figuratively allowed me to sober up to the reality of the situation I was in.
I realized I was in real trouble.
To quickly bring you up to speed, maybe I should quickly recap the night's events that would explain how a straight girl like me could end up in this situation.
We had started the evening at a Mexican restaurant and this
tall attractive blonde lady had rescued me from a cynical plot to "pick me up" by publicly but very subtly insinuating that she was my lover. I had gone along with it partly because I was swept into it by circumstance, partly because it had turned out to be a little fun, and partly because for some inexplicable reason it had turned me on. Her attention to me was very flattering. I was drunk and had gotten carried away. Mostly though, I had gone along with it because I didn't really think it was possible. At the time, I had never suspected that she was attracted to women, or anyone for that matter. She was unobtainable and the flirting was safe like walking a tightrope with a guide-wire harness and net to back things up.
Not so much fun to realize that the harness is not hooked up to anything and the net was just an illusion of shadow and light.
I should have been overjoyed by her interest, but instead I was overwhelmed and felt trapped in a web of my own spinning.
I sensed dangers on many fronts; the danger of rejecting and of rejection, the danger of losing a new friend, (Perhaps the danger of discovery?
)
The danger of falling in love with someone out of reach in terms of social status but more germanely because of gender:
I wanted a long-term and fecund love relationship. In my mind there could be no happy ending to embarking on a sexual relationship with a woman, but there would be an inevitable ending. I had life-dreams and desires that were totally incompatible with the lesbian lifestyle.
This lady was well-placed in the community and was apparently in the closet. She was also well-placed at my work because she was a renowned trauma surgeon with an excellent reputation. I was just an ER nurse and who do you think would be encouraged to leave if there was any conflict over this? I guess I was protected by sexual harassment laws, but come on. I had never had a problem like this before and it was partly of my own making. I had been throwing the available and interested signals out all night.
I did not want to hurt her either through rejection or by having to protect myself. Not only would a sexual harassment lawsuit be embarrassing, it would be damaging to Dr. Beauchamp's reputation and she had a sterling one until I realized I might "out" her. Besides I had a lot of respect for her and this was not her fault.
My hydra-like sprawling speculation was interrupted by a polite general interjection.
"Ahem."
My thoughts had gone from 0-60 in the space of a second and I was frozen while my mind flashed immediately from personal dangers to sexual harassment lawsuits. I realized that I had gone off into my head and was still standing and holding a glass of wine in my hand upraised to a toast; a toast in which she essentially wished a happy evening for just us ladies without the interference of any men who were all worse than brutes. What was I going to do?
Dr. Beauchamp was standing, now holding her glass at her side and looking at me expectantly.
She set her glass on the table and delicately took mine from my frozen fingers. She was not stupid and must have realized that I was freaking out.
"Sit down ma Cherie." And with that she firmly directed me to my seat.
After I sat down, she took her seat right next to mine crossed her legs and took one of my hands in both of hers. I reflected that earlier in the evening this exact action had stirred me with warm excitement; now it filled me with icy dread.
She looked down at our clasped hands and broke the silence, "You know, right after my toast I watched your mood stones change from a green to orange. I remember the circumstances in which your jewelry was orange earlier. I think I can guess what that means."
She looked a little distressed and her face assumed a wan expression as she said, "I owe you an apology. I think I misread you and set in motion events this evening that have made you uncomfortable."
I was dumbfounded. I had led her on and she was apologizing to me?
She looked up and right into my eyes. "Lynne, I am a lesbian and I find you enthralling. You are a warm, friendly, and intelligent young woman. You have to be one of the most naturally beautiful women I know; both inside and out. But I realize now that you likely do not return my interest. I hope we can develop a friendship. I have not had a true lady friend in many years."
What? She knew there was nothing natural about my face.
I was stunned to hear her admission even though I had been entertaining the notion all night and more than suspected after she repeated that toast. But to hear it out and freely given; her apology, simple and truthful made me ashamed for my jumping to extreme catastrophic consequences of my rejecting her romantically and sexually.
She was truly remarkable and I did not deserve her admiration.
"I have a confession of my own." My voice was barely audible. This was truly painful and I dropped my gaze to the floor. I was about to admit to leading her on and that I was confused by my own behavior when she stopped me dead in my tracks.
She said something which truly shocked me.
"I met your girlfriend when you were in your coma."
I looked at her blinking my eyes in rapid succession trying to process that statement.
She must have sensed my confusion. "The pretty blonde-haired girl came around every day for a few hours until she was asked to leave by your family. I had spoken to her. She was very upset and told me that she loved you but had made a terrible mistake and now it was too late to fix things. I naturally presumed that you were once lovers."
In a flash I realized the only person she could have meant.
Haley was the girlfriend, but; we only kissed each other in bars. I had assumed it was because we had realized that our drinks were free if we pretended to be two pretty lesbian girlfriends who were possibly available under the right circumstances. It wasn't honest, but we were young and the attention was almost more intoxicating than the alcohol. I had never known that she visited me while I was in a coma because I had stopped talking to her. It was about 2 months before my accident when we had ended up kissing in private and it had turned me on. When she shoved it in my face, I was scared and very recklessly retaliated by having a drunken one-night stand with a man I had just met. I transferred the shame and guilt of the whole affair onto her and never spoke to her again. I didn't know what to say! I realized that I had treated her very badly, but everything had happened at once!
I had gotten pregnant that night.
I never told anyone.
I knew there was a problem when my nipples and areola had turned a plum color. But I was desperate to deny it.
My nipples had always been a rosy light-pink and then one day I noticed that they were a noticeably darker shade of rose. I also realized that my bra wasn't fitting as well as it had and actually that my breasts felt fuller. I was approaching my period and I had attributed it to just the normal swelling and tenderness of my menses.
I didn't think I had missed my period; it had been just a few days early and the flow was lighter than usual. But I was relieved because foolishly I hadn't used protection with the cowboy and I knew that darkening of nipples was often an early sign of pregnancy. I reasoned that maybe it was just the tanning bed that was causing a hyperpigmentation.
But when I missed the next one, I knew. My previous "period" had been the spotting and cramping from the implantation of an embryo. I must have realized it on one level, but I was unconsciously doing things to avoid noticing.
It sounds weird, but I have heard it is common for many people.
I attributed my mood swings to being upset about Haley and guilt over my out-of-character action of sleeping with a stranger. I worked as an ER nurse so loose-fitting scrubs were the uniform of the day at work and I just wore sweats and loose tee-shirts at home. Showers were all business because I was usually running late for time. And working so much was what was making me tired all of the time.
At least I hadn't had morning sickness.
I had waited out as long as I could until there was just no denying that I had missed my period. That morning, I got out of my shower and looked critically at my body in the mirror. I had put on a little weight. There was no denying that my belly was distended a little as if I were really bloated. My breasts had grown almost one cup size. (In my denial, I was still trying to fit them into my regular bras.) When I examined my breasts I realized the slightly darker rose of my areola that had originally gotten my attention was now a rich plum color. They were larger in diameter and there were these new small bumps in the areola periphery. The nipples had plumped and were very prominent.
There was no denying it anymore; my body was going through the changes of early pregnancy. But I still had to confirm.
That night, I had taken a pregnancy test from the ER supply. I didn't take it until the end of the shift but I know I had to have to have been acting distracted all day. I went into the staff bathroom, locked the door and pee'd on the stick.
It was positive. I had counted back to the only night it could have been and determined that I was about 10 weeks pregnant. I left work somewhat in a daze and then was involved in that horrific accident.
When they told me I had lost the baby after I came out of the coma, I had been really confused because I didn't remember being pregnant. It became a part of the confusion of recovery and I hope it doesn't make me sound like a bad person, but I hadn't had time to come to grips with being pregnant before my accident. I know intellectually it was a part of me that died, but losing my baby was no more emotional for me than losing a tooth.
I had been living numbly for the last three years and now was time to pay the piper.
