I pull back the covers and am shocked to find her looking up at me from between my legs. Her green eyes twinkling up at me as if she has been waiting for me. While holding my gaze she presses her mouth deeply onto me.
I wake up with a start. "What. Was. That?" I say under my breath.
"I didn't hear anything." My husband says groggily from the pillow next to me.
"I didn't mean to wake you." I whisper. "I was having a dream."
He rolls over and reaches down to clumsily cup my genitals over my sleep shorts. "Was it a sexy dream?"
I jump out of bed and lie, "I don't remember. I don't think so. I just need some water."
I head quickly to the door. "Go back to sleep, I may watch tv on the couch for a bit until my heart rate goes back to normal."
"Mmmkay, miss you." He says, sounding like he's already three-quarters of the way back to sleep anyway.
***
I make myself a mug of green tea and pray that it will cure me of the discomfort that I have had since last week when I met her, the customer who withdrew her entire life savings in cash.
"Liz." I whisper, as if someone might hear me.
Elizabeth Duboix. "Liz" she offered, after having provided her full legal name so I could pull up her account.
"You're just weird! That's why I can't stop thinking about you!" I say into my dark kitchen. "Who actually does that? Gambles away their life savings... I bet you're stranded in Vegas without a dime right now. God!!" I clap my hands over my mouth only just realizing I'm saying all of this out-loud.
"Why do I even care?" I ask myself as I grab the remote and roughly pull up Netflix and scroll to my "continue watching" row. I laugh when I see I'd last been watching "The Ultimatum: Queer Love"...
"That's why I had that dream." I offer as an explanation to myself. "I guess Dad was right, watching shows with gay characters in it does make you gay!" I laugh to myself, because this is a regular debate topic ever since I 'came out' as a Democratic Socialist.
I was raised in an extremely hetero-normative conservative culture. I know exactly what Republicans mean when they say "traditional family values". My first husband has two masters degrees from a Baptist Seminary and firmly enforced our household hierarchy of God-Husband-Wife-Children. No exceptions.
I have my adult-education Sociology degree, and a decade of therapy to thank for my slightly more open minded view of relationship structures that has led to my much more loving and equitable second marriage.
I clamp my eyes shut and whisper "I love my husband. I am straight." I say, as if they are inextricably linked facts.
"You only turn gayΒ if you are gay!" I hear Martin's voice echo in the back of my mind.
All of us at the bank found ourselves really bonded after the last presidential election cycle. We are lucky that we all share the same perspectives about human and civil rights hot topics. We regularly share social media posts in the break room and offer commentary on issues like the very staunch conservatives who are trying to ban books with "non-traditional family values". "Straight people don't have to worry..." I hear Martin saying, in my head. "You can only turn gayΒ if you are gay!" We all laughed in vehement agreement.
I finish my now room-temp tea in two gulps, run my hands roughly over my face and through my hair. I turn off the TV, and resolve to force myself back to sleep.
"I'm losing my mind."
***
"You're making another pot of coffee?" Martin asks as he walks into the breakroom, startling me.
"Yeah. No sleep." I answer with as few words as possible to conserve energy. I am exhausted and angry about it.
"You know it's just going to make you anxious, but I'm here for it." He jokes with a playful smile.
"No. YOU make me anxious." I retort without a smile.
"Wait. Are we fighting for real?" He asks.
"I don't know... No." I say unconvincingly.