Maternity Leave (36 page)

I felt like a teenager because I had no idea what I was doing. I told Alyssa I was better at blow jobs and she told me to shut up. I took her advice and didn’t say anything else the entire evening. At first it was an effort. I was so turned on and nervous, I had to stop myself from making stupid jokes. Fortunately, I became speechless as I became more and more aroused. Until Alyssa pulled my pants down, I feared I would come in my pants from the very little bit of pressure my jeans put on my clit. I avoided that, only to climax when I straddled Alyssa, her stomach touching me as she sucked my nipples was too much. I was embarrassed by how quickly I came, but Alyssa didn’t seem to mind. I began concentrating on getting Alyssa off and came again while going down on her. Thank God I wasn’t a guy. I’d have to work on my stamina.

When we got back to the Jensens’, everyone was asleep. We tiptoed in and went our separate ways.

The next day, I told Danny that I was officially gay.

“So you’re cool with never seeing a cock again?” he said as only Danny can.

“Yes siree,” I answered. “If I could whistle, I’d be whistling now.”

“Really? You can’t whistle?” Danny asked, not engaging in the other discussion even though it was obvious from his face that it was where his focus was.

“Yes. Don’t know how.” I said, perfectly content to end the discussion there.

A few minutes passed, then Danny decided not to let it go and said, “You’ve been dating guys your whole life. You don’t think you’ll miss it?”

“I was hoping to fuck Alyssa and think, phew, I’m straight. That didn’t happen.”

“You don’t think you’re at least bi?” he asked as neutrally as he could, though it was obvious he had a vested interest in my response.

“I may be too into Alyssa to make that decision objectively right now, but I’m pretty sure. I hope I’m gay.”

“I thought you just said you would have been relieved if you hated sex with a girl.”

“Yeah, it would be easier to be straight than gay and not have to tell everyone I’ve known since birth that, oopsy daisy, I like pussy. But, I’d rather be gay than bi. Bisexual has such an ‘I fuck-anything’ connotation.”

Danny scoffed and said, “Your dating criteria is so strict you should open up the field to both sexes, and animals. You’d have more success.”

“Well hopefully this works out. I’m sick of dating and I think I really like Alyssa. Plus this would be such a convenient relationship. We could drive to races together and hang out.”

“She lives in Georgia,” Danny said.

“Maybe I’ll move there.”

“This would be a good time to tell you the oldest lesbian joke in the book,” Danny said.

“What’s that?”

“What does a lesbian bring to a second date?”

“What?” I asked.

“A U-Haul.”

“Ha ha,” I said dryly, a little annoyed that Danny was being such a dick. “It’s good training up there, it wouldn’t just be for Alyssa.”

“How do you feel about taking the Georgia bar?”

My stomach heaved. “Fine, maybe I won’t move there, but I’ll still see her often enough. We both go to pro races nine months of the year.”

“No you don’t. You race during your three week vacation time. Except when you have maternity leave.”

“Well, I want to start racing full time. I’ll figure something out.”

“I’m sure you will,” he said. Danny had always admired my ability to get whatever I wanted, but this time he sounded bitter.

On Stages 11, 12 and 13, we continued north on some of the steepest roads I’d ever encountered. By design, Route 101 along the coast never had an incline of more than eleven percent because the road had to be accessible to logging trucks. As you ride it, you can still see the forest being carted away on large trucks. Unlike Route 101, the mountains around wine country have grades of up to twenty-four percent, which is essentially a wall. Though I failed to win a stage, I placed in the top five consistently during these stages, as well as the stage that took us through Redwood National Park. Throughout it all, Sonny sat ten feet behind me in the car, howling incessantly. Erica had nixed the muzzle, deciding she preferred noise to bloodstains. While she was clearly annoyed with him, she listened to him without complaint because I was now in fourth place, inching nearer to the podium every day.

During these stages, I hung out with Alyssa a lot. When I wasn’t with Alyssa, I was analyzing every homo and hetero thought I’d had since birth. What was my “root”? When I was a kid, kindergarten age, I begged my mom for a pixie haircut. She finally relented and when I went to camp shortly thereafter, everyone called me a boy and was mean to me. I didn’t tell my parents about it, or that I cried every night, but I started trying to act girly after that experience. I never had short hair again. Wow, that’s a sad story.

I remembered telling my parents that boys were gross and I’d never like them. As I grew up, my parents’ friends would ask me in that tone of voice adults use to tease children and think it’s funny, “Do you have a boyfriend yet?” Right up until fifth grade I said, “No. Boys are gross.” That was around the time my parents seemed concerned instead of amused. I could sense they thought I was abnormal, so the next day I got myself my first boyfriend. A boyfriend didn’t actually mean anything in fifth grade except proving normalcy, as all we really did was hold hands. In middle school, I realized that everyone else was French kissing, so I had my first French kiss even though I wasn’t overwhelmed with desire to kiss my sixth grade boyfriend of the week. In high school, it was not a challenge for me to be a tease and stay a virgin. However, in college I felt odd being a virgin so I lost my virginity. I didn’t have a root that made me gay, I had a lot of anti-roots that kept me straight. Though I was the happiest I’d ever been, racing and hanging out with Alyssa, I spent a lot of my days focusing on how stupid I was that it took me twenty-eight years to figure out the reason I’d never had a successful relationship with a guy.

* * *

In Eureka, California, just south of the Oregon border, we stayed in a host house with five guest bedrooms, enough for each of us to have a bed if we shared two to a bed. As luck would have it, Alyssa and I were assigned a queen-sized bed in one of these rooms.

After the race, the team went out for dinner. I spent the entire meal eagerly anticipating my evening with Alyssa, the first since our car date. But when we got back to the room, Alyssa, to my considerable disappointment, turned on the television to watch
The Bachelor
. We watched together and when it was over, she said good night and went to bed. I sat there, wanting to touch every part of Alyssa all night in lieu of sleep and she had her back to me. I thought about initiating conversation, but didn’t know what to say. I was mystified and confused.

I walked over to Danny’s room.

“Hey there vagina town,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight.”

“Hilarious,” I said, chuckling a little in spite of my mood.

“So how was it?” Danny pleaded, “You can tell me details. I won’t get grossed out.”

“There are no details, we watched
The Bachelor
and she went to bed.”

“What did she say?”

“Just that she was tired and going to bed. She didn’t say it apologetically either. It’s like she didn’t even notice that we were alone together for the first and probably last time during this race.”

“So, she’s tired,” Danny offered.

“Of course she’s tired. We’re all tired. What does that have to do with anything? There must be something else. She had enough energy to watch that show and trust me, that’s taxing.”

“What else could it be?” Danny asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “You massage her, did you notice anything?”

“Like a white spot of yeast infection discharge on my massage table sheet?” Danny responded innocently.

I cringed but smiled a little. It was pretty funny. “No.” I said. “I mean does she have any weird chafe marks or saddle sores she might not want me to see?”

“Nope,” he replied, “not that I saw.”

“I’m pissed,” I said.

“Pissed or frustrated?” Danny asked.

“Both, but mostly pissed at this point. I shaved my legs even though I didn’t have to for a few more days. I bought and applied really expensive good smelling lotion instead of just letting my dry skin flake off, and wore my best black lacy bra and underwear instead of sitting around in my comfortable pajamas.”

“So, are you still wearing all that?” Danny asked suggestively.

“I’m not saying that to be titillating. I’m venting. That underwear has never gone to the wash unnoticed or unappreciated. This would never happen with a guy.”

“No it wouldn’t. So are you reevaluating the whole lesbian thing?” Danny asked, clearly focusing on keeping his face and voice as neutral as possible.

“Not sure, but I’m reevaluating the whole Alyssa thing.”

“Really?” Danny asked.

“No. I wish. I’m still obsessed with her. I just don’t get it. She seemed completely uninterested in me.”

“How is it that you’re interested in someone who watches
The Bachelor
?” Danny asked.

“I don’t know. That and the reincarnated conquistador thing really should have cured me of my crush.”

“Just get some sleep,” Danny suggested, trying to sound supportive though I think he was enjoying my misery. “You have some big stages coming up.”

I went back to the room and lay next to Alyssa, wanting to press my body against hers as she slept. I wanted unlimited access to her body and I wanted it immediately. Instead of sleeping, I stared at the ceiling and thought of every excuse in the book for her to deny me. The obvious fear was that it was because I sucked in bed. However, I knew she came last time and she should cut me some slack since it was my first crack at it and we were in a car. She could also just be uninterested in me, but I pushed that thought away because I thought I might cry like a little girl. I thought up other excuses, ones that didn’t involve me. Maybe she was tired. After all, she was a sprinter not a mountain climber, so these climbing days were harder for her even though she was going slower than me. Or, I thought, she could be jealous because I was doing so well. Or, maybe she doesn’t feel comfortable having sex in a stranger’s house. Or she could be having her period. After creating all of these excuses, I finally fell asleep knowing that something wasn’t right. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. I slept lightly, afraid I might accidentally snuggle with her in my sleep.

The following day was another steep mountain stage. Though I’d slept poorly, I had a good day and placed fifth. Consequently, I entered the second and final time trial, a twenty-five mile course through Eugene, Oregon, in fourth place overall. It was beyond my wildest dreams, but instead of being content, I wanted to move up, onto the podium.

Eugene is home to the University of Oregon and the time trial course was lined with students drinking beer and cheering us on, cameras ready to catch any crashes for YouTube. Unfortunately for the students, crashes were rare in the solitary time trial. I placed fifth, my highest placing against the clock thus far. I attributed my improvement to better recuperation after the long mountain stages than the time trial specialists that had beaten me earlier, before we had more than a thousand miles in our legs. The time trial result moved me up to third place overall. I was ecstatic at the prospect of entering the second rest day in a podium position, with only six days left of racing.

That evening, I couldn’t take it anymore. I waited until Alyssa was alone on the couch she would be sleeping on and asked her what was wrong.

“Nothing,” she said. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we missed an excellent opportunity for sex last night and you’ve seemed distant since then. Is it something I said or did?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“Nothing?” I asked again, and again.

“Well,” she said, her resolve softening. “I’ll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“Okay,” I said, more than curious.

“I have herpes,” she said.

“What?” I couldn’t disguise the disgusted look on my face.

“I’ve never given it to anyone to my knowledge so I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve never even had it really, I just know I’m a carrier.”

I knew this game. She was telling me she had herpes so she could get rid of me without hurting me. In high school, it was my strategy for getting rid of guys guilt free, though I never made up an STD. I didn’t want that answer from Alyssa, I wanted the real reason she’d lost interest in me. I wanted to know so that I could fix it and make her like me again. “Well, it was sweet of you not to infect me last night, but you could have already infected me last week so I don’t buy it.”

“I’m sure I didn’t. It’s never flared up.”

“So, you don’t think it’s contagious, but even if it is, you may have already infected me. I don’t think that’s the problem. What’s the real reason you didn’t sleep with me last night?” I asked, even though I knew how annoying it was to be in her situation.

She stared at me uncomfortably, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong. I just, I don’t know, I hit a wall with you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. My heart was beating quickly and my mouth tasted like bile.

“Nothing, I still really like you and want to hang out, but I hit a wall and I need to figure stuff out.”

I stared at Alyssa. She was barefoot and wearing jeans and somehow made it look sophisticated. This made me realize that I was sitting cross-legged like an elementary school student next to her. I unfolded my legs and crossed them, then leaned back into the couch. Alyssa was looking down and fidgeting with the remote but not touching any buttons. I had no fucking idea what she was talking about. And I was livid that she’d either exposed me to herpes or didn’t have herpes and just brought it up to get rid of me. With that, I walked away.

I sat outside the massage room, waiting to be the next customer. When I got in, I told Danny what Alyssa said.