By Design (5 page)

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Authors: J. A. Armstrong

Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Literature & Fiction, #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Romance, #Lesbian Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Lgbt, #Lesbian Fiction, #Short Stories

BOOK: By Design
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“Oh, like Jessica?”

“Jameson is not Jessica,” Candace answered
harshly.

“Because you are not sleeping with her? Or, are
you? There is more than one way to cheat, Mother.”

Pearl put her face in her hands and braced herself
for the response she anticipated. Michelle and Jonah looked at the older woman
and then to their mother. “My life is just that, Marianne; my life. I certainly
do not need your guidance on dishonesty.”

“Quick to defend this woman; aren’t you?”

“Jameson does not need me to defend
her,
” Candace said. She watched the screen in
front of her and recognized her daughter’s mounting protest. She effectively
ended it before it could begin. “She doesn’t need me to, but she certainly
deserves at least that much from me.” Candace saw Marianne bristle and heard
her begin to speak. She held up a finger in warning. “You are entitled to
whatever opinions you wish about my life, my home, and my career. It’s a free
country. I should know. I will
thank you to keep
your uninformed and rude
judgments
about
the people in my life to yourself. I raised you better than that.”

“I am simply…”

“I am simply telling you that this conversation is
over,” Candace said sternly.

“Mother


“I’ll give you to your sister,” Candace said.
“Kiss Spencer for me.”

“Mother, this woman could be…”

“Marianne!” Candace finally yelled. “I have had
enough. Jameson has done nothing to warrant your scrutiny and skepticism. Now,
enjoy the rest of your weekend. I will talk you to you next week.” Candace got
up from her seat. “Michelle,” she called over to her younger daughter. Michelle
looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “You and Jonah come and visit with
your sister.” She forced a small smile and headed toward the kitchen.

Pearl followed a few moments later and found
Candace holding
onto the sink
to steady
the shaking in her body. “Candy,” she said gently.

“She has no right to attack Jameson,” Candace said
angrily.

“No, she doesn’t.”

Michelle had noted the uncharacteristic trembling
in her mother’s hands as she left the room. She left Jonah to chat with
Marianne, making the excuse that she needed
to use
the bathroom quickly
so that she could check on her mother. The sound of
voices stopped her just shy of her destination. She lingered outside the
kitchen, listening to the two women who had instructed her the most in life.

“Candy?” Pearl called again. “You know; you are
right, Jameson is not Jessica.”

“I know.”

“I hope you do know.”

Candace turned to Pearl. Pearl wiped a tear from
the corner of Candace’s eye. “Give it time, my love. Give it some time.”

“She could be my daughter.”

 
“And, you
could be mine,” Pearl said with a wink.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean. She’ll keep you on your
toes,” Pearl chuckled.

Candace smiled. “I don’t think she sees me…”

“Oh, love; she sees you.”

“You know what I mean,” Candace said.

“Yes, I do. Maybe it’s you who is afraid to see
her,” Pearl suggested. Candace sighed. “Give it time, Candy,” she said. She
kissed the senator’s forehead as Candy began to cry and wrapped the woman in
her motherly embrace. “Life is strange sometimes. It tends to take us where we
need to go, if we let it, that is,” she comforted the woman in her arms. “I
love you, Candy.”

“I love you too Mama Pearl.”

“I know you do, so trust me.”

Michelle stood completely still as the
conversation beyond the wall turned silent. She’d only heard her mother cry a
few times in her life, and she’d never heard her mother refer to Pearl as Mama
before. She wondered who this Jameson person was that she could have affected
her mother so deeply. “Oh, Marianne; I think you are in for a surprise.”

Michelle
looked back at her mother and took a deep breath for courage. She didn’t want
her mother to think that she had been deliberately eavesdropping on a private
conversation.
She had intended to check on her
mother, but the tender exchange between the two women she loved most in her
life had stopped her in her tracks. Something in Pearl’s words to her mother
had struck a chord within Michelle.
She felt the need to reach out
somehow. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said.

“Sorry?
What are you sorry for?” Candace wondered. Michelle just hung her head. “Shell?”

“I’m
sorry Marianne upset you so much.”

Candace
nodded. “I’m all right.”

“Mom?”

“Yes?”


Is…
Jameson is important to you,” Michelle said
quietly.

Candace
was surprised at the observation. “She’s a friend.”

Michelle
let the response linger for a while. She returned her focus to the book in her
lap. She thought a different approach might be more successful. After she had
felt
a sufficient amount of time had passed to
lower her mother’s guard, she spoke. “Is she pretty?” Michelle asked a bit
playfully.

“She’s
beautiful,” Candace replied as if the question had come
from within
. Realizing that it had come from
Michelle,
she flushed with embarrassment. “I


“I
figured,” Michelle commented with a smile.

“It’s
not what,” Candace began to stammer. Michelle arched an eyebrow at her mother.
“Shell, it’s not like that. She’s a
friend;
that’s all.”

Michelle
smiled at her mother. “I look forward to meeting her.”

“You
want to meet Jameson?” Candace suddenly felt a wave of nausea hit her.

“Some
reason that you wouldn’t want me to?”

“No,
of course, not.”

Michelle
giggled. “Don’t worry Mom, I prefer them short and blonde, or maybe redhead. I
guess I could…”

“What?”
Candace interrupted.

“What
do you mean; what?” Michelle laughed. “And, I prefer them under thirty.”
Candace’s jaw fell slack. “Mom?
You did
know that I like girls? I mean, you met Donna. You met Rebecca.”

Candace
started to laugh. “Your sister will
undoubtedly
blame me.”

“I
didn’t think I needed to spell it out for you,” Michelle laughed. “And, don’t
let Marianne fool you.”

“Excuse
me?”

“She
kissed more than one cheerleader under a bleacher,” Michelle winked.

“Stop!”

“Okay,
I made that up,” Michelle admitted.

“Why
didn’t you tell me before now?” Candace asked.

“You
mean you really didn’t know?”

“No,
I knew,” Candace admitted.

“I
guess I just was waiting for the right time.”

“Why
now?”

Michelle
went to sit beside her mother. “Maybe I just thought you should know that I
love you no matter what, just like I know you love me no matter what.”

“I
know that,” Candace said.

“So?”

“What?”
Candace chuckled.

“Come
on, Mom, the architect? Beautiful?”

“Do
you have any idea how odd this conversation is?” Candace asked.

“What?
A lesbian mom and her lesbian daughter talking about hot
chics
?”

“Shell,
I think I am past the hot chics phase.”

“So,
Jameson isn’t hot?”

Candace
threw a pillow at her daughter. “Are you sure you haven’t already met?”

“Why?
Think she’d like me?”

“Lunatics,”
Candace laughed. “I am certain she will.”

“Good!
Let’s call her!” Michelle ran for the phone. Candace just laughed. “Chicken!”
Michelle taunted her mother. “You can argue with heads of state and you’re
afraid to call one little lesbian?”

“No,
smart ass. She’s away for the weekend.”

“What?
She has
no phone? Is she impaired
somehow; technically? How old is this woman?” Michelle narrowed her gaze.

“No,
she’s not impaired; technically or otherwise,” Candace replied. Michelle waited
for her mother
to continue with a growing
smirk. “All right! She’s thirty-five!” Candace exclaimed in exasperation.

“Oh
my God, my mother is a cougar! Senator Candace Cougar!”

“What
part of she is a friend did you not understand?” Candace laughed at her
daughter’s theatrics.

“A
young, smart, hot, happens to be a lesbian friend,” Michelle pointed out.
Candace rolled her eyes. “So, why are you lying on that couch? Don’t you have
her number?”

“Of
course.”

“Hello!”

“Shell!”
Candace couldn’t help but laugh. Michelle was, in many ways, her best friend.
They had always been kindred spirits. Candace thought most people would find it
unbelievable, but she had felt the bond between them from the moment Michelle
was born
. Much like she had felt a bond with
Pearl the first day she sat with her in her granddad’s kitchen, and much like
the connection she felt the moment she saw Jameson Reid standing in her
doorway. She shook her head. “She’s a friend. A friend who happens to be twenty
years my junior,” she reminded her daughter.

Michelle
retrieved her mother’s cell phone from the side table and put it in Candace’s
hand. “Senator Fletcher, meet the twenty-first century,” she said. Candace
sighed. “We can watch the news on phones we carry in our pockets, open car
doors without a key, a woman can marry anyone she chooses, even another woman,
even if she is…wait for it twenty years younger, oh, and the entire world now
knows Rock Hudson was, in
fact,
gay,”
Michelle declared.

“I’m
not getting married,” Candace said flatly.

“Won’t
be getting much of anything if you can’t even make a call,” Michelle said with
a broad
grin before starting to run away.

 
Candace threw another pillow
at
her daughter. “Lunatic!”

“Call
her!”

Candace
looked at the phone in her hands and sighed. “Call her, huh?”

“Might
help!”

With
a deep breath, Candace closed her eyes and pressed the name on the screen.

Chapter Six: Baby
Steps

“Hello?” Jameson answered the call in disbelief.
Candace found herself
tongue-tied
for a
moment, wondering what excuse she could use for the call. “Candace?” Jameson
began. “You there?”

“Sorry, yes, I’m here.”

“Did you butt
dial
me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you called me, but you sound surprised to
hear my voice,” Jameson observed with a chuckle.

Candace laughed softly. “I’m not sure my butt, as
you put it, is quite that talented,” she said in reply.

“That’s a good thing, trust me. Dana dialed me
once at about one in the morning. Let’s just say I got an earful of more than I
ever needed to hear,” Jameson said. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Nothing, unless you would like to bring over some
Chinese food to go with this bottle of wine I opened.”

“Craving Chinese food? Really? Too much home
cooking?” Jameson asked.

“Let’s just say I could use a fortune cookie about
now,” Candace said. “How’s your visit home?”

“Fine. Always interesting here.
Lots of unsolicited motherly advice.
You know
how it goes.”

“Mm. I do, except in my case it seems to be lots
of unsolicited daughters’ advice.”

“Oh.” Candace had told Jameson a bit about all of
her children. Pearl had filled in some of the blanks. “Issues with the
remodel?”

“If Marianne could, she would
remodel
my entire life,” Candace answered
flatly.

“Ouch.”

“Then again, so would Shell; just in a different
way it seems,” Candace laughed.

“Sounds like a spirited weekend.”

“I’ll tell you something, they never
really
change and as much as they think they
grow up; they never really change,” Candace said affectionately. She was still
angry with Marianne’s line of questioning and her daughter’s unfair assessment
of Jameson, but that was Marianne. At the end of the day, Candace loved all
three of her children more than anything in her life, even with their quirks, habits,
and unwanted advice.

Jameson listened to the sudden
lilt
in Candace’s voice. “So, wine to celebrate
the remodel or wine to forget about it?”

“Depends on which remodel you are talking about;
my house or my life?”

“Do you want to remodel your life?” Jameson asked.

“No,” Candace replied. Jameson nodded on the other
end of the phone. “Shell was quite interested in your plans,” Candace said.

“Oh really? Which would she like to see more of;
the Roman statuary or the bird watching motif?”

Candace laughed. “I think you could leave out the
well-endowed Romans,” she said. “So, I’ll assume she will agree with me on the
other as well. Seems my
daughter,
and I
have similar tastes.”

“Apple didn’t fall far from the tree, as they
say?”

“Not that
apple
it appears.”

Jameson laughed. “Did you know?”

“That Shell was a lesbian?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew. I was beginning to wonder if she did
though,” Candace chuckled.

“You sound like my mother when I finally told her.
How is it mothers seem to know these things before we do? Is it a hormone or
something?”

Candace laughed at the genuine curiosity in
Jameson’s voice. “If it is, I am unaware of it. I think it’s just that we have
years to observe;
everything
. That’s what
mothers do the most; you know? Observe. I’m sure my children would disagree,
but it’s true. You only advise based on what you’ve come to understand. In my
experience, it’s easier most times for an outsider to see things objectively.”

“Sounds like motherhood was good preparation for
the
congress
,” Jameson interjected.

“I think it was,” Candace replied honestly. The
conversation seemed
to come abruptly
to a
halt; neither woman certain of what to say next. “So; when are you heading
back?” Candace asked.

“Not sure yet,” Jameson replied. “You?”

“Shell is leaving late afternoon tomorrow. I fly
back to D.C. Monday. Tomorrow will be a quiet day for us.”

“Chinese food?” Jameson suggested.

“Perhaps….Listen, sorry if I interrupted your….”

“You can interrupt me
any time
,” Jameson said.

Candace took a shaky breath. “Travel safely.”

“Don’t worry. I promised to obey all the signs on
the way here. I’ll behave on the way home. I am, after all, working for a
lawmaker
. Wouldn’t be prudent to start breaking
them.”

“I suppose not,” Candace agreed. “I’ll see you
soon.”

“I hope so.” Jameson took a deep breath.
“Candace?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you called. I was getting bored with no
one to torture.”

Candace smiled. “Glad I could be your willing
victim,” she said. “I’ll look forward to seeing what you devise for future
torment.” Jameson laughed. “Good night, Jameson.”

“Night, Senator.”

***

Jameson felt her heart begin to thunder in her
chest as she pulled her car into the long, narrow driveway that led to Candace
Fletcher’s home. She glanced across to the passenger seat at the large paper
bag that sat beside her. “Well, look at it this way,” she said aloud. “If no
one is home, you won’t have to grocery shop for a week.”

“Mom?” Candace made her way to the sound of
Michelle’s voice. “There’s a car headed up the driveway.” Candace peered out
the window with her daughter. The moment she saw Jameson’s car, she began to
smile. Michelle looked at her mother and fought to conceal her knowing smirk.
“Let me guess; Jameson?”

Candace nodded and headed for the front door just
as Jameson was exiting her car. She stood on the front step, smiling at the
approaching architect. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Didn’t you request Chinese food?” Jameson held up
the bag.

Candace bit her lip gently as Jameson stepped up
to her. “You’re a lunatic; you know that?” she asked. Jameson just winked. “You
drove all the way back here from Ithaca to deliver Chinese food?”

“Maybe I just missed you,” Jameson said without
thinking. Candace stared at the woman before her as her heart rate instantly
increased. “Besides, Pearl would never forgive me if you drank wine on an empty
stomach,” Jameson pointed out. “Are you going to let me in?” she asked
playfully.


Depends
,”
Candace said.

“On?”

“How many fortune cookies are in that bag?”

“I don’t need a cookie to predict your future,”
Jameson said.

“Really?”

Jameson closed her eyes and pretended to
concentrate. “I see it now; chicken wings, spare ribs, lo mein, and wine.” She
opened her eyes. “How’d I do?”

“Get in here, you lunatic.” Candace pulled Jameson
through the door. “Shell!” Michelle sauntered into the hallway from the living
room. “Jameson, this is my daughter, Michelle. Shell, this is Jameson Reid,
snarky architect and part-time Chinese delivery driver.”

Michelle smiled. “Nice to meet you, Jameson.”

“J.D.,” Jameson said. “For some reason, your
mother and Pearl insist on calling me Jameson. Everybody else calls me J.D.”

“It’s your name; isn’t it?” Candace asked.

“That it is, Senator Fletcher.”

Candace rolled her
eyes,
and Michelle reached for the bag in Jameson’s hands. “I’ll call you anything
you’d like,” Michelle said, “as long as you feed me.” She took the bag and
headed off
for
the kitchen.

“That’s the apple nearest the tree, huh?” Jameson
asked. Candace nodded. “This should be
an
interesting
lunch.”

“You hoping to torture in tandem?” Candace asked.
Jameson shrugged. “That’s what I thought.”

***

 
“I never
knew you had a pet bird,” Michelle looked at her mother. “That’s the real
reason why you never let us have a cat; isn’t it?”

Candace mock glared at Jameson, who in turn
snickered. “Don’t you have things to pack?” Candace asked her daughter.

Michelle winked at Jameson. “I suppose I do. I am
surprised though.”

“About what?” Candace asked.

“Mom, you’ve run against some of the meanest
S.O.B.’s in the country and you’re afraid of a cat?”

“I am not afraid of a cat,” Candace said
indignantly. “I just prefer not to have to deal with them.”

“What did he look like?” Michelle asked.

“Who?” Candace replied.

“Jinx. What did he look like?”

“Black. He was a black cat. No one should name a
black cat Jinx,” she groaned. “This is what happens.” Jameson hid her face in
her hands to quell her laughter. Senator Candace Fletcher had, in an instant,
taken on the persona of a wounded eight-year-old girl.

“You know, you always told us we needed face our
fears to overcome them,” Michelle reminded her mother.

“I am not afraid of cats!” Candace defended
herself. “Are you trying to tell me that you think I should allow Jameson to wallpaper
this house with cats?”

Michelle shrugged. “No, I think you should get
one. Pearl loves them. It would keep her company when you are away. And, Mom…a
cat is not going to eat wallpaper. Let J.D. put up the birds. It’s pretty.”

Candace looked over
at
Jameson,
who kept her face
hidden in her hands. “Did you see this in my future?” Candace directed her
question to Jameson.

“Well, your cookie did say
Soon you will meet a friend from your
past
,
” Jameson pointed out.

Candace smacked Jameson lightly. “I smell a
conspiracy.”

Michelle laughed. “I’m out of here before she
bombards me with pillows again,” she said. “It was nice meeting you J.D.”

“You too, Shell,” Jameson said. Candace sat
shaking her head as she watched Michelle leave the room. “That
apple
is
definitely
from the same tree,” Jameson said definitively.

Candace shook her head again. “Lunatics,” she
grumbled.

“Why don’t you?” Jameson asked.

“Why don’t I what?”

“Get a cat?” Jameson replied.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Candace
wondered.

“No.”

“You’re serious.”

“Well? She doesn’t think you will,” Jameson
gestured up the stairs. She was
confident
that Candace would take the bait. She enjoyed all of her conversations with
Candace, but Jameson took particular pleasure in their banter.

Candace considered the statement for a moment.
Jameson was issuing her a challenge, much like Michelle just had. Candace never
backed down from a challenge. The youngest of three children, and the only
girl; that was a lesson she had mastered early in life. A devious smile edged
its way onto her lips. “I’ll tell you what,” she began. “You find a black, male
cat that needs a home and I will agree to allow him the pleasure of Pearl’s
company.”

Jameson pretended to consider the offer. “Done….If
you name him Jinx.”

“Done,” Candace agreed.

“One question,” Jameson said.

“What is that?” Candace folded her arms across her
chest.

“Whom should I bill
for this service
I am rendering; you or Jinx?” Jameson asked
thoughtfully.

Candace lost all hope of maintaining her stoicism
and laughed. “You are certifiable.”

***

“What on
Earth
is in there?” Pearl asked Jameson.

“In here?” Jameson pointed to the cardboard
carrier.

“Yes, Jameson; in there.”

“Oh, that. That’s Jinx.” The look on Pearl’s face
was
comical,
and Jameson started
laughing.

“Explain yourself, young lady.”

“Well, Candace agreed that if I could find a
black, male cat that needed a home, she would allow him the pleasure of your
company,” Jameson explained. Pearl’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “I agreed to
find a needy feline as long as she agreed to name him Jinx. It’s actually Shell’s
fault.”

Pearl shook her head as if to clear her confusion.
“What does Michelle have to do with this nonsense?”

Jameson sighed dramatically and set down the
carrier. “We were having lunch and I was showing Shell some of the wallpaper
designs. That led to the whole story of the cat that ate the canary
….

“Go on.”

“And, later Shell told Candace that she needed to
face her fears.”

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