For Better Or Worse (2 page)

Julie was clearly happier with this line of conversation. “Oh yes, especially my juniors this year.

They have a lot of energy.”

The cocktail party lasted another hour or so, during which time I was a good pup and remained mindful of every word I uttered. I did manage to have an intelligent discussion with Marion about Virginia Woolf (it was nice to have the subject come up and actually manage to get past the word “dolorous”), and otherwise I followed Julie around. As we were leaving, I helped Julie on with her jacket and I opened the door for her. By that time I thought I had pretty well made amends.

I took Julie’s hand as we made our way down the steps and she tugged it free again. Apparently, I was wrong. “Julie?”

“Fuck you, Gail.

“Oh, come on, Julie.”

She turned the corner and walked another half a block before she finally stopped and turned around. I’d been trailing a few steps behind, waiting for her to let me have it. “Damn you, Gail.”

Crap. And there it was. “Julie, I was only joking.”

“It wasn’t funny! She’s a co-worker and that was a nice party. I can’t take you anywhere!”

“Julie, baby,” I said, trying to sound apologetic. “I’m not good at all that grin and pretend to be nice stuff; you know that.”

“Yes, Gail. Yes. I know that. I fucking know that.” Julie shook her head and turned away, heading down the sidewalk again. I might have been mistaken, but I thought maybe I saw tears in her eyes. God, I can’t take it when Julie cries. I really can’t take it when I make her cry, and it seems like I do it all the damn time.

“Julie, I’m sorry.” I meant it, I honestly meant it. “Baby?” I caught up to her and matched her angry walking pace. “I’m truly sorry, all right?”

“It might have been funny in a dyke bar, Gail, but not at a cocktail party, you know?” Julie kept walking at a good clip, making me work to keep up. “You have no sense of propriety.”

That was actually Julie’s mother talking. ‘No sense of propriety.’ Julie was raised wealthy. She never left the house without her mother approving of what she was wearing, she went to the best private schools, and she was painstakingly taught manners and etiquette. Julie reflexively says please and thank you, she doesn’t pick up her fork until her hostess does, she even raises her pinky finger when she drinks from a tea cup. Her mother, the matriarch, cares very much what people think of the family and always has, and so Julie moved fifteen hundred miles away, where she could live with me in peace and not embarrass or shame anyone.

And that was what I was up against every time the argument went in this direction. I knew I couldn’t use that particular trump card, however, because Julie would never have forgiven me.

“You didn’t fall in love with me for my sense of propriety,” I ventured.

“Gail, you’re not the one who’s going to have to hear about it, you know? That kind of shit gets around. Imagine what people will think?”

I chewed my lip. I don’t give a damn what people think most of the time, and I suppose that was the real issue here, because, like her pretentious mother, Julie does. Oh, she doesn’t care if they know she’s gay, but she goes to great lengths to make us look ‘normal’; to make us fit in, as if she could turn me into a man and we’d be just another American yuppified couple. I understand why she does it, but it doesn’t stop us from arguing about it in some shape or form, time and again.

“I know, Julie, I tried to patch it up, I happen to think I saved it. We had a nice talk, Marion and I.”

Julie sighed and shook her head. “It’s not just that, Gail, it’s everything.”

Whoa.

“Everything?” I asked, as Julie turned off the sidewalk and marched angrily up the steps to our building. “What’s everything?”

“Everything is you, Gail.”

I felt more than heard those words. They struck me in my stomach, and I felt something twist inside. Not for the first time, Julie was the Beauty and I was her Beast. “Julie,” I said carefully,

“I’m not going to apologize for being me.”

Julie stopped in the hall with one hand on the banister and finally turned to look at me. She sighed, and then made her way up the one flight to our second floor condo. “I’m not asking you to apologize for being you, I’m just asking…” She shook her head and unlocked the door to our place. “I don’t know what I’m asking. I’m asking you to have some respect for the circles I operate in.”

Okay, this time she asked for it. “Circles you operate in.” I repeated, emphasizing each word. I closed and locked the door behind me as we went inside. “I’m sorry I don’t make a six-figure salary, Julie, but that’s no reason to imply that I am trash, either.”

“You just don’t understand!” Julie barked at me and hurried into the bedroom, unable to hide her tears this time. I arrived at the bedroom door just in time to have it slammed in my face. Julie and I had had many arguments, but we didn’t slam doors; we didn’t walk away from each other. It was our rule. There was something more going on here. And by ‘something’ I didn’t mean hormones.

“What is this really about, Julie?”

“Nothing!” she sobbed from the other side of the door.

“Can I come in?”

“No!” Her voice was a little farther away from the door this time, and I heard her blow her nose.

“Please?”

Julie sniffled. “Go ‘way.”

I tried the doorknob. She hadn’t locked it, and so I started to turn the handle.

“My mother wants us for Christmas!” Julie shouted, and I froze.

I blinked at the door for a long moment, and then took a few steps backward, away from it. “On second thought, Julie, honey, I’m going to stay out here.”

“I hate my mother!” Julie shouted.

“No, you don’t.” She doesn’t. Julie is incapable of hate.

“I should!”

“You said no, right?” I asked tentatively and received no answer. “Julie? Tell me you said no?”

Except that I already knew that she hadn’t, Julie never said no.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and Julie looked at me with red, watery eyes. “It’s not polite to turn down an invitation from one’s mother,” she said helplessly, as much a slave to her good manners as ever.

Of all the things I knew I’d have to endure when I decided to shack up with Julie full-time, I never expected to be spending Christmas with Mommy and Daddy at their mountain home in Vail.

I’d never seen anything like it. It looked like a palace. As we pulled up the driveway, the sun glinted off the slightly greenish tinted glass that covered one entire end of the house. Floor to ceiling windows on three floors allowed for an unspoiled view of the mountains from every room.

The limo that picked us up had custom plates that read “mumsey”; it was Mommy’s limo. When it stopped near the front entrance I reached for the door handle, but Julie put her hand on my arm. “Don’t. Ben will get it,” she said. She was completely serious.

” _Ben _ will get it.” I repeated her words back to her as a statement, not a question, trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice and failing miserably.

“Gail, you promised—”

“Not to be snarky,” I interrupted. “Yes. Yes, I did. I’m sorry.” Why did I promise her that when I knew there was no way in hell I was going to be able to keep that promise?

As forecast, Ben did open my door and I stepped out, reaching a hand back in to help Julie out as well. Ben closed the car door as Julie and I made our way up the white gravel path to the front steps. “Let me guess. Ben will get our bags, too.”

“Well, Ben will bring them into the house, Eileen will get them from there.”

Christ. “Eileen?”

“Don’t start, Gail.” Julie chided. “Best behavior, you promised.”

“If you don’t stop reminding me of my fucking promises…” I began just as the front door opened for us.

“Hello, Mother.” Julie said, right about the time that I used the f-word, loud enough to drown my voice out. I just stared at her. Never trust a woman whose children call her ‘Mother’.

“Julie, so good to see you!” Her mother pulled Julie into the house and gave her a fairly convincing hug. She and Julie looked nothing alike as far as I could tell; her mother’s hair was blonde and straight, and her face was long where Julie’s was rounder. “Look at you. You look…

well, you look pretty Julie, but I wish you’d wear your hair—”

Julie cut her off. “Mother, this is Gail,” she interrupted before her mother could give her a makeover right there in the living room.

“Oh.” Julie’s mother turned to me, and I stepped into the house. She looked me over critically before introducing herself. “I’m Mrs. McHugh.”

Julie balked at that. “Mother.”

I watched the woman’s thoughts march along behind her eyes. Her lips twitched. I think it might actually have been painful for her. “Call me Kathleen,” she said tightly.

“Hello, Kathleen,” I replied, hands tucked neatly in my pockets. She hadn’t extended hers in greeting and so neither did I. I think Vail got even colder at that moment.

“You’re late.” The man that entered the room next could only have been Julie’s father, as I now saw a clear family resemblance.

“Hi, Daddy.” Julie smiled as he made his way over. I knew that smile and it was a genuine one.

“Our plane landed late.”

Julie had always said nice things about her father. She’d also said he was a man of few words, which was evident in his next statement. He gave Julie a kiss on the cheek, then raised a hand to me and said, “Hello, call me Gareth,” before turning around and disappearing back the way he’d come. Julie didn’t seem at all fazed by his greeting, such as it was.

Most of our afternoon was spent in a lavish sitting room at the front of the house. Julie talked with her mother for a long while about school and the children in her classes, while I remained mostly silent, and took in the magnificent view through the enormous glass windows.

I managed to steal a few kisses while Julie and I unpacked and got ready for dinner. Julie whined at me a little and tried to make an excuse about not being able to “do it” in her parents’ house, but I could tell by the goose bumps I left her with on her arms and the way she bit her lips while she dressed that I could have her if I wanted her. I resolved to dishonor her under her parents’ roof that very evening.

Dinner was nothing short of interminable. Yet again, I had said nothing all evening, mostly out of disinterest in cousin Aly’s new boyfriend and the construction being done on their condo in New York City, when Kathleen’s change of subject finally caught my attention.

“So Julie, did you know that your cousin Mark is like you?”

“Like
me
?” Julie asked, sounding a little terse for the first time all evening.

“Yes, darling, you know,
gay
.” Kathleen whispered the offending word the way I’d heard my grandmother whisper _cancer _ as a child, as if you could catch it by saying it too loudly.

“Actually, I’m lesbian, Mother.”

Kathleen looked shocked. “Julie! Must you use such words at the table?”

I laughed. I guess I ought to have been offended but I found her ignorance so ludicrous all I could do was laugh at her. Julie glared at me, though, and I quieted down quickly.

“So, Mark is gay, huh?” Julie asked, bringing the conversation back to its beginning.

“Oh, yes. Your Aunt Celia was shocked.”

Julie ground her teeth a moment before finally asking what was really on her mind. “Mother, if you can’t even _say _ lesbian, why did you invite us?” Julie had told me she was going to ask, but I hadn’t expected she’d ask so soon, or ask with me in the room, let alone at dinner.

Oddly, Kathleen seemed prepared to answer that question, and smiled at Julie. “Honey, it’s not taboo anymore to have gays in the family.”

I nearly spit my wine across the table. ‘Is it still taboo to have an idiot in the family?’ I was thinking, but I kept my mouth firmly shut.

Julie turned a shade of red that I hadn’t seen on her since that ill-fated cocktail party. “What?”

she asked incredulously, her voice pitched high.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s fashionable now, you know? Everyone knows someone who’s gay nowadays.”

Kathleen seemed to truly believe she’d had some kind of revolutionary breakthrough. “Did you know that John, the Connolly’s gardener, is gay? And, oh! David Sykes, you remember him, I went to school with him and he’s now the Board Chairman for that,” she waved her fingers at Julie’s father, “that pharmaceutical company. What’s it called, Gareth?”

Julie’s father picked up his wine and replied in a bored tone, “Don’t drag me into this, Kathleen.”

Kathleen waved him off as if he were useless and continued on. “Anyway, some very famous people are gay, you know.”

I was starting to think that if Julie’s jaw dropped any further it would dislocate. Me, I’d been hiding a grin behind my hand for the last several minutes. Clearly Kathleen was uncomfortable with the ensuing silence because she started in
again
.

“But you’re the only gay woman I know, Julie, and all my bridge ladies say the same thing. How unique and—”

“Mother!” Julie stood abruptly, bracing her hand on the table edge. “Do not talk to me again until you can look me in the eye and say the word ‘lesbian’ three times in a row.” And with that, Julie turned around and left the table.

I froze, and flicked my eyes first to Kathleen, then to Gareth and back again before leaning back in my chair. That was definitely my exit cue as well, but I needed a reason to go. Kathleen helpfully supplied one.

“She’s always been such a moody girl.”

I stood. “You know, I think I’ll turn in,” I said and headed for the door. I know I promised Julie, but when I decided to turn around and take our wine glasses up with me, I looked at Kathleen and smiled. “If you can’t manage ‘lesbian’, I’m sure Jules would also accept ‘dyke’,” I said helpfully before leaving the room. I could hear Gareth’s laughter as I climbed the stairs in the hall.

I made my way up the long, extravagant staircase and down a lushly carpeted hall to our room.

Julie was running a bath when I came in. “Baby?” I called as I pushed open the bathroom door with my toes.