Out of the Dungeon (24 page)

"Gosh, yeah, because it wasn't like you
already had plans with me."

Ah. It felt good to say it, right there,
right out loud.

But of course Suede was still Suede.

"Aw, come on, Van, don't be mad. I mean, it's
not like I could have abandoned Patrick."

"You could have told him you had plans."

Suede didn't bat and eyelash. "Yeah, but then
I'd be a shitty friend."

You are a shitty friend,
Vanessa
wanted to say, but she was worn out and didn't want to start a
fight that would go on for hours and end with her being the bitch
again. She just wanted to go to bed. Be done. So she said
nothing.

Suede said, "He had nowhere to go and nothing
to do."

"Not true," Vanessa said. "He was somewhere
doing something when you came along."

"Yeah," Suede said. "Drinking alone."

"It's not the end of the word, Suede,"
Vanessa said. "He's a grown up. He's can probably handle it."

"You don't even know what it's like," Suede
said. "Drinking alone is miserable."

Right. Because you might become aware of
all the people you've lost and fucked over because of your shitty,
asinine behavior.
Vanessa hated these passive aggressive
thoughts, because Suede would never be able to take responsibility
for her own part in alienating the people who loved her. It was a
pointless discussion, particularly when Suede was drunk enough that
she wouldn't even remember the discussion. Suede equals victim.
Everyone else was at fault. Vanessa sighed, and gave up.

"Just go out with Patrick and have fun,"
Vanessa said. "I feel like shit and just want to go to bed
anyway."

It was exactly what Suede wanted to hear. She
kissed Vanessa on the forehead. "You're a doll. I hope you feel
better."

And that was that. She was gone.

Vanessa cried for a little while. She cried
for the hours she'd spent planning and preparing dinner. Cried for
the realization that she had lost herself in Suede to the point
where she wasn't able or willing to speak her own mind. She cried
for the stupidity of falling in love with Suede in the first
place.

And then she decided she was done hurting and
crying over Suede. It was time to detach. Even if it hurt and made
her sad.

At two-seventeen in the morning her phone
rang. Suede. Of course. Vanessa had automatically grabbed the phone
off the nightstand, so now she put it down and clenched her fists,
allowing the call to go to voicemail. After a minute the phone
chimed its notice that there was a message. She dialed up the
voicemail and listened to it.

"Vanesha, Sweetie. I'm sorry I was late for
dinner. Can I come and sleep with you? Please? Patrick got mad and
left me, and you know how I hate to sleep alone. Please? Call
me."

Vanessa wanted to call. Damn it. God help
her, she wanted to be the nice, sweet girl and forgive Suede
everything. Vanessa wanted to pull Suede into her bed, curl her
body around her, hold her and whisper, "Hush, hush, you're
safe."

She laid awake wondering what was the right
thing to do, be a good friend, or protect herself?

She thought about the dinner. Two hours late,
then showing up with an uninvited guest. Late because she'd been
fucking that guest.

She felt her anger and hurt come alive, and
knew that somehow she'd have to be convince herself to stay the
hell away from Suede. Being alone was better than being someone's
back-up plan. Being alone wasn't a crisis, it was the only way to
get to know oneself. She closed her eyes and told herself that
everything was going to be okay. And somehow she managed to fall
asleep. Alone.

The next time she woke up was at four in the
morning, and she was filled with such a deep sense of sadness and
loss that she knew she wasn't going to be able to sleep anymore.
She laid there with angry, racing thoughts, ticking off every
slight, real or imagined, that she had suffered from Suede, until
alongside the sadness came a feeling of justice, of strength. There
was no reason Vanessa had to hang around and be treated badly. She
could walk away. Even if it was hard. She loved Suede, but maybe
Suede wasn't capable of loving her back. And Vanessa couldn't
change that, it wasn't in her power. She only had the power to
change herself, change the way she related to Suede. And if Vanessa
came to a point where she was willing to walk away, then she'd be
able to speak her mind again, she could be real, and chase the
sarcastic, mean thoughts out of her head. And that's what she had
to do, because she wasn't that girl, the bitchy girl, who was nice
to someone's face while stabbing them in the back. That had never
been Vanessa's style, and she couldn't turn into that kind of
person now.

She felt just a tiny bit sick as she rolled
from her side to her back. What was this weird, intermittent
sickness? It was going to drive her mad. She thought about Suede's
question, and how she hadn't told Suede that she'd been with
Roman.

She
could
be pregnant.

It seemed impossible, of course,
unfathomable, but well… definitely within the realm of actual
possibility.

She tried to imagine making that phone call.
Yikes.

She sat straight up in bed. She could resolve
all of this musing with a quick trip to the CVS drug store. For
$12.95 she could turn off all these crazy thoughts. Or double them.
It was like a lottery. Then she could make an appointment with a
doctor to find out what was going on. Maybe her chemistry was off,
iron too low, or potassium too high… yeah, maybe that. There was an
easy way to find out. The CVS was ten blocks away, the Starbucks
only two, and the sun would rise while she walked.

An hour and a half later she peed on a stick
and held her breath. It was one of those moments where she wished
she were a smoker so she'd have something to do for a few agonizing
minutes. She laughed at herself. She couldn't be pregnant, so she
was anxious for nothing. She'd had vague, off and on ponderings
about babies and motherhood, but, without a partner, they were
fleeting and not concrete. She didn't worry that her clock was
ticking, she didn't have any huge concerns that she might miss the
parenting experience. She'd always been ambivalent about the whole
issue, figuring that someday she'd have a partner who either wanted
children, or didn't, and either way would be fine. Procreating
wasn't at the top of her bucket list.

And now that she determined she was bisexual,
it could be off the list completely, for all she cared. That just
doubled her number of potential partners, opened up whole new
worlds to explore.

She picked up the stick and looked at the
results window. There was no single line. No double line. No pink
line, and no blue line. Not even a plus or minus sign. Nothing that
subtle, because she hadn't bought that kind of test. The little
window of this test showed one word.

Pregnant.

Holy shit.

S
aturday was quiet.
Roman was satisfied that Gigi's trouble was taken care of, at least
for the moment, so he could go home soon and get back to it. He
wasn't sure what
it
would be at this point, but he would
figure out something.

Maybe he'd go up to Jeff's parents' place and
insist that Jeff give him another chance. It was ridiculous for
Jeff to quit the whole relationship because things were going to be
different. Roman could wash his own clothes, and he could clean his
own kitchen, and vacuum his own floors. If he could sell the club,
he could sell the dungeon furniture, as well. It was more
uncomfortable to sell the furniture than the dungeon itself, but it
could be done. And if nothing else, he could borrow it out
indefinitely. Roman knew plenty of people in various BDSM
communities who would love to make use of his equipment. Finding
storage for his treasures was doable.

Gigi was awesome, but by late afternoon Roman
was a little bored and a lot restless. There was only so much TV he
could watch in a day. He borrowed Gigi's computer and went browsing
for something to do on a Saturday night. He called up Google and
typed
BDSM munch
and the city. One of the search results was
the local FetLife group. He clicked the link, but it didn't take
him right into the group, it took him to the login page. "Well, now
what?" he said under his breath.

"What?" Gigi asked, and came to peer over his
shoulder.

"I don't have an account. Jeff does."

Gigi laughed. "You can log in as
NaughtyGranny68." She leaned over him and entered her login and
password.

"Thanks. You can go away now, before I'm
completely embarrassed."

"Yeah, because you never masturbated or
anything all those nights you stayed here."

Roman put his fingers in his ears.
"Lalalalalalalalala. I can't hear you."

He didn't have any trouble finding the group
because his crazy grandmother was a member. There was even an
invitation to an event, play time at the local gay bar. For
tonight.

"You're not really involved in the local
fetish scene, are you?" Roman asked.

"Of course not. I'm older than dirt. But I'm
also nosy as hell. I suppose you'll have to go back to New York and
get your stuff."

"What are you talking about?" Roman
asked.

"I'm talking about you moving in with
me."

"Moving in? Since when am I moving in?"

"I think the judge assumed you were moving
in."

He stared at her. "You want me to live here?
With you and George?"

"George doesn't live here. He's just comes in
and out because he's a total mooch. Squirrels are like that. But
yes, I'd like it if you stayed."

Roman was dumbstruck. It had never occurred
to him that Gigi was aiming for this. He'd be so far away from
Jeff. So far away from everything.

"Aw, Gigi. I don't know. I'll have to think
about it."

"That's fair. Seems like a good time, though,
considering all your shit is changing anyway."

"But I love the city. I love New York."

"I know. Don't worry. Just the silly thoughts
of a silly old woman."

"Not so silly. I guess I can include the idea
in my short list of options," he said. "Jeff can't be done with me,
just like that," he snapped his fingers, "after twelve years. We
need some talk time before I can make any major decisions."

Gigi nodded. "I understand."

Roman navigated to Gmail and signed in. He
spent a few minutes thinking, then typed a message to Jeff.

Remember transparency, truth, and trust? Say
you'll talk to me. I love you, even if things have to be different
now. If you can change, so can I. We've always changed together.
Please don't leave me behind.

He hit send, and hoped for the best. It was
all he could do.

His phone rang, startling him with a burst of
hope.

By the time he'd retrieved it from the
kitchen window sill, he'd missed the call. But it hadn't been Jeff,
it had been Vanessa.

Maybe calling with news about Jeff.

Roman called her back.

"Hey," she answered. "I wasn't sure if you
were busy at the club, or what."

"No. I am far, far away from New York,
visiting my grandmother."

"You have a grandmother?" she said, and
sounded surprised.

"Of course I do. She's a feisty old bat who
kicks my ass at cribbage."

Vanessa laughed. "Nice. That's cool. My
grandparents died when I was pretty small. And when I was in
college, my parents moved to Belize, of all places, where they live
as ex-patriots. My family is weird."

"All families are weird," Roman said. "My dad
took my grandma to breakfast yesterday, and then took her to court
where he tried to have her declared incompetent. My grandmother
wanted me in court on her side. I was pretty much the bouncer."

"Did you show up in leathers?"

Roman laughed. "I wanted to. But no, I rented
a suit."

"I bet you're just as scary in a suit as you
are in leather."

"Yeah, especially that suit. It was Hugo
Boss. I looked like a powerful attorney."

"Awesome," she said.

"What was awesome was when Gigi, my grandma,
pulled details of my dad's foreclosure out of her purse and passed
the papers to the judge. Talk about trumped." He laughed,
remembering Albert's ineffectual attempts to rescue the situation.
"Anyway. It's good to hear from you. How are you? How's Jeff
doing?"

Vanessa sighed into his ear. "I don't know. I
called Jeff a few minutes ago, but got shuttled right to voicemail,
so I guess his phone is off. Hopefully he'll call me back. I feel
kind of dumped, you know?"

"Yeah," Roman said softly, and a feeling of
huge sadness came over him. "I just sent him an email practically
begging him to talk to me. I don't think we can do anything but
give him space. Dare, too. Talk about feeling dumped."

"I know. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any
better, I was supposed to have a date with Suede last night, and
she showed up a couple hours late, and brought a date of her own.
You can cry on my shoulder, if I can cry on yours."

"Sounds good," Roman said, and smiled at the
thought of crying on anyone's shoulder. Vanessa was good people.
"We can have coffee or drinks or something."

"Yeah, let's do that. So. The reason I
called…" her voice wavered and then drifted into silence.

Dare tried to anticipate what she was going
to say. They'd already talked about Jeff. Maybe something with the
club? Something with Dare?

"What?" he asked. "The club didn't burn down,
did it? Do I need a chair?"

"No fire. No death or destruction or anything
tragic. But yes, you should sit down."

"Hang on, I'll grab a cup of coffee and go
out to the patio."

"You should pour yourself a shot. Two shots;
you can have mine."