Waiting Read online

  Murmurs of admiration and jealousy rippled through the circle at the table. Caris continued speaking, talking about how Dale loved to sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to Donovan. The lies came quickly and easily. At one p.m., the group headed back to work. No one walked with Caris. Undoubtedly they were weary of hearing about her saintly husband.

  *****

  Caris brought Donovan for dinner at her mother's house that night. She and Phyllis had chicken, mashed potatoes and biscuits from KFC. Caris nibbled on a plump leg, the lines from earlier at work continuing to zigzag in her mind.

  He leaves his underwear on the floor.

  He leaves the toilet seat up.

  He'd rather watch football than make love.

  He goes golfing all weekend and leaves me with the kids.

  "Penny for your thoughts," Phyllis said.

  Caris scooped mashed potatoes onto a biscuit. She added gravy. I wonder what Lena's children look like.

  "Tell me about your first day at work," Phyllis prodded.

  "It was good. Everyone's nice. I mostly typed and answered phones."

  "What'd they say about—you know—about Dale?"

  Caris pushed her chair back and got to her feet. "Excuse me. If I go out for an hour, will you watch Donovan?"

  Chapter 8

  Every table in Azizi was occupied for happy hour and dinner rush, and so were all of the bar stools save two. Most of the clientele were slouched, beaten-down men in business suits. Two waitresses roamed the floor, and Lena was behind the bar. Her hair was down; she still had the cast on. She chatted with a customer, a paunchy, balding man. Lena leaned into him, just a leeeetle too much, batting her eyelashes just a leeeetle too much. The customer lapped it up.

  Yes, Lena was good at her job. Lena would not judge her, would not pester her with questions she did not want to answer. Would understand why Caris said she had a husband.

  Lena looked up, met Caris's eyes, and the bar's hustle and bustle faded away. Caris tried to ignore the rush of pleasure in Lena's grin and the shivers of her own body. A momentary panic seized her. She had not realized how much she wanted to be here until she saw Lena.

  Caris tried to cover it up as she sat at the bar. "Coke," she said briskly. "Only Coke. Well, a little vodka, too. Vodka and Coke. Can't stay long. I have to get back to the baby."

  Lena offered a soft smile. "Of course. I'll take a break soon."

  Caris had to look away. Lena's cleavage was visible. Barely. But enough to get Caris's pussy stirring. "Left my horse at home," Caris said. "My revolver, too."

  "Yeah. It's not Paris or London, but it's something."

  Azizi was little more than a shack, hidden away among the modernity and sameness of Safeway, Chili's Bar & Grill, Panera Bread and Starbucks. The interior was dusty and grimy, like an Old West saloon. Caris liked it. "How do you mix drinks with your cast?"

  Lena started on Caris's drink. "Watch me. Slowly. Very slowly. And one-handed, mostly. It's good for business. My tips are up. Too bad I didn't break both arms. I'd be a millionaire."

  "That is indeed unfortunate," Caris said.

  "Amos." The man across from Caris, the customer Lena had been flirting with, held out his hand.

  She shook it. "Caris."

  Amos patted his generous belly. "Courtesy of Lena and Azizi."

  Caris patted her own belly. "Courtesy of a sperm donor. And going away soon, I hope. Bit by bit."

  "Caris is my stepmother," Lena added.

  Stepmother. Caris felt old. Very old.

  "Stepmother, hey? Cool." Amos's breath was sour, and Caris edged back. "Sorry about your wife."

  "Thank you."

  "Is drinking all right with your breastfeeding?" Lena asked. "You're still breastfeeding?"

  "Yes. I'm trying to go off, but it's taking longer than I hoped. Donovan likes it, and it's supposed to be better than formula. You want a piece of interesting trivia?"

  "Sure."

  "Alcohol doesn't stay in breast milk. It's like alcohol in blood. Once it's gone, it's gone. So I can still pump and keep milk. Just have to give the alcohol time to go away."

  Lena grinned. "I think I'd be too nervous to keep it."

  "Me too." Caris took her first sip. The alcohol tingled down her throat and burned her stomach. Caris gulped down a second, more expansive sip. "This is good. I haven't had a drink in close to a year."

  "Drink for you here anytime you want one. Hey, be right back." Lena went down the bar to wait on a group of newcomers. She smiled widely, her eyes shining. She touched one of the men lightly, flirtatiously, on the arm, and said: "Hey, guys, let's see some ID, please."

  Lucky guy.

  "Sorry about your wife," Amos repeated.

  "Thank you."

  "She still in the coma?"

  "Yep."

  "She used to come in here a lot. She was nice. Ordered water. Maybe Diet Coke once in a while."

  "Yep, she didn't like to drink alcohol." Was she afraid alcohol would loosen her tongue?

  *****

  When Lena's break arrived, they sat on a bench in front of Chili's. "Is this the same bench where your mother told you she was transgender?" Caris asked.

  "Yes."

  Lena's body against hers was warm, and Caris had to make a conscious effort not to sink into the touch. "I replied to your letter today," Lena said. "Put it in the mail."

  "You didn't have to."

  Lena shrugged. "Did you go to church with Grandma again?"

  "Yes. She likes having someone with her, and it gets me out of the house."

  Lena scratched her nose. "So, uh, did you start work yet? That temp job?"

  "Today. Actually that's why I'm here. Kind of."

  "What happened?"

  "I didn't tell anyone there about your mother, the transgender thing, the coma."

  Lena nodded. "I don't blame you. I don't tell, either. People treat you differently."

  "Ted does, that's for sure. My boss. He kept telling me to leave early and that it's okay take long lunches to visit her. I won't complain. Ted lets me show up at work looking like this." Caris indicated her battle-weary features. "The first face the clients see is someone who should work for Ghoul & Associates." Lena laughed, and Caris smiled, enjoying the sound and Lena's straight, white teeth. "I did something today I probably shouldn't have."

  "It's okay to toilet paper the boss' office."

  "Of course. I did something else, though."

  "What?"

  "The women—secretaries or whatever from the building—asked me if I was married. I said yes. I said I had a husband. Husband. Ugh. I would have tried to understand. I really would have."

  "I know you would have," Lena whispered.

  "But I probably…I don't want a husband. I told them that my husband cooks. Cleans. Does laundry. Helps me with the baby. I didn't plan to lie. Not to that extent, anyway. It squished—squicked—out. I think that's why your mother couldn't tell me. Because she knew deep down inside, I could try to understand all I wanted, but in the end, a man wasn't who I wanted. She knew we were done either way."

  Lena's expression was troubled. Contemplative. Her mouth was pink and shone with gloss. Full, enticing lips.

  "Does that make you think less of me?"

  "No," Lena said in a rush. "Of course not. I don't want a man, either. Mom should have transitioned long ago and met someone in the body that fit him."

  Caris sighed. Find a distraction. She dared not ask about Lena's children. She glanced toward Chili's. "I did some waitressing in college. Saw lots of families. Smiling. Laughing. There were couples who didn't talk to each other. Couples of all ages and colors. Some weren't even couples, but mother and son, or father and son. Whatever. They sat, drank, ate, maybe said something once in a while such as: 'Oh, it might rain tomorrow,' or 'You have that hair appointment tomorrow, don't you?' "

  "I know what you mean."

  "Are these types of people happy or sad? Happy they are so comfortable with each other
they don't need to talk, or sad that they have nothing to say to each other? That their life together is nothing anymore?"

  "I hate to do this, but I have to get back to work. We're really busy. But stay awhile. Please. I'll comp you another drink. Or food. Anything you want."

  "No, that's okay. Gotta get back. Thanks for taking the time you did."

  They walked to Caris's car, and Caris asked: "Do you miss your mother?"

  Lena bit her lip. "Sometimes. Probably not as much as I should."

  "It wasn't right of her to do all this to you. The note."

  "Hey, would you like to have lunch with me and Karl soon? Or dinner. Or coffee. Or nothing. Just a chat. Maybe talking with Karl would, uh…would help you."

  "Karl, huh? Okay. Starbucks this weekend? I might have to bring the baby."

  "No problem. Sounds good. I'll let you know what time."

  Caris wondered if she should hold out her hand for a handshake goodbye. Or attempt a hug? She and Lena had held up well tonight. No awkwardness, no weird exchanges. Best not to ruin that. But Caris remembered Lena looking at her breasts, these amazed eyes, that kiss. Caris's heart went thump-thump-thump.

  Lena's gaze was hesitant, yet alert. Indifferent too, or trying to be. Caris wet her lips. Do you still want to touch my breasts? She and Lena could have a fling. Why not? A harmless little fling. Lena was not in love with her. Lena barely knew her. So a harmless little—Caris's throat closed up. What the hell was she thinking? No fling, no fling. Caris was done with Dale, but that did not mean lusting after Lena was okay. Besides, the fact was that the kiss had come from somewhere. Lena must have feelings for Caris, and Caris would not play with them.

  But the kiss. The damn kiss was playing games with Caris's mind. Her heart.

  "Gotta go," Lena said.

  "Can I ask you something?"

  Lena shuffled her feet. "You probably shouldn't."

  Caris swallowed. "Okay. Good night." She told herself a good night kiss would be okay. On the cheek, of course. Caris leaned in, and the kiss was no more than a brush, a nothing, really, but damn. Lena smelled good. Felt good. Tasted good. And then Lena kissed her back, on her cheek.

  "Good night," Lena said.

  Chapter 9

  "Hey, Mom," Lena said on a Thursday a few weeks later. She would be meeting Caris that Saturday at Starbucks; Karl had not been available the past couple of weekends.

  No reply from Dale.

  Lena took a seat at her mother's bedside. They were alone. "My class was cancelled, so I'm celebrating by coming to see you. How'd you make it this far, huh? Damn."

  Nothing.

  Lena wriggled the fingers on her left hand. "All free!" Her cast had come off a few days ago, and her left arm was a bit paler than her right. "Not feeling chatty, Mom? Good thing I brought my textbook." Lena had fifty pages to read.

  Nothing.

  Lena surveyed the tubes going into her mother. Pitiful. Nurses rushed past the door. Someone coding? Dying?

  "I told her," Lena whispered. "That you're transgender. Did your dirty work for you."

  Oh, she imagined Dale saying.

  "She took it fairly well. She, uh, she would've tried to understand. She might even have stayed with…she's great, Mom. You screwed up."

  Lena imagined Dale closing her eyes. I know.

  "Anyway. I haven't cried yet. I wonder what that says about me. What do you think? Am I emotionally stunted? Okay, well. You're stuck listening to me read. No Agatha, sorry. Last chance to speak up. No objections? Okay."

  Lena opened her textbook. "The normal distribution was discovered in 1733 by the Hugueneot refugee Abraham de Moivre as an approximation to the binomial distribution when the number of trials is large."

  Zzzzz.

  Lena retrieved another item of reading material: a letter from Caris, which had arrived earlier that day. "Hey, Mom. Want to help me reply to this letter?"

  Dale's lips were set in a thin line.

  "You want me to read it to you? Okay, then."

  Lena:

  You know that many constellations don't look like what they're supposed to, right? (Except the dippers. A square and a handle forming a spoon, I can see that.) But Leo? Do you know that one?

  "No," Lena said to her mother. "I hadn't. I looked it up online."

  It's supposed to be a lion. It's actually a triangle and a bent clothes hanger. Look up a picture if you don't know what it looks like. Some people reach for explanations. They have to see something with meaning. Anyway, I'm going to see you Saturday, so I'm not writing much. Getting snail mail is nice, isn't it though? Well, I'll see you soon.

  - Caris

  "What do you think, Mom?" Lena asked. "You always wanted us to get along." But not like this, I bet.

  *****

  The Starbucks was lively when Caris entered, and she did not see Lena right away. Then there Lena was, wearing her green skirt. She stood by a window table and waved Caris over. A man also stood to greet Caris. He was bespectacled, and his black hair was closely cropped. He was lean and tanned, and stubble dotted his jaws. He was one of the most handsome men Caris had laid eyes on. "Karl Coventry," he said, and extended his hand. Deep, masculine voice.

  "Caris." They shook hands.

  "I'll get our drinks," Lena said. "What do you want?"

  "Hey, congratulations. Your cast is off."

  "Ta-da!" Lena said with a grin.

  Once Lena was gone, Karl proffered a Snickers bar, adorned with a red ribbon. "Dale told me Snickers is your favorite."

  Caris could not help but smile. When she and Dale were first dating, Dale would bring her Snickers bars with red ribbons. So—Dale had cared enough to tell Karl. "Thank you," Caris said. "You want half?"

  A broad grin. "Brought my own. Several, actually." He reached into his messenger bag and sprinkled ten bars, of various permutations—almond, peanut butter, and such—on the table. "I remembered Snickers was your favorite because it's my husband's favorite, too."

  "How did you meet Lena?"

  "We met two years ago in class. I hit on her. She laughed and said no way, she only liked the fairer type. We became fast friends."

  What about your husband?

  Karl nodded, as if Caris had spoken aloud. "Damien and I have an open marriage. We married thirty years ago, long before I accepted I was a man."

  Caris nibbled on her bar. Her routine was to eat the top chocolate layer first, then the chocolate on the sides, then the peanut and caramel layer, and finally the nougat and bottom chocolate layer. "So your husband stayed with you."

  "We had a rough couple of years, but we worked it out. I was forty-four when I told him and our kids. I was forty-five when I started hormones. Forty-six when I had the surgeries. So, I've been Karl for ten years." He smiled. "Never been happier."

  "You look forty. At the most."

  Karl bit off a big chunk of Snickers. "I know! It's fantastic."

  "Were your kids okay?"

  "Pretty much. Damien and I played it cool. If we didn't make a huge deal out of it, the kids wouldn't think it was a huge deal."

  "It was sweet of Lena to set this up."

  Karl nodded. "I'm lucky she turned me down. I wouldn't trade our friendship for anything."

  "I can imagine."

  "Dale talked about you a lot."

  "How did you meet Dale?"

  "Lena and I were partners for a complicated project on taxes. Lena said her mom was a tax attorney and could help us. And she did, a lot. I took Dale out to a thank-you lunch, and Damien came. Lena too."

  Caris continued eating the Snickers. She vaguely remembered Dale mentioning the project.

  "After lunch, Dale told Lena that Damien didn't seem gay." Karl chuckled. "Whatever gay seems like. Lena told Dale the whole sordid story, that Damien was a straight man married to a transgender. Fine with me. I don't hide I used to be a woman. My past is part of who I am."

  "Dale should have told me. I would have tried to understand."

&nbs
p; "You're right. He should have."

  "He."

  A grin. "He. Yeah."

  "Why didn't she tell—" Caris stopped. She swallowed, the pronoun he a blister on her tongue. "Why didn't he tell me?"

  "He'd rejected himself. You'd reject him, too. Or so he thought."

  *****

  Lena was glad she had set up a meeting with Karl. He and Caris talked easily, and three was definitely not a crowd. Lena, Caris and Karl chatted for an hour. Not about Dale, though. They talked about Lena's and Karl's MBA program, sports and politics.

  At five o'clock, Karl got up to meet his family for dinner. "Karl's nice," Caris said after he left.

  Lena replied with a small smile. Caris was sitting next to her; Karl had been across from them.

  "You and Karl interact like a couple who has been together forever."

  "We do?"

  "Oh, yeah." Caris grinned. "You finish each other's sentences. You squabble. It's cute."

  "Thanks. I think." Caris was lovely today. Okay, hell, she was lovely every day, and Lena had struggled the past hour not to look overlong at her. Caris had laughed a lot with Karl, and by default, with Lena too. Her eyes shone in a way Lena had not noticed until Caris visited her at Azizi. Caris looked at Lena differently these days. Lena existed for her now. That was not to say that when Dale had been up and around, Caris did not realize Lena was attractive. This, though...this was different. Before the kiss, Caris had not been interested in Lena as a woman, as anyone more than her wife's daughter.