20. The Longest （Short） Ride
The Longest (Short) Ride
MARY
Isilently sipped my embarrassingly good coffee as Betty held on by a thread.
I always swore Swedes won this battle, but now I had to give credit where it was due.
As good as the brew was, Betty’s tears pained me to no end.
She held the steering wheel and set her jaw not in anger but in sadness.
I kicked myself for losing it on her, but couldn’t stand the feeling that she used me.
“Elisabeth,” I said. “I’m sorry for yelling and for getting upset. I was freaking out and—”
“No. You don’t get to apologize this time!”
“Betty, I really… I have reasons why I—”
“I don’t care. It won’t work. You don’t want to see me. You’re fine.”
“I’m not, though. I’m not fine if you aren’t.”
“I’m not here to assuage your guilt. I’m just doing what I said I would.”
“Betty, can you just pull over?” I sighed. “Please?”
“We gotta get there. It’s—”
“We have time. Take this exit.”
She got off at the next junction and parked on a lonely lane.
“I do not want to be the reason you miss your flight. That will just be one thing for you to make me feel bad about.”
I took a deep breath, “I am perpetually early and Alicia and Bea are always late.”
“Who is Bea?”
“My ex. The one who is married to Alicia. They have a baby. And they’re both my best friends.”
“So you judge me for Hank, but you don’t say ‘hey, I get it’? You really are something!”
“It’s not the same!”
I realized how biphobic that sounded the minute it came out. I prayed she’d let it go, but Betty bristled.
“I’m not tainted—”
“It’s not that. It’s… your coach, Betty! It’s totally different.”
“He works for me. We are both grown-ups. We’re friends. It’s nothing you need to—”
“He groomed you, though.”
Her jaw dropped and I realized I may have read the situation wrong.
“Sorry. I’m… projecting,” I said.
She cocked her head, “Why would you—”
“It’s complicated.” I pulled my hair and leaned against the window before turning. “And… I am sorry. It wasn’t you so much as him.”
“Why? I can assure you that while we were a disaster, he is one of my best friends. He was the one who told me to talk to you. He just wants to see me happy. We support one another. There is nothing going on.”
“It’s not about Hank. In general, I don’t trust men.
I don’t know what you have heard about the Swedes and Max Mixxon, but he is a bad man—a man who preyed on me.
He has this whole cult of lifting women up but all he wants is to sleep with young, virginal talent.
I cannot help but suspect anyone who would sleep with their riding students is the same. ”
“Look, it’s very normal in my world for this to happen. Wise? No. But it’s so common. You just admitted to traveling with your ex when she’s with your bandmate!”
I nodded, realizing it was wrong. “Bets, you’re right.”
“So, was this all about Hank?”
She knew well enough that it wasn’t just that and her knowledge of the second part signaled I was the hypocrite. It was rubbish behavior for a supposedly self-assured forty-something lesbian who knew better. I’d projected, but it didn’t let me off the hook.
I shook my head. “It’s not all about him. I was also blindsided by your cousin’s reaction and the mere implication you were with a woman. Betty, you’re not even one toe out—"
Betty sniffled. “Does it matter if I want to be out? You make it sound like I don’t get to make that choice, but that’s asinine.
You’re right, I haven’t been with many women.
I’ve fooled around with a few, but that was only after I kissed you in a bar.
Is that what you want me to say? That you were my bi awakening? ”
“Wait.” I stopped, confused, and shook my head, “Betty, am I the first woman you were with?”
It never dawned on me that Betty hadn’t been with another woman.
I’d taken her ambitious, assertive demeanor as self-assurance.
She’d been so vulnerable with me. She trusted me, but here I was denying her that same security in-kind.
If the first person I slept with did this, I’d be a mess.
If they were also someone I pined for over years, I’d be even more hurt.
Unsure how to react, I sat there all-too-quiet, which she read as invalidating.
Betty burst into tears, her head falling to the Volvo’s steering wheel. The horn beeped twice before she wrapped her arms around it and sobbed. I wanted to comfort her, but what could I say?
“Betty, I’m not upset about it if that is the answer,” I said quietly.
She glared. “Oh, really, because I get the sense nothing is every good enough for you. Stop assuming things about me. Just ask. Just talk to me.”
I nodded. “I will try. I had no idea that I meant so much and you’re right. I’m being a cunt.”
She snickered, a smile creasing the corners of her mouth before she turned back to the steering wheel.
“Be gentle with me because I’m not perfect.
I have baggage, too. Until this… whatever this is…
I didn’t feel like I could be brave and say anything.
Since every time I was with a man, it validated I was still not queer. ”
Tears rolled as Betty caught her breath. Her eyes were so much bluer than before.
“I hate upsetting you,” I said. “And I hate it even more since you’re not an ugly crier.”
She snickered. “Stop it.”
“I’m sorry, ?lskling—for jumping to conclusions, to freaking out, and putting my own baggage on your shoulders.
It’s not fair. I want to hear you laugh, not sob.
I do love your annoyed look, but… I would like to make you smile.
Loss ends me. When I assume someone will leave, I shut down.
And any implications about… misdeeds by men do send me into a spiral. ”
“I’m sorry about that,” Betty said. “That has to be difficult.”
“I want to see you. I want to really see you, not just fuck you. I need you to be more than that.”
“I need you to be more than that, too,” Betty said, voice sweet and tiny.
“And you promise it’s not your intent to just hide away—”
“I promise,” she said, checking the time. “We’re really late, Mary.”
“Fine, drive,” I said.
She pulled away like a bat out of hell and merged onto the desolate motorway. I hated making her cry, but I was glad we finally said what we meant. I understood the magnitude of our feelings in a new way. They were as big as the planes flying overhead as we approached the terminal.
We pulled up to the curb. “If I come out, you need to wear a haircut you actually like.”
I smiled. “And you should finally get the tattoo you want?”
“Baby steps,” Betty smiled. “One thing at a time.”
I leaned to kiss her, wanting to soak up some sense of stability. I needed to know we were okay. She pulled me close, ready to risk a photo for reassurance. I pulled back, taking in the slight smile on her face and praying I’d see it again before too long.
“Take care, ?lskling,” I said. “Text me later.”
“No, you text me when you get where you’re going,” Betty said. “I will miss you. Now, I must explain to our future queen that I’m queer and I really, really like a girl who is going to win UniVox for Britain for the first fucking time.”
I kissed her forehead. “We can hope. I’m sorry.”
“You should be. Those metal kids are genuinely sweet environmentalists!” Betty chuckled.
I wanted to joke, but stayed serious, “I know. I’m sorry for judging you, Bets.”
“I know, try harder to ask before you assume,” Betty reminded. “This won’t work if you can’t get past that. You’re out of chances.”
I knew I needed to be mindful of that. As hopeful as I’d been moments before, I knew hurting her again would be the final straw. Now that we laid our cards on the table, there were no more excuses.