Chapter 28
28
Ginny is going to try.
Sue’s interior design business is an LLC, and Ginny looks into starting one of her own. The Minnesota state website about starting a business is not super encouraging; it brings up all the ways you could fail, tells you that about half of new businesses in the state do indeed fail within five years.
But whatever. Ginny’s not doing this for five years. They’re doing it for six months, and if it’s not working, they’ll find a “real” job.
It’s different than they expected, adjusting to not having a day job. They keep thinking they need to check their email, or randomly worrying they’ve missed a deadline. Their days feel endless without a nine-to-five to fill them. That’s a lie—their days feel endless without Elsie. No good-morning or good-night texts. No lunches. No middle-of-the-afternoon memes about naps or coffee or quitting your job and walking into the forest.
The days aren’t actually endless, of course. The thing about starting your own business is it’s a lot of fucking work. Research and forms and all the worrying they try to keep a lid on. Will they make enough to support themself? Is turning a hobby they love into their sole source of income a terrible idea? Will it ruin their love for the work?
Beyond more abstract questions, there are practical ones, too. Finding health insurance without an employer was a nightmare. And if they’re going to register an LLC, it needs a name. What the fuck are they gonna call this thing?
All of this is on top of finishing up their grandpa’s bathroom, and fixing the gate latch, and building him a new table for the breakfast nook. Ginny is bone tired at the end of the day, muscles achy and knees worse, and still each morning they get up to take Rufus to the dog park.
Maybe it’s not healthy, working so hard they barely have time to think about Elsie. Maybe they need to, like, process their feelings or some shit. But that’s not right—Ginny has known her feelings for years. Being in love with Elsie wasn’t the problem; putting Elsie first was the problem.
The whole point of this… trial separation thing is that they need to figure out what they want their life to be like, regardless of Elsie.
Whether Elsie is in their life or not, they want to keep fostering dogs.
Whether Elsie is in their life or not, they want to build shit.
So no matter how much Ginny fucking misses their best friend, they keep doing what they’re doing.
When they finish at Bapa’s, they reach out to Sue’s friends about the bed. Ginny meets Zina and Shea at a coffee shop in Loring Park. Shea is one of the most beautiful women Ginny has ever seen. She’s all perfectly straight glossy black hair and flawless brown skin.
“Are you a hugger?” she says, and Ginny wants to say no just because they’re afraid they’ll mess up part of her perfect ensemble.
But Ginny says yes, and fuck, Shea even smells amazing.
Ginny blinks as they pull back, and Zina’s laughter makes her curly hair bounce.
“That’s how everybody responds to Shea,” she says.
Ginny’s face flushes.
“Don’t be embarrassed, babe—I’m obsessed with her, too!” Zina hugs them next, and smells different, like fresh linen instead of lilacs, but just as good.
Ginny was there early, is already set up in a corner booth with coffee and their notebook. They watch the other two as they order. Even though Shea’s in heels that would break Ginny’s ankles, the top of her head barely reaches Zina’s chin. Zina keeps a hand at the small of Shea’s back the whole time, and Shea leans into them. It’s so… simple. Easy.
They join Ginny at the table, sliding into one side of the booth next to each other. Ginny picks up their pen, all business.
“I’ve made beds before,” they say, “but nothing like this. I’ve done my research and I’m confident I can create something perfect for you, but I’ll need your input. Anything custom-made requires a lot of communication. I promise I won’t be offended if you hate something I sketch up. This is about you —my feelings will only be hurt if you’re not honest with me.”
There’s a momentary ache in Ginny’s chest. They weren’t honest with Elsie. They let out the feeling with their breath. They can’t think about her.
Except it’s hard for them not to. Zina and Shea remind Ginny of Elsie and themself, of how they used to be. They’re completely at ease and in sync with each other, sharing a muffin and finishing each other’s sentences.
“We have a couple of play partners who sometimes join us,” Zina is saying. “We’d like enough hard points so I can suspend this one and a second person at the same time.”
Shea giggles. “She likes to have everyone at her mercy at once.”
“As though we only do this for me,” Zina says. She picks a muffin crumb off Shea’s chest and pops it in her mouth.
“I never said I didn’t like it, too!” Shea looks at Ginny. “You ever try suspension, sweetheart?”
“I haven’t,” Ginny says. “But don’t worry. I’ve done my research.”
That made them think of Elsie, too, of all the things they hadn’t been interested in before, but they’re interested in with her. This is why they have to overwork themself; any moment of peace, and their traitorous brain thinks of Elsie.