Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
SHELBY
Late May, 2013
11:00 p.m. and I was just about to go to sleep when I saw my phone light up. It was Jake.
“Hey.” I answered with a reflexive smile.
“Hey. I’m sorry to call so late, were you sleeping?” he asked.
“Just about to be, but it’s okay. Are you driving?”
“I am. I’m on my way to Sebastopol to meet the crew. We are doing fire recovery starting tomorrow.”
“Oh, that sounds heavy,” I said.
“Yeah, but then I get to go right home. It always helps after heavy shoots to be able to decompress there. I pushed myself a little too hard today—over nine hours on the road and I’ve still got one more to go.” He sounded like he was dragging, his voice gravely and at least a full octave lower than usual.I found myself genuinely worried for him.
“I’m happy to help,” I said.
“I appreciate that. Tell me about your day.”
My day. Where would I even start? And I would most definitely be bending the rules ofmy “here” and “there” delineation I had with Jake.
“Well, Lyric and I went to a VFW event today. Do you remember Lyric? The tall receptionist with the long black hair? You met her last year when we filmed.”
“Oh yeah, I remember her. She’s kind of hard to forget.”
I gave him the benefit of the doubt that it was her height or her motorcycle Morticia Adams vibe that he meant and not anything else. “It was an event for World War Two vets, like a meet and greet and photo op. They really get a kick out of seeing the pinup girls or ‘nose art’ as they like to call us. I had done a few of these, but it was Lyric’s first time. She really got into her pinup character, and she even gave herself a name. Mimi Montrose.”
“Cute. I like that.”
“Things started out well enough. I was talking to this one guy, Bob, who was telling me about his plane getting shot down over Italy—he said it in two syllables, like It-ly—and spending time in a POW camp. Out of nowhere, I heard Lyric scream, ‘What the fuck?’”
It had all happened so fast. I sprinted over to her and found the old man in the path of her wrath shouting as loud as she was.
“What kind of outfit is this? I thought there was just gonna be girls here, but you got one of these here… these here ladyboys? Maybe it’s the kind of thing the boys who did tours in ‘Nam like, but not me!”
I stood gaping at him. I wish I could say I was shocked by his tirade, but I wasn’t. This reaction was, unfortunately, par for the course as I had quickly put together what had happened.
“He groped her.” Jake was pretty sharp on the uptake, too.
“Yes. And believe it or not it got worse. The organizer sees the kerfuffle and comes over to us, trying to get everyone to calm down. Lyric is making her case that this guy assaulted her and meanwhile he’s bemoaning the fact that she didn’t have the parts he was expecting when he did. Guess whose side he took?”
“The vet’s.”
“Yup. He started talking some bullshit about ‘misrepresentation’ and our contract. We had signed something very informal, basically indicating our compensation, that was it. Nowhere did it specify what was to be in your pants. I pointed out that by that time we had been there an hour and a half with absolutely no problem whatsoever, and it wasn’t until this guy crossed a line that anyone even knew. Or cared.”
“Misrepresentation. That’s interesting.” Jake said.
I stiffened. I thought maybe Jake was about to take the organizer’s side. I was pretty sure Ari would have.
“That’s like saying a woman who colors her hair is misrepresenting herself. It’d be ridiculous and has no bearing on anything in a context like this,” Jake said.
I was relieved, also touched by his consideration. “You know, most of the time these guys are fine. Some so sweet you want to put them in your pocket and take them home as your little souvenir grandpa. But there are a few…talk about misrepresentation. People think they are these great war heroes who can do no wrong, but hey, guess what? Sometimes they also happen to be lecherous fucks who think they can get away with this shit because they’re pushing ninety and everyone thinks it’s cute.”
“Is she going to press charges?”Jake asked.
“She hasn’t decided. We did get the guy’s name, so she can think about it. It’s not that she’s ashamed of who she is, she’s out and an outspoken advocate for her community. But it still can be mortifying to have to go through that, particularly when you can predict pretty accurately how it’s going to end up.”
We talked until Jake got close to his hotel.
“Thanks for staying up with me. I would have had to pull over if it weren’t for you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Hey…we have a break in our schedule coming up and I’ll be home for a while. What would you say about coming to San Francisco? To my house?”
I leaned into the phone. I did find myself missing his company in more ways than one. I missed his hands, his mouth, the string of breathy expletives he’d spout when he was about to come, yes, but also missing the dimples on either side of his low back that I loved to dip my fingers into. Missing how he’d hold his hand to his solar plexus as he laughed at something I said. Missing the way his body as the big spoon felt against mine, at once like a blanket and a balm.
And I was curious to explore our new dynamic a little more, too.
But going to his house seemed too real. We’d stayed in hotels up until now. Impersonal. Neutral. No one having home court advantage. This was venturing into more intimate territory, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. I had an idea to try and keep things on a level playing field.
“If I say yes, you have to do something for me.”
“Anything. You should know that by now.”
I smiled and felt my cheeks flush. “When are you back home?”
“Friday night.”
“Okay, Saturday night, I want you to call me and tell me a bedtime story.”
“What?” he asked.
“Yes, a bedtime story. And it needs to be sexy.”
“Ohhh, we are gonna go there, are we?” he mused. I could imagine the wicked grin on his face.
“Maybe…”
“Well then, you have yourself a deal,”he said.
I went downstairs to grab a glass of water. I tiptoed quietly through the living room so as not to wake Lyric. We left the event early for obvious reasons and decided that multiple drinks were necessary—also for obvious reasons. Many, many vodka cranberries later, Lyric was wasted, and I made her spend the night at my house. I’d intended for her to sleep in the guest room, but she made herself very comfortable on my couch instead.
“Shelby?” Lyric mumbled.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, I was awake.” She sat up on the couch, the room dimly lit with a light I’d left on for her in the kitchen. “I never thanked you for today.”
I walked over and sat down beside her. “Oh, baby, I didn’t do anything. I wish I could have done more.”
She lowered her head, looking down at her hands as she absentmindedly picked at her long fingernails, immaculately painted with intricate designs—another enviable talent of hers. I hadn’t seen her looking this vulnerable since the day she’d first walked into Aspire.
“You know, I am out here every day trying my best to represent as a proud Latina trans woman. I own it, I celebrate it.” She took a deep breath, and I could see her fighting the tears. “I hate to say it, but today? Today I walked into that event hoping and praying I would pass.”
“Oh God, Lyric.”
“Yeah, I felt the vibe right away. I knew something like that was going to happen. I shouldn’t have been there.”
“I should have known, too. I’m so sorry. I should have been sensitive to the fact that it could have been unsafe for you. I mean, there are a lot of other events I wouldn’t feel good about having you at.” I hated to admit it, but it was true.
“I can see how you could think these guys might have been harmless, that maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about being beaten bloody ‘cause they’re old, but they are still pervs. I saw you get your ass patted, pinched, or grabbed at least half a dozen times.”
I lowered my eyes.
“Shelby, how can you be so protective of me, of the staff, doing those role-playing things to help keep us safe, meanwhile you just let things slide when they happen to you?” she challenged.
It was an excellent question. Leave it to Lyric to be bold enough to call me out.
“It’s something I’m working on. I have a people pleasing problem. Mostly, a ‘men pleasing’ problem. It has to do with Ari.”
Lyric looked in my eyes with sympathetic understanding. She was quiet, waiting for me to say more.
“It helps me to be protective of all of you, so you don’t have to go through the same things that I did. But I need to remind myself that I deserve that protection and those boundaries, too.”
She grabbed my hand. “Yes. You do.” She laid her head back on the couch and sighed. “You know, I’ve thought a lot about whether to have the surgery. Days like today make me question again. Like, I think to myself, ‘Sure I would still have been violated, but it would have been less complicated.’ I mean, how fucked up is that? But you know what? Ultimately it comes down to this—I like dick. I like men who like dick. I like gay bars because I feel safer and more at home in queer spaces. I don’t wanna be out there trying to hook up in straight bars and having to defend my existence as is. If they can’t handle my dick, they sure as hell wouldn’t deserve my pussy. Straight men are trash.”
I laughed. “God, I love you. I love your fierceness. I love that you don’t need to fit in anyone’s box and I’m just so fucking proud of you, Lyric, I could cry.”
She stood up and put her hands on her hips moving her head across her shoulders in cadence with her words, “ Mirame ! I’m a muthafuckin’ unicorn!”
“Damn right! Your horn’s just in a different place.” I winked.
She howled and collapsed on the couch next to me. “Ahhh…fuck,” she said as her laugher faded. “Bitch, I love you so much.” She turned to face me. “Shelby, you know I think of you like a mom, right?”
It was a punch straight to my heart in the best possible way. I put my arms around her and said, “I’d be more than honored to hold that place in your life, baby girl, but we’d need to talk about you calling me bitch as a term of endearment.”
She laughed. “Hey, you know how I said straight men are trash? There is one exception.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s that?”
“Brody. I’m sorry, but that boy is as sweet as honey and fine as hell.”
I paused. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
“Well, Brody hasn’t come out as straight yet.”
Lyric straightened up so fast it made me jump. “What?!”
“He has brought both girls and boys home. Never announcing anyone specifically as someone he was involved with, but I could spot those puppy dog eyes and chemistry sparks from a mile away. And he’s had it with both.”
“Well, well, well.” She smiled.
“But now you told me I’m like your mom. Which would make you and Brody like a Greg and Marcia Brady situation.”
“Who?”
“Greg and Marcia Brady? Like the Brady Bunch?”
“Ohhhh, yeah. I saw that movie! ‘Marcia! Marcia! Marcia!’” Lyric laughed as she impersonated whiny Jan.
“Fuck you. Stop reminding me I’m old,” I chided.
We wound ourselves back down and decided it was time to get some sleep. Just as I walked toward the stairs, I turned back to Lyric.
“Hey, just so you know I told Jake what happened today. I hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s fine. Why would I mind you talking about it to the guy you’re dating? Who, by the way, sounds like another example of a pretty decent straight man.”
“We’re not dating. We’re fucking.” I waved off a flash of a distant memory. Why would I have said it like that?
“You know Shelby, I’d be all about the slut life for you, but I?—”
“What? You don’t think I can handle it?”
“Darius told me what Jake did.” She pointed to Minx curled up on the chair across from the couch. “With this kitten. I think you can handle it just fine. You need to make sure he can.”
That’s the second person within weeks who seemed overly concerned with Jake’s heart in my hands.