Chapter Eighteen #2
“Part of me was mad at her because I thought she left you when you really needed someone on your side, but when she looked so lost after I brought up my MS, I was mad at you. I thought you were trying to hide it from her.”
“Bailey, I’m not embarrassed of you or your MS. It’s simply a part of what makes you, you.
I was just scared back then.” To be honest, I’m still scared.
She’s been in remission for a while and her treatment seems to be slowing the progression of the disease, but still, it’s unpredictable.
It looks different for everyone, so there’s no way to tell what this disease will look like for her years from now.
The uncertainty terrifies me more than the disease itself.
“Okay,” she says. “Good. That makes me feel better.”
“You have nothing to worry about. At least not about that, because I am embarrassed of that big ass head you carry around. How’s that thing even stay on your shoulders?” I smack her forehead the way I used to when she was younger.
She smacks my hand with a chuckle. “Fuck you. At least my eyebrows don’t make me look like Krillin.”
“Nah, you’re just giving Temu Rihanna in the forehead.”
“Temu?!” she screeches.
We roast each other some more until she starts getting sleepy, so I fix her some tea and resume our episode of One Piece.
When she falls asleep, I pull myself out of my chair to start cleaning.
“Hey, Chopper?” Bailey calls. Her eyes are closed and her voice is dreamlike.
“Yeah, Franky?”
“I like Dani a lot.” She murmurs something else I can’t understand and then fades back to sleep.
Me too, sis. Me too.
Me: Can I come over?
Dani: Absolutely
I’m pleasantly surprised by Dani’s response. It’s one thing to spend time together, just the two of us, when we’re in a different state where nobody knows us, but it’s something different when we’re home. It’s a step in the direction of everything I’ve been wanting.
She’s made it very clear where she stands: she’s only willing to give me her body, so I’m prepared to meet her where she’s at. Tonight, however, I’m only after one thing: her friendship.
After spending the afternoon with Bailey, I want to get a few things off my chest and clear the air. I hope Dani’s willing to give me that.
She opens her door in a silk pajama dress that accentuates her every curve. She was definitely looking for more benefits, less friendship tonight.
“Come inside,” she says, her voice heavy with implications.
I accept the sultry kiss she plants on my lips, but I stop her from lifting my shirt.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
My eyes flit to the sight of her hip beneath the slit of her nightgown before I catch myself. “Nothing. I was hoping we could talk.”
“Talk?” She clenches her nails into her palms, a telltale sign that she’s nervous, and takes a slight step back. “About what?”
I take her hands in mine to keep her from retreating any further, hoping like hell rubbing my thumbs against her palms calms her. “I could use a friend.”
I tell her how Bailey was upset with me for never telling her about the MS and Dani’s eyes widen before softening to glassy pools. “We’re gonna need some tequila.”
She guides me to her couch before disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a bottle of Promesa and two glasses. She runs back to the kitchen for two cans of ginger ale and passes me one.
“You think I need a chaser?” I joke.
She coughs around a laugh and holds up her hands. “It’s called being a good hostess. I was just giving options.”
“Mhm,” I say in disbelief. “When it comes to you, I don’t need a chaser.”
She crosses one leg over the other. “You mean when it comes to my tequila?”
“I mean what I said.”
Leaning forward, she holds her glass toward me. “Cheers to that.”
“Cheers to that.” I clink my glass against hers, getting lost in her eyes as I down the shot.
That is damn good tequila. I’ve been a fan of her brand since she launched it, but it’s nice to actually share a glass with her now.
“Who would’ve thought the woman who once gagged and cried over this stuff would go on to make the best tequila I’ve ever had. ”
Her fingers trace the rim of her glass. It’s a risk, bringing up our past. The last thing I want is for her to shut down on me.
I know we’re different people now, but our history shouldn’t be this unapproachable subject.
I want to be with the woman she is now, but she was born from the woman she was then. She deserves acknowledgment.
Her resounding smile is all the payoff I need. “First of all, fuck you. I didn’t gag or cry.”
I tilt my head with pursed lips.
“Okay, fine. I did gag. Second of all, thank you. I’m glad you like it. So, tell me about Bailey.”
With that, I launch into the full story, explaining why I disappeared on her all those years ago and apologizing.
I tell her why Bailey was so upset that Dani didn’t know, cringing as I remember the pained look on Bailey’s face.
I let it all out, and to Dani’s credit she listens with rapt attention.
When I’m done, she finishes her drink, licking her lips as she sets her glass on the coffee table. “I, um, I don’t really know what to say to that.”
“It’s a lot to digest, I know. But I don’t wanna keep letting people down.”
She sighs, looking away from me before granting me another glance. “I get that. For what it’s worth, you didn’t let me down. I’ve long since forgiven your disappearing act and I hope you can forgive me for mine.”
It’s worth a lot. Since Dani and I have come together this last time, I feel like I’ve been fighting an uphill battle with her. Being able to stop and catch my breath is a nice feeling. I hold my hand out for hers. “Forgiven.”
She accepts, shaking it gently. “I think we’ve come a long way.”
“Oh, we’ve definitely made progress. I’ve gone from your friend’s husband’s friend to your friend. I’m ecstatic.”
She kicks her leg toward me, but I’m serious. When this all started weeks ago, I never thought we’d get to a place where we could even have a conversation without sinking into the quicksand of our insecurities.
“I’m happy too, I suppose. Are you and Bailey good now?”
“I think so.” Everything seemed fine when I left her place, at least.
She holds the bottle toward me, waiting for confirmation before pouring another glass. “Have you ever considered group therapy?”
My head reels back. I can’t say I was expecting that. “Group therapy? I haven’t, why?”
“I looked into it. They have support groups for people with loved ones who have autoimmune diseases. It might be good for you to go and talk about Bailey.”
I scoff. I’m not the one who lives with the disease, so why should I need to be consoled for it? “I don’t know about that.”
“Stopppp. I know what you’re thinking. Seeking support isn’t you trying to have a pity party. And it’s not just about you. It’s for Bailey too.”
My brows furrow. “How so?”
“I think it might be good for you to learn how to support Bailey in a way that works for her, not yourself.”
Ah, I see. She’s saying I’m too overbearing. I know that I can be sometimes and I’m trying to work on that; it’s just always been instinctively a part of me.
“Just think about it,” she says in a rush. “I can send you a link for the ones I found.”
“Okay. I will. Thanks.”
She pulls her phone out immediately and mine pings a moment later. She’s really given this some thought, and that makes my chest feel warm.
“Just out of curiosity, how long have you been researching these support groups?”
Her fingers hover above her phone before she slowly meets my eyes. “Since the day I met Bailey at Tanya’s house and you two got into it.”
I do my best to keep my emotions off my face, and when that fails, I take a long sip from my drink. Even before she was willing to open up to me, she still wanted to help. Things like that are what draw me to her flame.
She clears her throat and lowers her head before speaking. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been thinking about going back to therapy myself.”
“I didn’t know you had done therapy.”
“Yeah, a while ago. The therapist I went to just wasn’t a good fit for me, and I … well, I used that as an excuse to not find another one. But I think it’s time to go back.”
“Well, that’s great. I’m proud of you for making that decision.”
Her lips tilt up into a smile. “Thanks. When we were doing the scavenger hunt for Tanya, I just kept thinking, all the shit she went through, did she have anyone to talk to about it? Did she ever seek professional help or did she just deal with it on her own all those years? I feel like in a way she was telling me that it’s okay to find someone to unburden myself to. ”
“I think you might be right,” I agree.
We’re gonna be alright, Tanya. We’re gonna be just fine.