23. Zoe
Zoe
If I’d been worried that my grandmother would be weirded out by my relationship with Gretchen, it was a waste of energy. Jan seemed absolutely thrilled that we were dating.
“Are you a lesbian then Zoe, like Gretchen? Or are you bisexual?”
I shrugged. “I don’t like to label things, but I guess you could call me pansexual.”
At my grandmother’s confused look I explained, “I’m attracted to people based on things other than gender. I can’t quantify it, but sometimes I’m attracted to women, sometimes men or non-binary or gender fluid folks.”
Jan shook her head. “You young people and all these options... When I was your age we just had gay and straight. But look, I don’t care what you call yourself or what pronouns you want to use, you’re my granddaughter and I just want you to be happy.
But the fact that you’re dating my favorite lesbian in the entire city of Seattle? I love that.”
I couldn’t help it. I flew off my chair and gave my grandmother a hug. She chuckled but hugged me back. “You’re the best, Grandma.”
Grandma sent my newly defined girlfriend a sly look. “I guess I’ll be seeing more of you then, Gretchen.”
“I guess you will.”
“And I guess you’ll want to split your time between my house and hers,” Grandma asked me.
I immediately worried that I’d offended her. “Oh no Grandma, my priority is you. I’m here for you.”
She patted me on the shoulder. “It’s okay, you can be here for me and still spend time with your girlfriend. It’s not a competition.”
After dinner Grandma brought out the playing cards and they taught me how to play Rummy, a card game they both liked.
I did a game as my grandmother’s partner and then one with Gretchen before they declared me ready to do a round on my own.
I hadn’t really played cards before, other than playing Uno with friends when I was a kid, but I found I really enjoyed it.
By the time we’d played a few rounds, my grandmother was yawning. Fake yawning.
“I’m going to go to bed now, girls.” She walked over to a drawer and returned with a key in her hand. “So you can get back in if you go over to Gretchen’s for a while. I’m sure you’d like some privacy.”
Was my grandmother encouraging me to leave the house to have sex? I was pretty sure she was and based on how wide Gretchen’s eyes were right now, she thought the same thing.
Grandma gave us each a hug then disappeared into her bedroom. A few minutes later I heard the TV turn on. I looked at Gretchen with amusement. “Shall we go to your place?”
Over the next month I fell into a routine.
I was working two to three shifts a week at the shelter, covering for people on vacation or who called out sick.
It was the best job I ever had. I loved helping people who were getting out of bad situations and, based on the feedback I received from our team lead Robbie and my boss Julia, they were very happy with my work.
I’d also developed a good rapport with the shelter guests who soon learned that I was strict but fair and able to remain impartial and nonjudgemental when they talked to me about things.
When I wasn’t working during the day I’d help Grandma with things around the house. Sometimes we’d go out to see her friends or go hiking or just visit the tourist sites. My grandmother was super social and everywhere we went people seemed to know her.
I talked to Gretchen every day by text and saw her several times a week.
Sometimes we’d go out on a date, sometimes we’d do something with my grandmother, sometimes we’d just hang out at her house.
Whenever we were alone at her house we’d have sex, and somehow even though we had my grandmother’s blessing it almost felt like we were sneaking around, which added an element of excitement.
I missed waking up in Gretchen’s arms though. After a month of waking up alone, I decided to broach the subject with my grandmother one morning at breakfast.
“Hey Grandma, would it be okay if I slept over at Gretchen’s house tonight?”
Grandma laughed. “You’re an adult dear, you don’t need my permission.”
“I just don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. After all I’m staying here for free.”
I’d offered her money for rent multiple times and been rebuffed so I’d taken to doing things like picking up groceries and household items to help her out.
“We’re making up for lost time, you and I,” Grandma said. “Once you decide what you’re doing long-term we can figure out long-term living arrangements.”
It took me a second to realize she was talking about me going back to Chicago.
“I’m staying in Seattle,” I said. “Maybe I haven’t said that before, but there’s really nothing for me back home anyway.”
As we’d gotten more comfortable with each other I’d shared more about my childhood, how I’d been living like a squatter my whole adult life while I worked dead-end jobs for no money, and what happened when I met my biological father.
Grandma’s eyes lit up. “Well then, I’m thrilled to hear that. I was hoping you’d stay in Seattle.”
“I really like it here. Someone at the shelter is going on maternity leave, and my boss offered to give me her schedule,” I continued.
“That means working full time for the next four months. My boss Julia promised if that works out she’ll move me into a permanent full-time position when something opens up. ”
Rumor had it the woman who was going on maternity leave wasn’t sure if she was coming back after the baby was born, so that was definitely a possibility. But if not, something else would come up.
“I’m so proud of you, dear,” Grandma said. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, the only thing I’ll ask is if you won’t be here you’ll let me know so I won’t be worried that you got run over by a bus or something.”
“I will Grandma, thank you.”
I started spending more time with my girlfriend after that. Most of the time I slept at Grandma’s house, but I stayed over one or two nights at Gretchen’s on the weekends when we were both off work. We all had dinner together at least once a week, alternating between houses.
Things were mostly going well between us, but I was growing uneasy with the way that Gretchen seemed to think she always had to take care of me.
At first I’d like the feeling of someone taking care of me.
It had made me feel safe and cared for, but gradually I started feeling like what I wanted was being disregarded.
The more comfortable we got, the more Gretchen acted like she knew what was best for me. Sometimes it felt like she was my caretaker instead of my girlfriend.
It started with her picking me up from work when I did overnight shifts.
Every time I worked overnight I’d tell her I was taking the bus home, and every morning I’d come out to see her parked in front of the shelter waiting for me.
A couple of times she gave me clothes that she just ‘happened’ to find when she went shopping, always claiming it was a big sale.
Whenever we went out she tried to pay for everything, always referencing that I was only working part-time.
And the day after I told her I was thinking of taking some college classes she appeared on my grandmother’s porch with a stack of brochures from local colleges.
It seemed weird to complain about someone being thoughtful.
I distinctly remembered wishing other people I dated would show me some consideration.
I also knew that being useful and taking care of people was how Gretchen showed her love, but there was something else there too.
A lack of agency. A feeling that she believed I wasn’t capable. It almost felt controlling.
Our relationship developed a power imbalance, and I was starting to feel stifled.
My grandmother was also helping me out a lot, but that felt different.
She didn’t push things on me, she gave me options, asked if I wanted help or advice before getting involved.
She didn’t just steamroll over me. Grandma always encouraged me to research things and make my own decisions.
I realized that the difference was that my grandmother saw me as someone to spend time with and support, while Gretchen saw me as someone to take care of.
It didn’t feel good. The more I tried to get her to give me space, the more it felt like she was overpowering me.
I wished that I had someone to talk to about my growing discomfort with Gretchen.
Ideally I should talk to her, but the few times I tried she rebuffed me, acting hurt that I was complaining about her doing nice things for me.
That just made me feel worse. I couldn’t talk to Grandma, given that she was friends with Gretchen, and I hadn’t been living in Seattle long enough to make any close friends yet.
It took another two weeks for things to come to a head…