Chapter 12
SARAH
For the first time ever, meditation had the opposite effect on me.
I was so keyed up. I blamed myself for that one.
I knew holding hands with Jackie was a bad idea, and I offered it anyway.
We were almost ready for our turn to step into the tunnel.
We were in our safety gear, which consisted of a flight suit, helmet and goggles, and they showed us the pre-flight video for tips and safety. Our waivers were signed and filed away.
“J, are you good babe?” Checking in was important.
She took one last breath, glanced at our instructor, and nodded that she was ready to fly. I think once she realized we would be going in at ground level and have wind blowing us all around, she felt better about doing it.
Our instructor, James, worked with us individually at first to get us used to the environment and keeping our bodies steady.
Then he allowed us to go in together, and we flew up and around in circles and against the tunnel wall.
A staff member at a desk in the room was taking photos and recording footage periodically for us to view and keep later.
It was fucking exhilarating. That was the only way to describe it.
My heart was in my stomach, but I was having the most fun ever.
I couldn’t see Jackie’s facial expression, but in one move, she pulled me toward her so that we were in full body contact bear hug position.
She just held me there and screamed in my ear, “This is such a fucking rush. Thank you!”
Once our flight was over, the instructor handed us our certificates.
We removed our safety gear, and James guided us on how to access our photos and video footage from the HighFly site.
Jackie’s pale cheeks were wind-blown and breathtaking, but that smile was so bright, yet so rare, it could light the night sky.
I wanted to kiss her so damn bad, but I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
I made the first move, so if anything was going to happen again, I was leaving that up to her.
And if she wasn’t straight, it was her journey to discover, not mine to push her into.
“How are you feeling? Are you hungry or anything?” I knew she had fun, but I wanted to make sure her energy level was good.
“I could eat. Nothing too heavy, but maybe a snack would be great.”
I unlocked my car, and we slid into the seats, ready to find sustenance.
Ten minutes later, we parked at the storefront for a family-owned ice cream shop, but I knew they also had some sugar-free flavors. I turned to look at Jackie, and she had a grin the size of Texas on her face.
“What’s gotten into you?” I teased her, my tone full of mischief.
“Ice cream is my favorite dessert, but with the diabetes, I haven’t been able to indulge as often as I’d like. Thank you for this treat.” Her tone softened with tenderness and gratitude. I got it. It was the little things in life. The tiny gestures others did.
“Well, they also have some sugar-free flavors. Sample those first and see if they meet your sweet tooth’s standards.” I winked at her, and a blush creeped up her neck. Interesting.
With my waffle cone filled with two scoops of chocolate chip cookie dough and Jackie’s bowl filled with her own scoops of the sugar-free chocolate-vanilla swirl, we sat in companionable silence as we dug in. Simultaneously, we groaned at the initial flavors hitting our tongues.
“Jinx,” she called out after finishing her first bite.
A giggle burst out of her, and that sound was as sweet as the creamy concoction sliding down my throat.
I then vowed to do everything in my power to keep a smile on her face at all times.
Jackie deserved someone in her life, aside from her sister, who could bring her joy.
Not to complete her but to add to her life.
Crinkling my nose, I shook my head at her playfully.
“Can I ask you something?” I blurted out.
“Um, sure.” She hesitated.
“What made you cut your hair so short? I remember it was so long when we were younger.”
Before answering, Jackie paused and hung her head for a moment. I struck a nerve, it seemed, and I felt awful, until she explained.
“Years ago, I was diagnosed with PCOS. My hair was thinning so I made the difficult decision to cut it all off. It took me a while to get accustomed to the length. You know how attached we are to our hair as women, especially when there’s this idea about longer hair being equated with femininity.
And when I was talking to the woman cutting it, I asked for tips on making it look fuller again.
She suggested some volumizing products but also said I could curl it too, and that would add some depth to the look.
So here I am. That’s the story. It’s not a fun one, but it’s an honest and real one.
” She let out a huff and shrugged with a sad smile on her face that replaced the vibrant one from earlier.
“Fuck, Jackie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea, and I apologize for even bringing it up.
I know other people who live and struggle with PCOS.
Hair loss, unwanted hair in other areas, irregular periods, fertility problems, insulin resistance.
A shit show.” Uneasiness settled over me at the fact that the simple question of changing her hair led to having to talk about something so depressing.
“You don’t have to apologize, Sarah. I’ve adjusted in a lot of ways, and my hair was just one of them. I’ve rather enjoyed the shorter style, especially in the summer months. The Texas heat is brutal.” She fanned herself, which made me cackle since we were eating a frozen dessert in October.
“Also, I’m one of the fortunate ones that my diagnosis didn’t come with insulin resistance.
That’s how I’m able to manage my diabetes with it instead of other methods such as pills.
I tried those at first but had some not so pleasant side effects.
I also opted for some laser hair removal a few years ago, and the way it boosted my self-esteem was like nothing else.
But yeah, that’s my life. Therapy has helped me overcome so much over the past few years.
I don’t know where I’d be without Dr. Potter.
Recently, I started looking on social media for advocacy groups or just groups of other people with PCOS to be in community.
So many tips and tricks are offered up. They’re also just safe space to vent about how the diagnosis makes us feel, or how doctors have made us feel when we weren’t taken seriously or misdiagnosed.
” Jackie’s ice cream had started to melt during her monologue, so I allowed her space to retreat if needed.
She spooned a few more bites and proceeded.
“The PCOS was a major contributor to my divorce. I had trouble conceiving, and Timothy and I had tried other methods to get pregnant. After a few years of too much money spent, too many negative pregnancy tests, and the emotional toll it all took, he said he couldn’t do it anymore.
Him! Sarah, I can’t tell you how many times I was made to feel as if I was purely an incubator or a baby factory.
That I only existed for my husband to procreate and have a ‘legacy.’” Jackie let out a low growl of frustration. “Some legacy.”
“Sex became a chore. There was no more intimacy or love or affection left, and he had the nerve to be the one who ‘couldn’t do it anymore.’” I could see the moisture gathering in her eyes, and I felt mine welling up as well.
I offered her a napkin, and she quietly thanked me and dabbed the corners of her sad, beautiful eyes.
This woman was still grieving a marriage to an awful human, but I hoped she also realized how amazingly strong and resilient she was.
Scooting my chair around the table to sidle up next to her, I gestured, requesting consent to hug her.
She nodded without hesitation and fell into my open arms. No tears fell, but I sensed the tension in her body.
It slowly receded the longer we sat there in each other’s hold.
“Can I find him and punch him in the ball sac for you?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood in the air.
Jackie let out one of those cute chuckles again. Mission accomplished. She pulled out of my embrace and took a deep breath.
“Absolutely not worth your energy my friend.”
“Fair. And all your feelings are valid.”
“Speaking of feelings, we have yet to talk about what happened on the cruise, Sarah.”
“Which part? So much happened.” I knew exactly what she was referring to, but deflecting with humor came naturally to me.
She gave me the side-eye, and a petulant whine slipped out.
“I promise we will, but not here in public. Please.” Because words could lead to actions, and I didn’t know if she was ready for that.
“I’m ready to go when you are.” This time, I saw a glint in her eye, which confused the hell out of me. Apparently, we had a lot more to talk about than just a simple kiss.
The silence was deafening the whole drive back to my place.
Swirling, conflicting thoughts bogged my mind down to the point I didn’t even hear the music playing.
Jackie’s eagerness to bring up our brief almost-tryst while out on the sea felt random, but the conversation was necessary.
With the amount of chemistry and arousal that stirred between us in that moment, potential for more floated around.
My concern still hovered for the grief surrounding her divorce, as well as the unknown regarding her interest beyond friendship.
What the hell did she want? Those factors had led me to allow her space to come to terms with that herself without my pressuring her.
“You brought it up so I’ll let you go first,” I led with that, hoping Jackie would have the confidence to be open and honest about where she saw things going between us.