Ten
Daphne stepped out of her office behind Sam, the sweet, and very recently post-op trans man she’d been meeting with for a few weeks as he did the physical and emotional work of getting comfortable being held in the body he’d longed to possess, even though it all felt new and raw.
“Thanks again,” Sam said. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
Daphne beamed at him and fought the urge to tousle his messy mop of brunette hair. “I have no doubt you are.”
“See you next week?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly on the inflection.
“I’m already looking forward it.”
He blushed sheepishly. “Me too.”
She watched him walk away, then caught sight of Hugh coming in the opposite direction. He was still dressed for work with a crisp white shirt and vibrant indigo tie neatly visible under a knee-length, gray wool jacket.
He swung open the front door with the same gusto with which he did so many things, giving even the mundane an air of drama. “Oh hello, Love. Was that one of your adoring snuggle bugs on the way out?”
She shook her head. “You know I can’t say.”
“No, of course not, but if the boy mentions he’s looking for a father figure, perhaps pass along my card.”
She laughed. “He’s twenty-four. You wouldn’t.”
Hugh laughed. “Probably not, but it’d be fun to let myself be tempted.”
“Hmm.” Daphne didn’t quite argue, as it had been long enough that she wouldn’t mind a little temptation of her own.
“Where’s the other love of my life?” Hugh segued before she’d fully let herself register her own wistfulness.
“Probably in the waiting room doing homework.” Daphne took a few steps back down the hallway and pointed through the window.
Sure enough, Izzy sat at the reception desk, head bent low over a set of papers while Gillian leaned over her, hip resting lightly on the desk, one hand bracing herself, and a pencil tucked behind her ear.
Just then, Izzy looked up at her and smiled brightly.
Gillian returned the expression with open affection Daphne had never seen in her before.
A pang of something she didn’t recognize and didn’t love lanced through her chest, but before she had a chance to examine it, Gillian glanced up and met her eyes.
Whatever the previous emotion had been, it exploded tenfold.
Gillian was stunning, always, but especially when she focused the intensity that seemed so uniquely hers. Only she’d never focused on Daphne. She always looked past her or through her, as if searching for something more engaging on the horizon.
And true to form, the minute they pushed open the door, someone else caught Gillian’s attention. “You must be Hugh.”
“Papa!” Izzy jumped up. “This is Gillian. She’s helping me with math.”
“The one and only.” He laughed lightly. “How generous of you to take an interest in Izzy’s homework.”
“Oh, this isn’t homework,” Izzy said excitedly. “It’s for fun. We’re plotting relational variables on graph paper.”
“Thrilling,” Hugh said drolly, then turned to Gillian. “Better you than me. Either way, it’s lovely to meet you.”
Gillian extended her hand, posture formal, but her expression warm. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Your name has come up a few times in different contexts.” He shot a quick and pointed glance at Daphne. “Though no one mentioned …”
“Is it time to go to fencing?” Izzy asked.
“You’ve got a few minutes, Love.” Hugh smiled down at her, and Daphne said a little prayer of thanks for their daughter disrupting whatever train of thought Gillian had sparked. “Why don’t you wrap up here with Ms. Gillian while your mum shows me her new office? Then we’ll head out.”
“Okay.” Izzy glanced up at Gillian. “I mean, is it okay?”
“Of course. Math first, then swordplay. Sounds like a perfect evening.”
Hugh chuckled as he took hold of Daphne’s arm and guided her back across the hall.
Then closing the door gently behind them, he leaned against the wall with a Cheshire cat grin.
“I adore what you’ve done with the place, Darling, exquisite use of color and texture.
The vibe is delightfully cozy. Now quick, tell me every single thing about the divine creature across the hall. ”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “Not you, too.”
“I’m sorry. Is there another appropriate reaction to meeting Business Barbie over there?”
Daphne laughed. “Oh, she’d hate that.”
“Okay, but tell me I’m wrong. I’ve worked with the upper crust of society women and the corporate elite in three countries, and any one of them would gladly off her for a chance to steal a sliver of her bearing.
The legs, the bone structure, the way the suit fits like God herself tailored it to her frame. ”
“Okay, okay.” Daphne waved him off. “She’s put together, always has been, no need to belabor the point. She’s also smart and sharp-witted, and smells of oranges and something spicy. She probably doesn’t go around kicking puppies or anything heinous, but is this where we set the bar on humanity?”
“No, of course not. Most humans would faceplant into a hurdle that size, but I didn’t mean to trigger you. I’m just surprised. You undersold her quite a bit, and I also sort of got the sense you found her cold, like maybe even bordering on outright bitchy.”
“I didn’t go that far. I’d never talk about a woman quite that way.”
“But you’d think it.”
“Among other things.” Daphne softened. “Gillian is actually a bunch of other things, or she has the potential to be as the situation needs. She can be engaging and intellectual, confident and cool. Plenty of people find her inspiring in a variety of ways. I mean, I’ve never seen the appeal to quite that level, but she amasses a legion of followers wherever she goes.
People trust her, and they’re loyal to her, and she seems loyal to them. I guess she’s not always an ice queen.”
“And if you knew all of this about her, why hasn’t it come up before? You’ve been in this office more than a month. I haven’t heard any of it.”
“Because I haven’t lived any of it. I mean, we talked a little bit, about Izzy.
” Daphne remembered the sincerity of Gillian saying she was impressed with their family structure and the daughter they’d raised, but, honestly, she’d tried not to read too much into it.
She didn’t trust the other shoe not to drop.
Which was pretty unlike her, but Gillian had rarely appealed to her better impulses.
“She’s all the things with all the people except me. It’s been true since high school.”
“No one is their most evolved self at sixteen. But what about now?”
Daphne shrugged.
He waited patiently.
“I guess she’s been better lately. Sort of. At least she’s not been outwardly snarky. She got me coffee one day, and she included me in the Halloween thing, even though she clearly didn’t know Robin had invited me.”
“That’s something, I suppose.”
“The good things I see in her are generally outside my sphere, though. She’s got excellent people around her, and she’s doing important work.
I’ve watched her welcome clients over the last few weeks and joke with her team and run a business that’s doing legitimate good in the community.
Most of all, she’s embraced Izzy with a level of genuine interest I’ll admit surprises me.
I guess a part of me still has a hard time trusting it. ”
“Trust it how?”
“It’s a bit like reading a great work of fiction or watching a well-made movie.
She can be captivating, and I think within the various contexts she’s quite a sight to behold.
” An image of Gillian in full costume drawing her bow sprang to mind unsummoned.
“But I don’t live in a book or a movie. I’m real, and messy, and I know she doesn’t respect what I do.
It’s like she’s got a script, and I’m over here trying to do improv. ”
“Aw, you were so good at improv in college.”
“Damn right I was, but that’s not the point for Gillian. Nothing I do off the cuff will ever pass her vibe test. I don’t have a five-year plan or polished portfolio or an operation manual.”
“Honey, you’re a human, not a Chevy.”
“And most of the time I’m quite happy with that. I like myself, quirks and all. I like my life and the meaning I make around it. I love my job and my family.”
He smiled sweetly. “Me too. All of the above. So, what’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem,” she said quickly. “Gillian and I are vastly different people who want radically different things in life. It’s hard not to compare my messiness to her version of put together, especially when she’s wowing my daughter and impressing literally everyone in the process.”
“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I adore your messiness.” Hugh wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in. “Come on. Let’s go back over there and break it up.”
She shook her head, but he opened the door and nudged her through. Only when she glanced up to see Gillian and Izzy talking animatedly, it finally hit her what emotion she’d been struck with earlier.
Envy.
In letting it settle over her, watching Izzy’s adoration and Gillian’s open approval, her focus, her interest so freely given, Daphne realized she didn’t want to break it up, so much as she wished she was a part of it.
Gillian didn’t know how it had gotten so late, but she moved through the crowded room with a sense of purpose she found settling.
Britney Spears’s “You Drive Me Crazy” played from the DJ’s speaker, and somewhere across the room, someone called her name. She should be dancing, and under normal circumstances she would, but tonight the song choice felt entirely too on the nose.
She headed for the back door, knowing where she’d find Daphne, where she always found Daphne. She didn’t even remember how she knew it, but did, as sure as she knew her own name.
Stepping around a folding table laden with punch and party decorations, she placed her hand on the cool metal bar across the door, and with a slow exhale, pushed it open.
Her eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness, but she felt Daphne waiting there even before she saw her sitting atop the hood of her red Ford Tempo. Gillian stepped into the night, letting the last connection to safety in numbers click closed behind her.
Daphne watched her approach, uncharacteristically quiet as an unseasonably warm night breeze stirred dark hair.
She wore a dress, shimmering blue to almost black in the distant halo of a streetlamp, but unlike the first time Gillian had found her like this, it didn’t hang from her loosely.
No, tonight Daphne wasn’t a girl, gangly and still growing into herself, but rather a woman in every right.
Her body held hints of infinity, and the steadiness of her gaze held no questions.
She knew what Gillian had come for. They both did, and the knowledge granted a boldness that had been absent all those years ago.
Gillian allowed herself the luxury of actually looking at her, unhurried and unashamed, taking in every detail from the lush curve of her hips to the swell of her breasts straining the V-neckline of the dress to the thick curls cascading around the smooth softness of her face.
The deep espresso eyes raking over Gillian suggested Daphne may be doing the same kind of unapologetic inventory.
She was beautiful and warm and alluring in ways that made it hard to breathe.
Why had it taken Gillian so long to notice?
Or had she known all along? Was that why she’d refused to let herself truly take her in?
Had Daphne’s fullness been too much to look at directly, like the sun?
Did it matter why she’d waited now that the deed was done?
There was no unknowing something you’d already let settle against your skin.
Gillian stepped closer, knees brushing the inside of Daphne’s thigh, then lifted a hand to cup her cheek.
Daphne leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut briefly before meeting Gillian’s and revealing an entire world in their dark depths. Her lips parted on the sweet release of a heavy breath, and Gillian ran her thumb lightly over them.
Then lowering her head, Gillian hovered there only long enough to relish the anticipation, but just when she couldn’t wait a second longer to surrender, the sound of laughter echoed around them, loud, rich, and reverberating. It shook the air, shook the car, shook her core.
Gillian’s whole body tensed, then she wrenched away from Daphne and awoke in her own bed.
Panting, she lay sticky with sweat on flannel sheets and stared at the dark ceiling as she tried to anchor herself to the present.
She wasn’t in the high school parking lot. She wasn’t eighteen. She wasn’t standing close enough to Daphne to feel her shudder.
She was a grown woman in her own home, in her own bed, alone.
The anticipation of the kiss she’d never felt faded first. The laughter ringing through her ears proved more persistent, though she’d learned over the years that time would dull even that, or at least relegate it to the realm of warning.
Perhaps that was the root of the dream, a sort of subconscious security alert she’d let those reminders slip too far into the gray.
Daphne had been back in her life for more than a month, and Gillian had grown used to her presence in the waiting room, to shared small talk at the coffee maker, even to social interaction at community events.
Her friends quickly became Daphne’s friends, too, and as much as she wanted to resent that fact, she couldn’t blame them. Daphne was almost maddeningly friendly.
Gillian had not been fully immune, either, at least not by proxy. She’d allowed herself to grow attached to Izzy, and she’d enjoyed meeting Hugh. Hell, she’d been utterly impressed by the whole family and the way Daphne had queered even the most heteronormative of structures.
She’d been so taken in by all the trappings that she’d allowed herself to overlook, or at least not look too closely at, what actually went on across the hall.
Daphne’s laughter rose up to haunt her. She deserved it. She’d dropped her guard once more, and her brain, her greatest asset and most steadfast protector, sent a vivid reminder of what happened when she’d lowered her defenses around Daphne the first time.
Rolling onto her side, Gillian curled into a ball and checked the clock on her nightstand. Four forty-five in the morning wasn’t her favorite time of the day, but it was close enough to her normal rise and shine time that she kicked off the covers.
An extra-long turn on the treadmill should do the trick of burning away the haze of shame she refused to let take root after all these years.
Then she needed to get back to work.