Twelve #2
“And it doesn’t make sense to talk so openly about the essential importance of affection one second, then commodify it the next, then causally offer me a hug when you don’t even like me.”
Daphne blew out a heavy breath.
“Which is it, Daphne?”
“All of it,” she said. “Every last bit of it’s true.”
“It can’t all be true.”
“Affection in all its forms is essential to healthy human development, and yes, I provide it for a price to some people, and not to others. And yes, you can make an argument that it’s not great to commodify something every human needs to live a full life, but that’s true of a lot of things. Have you ever heard of capitalism?”
Gillian rolled her eyes. “I’m familiar.”
“Then you know people charge for all kinds of things that should be basic human rights, healthcare, shelter, food. Hell, people pay for clean water when they shouldn’t have to, but that doesn’t mean the people who ensure the water stays safe and flowing through our pipes don’t deserve to be compensated. ”
Gillian glanced away. “We keep going around and around about this.”
“We do.” Daphne gave into her own exasperation.
“And if you weren’t so freaking judgy, I wouldn’t even mind, because I grapple with these things, too.
I’d love to be out of a job. I’d love to live in a world where every human being could be touched with care and gentleness, patience and a sense of humor. ”
“Yeah,” Gillian nodded, and, for a second, it looked like she might be swallowing something hard.
“But we don’t live in a perfect world,” Daphne continued. “Some people—good, kind, loving, and hurt people—have to either live in a constant state of deprivation from one of their most foundational needs, or they can be brave enough and vulnerable enough to seek help.”
“And that’s where you meet them?” Gillian asked softly.
“I try to,” Daphne said softly.
“Is that where you tried to meet me tonight?”
“Maybe not at first, but I got there.”
“Then I’m sorry I turned out to be exactly the person you thought I’d be if you pushed hard enough.”
“For a second,” Daphne admitted. “You went right for the jugular in spectacular fashion. You never do anything halfway, which was also true of your apology.”
Gillian’s face flamed crimson. “I shouldn’t have had to issue one.”
“You did. And you did it well, and I forgive you.”
“Why?”
Daphne had to think about the question for a second.
Was it because Gillian had done so well, or shown up in the ensuing conversation with an openness and genuineness she’d never seen from her before?
Seemed good enough in her world, but she felt something more stirring there, too.
“Do you remember what you and your little Greek chorus of colleagues said on Halloween when I said you’d always needed a therapist? ”
“Everyone needs a therapist.”
“Yeah.” Daphne smiled at her. “Want to know something you’re going to hate for us to have in common?”
Gillian’s lips curled up once more. “Sure.”
“Everyone needs a hug every now and then, too.”
All the remaining fight went out of Gillian. “It’s been a while for me.”
Daphne’s heart cracked at the admission, but she held her ground, ready to also hold this woman’s burden if she’d let her. Opening her arms wide, she said, “Lucky for you I’m as good at my job as you are at yours.”
Gillian hesitated, the final hint of stubbornness undoubtedly making one last ditch effort. “And would hugging me test your skills?”
“It’s never a hardship to hug my friends.”
“Are we friends?” Gillian asked, but before Daphne could answer, she took the final step forward and folded her frame into the waiting embrace.
Daphne absorbed her, all the fight leaching out of her, all the restraint crumbling, all the shame trying to push its way back in. She held every bit of this woman’s body, strong and tired and aching to be soothed. She held her up and held her close, both in her arms and in someplace much deeper.
God, Daphne had resisted her stunning looks, her powerful poise, her sharp wit, and her impressive presence, but she’d been completely unprepared for the weight of her release, every bit as bold, beautiful, and all-consuming.
As the warmth of Gillian’s body enveloped her with the same totality she lent to every endeavor, Daphne was powerless to hold anything of herself in reserve.
As she ran a hand up Gillian’s back, into the softness of her hair, cradling her close, she breathed in the scent of citrus and new beginnings.
This was going to complicate things.
“I don’t have any more work.” Izzy closed her book, sounding entirely too sad about that fact, and Gillian adored her all the more for it.
“I get all next week off school, so my papa is taking me to Toronto with him over the weekend to give Mom some time at home alone to read or paint or whatever before we go back to Syracuse for Thanksgiving.”
The mention of Daphne returning to the city where they met threatened to summon a slew of memories for Gillian, and she’d had more than enough to contend with trying to make sense of the Daphne of here and now without dipping into past iterations of either of them.
“Are you looking forward to the holiday?”
Izzy shrugged. “Parts of it. I like seeing my older cousins. I guess it’ll be cool to see a couple of friends from my old school, but it’s also kind of weird because everyone there has their own lives, and I have my new friends here.
I feel like I’m becoming a different person than I used to be, and I don’t know if they are, too. ”
“Makes perfect sense. And for what it’s worth, that’s how I always feel about going back to Syracuse, too.”
“Oh yeah, you went to school with my mom.” Izzy brightened. “Are you going to Syracuse next week, too?”
“I’ll drive over Thursday morning, but I don’t like to take a lot of time off around the holidays.”
“Because your family gets on your nerves, too? My mom says healthy boundaries are the key to a happy extended family.”
Gillian laughed. “My family’s fine, mostly, but I like to be present with my clients on weeks I know can be hard for them.”
Izzy narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “My mom uses the same excuse, but, like, shouldn’t the holidays be the time when people are happiest?”
“Our culture tells us that, but anytime you start letting ‘should’ dictate feelings, it complicates things.” Gillian had to remind herself she was talking to an eleven-year-old, both because she didn’t have a ton of experience with kids, and because Izzy often seemed older.
“It’s especially true when things are already complicated to begin with, like wanting to see family while also wondering if things will be different with friends.
There’s nothing wrong with feeling both or acknowledging both, but when you start pressuring people to feel only the good or pretend they feel only the good, it creates problems.”
“So, you have to let people be a little unhappy in order for them to have happy holidays?” Izzy asked. “Kind of weird, but I get it.”
“I thought you might.” Gillan smiled down at her. “And I think because you do, you’ll probably end up having a better time than a lot of people.”
“What about you? Will you have fun, or does helping other people be okay make your holidays stressy?”
“You know, people don’t usually ask me that, but I have great friends who get it. So, we all get together and have a Friendsgiving the Sunday before Thanksgiving, which allows us to be with each other before we show up for everyone else.”