Twenty-Three
“I’m ravenous,” Daphne said, her body draped half over Gillian’s exquisite form.
“Again?” Gillian sounded part incredulous, part pleased with herself. “We just finished round three.”
Daphne laughed. “I meant for food this time. You gave me quite a workout. I need sustenance.”
“Ah, well that I did, but it’s only fair. You’ve kept me from the gym two mornings this week. I don’t think I’ve missed my morning run more than once in a week for years.”
Now it was Daphne’s turn to feel smug. “Someone must be pretty special to shake such an ingrained routine.”
Gillian rolled her onto her back and stared down at her. “Someone is.”
She melted into the mattress under the sheer heat of this woman and may’ve succumbed to her all over again if not for her stomach growling loudly.
Gillian smiled and eased off her. “Skipping the gym might be one thing, but apparently skipping breakfast is another.”
“Care to stick around? I have decaf Earl Grey and some truly mediocre English muffins.”
“That’s truly unappetizing, and yet I don’t feel any impulse to leave, so if it’s not the culinary offerings, it must be the company inspiring me to throw caution to the wind or at least delay my morning routine.”
Daphne’s heart swelled. Gillian’s perfection annoyed her less and less every time it reared up again, and she’d had several instances in the last few hours alone to inoculate her.
As she brushed her teeth, she replayed several scenes from the last eight or so hours.
When she stripped the tablecloth from the dining room table, she was unable to see anything but Gillian’s flawless body laid out like a buffet.
When she collected her pajamas, she felt a shiver run up her spine at the memory of Gillian whispering in her ear while she took her from behind.
When she delivered a fluffy towel for Gillian to use after her shower, Daphne remembered the way Gillian had wrapped her up and held her close after she’d shared her most awful insecurities.
The woman was a ceaseless wonder. She couldn’t remember now why she’d tried to deny it. Daphne had spent so much time thinking Gillian had everyone snowed when, in reality, she’d been the one intent on missing the obvious.
“I feel semi-functional again.” Gillian strode into the kitchen wearing her sweats from the night before topped off with a Syracuse hoodie that was too big for Daphne, but still stretched a little short at the midriff.
She was glorious even in something that didn’t quite suit her, because when it came down to it, everything seemed to suit her. “When do you have to be in the office?”
“Not until ten. It’s my morning to take Izzy to school, but Hugh texted he can take care of it.”
“Have I mentioned that I really like Hugh?”
“Of course you do.” Daphne snorted softly, but the comment pleased her. “He’s the gay male version of you.”
“Huh.” Gillian seemed to ponder the idea. “He is a sharp dresser with ample talent in the kitchen, and great taste in scotch.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “And you’re both so modest.”
“He also has great taste in women … which is surprising to find out we have the same type in that department.”
Daphne laughed. “Awkward, but I’ll have to concede a bit, because I was pretty upset with him for inviting you over here last night, only for you to prove him right about what I needed again.”
“I do believe I contributed more in the meeting-of-needs department than he did.”
“Oh, good Lord, is this what you’re like in the morning all the time, or just when you got laid the night before? I’m not sure I can handle cocky you outside of the bedroom.”
“You handled cocky me in the dining room last night,” Gillian said, then caught herself. “Nope, I heard it that time. Too much. I opened my mouth and Robin came out.”
“I like it,” Daphne admitted, a little surprised.
She enjoyed all the new sides she’d seen of Gillian lately and looked forward to unearthing more.
The thought struck her. They hadn’t talked about ‘more.’ They’d talked about their pasts, their fears, their desires, but nothing close to plans for the future.
She decided to start small. “What about your day? When do you have to head to work?”
“By nine. It’ll be a long day. I moved a couple of clients around for the snow day. I also have a meeting with Lauren and Jess after hours.”
“Wow.” Daphne pulled a few English muffins from a bag and sliced them in half. “Here I was thinking I was the only woman you met after hours.”
“You’re my favorite woman to meet with after hours. You are pleasure. Lauren and Jess are business, or at least they’d like to be.”
She popped breakfast into the toaster oven. “How so?”
“They’ve contacted me about the prospect of facilitating a sport psychology component to their fencing academy program.”
Excitement pricked at Daphne’s senses. “Seriously?”
Gillian nodded thoughtfully. “It’s still a vague idea. No one knows for sure what it would look like or how much it would entail. I get the sense a lot would be up to me to craft as I see fit.”
“You’d be amazing at that.” Daphne beamed at her, only to realize Gillian’s brow had furrowed. “What am I missing? This seems perfect for you. Sports and mental health are, like, two of your great passions in life, and you’d get to work with an Olympian.”
“An Olympian.” She brightened briefly as awe crept into her voice. “The idea of helping to craft a healthy blend of peak physical and mental performance …”
“Kicks that little high-achieving heart of yours into a higher gear, doesn’t it?”
Gillian finally grinned, but then quickly shook her head. “There are a lot of unknowns.”
“So, make them known. That’s one of the many things you’re good at, making things make sense.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not part of the plan.”
Daphne grabbed two small plates from the cabinet. “What plan?”
“My five-year plan.” The frustration rose in Gillian’s voice. “I made a plan in grad school. It’s a good plan. It makes sense. It makes everything make sense.”
“In five years?” Daphne chuckled. “That is a good plan.”
“I’m not joking, but I am behind.”
This time, when Daphne turned back around, the tension in Gillian’s shoulders could be seen from across the room. “It’s okay to make your five-year plan a six-year plan.”
“But this diversion might make it a ten-year plan, or a never plan. I’m not sure that is okay.”
“Why not? Plans change.”
“Maybe dinner plans or weekend plans, but I’m talking about a lifetime plan, one to give me security and a sense of self and stability, but things keep going off the rails at work, so I haven’t felt secure enough to do the thing that’s supposed to bring long-term security, which is a vicious cycle, feeling more chaotic by the day. ”
“Gillian,” Daphne said seriously. “You’re hardly a chaos gremlin.”
“You don’t understand what my life has been like the last two years.”
“The series of provocations?” Daphne tried to hide her smile by turning to open the toaster oven, but Gillian must’ve heard the shift in her tone.
“Do you think this is a joke?”
“Out of you?” She plated the muffins. “Never.”
“Okay.” Gillian sounded flat-out annoyed. “Sure. I guess it probably is to you. Just floating on through doesn’t bring a real sense of urgency. What do you care if I’m supposed to be moving back toward academia by now?”
She sat down and slid one of the plates across the table. “I care if you love academia.”
“I used to. I also used to love private practice, and some days I still do.”
“And what about sports? Do you love sports?”
“Of course.”
“So, just figure out what you love most and do that. Easy.”
Gillian sighed. “Nothing about that is easy or as simple as you’re making it sound. And Maura’s already halfway retired.”
“Maura? Sawyer’s mother?”
“Correct. I’m supposed to take over her legacy of work.”
“I got the sense none of you liked her much.”
“Another thing that’s not so simple,” Gillian said. “She’s the most prolific and respected researcher in our field.”
“Ah. And I know you do love research.”
“I do.”
“How do you reconcile the woman and the work and whatever she did to your friend to make things so tense?”
Gillian hung her head. “I’ve not done well at all on that front.
I think I kept a foot in both camps and tried to compartmentalize until last summer, when I just couldn’t.
Since then I’ve focused on Sawyer, but I can’t ignore Maura forever.
She was a terrible mother, but she’s a brilliant psychologist and scientist.”
Daphne’s own defense spiked at the last bit of blunt summary. “Those two things don’t cancel each other out. It’s not an even trade.”
“No.” Gillian made no attempt to argue. “Nothing about it has ever been even, as much as I tried to make it. I’ve struggled.
We all have, but it doesn’t mean my life’s work is bad.
The plan’s a good one, regardless of Maura’s shortcomings as a parent.
It’s served me well, and it could serve a lot of people going forward. ”
“Couldn’t sport psychology do the same thing without the baggage? You’d help a lot of young athletes. Seems like it could lead to interesting research, too.”
“But it’s not as serious, and the path isn’t nearly as clear.
I’d have to start back from scratch, but if I follow Maura, I could be the heir to a thriving program that’s well respected and established.
Plus, I know exactly how that would dovetail with my private practice.
It’s clean and clear, and it would build all of our statuses in the community without risking anything I’ve worked so diligently to build. ”
“But will it make you happy? Will you have to make the same trades Maura did? Will you wake up excited every day? Or will you just keep looking for the next crisis? Will it ever be your own, or will it always be Maura’s legacy you feel pressured to uphold?”
Gillian pushed back from the table without touching her breakfast. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“I’m trying, but you don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?”