Orchid Ch. 03

"I don't have a problem saying that I'm nervous about this," Susan says, as soon as we're close enough for civil volume. She keeps her expression neutral, if a bit tight around the eyes. "We've never introduced her to anyone like this before."

"Is he here?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "It's just the three of us."

I nod and breathe slowly. "Who are the other two?"

"They live across the street," Susan says, as she turns to stand beside me. "We come here a lot on the weekends, and they always come out to play with her." We watch together for a moment as Bridget tromps around the corner of a wooden castle, marching with the kind of unrestrained smile that only kids can really pull off. The other two follow quickly in her wake, skipping and giggling toward the slide that will whisk them safely away from the alligators that are chasing them.

"She's going to run the world someday," Susan whispers. I nod, watching the hierarchy play out. It's hard to ignore the tightness already creeping into my throat. This is part of the reason they want me. To help this small human grow up. I can feel myself putting distance between us, thinking of her as a small human and not the adorable little bundle of cuteness she is, to keep from getting my hopes too high too quickly because that's a problem for me.

It's impossible to keep up. She has so much light within her. I can't look at her and not think 'This is it. This is my chance.'

"Would you like to just sit for a minute?"

I nod, and the two of us walk back over to the bench. Susan picks up her book and tucks it under her arm. Each of us sitting with one leg crossed over the other. She periodically looks over at me, just for a moment, before looking back to the action and high drama. The alligators catch the other girl, whose name I think is Lexi, and her brother launches into pitched battle to save her while Bridget delivers a rousing speech that turns into song halfway through. The more she sings, the more Susan's daughter twirls in place, drifting away from the shared imaginary peril.

Soon all three of them are singing. None of the words are the same, but the melodies almost line up.

"Is that Let It Go?"

"Yes," Susan says, smiling. "They're all on a big Frozen kick."

"Did Calvin tell you that I'm... that I'm probably sterile?"

Susan nods. "I wouldn't go so far as to say that was a notch in the 'pro' column for you, but it definitely felt like we were in a position to be offering you something... desirable." She clears her throat and looks down at her knee. "May I clarify something? From before?"

I nod.

"We aren't looking for a live-in babysitter. We don't want you to step in and be a surrogate mother so that we can focus on our jobs. We don't want you to put your life on hold for a few years to raise our kid."

"What do you want?"

"Someone who will love her. Someone who will help us share the load. No more and no less."

"I would want to stay in school."

"If that's what you wanted, then yes. We would make every effort to make our schedules work so that we could all have time with her, and have time together, and have time with each other. As fairly and evenly as we can manage."

"That's..." I swallow and nod, not sure how to finish that sentence. "Okay."

"We don't—" Susan takes a deep breath to compose herself. "We don't have a road map for any of this. We don't know anyone who's ever attempted this, let alone..." She takes my extended silence as answer and sits back.

The boy is the oldest of the three, older than his sister and Bridget who appear to be about the same age, but they follow Bridget. There's something about her, something in her presence, that the other two just fall in behind her. When Bridget pronounces that the alligators have returned, the other two don't waste a second before jumping right in with her and shrieking as they flee in unison.

She definitely gets that from her mother, and I can't help but smile.

"Mommy!"

"Yes Baby?"

Bridget leans forward at the waist, putting as much emphasis on each word through sheer forward motion as she can manage without moving her feet. "The alligators are vampires now!"

Susan blinks, smiling slowly, and she turns to me when I touch her arm.

"The alligators are vampires," I repeat softly.

"Oh! Oh no!" she says, turning back to her daughter. "What are you going to do?"

"Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!" All three of them shriek, arms flailing, as they tear around the edge of the playground, and Susan sits back with a smile.

"Thank you," she says softly.

"Does she know? About your hearing?"

"Yes. We talk about it, but she doesn't always realize when she's not facing me, or that moving her head around makes it harder to follow what she's saying." She keeps looking back and forth, between me and Bridget.

"I can keep my eye on her," I say, "if you want to just watch me."

Susan shifts on the bench, turning slightly toward me. "I didn't think you'd be ready to talk very much."

"Actually... I don't know that I am."

"But you still wanted to be helpful." Susan nods and sits back, while still facing me. "That was your first instinct. To give. To watch her so that I can look away, even if only for a minute."

"I don't really think I'm ready to take compliments either," I say, swallowing hard.

"It wasn't a compliment," she says, "just an observation," but her smile afterwards says it was an observation she approved of. "Did you want to meet her?"

"Actually, I got really nervous when you said that you were nervous." I lick my lips and squirm. "I hadn't really thought through how... damaging it could be to have people entering and leaving her life when she's so young. People who say they're going to care for her, and then disappear."

"Are you planning on disappearing?"

"No!" I say quickly. She tilts her head and narrowing her eyes slightly. Not suspiciously, but... appraisingly. "No, but... I don't know. This shouldn't have been the first thing I did. I'm second guessing myself now."

Susan nods slowly, and smiles as she turns back toward the action. "She'll ask about you later. Who was Mommy sitting with? I'm going to tell her it was a really good friend. That's enough for her at this stage."

"Okay," I say, shrinking in on myself just a little. "I should go."

Susan takes my hand as I stand, and I turn toward her. "Before you leave... There are tons of books on parenting and never-ending parade of quote-unquote authorities. They're all rubbish. Every little boy or girl, every one of them, is a different kind of miracle with their own special brand of hell thrown in."

I snicker and bite down on my lip.

"The point is that there are a million things you couldn't know about Bridget, and about kids, until you get there. Not until one of them is ruining all the preconceptions you had in the most adorably frustrating way. The measure of a parent is how you handle those little revelations."

I pause, standing still and not really knowing what to do with that.

"Calvin and I both agreed that it would be alright if you met Bridget. I know you're still mad, and you have every right to be, but we both trusted that you were coming today for the right reasons. You as much as proved that just now. Thank you for that."

I nod slowly, and she lets go of my hand. I duck my head as I fast-walk through the grass to the sidewalk.

"Byyyyyyyyye!"

I turn, wide-eyed, to see Bridget on top of the down-scaled castle, waving to me with a huge, beaming grin. I weakly wave back, covering my mouth with my other hand, and scurry away.

***

Knock-knock

I look up, as much as I can from the middle of a Downward Facing Dog. Really all I can do is look just past my palms. It's almost 9, so I wait to see if they knock again. I barely have the patience most nights to get through yoga, even though I swear by the results, and an interruption of any kind is likely to derail the effort en—

Knock-knock-knock

"Coming," I say, walking my feet up slowly. I keep an aluminum baseball bat behind my front door just in case, even though I've never had need or cause for it, and my eye is on it as I walk through my apartment. I always feel like my posture is so much better after yoga. Like my legs have relearned the proper way to walk, and my lower back has the right kind of arch to it. Even though it's exhausting, I always feel invi—

Everything comes to a screeching halt when I slide the cover away from the peephole and stare at the fish-eye deformed shape of Calvin Ayers in the hallway of my building.

"Kit?"

Fuck! I let the cover slide back down into place and lean against the door.

"Kit? Are you there?"

Fuck! Fuck! "I'm not ready to talk to you," I croak.

"Kit," he says, voice lowering. "Please."

I gasp when I feel my hand on the doorknob. It's frightening how eager I am. "I don't think I should—"

"Kit."

I don't know what it is about his voice. What quality it has that I can't resist. It's not commanding. It's not expecting. It's not... dismissive. It's not arrogant.

"Please."

I'm proud of myself for at least grabbing the baseball bat with my other hand as I open the door.

"May I come in?"

I can't force the words out of my mouth, and my tongue can't figure out which answer to give first, but my feet make the decision for me by stepping back and away from the door. His eyebrows rise a hair when he notices the bat, but he says nothing. He stands up tall (God, he's tall) and looks around, and suddenly I'm incredibly self-conscious about how small my apartment is.

"These are beautiful," he says, turning to face one of the canvases on the floor. He leans his head to the side and smiles. "What's this one?"

I close my eyes and clench my jaw for a moment to try and get it to stop quivering. "I don't know yet," I stammer.

He takes another step and leans back slightly, looking at it from a different angle.

"I thought, for a little while, that it might be a... a balloon, but now I'm..."

Calvin nods, giving it one last look. "Is someone else here?"

I follow his confused gaze to the rumpled sheets on my couch, and shake my head. "My sister. Sh-she's not here now."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

I stare at him, hard, and he nods after a moment. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of tilting my head back to look at him and instead glare at him through my eyebrows, and my eyes go wide when he places his hands on my bare upper arms. Now I'm self-conscious about being in just a sweaty tank top, sports bra, and leggings.

"I know I betrayed your trust. I know that I hurt you." It's hard not to shudder at the way his fingers squeeze. I try to focus on gripping the handle of the bat tightly. "I also know that saying that I'm sorry isn't enough."

"It's not," I say, hoarsely. My eyes sting.

Calvin nods. "I hope that you can at least understand why we did what we did. The truth is..." He looks down and exhales slowly. "The truth is that we're struggling. Susan and I. We're growing as people, independent of one another, and we're doing everything we can to save our marriage. We want it to work, both for ourselves and for Bridget. We've been trying different things, counselling and... you know... We think you are our best hope."

"No pressure," I growl.

Calvin frowns sadly and nods. "It's not your responsibility to fix us. That's not what I meant. I'm sorry if it sounded like that."

"You should start thinking to yourself, before you say something, 'Hmmm. Am I going to have to apologize for this later? If yes, then maybe I shouldn't say it.' "

"I'm trying to be honest with you."

"It's a little late for that," I snap.

Calvin nods. "That's fair."

"I don't need you to tell me when I'm being fair!"

He licks his lips, eyes scanning back and forth as he looks down.

"Do you know what kind of pressure that puts on me?!"

"Kit—"

" 'Sorry we fucked up our lives. Good luck fixing this and oh-by-the-way let's hope you can so we don't scar this perfectly innocent little bundle we made.' "

"Kit—"

"Better work fast. She's gonna start noticing when Mommy isn't there to tuck her in at night!"

His hands tighten around my arms, and I yelp. "I know you're hurting, and I know that you're hurting because you have feelings for me."

"Of course I have feelings for you!" I shriek. "I love you, and it's tearing me apart!"

Calvin nods, face pale, and he's thoughtful while I weep.

"On your knees."

I don't know what's more shocking; that he said it, or that I did it. The bat makes a loud noise as it rolls away from me across the uneven floor. It's humbling to think about how much power he has over me.

But then Calvin gets down on his knees in front of me. He sits back on his heels, hands still holding my arms, and pulls me forward so my shoulders, hips, and knees are in a straight line up and down. So that he and I are eye-to-eye.

"I love you too."

I'd have collapsed if he hadn't been holding me up. It's hard looking him in the eye and seeing him cry too.

"I. Love. You." The stunted quality of his voice has more to do with shaking than anything else. Like he has to start each sentence from scratch to keep from breaking down. It was easier to hate him when I thought he didn't care. "I love you."

"I know," I whimper.

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

Calvin nods. Both of us trembling.

"In relationships," he says, speaking slowly, "with a... power dynamic, the dominant has a lot of responsibility. It is extremely easy for them to hurt their partner. To take advantage of them, and abuse them."

I nod.

"You put your trust in me, and I didn't honor that. Partly because I couldn't, and partly because the reality of having power over someone else is new to me. My experience has been different up until now."

I nod.

"If we move forward I may misstep here and there, but never on purpose."

"Okay," I croak.

"I love you."

"I love you too," I say. I try to lean forward, to move closer so that I can be touching him again, and holding him again, but he keeps me at arm's length. Fingers like a vice around my upper arms.

"Not yet," he says. "I know you're still mad at me, and I don't want you to push that aside out of lust, or the pressure of expectations. I don't need you to forgive me sooner than you're ready to forgive me."

Dear God, I love him.

"You and me," he says, letting go with one hand to bring it up into the air palm facing down, "we're here. Right now, you and Susan are down here." He lets go of me with his other hand, and brings it between us below the first hand. Palm facing down. "It's important, for everyone involved, for those two to come even."

I nod.

"I know I'm asking a lot with this, but do you think you could love Susan?"

I nod.

"I'm not asking you to love her now, or insisting you manufacture feelings for her out of thin air. She's a good woman."

"I know," I say.

Calvin sighs heavily, shoulders slumping, and he smiles. "One step at a time then." He reaches over and takes my hands in his, gently cradling them. "I don't think I ever noticed how small your hands are."

I don't really know how to answer that but my cheeks try anyway, blushing profusely.

"This weekend. Are you free?"

I blink, looking through the kitchen wall toward my purse. "Um..." Trying to conjure the image of the work schedule I have folded and tucked into the front pocket. "I think so. Maybe. I can clear it if it's important."

"It is," he says, taking a big breath and composing himself. "Susan has something she wants to show you."

"Okay," I croak, still much less self-possessed than he is. "What is it?"

"I don't know," he confesses. "I'm not sure what she has planned. She'll get in touch... probably tomorrow."

"Okay."

Calvin nods, and grips my hands tighter to help me up to my feet. He climbs up just after me, still holding me but keeping me at a safe distance. When he turns for the door, I grab his arm before he can get it much more than cracked open.

"Wait."

He turns back to me, jaw tight.

"The reason it hurt so much," I say, raising my chin, "is because I have loved you since before you knew my name."

He smiles and shakes his head. "I told you. You stood out."

"Fuck," I whisper, knees shaking.

"Very early."

I nod frantically. "Tha-thank you. For not taking advantage of me tonight."

His eyes glow. Lips curled perfectly. "It's not because I didn't want to."

"Fuck."

"Good night, Kit."

Calvin leaves, closing the door behind him, before I can manage a response. I just stand there, stunned and unsteady on my feet. After a few moments, I stagger into the bedroom, legs weak, and pull out the KY and the purple silicone. My leggings come down to mid thigh, just enough to be out of the way, and I cry out as I feel him inside of me again. It doesn't take very long to find release, and then the haze finally starts to lift.

***

It's already chilly as I stand on the sidewalk outside my apartment. Seems a little early in the year for that, but at least I feel like I packed appropriately. Susan's black BMW X5 pulls up right on time, and she comes around from the driver's side to meet me.

"Hello," she says, taking my hands.

I nod, remaining mostly stiff while she hugs me lightly.

"Do you have a driver's license?"

I blink. "...Yes?"

"Okay good. It's not a given living in the city, and I didn't want to presume. Do you mind driving?"

"This?" I say, looking at the pristine BMW. "You want me to drive this?"

"It's easier for me," she says.

I nod slowly. "Of-of course. Sure. Where am I going?"

"I already have the GPS programmed," she says. She looks down, takes one of the two bags I have packed, and leads the way to the trunk. She has more luggage than me, but there's still plenty of room behind the back seat for it all.

It's like stepping into another world when I sit down in the driver's seat. "This is the nicest car I've ever been in," I mumble. "I don't... I don't want to..."

"I can drive if you're nervous," she says.

"No no. I'm okay."

It takes me a minute to figure out adjusting the seat, the mirrors, and the height and set of the steering column. I don't drive often, preferring the subway and cabs, but I've done it enough that I'm not a complete novice. I feel a little better about it once we get moving, and a lot better about it once we get on the Interstate. The GPS gives clear, concise, and repeated instructions, and Susan seems content to watch.

She's seated almost sideways, with her back against the side door. One knee stretched across the seat.

"Just to be clear," she says, surprising me by breaking almost 10 minutes of silence, "I'm nervous about this too."

"Thank you," I say, hand pressed to my chest. "That wasn't obvious."

"You work as a receptionist, yes? At a clinic?"

"A Veterinary clinic, yes."

"Do you like it?"

"I um..." I lick my lips, and to buy myself a few seconds, I unwind the scarf from around my shoulders. The warmth inside the BMW is quite sufficient. "I'm learning a lot."

"Because you want to be a Vet tech, right?"

I nod, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

"Why not an actual Veterinarian?"

"I..." I lick my lips, trying to get moisture back into my mouth.

"I've looked into you, you know."

"You... you have!?"

Susan nods. "As a precaution."

"You know, I'm getting really tired of having very legitimate reasons to be mad at the two of you."

"It's interesting," Susan said, shifting in her seat. "I mean, your grades are easily good enough, and you strike me as a very intelligent, perceptive, and resourceful young woman."