From the Hat Down, page 3
“Whyever would we do that?” He chuckled and she pictured him again, pulling on his Wyatt Earp mustache, gray eyes twinkling.
“Ah, hell,” she relented. “I can’t do that to him. Her, yes. Him, no. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. I’ll call her tonight.”
“Probably a good idea.” He paused. “How are you?”
A leading question. Meg took the opportunity. “So-so. Work’s good.” she picked at her jeans some more. “Kate came by yesterday to get the rest of her stuff.” She said it in a rush, before she could talk herself out of it.
He made a sound that Meg knew would be accompanied with a “well, shit” head motion. “I’m sorry, hon. That’s rough. How’d it go?”
“As well as can be expected. It wasn’t ugly. Just sad. I feel bad about it, though.”
“You’ll get through it. And maybe you’ll know what works next time around.”
“That’d be nice. I’m not doing too well in the relationship department,” she said wryly. “Anyway,” she continued, releasing him from more deep and meaningful conversation, “I have to get some stuff done. I’ll call Mom later on today. I won’t forget.” She opened the driver’s side door. “Hell, I can’t, now.”
“Let me know if you actually manage to change her mind,” he said and she could hear the grin in his voice.
“Yeah. Wish me luck.” She took the keys out of the ignition. “Thanks, Dad.”
He hesitated before answering. “I worry sometimes. That’s all. Talk to you later. Love you.” And he hung up before she could respond in kind.
“Love you too,” she said to the phone as she pressed “end.” She put it into her belt holder and got out of the truck. She’d get things squared away here, check the schedule for the next morning, and hopefully she’d be home by six. She’d call her mom from there since it promised to be a conversation that would require a beer afterward. Plus, Sean was coming by, and that would help with the mood she knew she’d be in once the conversation ended. She locked up and went inside.
Irene Bard-formerly-Tallmadge answered on the third ring. Meg was secretly disappointed, preferring to communicate with her mother through voicemail. On the other hand, she needed to head her off at the pass with this whole birthday scenario. She settled onto the couch with a glass of iced tea, since she was, unfortunately, out of beer.
“Hi, Mom. It’s me.”
That was the launching point for her mother’s long-winded, often overdone Kentucky-accented and half-hearted remonstrations about how Meg never called her, never returned her calls, and what was wrong, didn’t she have any time for her mother now that she was a full-fledged veterinarian?
Fortunately, Irene was predictable and after she finished with her signature breathy sigh that served as punctuation in her run-on conversations, Meg got to the point. “Dad tells me you want to visit for my birthday.”
“Honey, I never get to see you. . .” since you’re so busy working and helping your father with the ranch and surely you could find it in your heart to come to Lexington some time but if you can’t, this seems the only way I’ll get to see you. . .breathy sigh.
“Mom, you’re welcome to visit, but only if it’s because you want to see me.”
“And just what do you mean by that?” She tried to sound indignant.
“Just you.”
“Oh, honey. . .” She trailed off into a tense pause.
Bingo. Busted. “Dad mentioned you might not be flying in alone.”
“Sweetie,” Irene continued, “Phil’s the son of one of Ed’s business partners. He’s never been to Wyoming. It’ll be fun.”
At least she wasn’t denying it. “Mom, I don’t know this guy and I think it’s kind of weird to bring him out here on my birthday. If Phil wants to see Wyoming, he can do it on his own time.”
“Why, Meg Tallmadge. That is the rudest thing I think I’ve ever heard you say to me.”
Meg could almost hear her huff. She struggled to remain patient. “No, actually, it’s rude to bring a complete stranger fifteen hundred miles to your daughter’s birthday, who you haven’t seen for—as you put it—‘a good long while’.”
Pause. Sigh. “Well, I just thought it would be a nice thing to do, since he had some time off and I thought maybe you could take him horseback riding and show him around.”
Right, she thought sarcastically. Because there aren’t any horses in Kentucky. She rubbed her forehead with her free hand. “I’m thinking you’re basically trying to set me up with this guy.”
Irene clicked her tongue against her teeth in irritation. That was her way of stalling.
“Okay. Let’s go through this again,” Meg said, keeping her voice calm. “I’m sure this Phil is probably an okay guy—”
“Oh, he is, honey. He’s a total gentleman. And good-looking.”
Meg gritted her teeth. “And I’m sure he’ll make some straight woman happy. That woman isn’t me. I’m not going to hook up with him. Not now. Not ever. So please save yourself some time, money, and embarrassment and cancel that part of your plan.” She felt a headache coming on. She got up and padded on her bare feet down the short hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. Her phone beeped to let her know another call was trying to come through. She ignored it.
“Why can’t you just give him a chance?” Irene’s frustration was palpable.
She opened the medicine cabinet and braced the phone against her ear with her shoulder so she could open the bottle of Tylenol. She shook two out and carried them back to the living room. She put the tablets in her mouth and washed them down with iced tea. “Because, Mom, I’m gay.” How many fucking times do I have to say that to you?
Long pause. Very heavy sigh. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.”
She suppressed an urge to scream. “And I wish you’d quit trying to set me up with every man you see.” She paced from the couch to the door and back again.
“You can get help, honey. I wish you would. I’d pay for it. Ed and I.”
“Don’t go there, Mom. I’m not the one with the problem.”
“Ed knows someone here who can help. And I’m sure we can find someone there—”
“For the thousandth time, this is part of who I am. Why can’t you just let it go and let me be who I am?” She heard her voice rising and she fought to keep her tone level.
“Meg, please. We can help.”
“Stop. Just stop. I’m going to be thirty-five next week. For Chrissakes. I’m not going to end up with a man this time around. That’s just how it is. I like how I am. I like my life. So please just leave Phil in Lexington or wherever the hell he is and spare him the stupidity of trying to turn me straight.” She ran a hand through her hair, pissed that the conversation had taken this turn and pissed that she had reacted the way she had. She stared out the screen door at the elms that lined the street, as if she’d get some sympathy from them.
“Are you through?” Disappointment hardened the edges of Irene’s voice.
“For now. Will you leave Phil in Lexington?”
“It’s not that simple,” she said, distant.
“Why not?”
“I’ve already bought the tickets and you know how it is trying to get from here to Cheyenne. They’re not exactly refundable.”
Meg forced herself to relax, remembering the earlier conversation with her dad. This was like a really bad movie. But kind of funny. In a messed-up way. “Okay, look. Whatever. It’s your money. If you want to spend it that way, fine. But it’s my birthday. I didn’t ask Phil to come along. You did. So he’s your responsibility.” She knew Irene wouldn’t register that last part but it didn’t matter because she had voiced it and she intended to stick by it.
“I knew you’d see it my way. It’ll be fun. You’ll see. The flight gets in Friday at six.”
Meg shook her head at the depths of her mother’s denial. “So I guess you already checked with Dad about rooms. You know the DR is busy, especially this time of year.”
“I do check in now and again,” she said, somewhat defensively.
“I’ll probably have to help out,” Meg continued, purposely trying to put her off.
“I’m sure you’ll have some time out of your busy day to visit.” Irene didn’t take the bait. “It’ll be so good to see you, sweetie. If anything changes I’ll let you know. Bye, now.” The line went dead.
Meg groaned and tossed her phone onto the couch. It bounced once before coming to rest in the far corner where the armrest met the back. “Fuck,” she muttered. It could be worse, though. Irene might not have left when Meg was sixteen. It was bad enough trying to deal with her long-distance. She exhaled slowly and went into the kitchen, which still retained some elements of its 1940s-era heritage. The landlord had upgraded two years ago with a new sink, countertops, and appliances, much to Meg’s delight. She rummaged in the refrigerator, wondering what she could throw together for dinner when she heard footsteps on her porch. Sean. Thank God.
“Hey! Doctor Horse Chick!”
Meg poked her head out of the kitchen and grinned. “Hey yourself. C’mon in.”
Sean pulled the door open and entered, triumphantly brandishing a six-pack of Shiner Bock. She beamed, her tousled light brown hair bouncing around her ears as she handed the beer to Meg and gave her a quick hug. “I tried to call you a few minutes ago but you didn’t answer.”
“You’re a goddess,” Meg said, laughing as she held the beer. “How’d you know?”
“Know what?” Sean asked. She kicked her sandals off and flounced onto the couch, reaching behind herself to pull Meg’s phone out from the small of her back. She positioned herself cross-legged on the cushion, arranging her long red hippie-girl skirt so she could place Meg’s phone on it and she tossed a set of keys onto the coffee table.
“That I’d need a beer after talking to my mom.”
Sean rolled her eyes. “How is Irene these days?”
“The same. And worse. Hold on.” She took the beer into the kitchen and removed bottles for the two of them before putting the rest in the fridge. She opened both then joined Sean in the living room. She handed her a beer before she flopped down on the opposite end of the couch. “So how’d the lecture go? Did you impart the entire universe of holistic approaches to animal healthcare effectively in your ninety-minute time slot? And did you play some reggae?”
“Of course, mon,” Sean said in a bad Jamaican accent. She took a sip of beer before continuing. “It went well. Had some good questions from the students. Some still think it’s woo-woo stuff, but at least they were polite about it.” She glanced around the room and her gaze lingered on the wall near the door. “So Kate’s been by.”
Meg shrugged. “Yesterday. I didn’t feel like talking to anybody afterward and I knew I’d see you today.”
Sean looked at her, measuring. “How’d it go?”
She paused before answering. “As well as can be expected. We were civil, respectful, and quick.”
“Damn. What kind of lesbians are you? Isn’t a breakup supposed to take years? And then you have to sleep together at least three times and have a bunch of mini breakups? And then don’t you have to be best friends after you break up for the thirty-second time?”
Meg laughed. “I don’t see that happening. Kate’s pretty over me.”
“Nobody gets over you,” Sean said thoughtfully. “They just get frustrated.” She reached over and squeezed Meg’s knee. “Nice surfer shorts,” she raised her eyebrows up and down suggestively.
Meg took a swallow of beer before responding. “Care to elaborate, Doctor Miller? Frustrated?”
Sean sighed with exaggerated patience. “Hon, we’ve been through this before. But I’ll tell you again because you clearly need a reminder. I love you like a sister and I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for your friends and for your dad. But girl, you can be ultra hard to reach. Even when you’re in the same room with someone.” She settled back into the couch, pointing the neck of the beer bottle at Meg, one eyebrow arched. She looked like a pixie, with her upturned nose and her blue eyes that either sparkled with mischief, twinkled with humor, or glinted with a “don’t mess with me” light.
Meg traced a circle with her fingertip on the arm of the couch. Her mom had said the same thing about her dad and that’s why Irene left the Diamond Rock Ranch all those years ago. Gina had said that to her, too. Eight years ago last fall. “What do you mean, exactly?” She took a sip of beer, and it was bittersweet with memories.
Sean sighed, but not without affection. “You’re totally loyal to your posse. But nobody really knows who the hell you are. You don’t let people in. Especially the people who really should be getting in. The ones who love you and want to be in your life for more than a beer and barbecue.”
She started to say something but Sean interrupted.
“I’m not saying it would’ve worked between you and Kate. You two were different on some pretty fundamental levels, but maybe had you let her in a bit, it could have.”
“I so love your visits. I feel much better now,” Meg teased. But she knew Sean was right. What she didn’t know was what, if anything, to do about it.
“That’s why you have me. Reality check.”
“Yeah, well, my reality is a little bit on the sucky side right now. How’s Ted?”
Sean air-kissed her. “Nice segue. Not gonna work. But I will tell you he’s fine and he wants me to tell you that you need to open up to your next dance partner.”
She smiled. “He’s optimistic, isn’t he?”
Sean giggled. “Whatever. You’re a fine-lookin’ woman and a good catch. They’re taking a number and lining up.”
She laughed. “Uh, Sean? This is Laramie. Wyoming. I’m probably the only lesbian in a three-hundred-mile radius.”
“No, there’s one in Cheyenne.” Sean pretended to think. “Oh, wait. I heard she hooked up. But Fort Collins is way within that radius. So is Denver.” She handed Meg’s phone to her.
“Excluding Colorado,” she retorted, grinning. She took another drink.
“Well, okay. But there might still be one in Cody.” She waggled her eyebrows and smiled.
“Well, I’m busy. The last thing I need right now is another woman trying to figure me out.” She put her phone on the coffee table.
“Holy Mary Mother of God,” Sean blurted. “Would you listen to yourself? So Kate realized she didn’t have the key to your heart. And so did you. Yeah, it’s sad. Yeah, it’s a bummer. But you both handled it maturely and though shitty, the breakup didn’t devastate either of you.” She emphasized her words with her bottle. “You just haven’t met the woman who’s got the key. Wait—amend that. Nobody really knows what kind of lock you’ve got on your heart. So if you want someone to test out a key, you’re gonna have to show her what you’ve got.” Her free hand punctuated her statement with emphatic gestures.
“I think real life might be a bit more complicated.”
“Whatever,” Sean said in the long-suffering tone she used with Meg to make a point. She put her hand up in her “talk to the hand” motion. “Only because you make it that way. The right person—the right fit—is never complicated. You just know. And it makes total, perfect sense and it blows your mind with the utter simplicity of it all.”
Meg leaned back into the couch. “Okay, Doctor Miller. Is that how it is for you and Ted?”
“Yes, actually.” Her voice was serious but a soft expression crossed her face. “We both just know we’re supposed to be together. Sure, we have our issues. And we have to work our asses off on stuff. But that’s part of the knowing thing.”
“So was it love at first sight?” She braced the beer bottle on her thigh. Sean’s facial expressions and eyes were so eloquent that she didn’t need to use words. Meg had seen her silence a crowd of drunk frat boys at a restaurant with a single icy glare.
She smiled at Meg. “Of course. In a pragmatic sense.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It’s not always rainbows and dancing unicorns or fireworks. It’s not like a bell goes off somewhere and a voice says ‘there’s the one, grab on.’ But I do think there can be instantaneous connections, and I do think those can be powerful.”
Meg studied the label on her beer bottle, remembering a day ten years ago this month, in a parking lot outside Saratoga feed, and a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman working on a flat tire. “So what’s the deal with a connection like that?” she asked, thoughts of Gina’s eyes feeding sadness but igniting other memories.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, is that love? Or is it just some kind of weird atmospheric convergence?”
Sean laughed. “It’s whatever you want it to be. Think about it. Attraction happens all the damn time. You see somebody you’ve never met but you feel drawn to him or her. Or you do meet somebody and there’s some kind of weird spark in the air and you don’t know what it’s about or where it comes from. If you follow up on it, sometimes it’s just a wild, passionate affair that lasts a few days. Maybe even a few weeks or months. And then it fizzles, but you remember that connection, and how it made you feel. Other times, the connection remains, even if the people move on. It goes dormant or something.”
“I love how you combine new age with your brand of physics.” Meg took a swallow of beer. “You’ve never told me whether you and Ted are a love at first sight kind of couple.” She gave her a sidewise glance.
“It wasn’t quite like that for me and Ted, but it was pretty damn close. We liked each other right off and we felt totally comfortable around each other but turned on, too.” She stopped, thinking. When she looked up at Meg, her eyes held a mischievous twinkle. “I know this couple,” she started.
Meg groaned. “Oh, come on. Are you going to tell me a sappy love story?”
“I might, if you’d shut up. And it’s a totally cute story.”
“You say that about most of the stories you tell me.”
“Trust me.”
“Yeah, look where that’s gotten me.”
“Free beer,” Sean shot back. “Hello! Now listen up.”
