Marriage of Unconvenience

“True enough,” I said.

WE GOT BACK TO MY PARENT’S just in time for another lavish dinner.

“Dad, you really don’t have to keep doing this,” I said, as I loaded up on veggie and steak skewers cooked on the grill outside.

“It’s nice to have more than one person to cook for. Well, two people, if I include myself,” he said, wielding a spatula as if it was a sword. He was also wearing a ridiculous apron that had a crown on it and the words KING OF THE GRILL. My mom had gotten it for his birthday, along with the grill. If anyone else were here, I would have begged him to take it off.

“It’s so nice having you girls here. Sometimes I wish you would both move back and stay with us, but I know that’s not realistic. You’re both adults, out on your own, doing your own thing. We just get lonely here sometimes.” Ah, it was time for the Mom Guilt Trip. I had been waiting for this. Usually she did it on the first day and not the second. We were leaving tomorrow afternoon, so she had to get it in when she could.

“We’ll visit more,” Cara said, cutting of whatever I might have been about to say. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it under the table.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. We’re not completely helpless without you. We have lives. I just like to see both of you so happy. Gives me hope for the future of the world.” I shared a glance with Cara. Mom was really laying it on thick.

“We miss you too,” I said, and Cara gave me a nod of approval.

“You’re so sweet,” Mom said, coming over and kissing me and Cara on the top of our heads. No matter how old we got, we would always be little girls to her. I guess it could be a whole lot worse.

“Dig in,” Dad said, setting down his spatula. Finally.

“WE SHOULD TELL THEM,” Cara said that night as we lay in bed together, our noses almost touching. We hadn’t done much of anything beyond a few kisses since last night, and I didn’t know if anything was going to happen tonight. Not that I would mind having another middle-of-the-night make-out session with Cara. That was the best possible way to spend my time. Who needed sleep? Kissing took priority.

“My parents?”

“Yeah. Before we leave.”

“Do we have to? I really don’t want to get into it with them and have to field questions. If you want to come out to them, I’ll totally support you. They were great when I came out, so I’m pretty sure my mom would throw you another party complete with a parade.”

“Yeah, she might. I don’t know, I just think we should maybe do it all at once? Like a Band-Aid. Rip it right off.” I gave her a look.

“Do you really think they would let us leave without making it into a whole huge thing that involved lots of crying and hugging and carrying on? I’m still coming to terms with all that’s happened. Can we wait?” She thought about it for a few seconds.

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t push so hard. They might feel like my parents, but they are your parents and I wouldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to.” I knew that, which was one of the reasons why we clicked so well together. Mutual respect.

“Thanks. I promise we will tell them at some point. Let’s just figure out what the fuck we’re actually doing first. This is new territory for both of us. I haven’t dated in a while and you haven’t dated girls, oh, and we’re already married. It’s not like there are tons of other people in our situation that we can ask for advice from.” She reached out and played with some of my hair.

“Isn’t that the truth.”

We stared at each other for a little while.

“This is so bizarre. I never thought, in a million years, that we would end up together. I put you in the ‘friend’ box and never even considered you as romance material. But so many things that I thought were ‘best friend’ things were actually romantic feelings that I told myself weren’t. Dating girls is confusing as fuck,” I said.

“Are you kidding me? Why do you think I’ve been tied up in knots for months? I couldn’t separate friend feelings from romantic and other feelings. I kept asking myself ‘do I feel this close to her because she’s my best friend? Or is it something else?’”