Nothing but a Fling: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

***

Megan felt her jaw clench when she saw Cindy’s car parked on the curb in front of the condo. Megan pulled into her driveway but didn’t open the garage. Cindy got out of her car the same time Megan got out of hers.

Cindy’s hair was shorter, Megan noticed right away. And she’d had gold highlights added. Oddly, she was dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt from her alma mater that Megan recognized as being one of Cindy’s favorites. But these were the kind of comfort clothes Cindy never wore out of the house.

Cindy stood in front of her car, staring at Megan, twisting her hands together like she did whenever she was nervous.

Megan just stared back at her realizing her clenched jaw was starting to give her a headache.

Eventually, Cindy gave a little wave.

“Hey,” she said tentatively.

“Why are you here?” Megan asked, proud there was steel in her voice even though the truth of the matter was that seeing Cindy was like a hammer blow to her heart.

“Can we go inside and talk?”

Megan shook her head.

“No. Out here is fine, Cindy.”

Cindy hung her head, biting her lip, her hand-twisting intensifying. When she looked up again, Megan was shocked to notice evidence that Cindy had been crying.

Megan’s eyes softened and she dropped her armor.

“What’s wrong?”

Cindy took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone or in a text.” She took another deep breath. “Mom’s dead.”

Megan gasped, her hands flying to her face. “Oh my God, no!” Without even thinking, she hurried to Cindy and pulled her into an embrace as her own tears started to fall. “Oh my God; I’m so sorry.”

Cindy was nothing but sobs in Megan’s arms and Megan rocked her gently while they stood there in the driveway. “Mom” was technically Cindy’s Aunt Carole, but she was the woman who had raised Cindy when Cindy’s parents died when she was four.

Megan knew that when Cindy had decided to finally identify as lesbian, Carole surprised her by being one-hundred percent supportive. She even went so far as to start displaying a rainbow flag in the front window of her house in Duluth.

Megan had come to know and love the woman also because Carole decided to retire to California, settling in a modest bungalow in Coachella. Visits with Carole were one of the most favorite things Megan enjoyed about being with Cindy, especially because the older woman deemed herself “Megan’s Second Mom” the very first day Cindy brought Megan to meet her. It was such a touching gesture, with added meaning for Megan. She wasn’t out to her own parents yet and so Carole’s unconditional acceptance of Megan’s relationship with her niece/adopted daughter, accompanied with motherly affection, was something Megan valued so much during the years she and Cindy were together.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Megan whispered. Keeping her arm around Cindy’s shoulders, Megan guided her into the condo. She sat Cindy down on the loveseat in the living room, told her she’d be right back and then went into the kitchen to start nuking water for tea. While the microwave did its thing, Megan thought of Carole, knowing she’d never see that wonderful woman again, and found herself wiping tears away with a napkin. In a couple of minutes, she returned to Cindy bearing a steaming mug of Earl Grey. Immediately, Megan was struck by how small Cindy seemed. The death of the woman who had taken her in at four-years-old and then became her mother had obviously taken a horrendous toll on her. Handing the tea to Cindy, Megan then sat next to her on the loveseat, putting her arm around Cindy’s shoulders and pulling the other woman closer so Cindy could nestle her head against Megan’s neck.

After a couple of sips of tea, Cindy revealed all.

It was cancer. And it had moved quickly, lethally. Even the doctors had seemed surprised.

“She died Tuesday,” Cindy said. “I just got back from Coachella today but I need to go back to continue making arrangements. I just needed to come home and pack some more things. And then I thought I’d better stop and tell you. I know you hate me but it felt right to come tell you in person.”

“Shh,” Megan cooed. “Don’t go down that path. I loved Carole, you know that, and you did the right thing coming here.”

“Thank you. She loved you too, so much. She thought I was the biggest idiot for...Never mind.” And Cindy started sobbing again.

For a good twenty minutes, Megan just let Cindy cry, stroking her hair and wondering at the Twilight Zone-esque quality of having Cindy Lawler, the woman she had wanted to marry and whom she had spent pretty much all this year so far hating, in her arms again. It would have taken a death to make this happen, she realized. But why did it have to be Carole?

“When is the funeral?” Megan eventually asked when Cindy seemed to have calmed down enough to perhaps speak normally.

“A week from today.”

“In Minnesota?”

“No, in Coachella. Turns out Mom wanted to be buried there.” She gave a dry little laugh. “I think she just didn’t want to spend eternity in the frozen ground of Minnesota. Can’t say I blame her.”