A Matter of Trust: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

“Why, thank you, Miss Marchand.”

“Seriously, they’d be so stupid not to give you the position.”

Morgan shook her head.

“The interview was a courtesy,” she told her girlfriend.

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” Chloë asked.

Morgan nodded, feeling a little sad at the realization that, yes, she actually did believe it. Not that she wasn’t grateful. Earlier, once the interview had ended, she really had been appreciative of the chance to hone her communication skills while being interrogated by a panel of professionals. All in all, she thought she had done rather well.

“Look,” she said, “the board must have interviewed some pretty well-qualified candidates to fill this role. Besides, you know what Barrington Hills is like; you went there. You step on the campus and it’s like you’re in the School that Time Forgot. The last thing Dr. Kenworthy and the board of directors is going to do is hire me with my deranged ideas of teaching books from Australia.”

Chloë looked at her sternly.

“I don’t like hearing you be so…defeatist.”

Morgan sighed. Of course, Chloë, with her eternally optimistic worldview, helped by her youth, would have trouble seeing things from Morgan’s perspective. She thought about just changing the topic but decided, no; if Chloë and her were going to be together, Chloë needed to understand a few things.

“I’m not being defeatist,” she said. “I can recognize that, okay, maybe there is a chance I will get the head position. But unlike you, I have the benefit of having been around longer and therefore I know that I can’t be foolishly optimistic about everything.”

“Okay, but don’t you think that being negative about it is only putting bad energy out there—”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Chloë!” Morgan interrupted. Was she really dating someone this…young? “Bad energy? You think that’s what is going to doom my chances at this job? Let me clue you in on what it’s like to not be twenty-four-years-old anymore. When you’re not twenty-four-years-old anymore you realize that concepts like bad energy are bullshit. And I don’t appreciate you diminishing my very valid reasoning for believing I have a less than average shot at getting this job.”

“How was I—”

“By chastising me about hocus-pocus, mumbo-jumbo bad energy crap. I’m trying to talk to you as one grown woman to another and as a grown woman, you should know that me not getting the head position will come down to things like me having less experience and fewer qualifications. But if you’re going to spout off about mystical, quasi-religious ‘bad energy’ dogma, then maybe we should talk about something else.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

The two women sat there in silence for several minutes, each facing forward on the sofa, drinking their wine, as if they were strangers at a party who had no interest in meeting one another.

Finally, Morgan said, “I’m sorry I got hostile there. Maybe I had more pent-up stress from the interview than I realized.”

“No, I’m sorry if I made you feel like I wasn’t really listening to you,” Chloë replied. “I do understand why you feel like you may not get the job. I was just trying to…I don’t know, make you feel just a little optimistic, I guess.”

Morgan repositioned herself, curling one leg under her and facing Chloë.

“And that is so super sweet,” she said, playing with the little curls at the nape of Chloë’s neck. “And I’m sorry I reacted badly. Forgive me?”

Chloë looked at her, her face with those large eyes full of youth and openness and understanding. Morgan wondered if she herself ever looked like that anymore.

“Dude, there’s nothing to forgive! It wasn’t even like that was a real argument.”

Morgan laughed.

“I guess you’re right, but I reacted poorly. Anyway, listen, Miss I-Like-Dating-Older-Women; this is what happens when a woman—or anyone for that matter—gets older. The veil comes off and your expectations about life become more realistic. I mean, I want to be more optimistic about this job but at my age it’s nearly impossible not to see the barriers to it.”

“I get that,” Chloë replied. “That’s what makes us the perfect couple.”

Morgan’s heart went boom!, liking the sound of Chloë calling them the perfect couple.

“How so?”

“Because I can bring a little optimism to your life when needed while you can help keep me grounded in reality when needed. It’s perfect!”