“Sure,” Leigh said. “I mean, when did you know you were curious about boys?”
Gwen remembered back to second grade, when a boy from Calgary transferred to her school midyear. He was placed not only in her class, but in the seat next to hers. His name was Alex, and he had a buzz cut and a dimple on one side when he smiled. She liked how he pronouncedaboutlikea boat. On his second day sitting next to her, she wore her favorite underwear, the pink ones with the lace trim and the Strawberry Shortcake decal. She unfolded the waistband of her skirt just so, hoping he would see the lace trim. It was such a strange thing to do for an eight-year-old. Where had she learned this seduction? She couldn’t even remember if he noticed, if he said anything to her. The point was not to get a reaction from him; the point was to see herself in a new way.
“Elementary school,” Gwen said.
“Right. See?”
“Some women are ... late bloomers, though, right? Like, they realize in their forties that they’re bi or whatever?”
Leigh shrugged. “Sure. Happens all the time. Though I have to think there were inklings all along and that shit just gets repressed. We all want to be normal, whatever the hell that means.”
Gwen had thought she knew what it meant. She’d thought her life was deliciously normal. She had the career she’d planned to have, a husband who was decent by anyone’s standards, and now June. She was the American dream personified, and she was more lost than she’d ever been. What could she chalk it up to? Postpartum depression? PTSDfrom her medical mishaps? A more generalized existential crisis? Just thinking about these possibilities, how it was likely a combination of all of them, she started to cry.
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Leigh said, sliding over a few inches on the couch, putting her hand on Gwen’s arm.
“I don’t know. I just feel so ...” She started to get choked up and wasn’t sure she had the words to finish her thought. She eked out two words: “Not me.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” Leigh said.
Had she? Gwen wasn’t sure. She kept telling herself she was fine. Didn’t other mothers deal with these types of things all the time? C-sections, mastitis—these were par for the course. What was wrong with her? She was used to seeing herself the way her employer saw her. Her annual reviews always included cliché phrases like “rises to the occasion” and “ducks in a row” and “tough as nails” and “doesn’t take things lying down.” This woman she’d become was an easy crier, a hot mess.
“You have,” Leigh said, somehow knowing that Gwen needed this validation, this reassurance. “You’ve been through a lot.”
Leigh took June from Gwen’s lap and set her on the floor mat with Belle. Then she inched closer again to Gwen, their thighs touching. Leigh reached a hand around to Gwen’s cheek, gently pulled Gwen’s head to rest on her shoulder.
“Why am I always crying around you?” Gwen said, embarrassed.
“It’s okay,” Leigh said. “Let yourself cry.”
And Gwen did. She cried there on Leigh’s shoulder, her tears dampening Leigh’s blouse. Leigh remained very still, not shifting in her seat at all. If Gwen cried on Jeff’s shoulder, he wouldn’t be able to just sit there. He would have to try to talk her out of her tears. He would shift in his seat, clear his throat, say he had to go to the bathroom. Gwen’s discomfort pained him. And the fact of that pained her.
Gwen’s breakdown was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Before Gwen could lift her head from Leigh’s shoulder, Nathan was coming into the room, looking surprised to see them.
“Uh, hi,” he said, announcing his presence.
Gwen sat up straight and used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her eyes. Leigh stood to greet her husband.
“I’m sorry, I’m having a new-mom meltdown,” Gwen said by way of explanation, wanting to ease Nathan’s mind of any anxieties.
The skepticism was obvious on his face as he looked at Gwen, then back at his wife.
“Meeting got canceled so figured I’d come by, see if you and Belle wanted to head to the sandwich shop.”
“Let’s all go! We can eat at the park! A little outing!” Leigh said. “What do you think, Gwennie?”
Gwennie.Leigh had never called her that before. The existence of this new nickname felt like a special kind of intimacy.
Gwen, sensing Nathan’s uneasiness, said, “Oh, I don’t have to—”
“Enough,” Leigh said. “We’re going.”
Nathan went to get the sandwiches while Gwen and Leigh took the babies to the park. Neither of them had a picnic blanket, but they had a plethora of swaddling blankets that they laid together to make a patchwork quilt. The babies seemed enthralled with their new surroundings, grabbing at the blades of grass, eyes squinting in the sunlight.
“It’s nice to get out,” Leigh said, tilting her head up toward the sky.
Gwen had to admit that, yes, it was nice to get out. It was the type of thing Jeff was always suggesting she do.
“I can’t wait for Belle to be old enough to use the playground by herself,” Leigh said. “Can you even imagine? We could bring a game of fucking Scrabble and drink a bottle of wine while they do the monkey bars.”
