Andy's Song Read online

  I’m an only kid. I’m pretty sure I was a mistake. My mother wouldn’t have considered abortion, but I never understood why she didn’t put me up for adoption. I grew up in a posh house around the corner from Davey’s grandparent’s posh house. The difference was that while we were kids, Davey’s house always had toys and books and bicycles and the regular detritus of childhood, while my house looked like a mausoleum which a child would only approach on tiptoe, whispering and trying to not touch anything. That describes my relationship with my parents as well. I had a few different nannies, but none that made a lasting impact on me. I have a vague memory of the hint of a scandal with one of the nannies and my father, but it is only a faint impression and I could be wrong. All of the good memories of my childhood started with Davey.

  Picture this. I was walking down the street when I was accosted by two huge seven-year-old girls. I was a pretty big kid, but these girls were huge and scary. They positioned themselves on either side of me and glared at me.

  “Are you a boy or a girl?”

  “I’m a girl.”

  “You look like a boy.”

  “I can’t help the way I look.” In my seven-year-old world, that made perfect logical sense. Even then, I had a pretty Zen outlook on life.

  One of the behemoths sneered at me. “We don’t like you.”

  “I don’t like you, either.” Again, perfect logic. We didn’t have to like each other. I was used to kids not liking me. I was good at sports and I liked to play outside. I was generally dirty and my clothes, though hand-picked by my mother’s personal shopper and probably ridiculously expensive, were often ripped or stained. Boys liked me way better than girls at that age. They hadn’t yet realized that we were supposed to be different, so they played games with me. All that mattered to them was that I played to win.

  Girl Two spoke up. “My mom says your parents let you run wild.”

  I shrugged.

  Girl One sneered again. “You have ugly hair.”

  I shrugged again. She was right on that one. For some reason, I had decided to take the scissors to my own head a couple of days before and left my hair in a kind of scraggly half bowl-cut, half mullet style. My mother, who barely noticed my existence most days, went into a screaming panic when she saw me. She immediately rushed me to her hairdresser, who tried her best to even it out. As a result, it looked kind of like a strange, lopsided page boy. I didn’t much care. I tended to throw on a baseball cap as soon as I got out of my parent’s house anyway.

  Girl One picked up a clump of grass and dirt from the treed lawn and tossed it at me. “Get out of our yard.”

  I leaned casually back against a tree. At age seven, I had already learned the crucial art of not showing fear or concern. “Not in your yard.”

  Girl Two started gathering acorns and branches and throwing them in my direction. I was debating whether to charge one of them or take off running when a wild-eyed, chubby little girl came screeching up on her little pink bike. She jumped off it, looked around for something to throw and not finding anything, grabbed her bike and threw it at my tormentors.

  Girl One shrieked, grabbed Girl Two’s hand, and the two of them took off toward the backyard, screaming about the crazy girl. I checked out the new arrival with interest.

  “I’m Davey,” she said, smoothing back her huge mane of hair with one hand.

  I walked over and picked up her bike, automatically checking it for dents.

  “I’m Andrea.” I paused. “I’m usually called Andy.”

  That was a lie. I had wanted to be called Andy for years, but my mother refused to comply. My father didn’t speak to me enough for it to matter. And without any friends, I was sadly short of people to give me a nickname. Davey seemed to take me at face value, though.

  “Okay, Andy. Do you want to be friends?”

  “I guess.”

  She grabbed my hand. “Let’s go to my house. You can meet my grandparents.”

  “Do you live with your grandparents?”

  “Yep, and sometimes my mom.”

  “Do you have a dad?”

  “No. Just Gram and Gramps. My mom is in Georgia right now, learning to play the guitar.”

  “She can’t play guitar here?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe Gram doesn’t like too much noise.”

  It made sense to me. My parents got irritated if I made so much as a peep. I nodded.

  “Sure. We can go to your house.”

  Davey smiled and I felt a sense of coming home. I had finally found a friend.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Davey is whispering in my ear.

  “I was thinking about when we met.”

  She laughs, leaning back in my arms to smile up at me. “You had no choice but to be my friend.”

  “I didn’t want anything else.”

  “We’ve always been together, Andy.”

  We’re interrupted by Leah and Erik.

  “You two have been monopolizing each other all night,” Leah chirps. “Share your gorgeousness with other people for a while.”

  Leah takes my arm as Davey dances off with Erik. I look down at her as we start to dance. She’s about the same height as Davey—and about thirty pounds heavier. She’s beautiful at fifty-six. If this is what Davey is going to look like in sixteen years, I won’t be disappointed. Leah is staring at me intently.

  “Well?”

  “Andy, you know I love you like my own child.”

  “Leah,” I grin. “Is this the same talk we had when I was in college?”

  She nods, smiling. “You’re a lot older now, but I don’t know about wiser.”

  I laugh. “Leah, I am older and wiser, but I have never stopped loving Davey.”

  “And she loves you. With all of her heart. But not, I fear, the way you want.”

  “Leah, does that matter?”

  “It might not matter at this moment, but it will.”

  “Leah, we’re forty. We’ve both been through the relationship game. We’re done dating. We just want to settle down.”

  “Andy, you’re speaking for yourself. You want to settle down with Davey because you almost lost her and you don’t want to risk it happening again.”

  “Leah, she wants to be with me.”

  “Davey is in love with Danny.”

  I look away, disturbed. Leah sings along with the music for a while, and we dance without talking. It’s true. She is in love with him. But she has made a choice to not be with him. That is her choice. She is choosing to be with me. I glance down at Leah.

  “She’s making a choice.”

  “She’s choosing to be gay?”

  “I don’t know. I guess.”

  “Andy, just stop and think. Yes, you have been in love with Davey forever, and yes, you would be an amazing partner for her. But do you really think that it would be the best thing for both of you?”

  “Leah, you’ve always wished for a lesbian daughter.” I’m trying to lighten the mood.

  “I already have one,” she replies. “You. I admit there were times that I wished you and Davey would just fall in love and be together, but in my heart, I know that it isn’t possible.”

  “Leah, we love each other. The only difference between best friend love and romantic love is behavior. If we decide we are partners or lovers or wives or whatever, we are.”

  Leah looks at me doubtfully. “Well, I love you both. I just want you to stop and think about this. Think about Danny.”

  “Think about how many times I have fallen,” I sing.

  “Crosby, Stills & Nash can’t help you now,” Leah laughs.

  Coming back to Leah’s question, I shake my head. “I have thought about Danny. He has nothing to do with this.”

  Leah stands on her tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek. “Danny has everything to do with this.”

  “I liked it better when you were giving me the safe sex talk.”

  “Lesbians need to practice safe sex, too.”

  Pulling her in
for a tight hug, I kiss the top of her head. “Leah, how did you get so wise?”

  “I’m not so wise. I’m just at peace with myself. That seems like wisdom to other people.”

  “It seems like wisdom to me.”

  “Maybe you should come to a meditation class with me.”

  “I’m not into that new age crap.”

  “Meditation is not new age, and at any rate, it isn’t crap. You have often asked me why I seem so peaceful and that’s one of the reasons. Don’t ask the question if you’re only going to scoff at the answer.”

  “I’m not scoffing. It’s just not my thing.”

  “Well, maybe you should take a yoga class. Or deep breathing exercises. Or a cleanse.” She looks at me archly. “Or celibacy.”

  She leaves me on the dance floor, and I randomly dance with other people, lost in thought. Leah pushes my buttons. She’s so strange in so many ways, but she does seem to have an inner glow. And she’s right about Danny, too. Danny does have everything to do with this, regardless of what I told Leah. I have spent years watching Davey date jackass men, and I never said a word about it. I’m not some simpering idiot who has sat around pining for my best friend throughout my entire life. I’ve dated many women—more than I can count. I play softball. I run. I work part time in a bookstore mainly for the love of the books, but also because it is a great place to pick up intelligent women. Not that I’m opposed to picking up a dumb but hot bar chick every once in a while, but I do enjoy a woman who can have an actual conversation. It isn’t as if I have been a lonely old dyke sitting alone in my little house. I do love Davey, but it hasn’t been to the exclusion of all others. I consider her my best friend and I consider myself her protector. I would kill for her. I would give just about anything I have to keep her happy and safe. We have always had a comfortable, warm, and loving relationship. It seems as if we have been married since we were teenagers, with the small exception that we have sex with other people and not each other. And that worked fine for me until Danny came along.

  Danny isn’t a jackass. He’s actually a cool, intelligent, charming man who treated Davey like gold while they were together. When Davey started dating him, I got the first stirrings of fear that things were going to change between us. If she fell in love with this guy and got married, we wouldn’t be having late night ice cream parties at my house. She wouldn’t be calling me whenever something broke in her apartment. I wouldn’t be able to randomly show up at her house at six in the morning and drag her out for a hike in the Metroparks.

  It doesn’t matter. Danny is no longer in the picture, but I am. Looking across the room, I smile at her. I start back toward our table, but detour over to the buffet table to fill up on appetizers. I stock up on chocolate and bring it to Davey.

  “My hero,” she says, fluttering her eyelashes at me.

  I grin and rub my hand across the back of her neck. Her hair is short and smoothed down tonight. I let my fingers play against the fine hairs behind her ears. Davey is chatting with Sarah and Lynne, but I’m not really paying attention. I pull Davey closer and she leans her head against my shoulder. I’m hyper-aware of the feel of her hair against my cheek. I’m making a conscious effort to control my breathing, but all I can think about now is getting her out of here and back to my house. Leah comes back to the table, and I offer to get some more hors d’oeuvres. Sarah and Lynne dance. We toast and drink champagne. My entire body is straining toward Davey. Every time she turns her head up to look at me, I can feel the pull in my gut. I want her more than I think I have ever wanted anyone. I can just see the curve of her breasts above the neckline of her dress and, in my mind, my lips are already tracing a path over them, tugging at the material to get more. My hands are already on her hips, crushing her against me.

  Davey presses her hand against my thigh. “Are you all right?”

  “Better than all right.”

  She laughs and rubs her hand over my shaved head. I lean into her hand. I’m barely aware of the people stopping at our table, until Davey stands up and embraces an older woman with dark hair. I stand up and Davey introduces her to the group. It’s Nancy Astor, the mother of the transgendered boy who killed himself a couple of months ago. Leah asks her to join our table, but she declines as she is about to make a speech.

  Davey’s boss, Ron, takes the stage and outlines the programs funded by the Care Center. Leah leans over me and stage whispers to Davey.

  “Maybe I should join a bisexual support group.”

  Davey shakes her head. “You aren’t bisexual.”

  “Just because I was bad at it the first time doesn’t mean I won’t try it again.”

  I’m trying to pay attention to Ron’s speech, but Leah kills me. Davey pokes me in the ribs as I let a small snort escape my clenched lips.

  “Leah,” I whisper. “Go for it. It might be a good place to meet women.”

  She grins back at me. “And men.”

  I put my arm around Davey and she leans against me as Nancy Astor takes the stage. Nancy is talking about how hard it was at first when her four-year-old daughter kept insisting that she was really a boy.

  I look over at Davey. She looks sad.

  “Are you all right.”

  She nods.

  Now Nancy is talking about how love has nothing to do with gender and everything to do with the qualities of the person you love. Shit. Davey looks stricken. She’s staring at Nancy with intensity, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. She’s thinking about Danny and how she left him when she found out that he had been born female, and now I can see the guilt and the agony as she wonders whether she was an idiot to let go of the man she loves just because he isn’t biologically male. My stomach has clenched into a hard knot of fear.

  Nancy is talking about all of the reasons that her daughter was a kind and loving person and why that meant that her son was now a kind and loving person, too. The audience is engrossed. Davey has tears in her eyes, and I want to throw something at the stage or fake a seizure or anything to prevent Nancy from continuing to speak, but it’s too late anyway. Davey turns to look at me and her face is full of pain.

  “Andy,” she whispers. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Danny’s face is in my mind. I’m thinking about the joy on his face when she walks into a room. I’m thinking about the way Davey sobbed after she broke up with him. It has suddenly occurred to me that I can’t hold her. I love her and I need her, but I can’t hold her. I don’t think I can speak, so I give her hand a squeeze and mouth “go.” She takes off running out of the ballroom. I stare down at the table, my heart crushed.

  Leah reaches over and takes my hand. It’s over just like that. And the stupid thing is that I know Davey is in love with Danny, but somehow I got it in my head that they would be better off apart. I mean, it’s been almost a month. I’ve never pined for someone for more than a month. If you break up with someone and a month goes by, it is so far beyond over, it’s like it never happened.

  Sarah pats me once on the shoulder, and then she and Lynne carefully look away, giving me space. I can feel eyes on me, as all of our friends and acquaintances talk among themselves about what just happened.

  “Andy, do you want to go?” Leah looks stricken, her face full of love and sympathy.

  “No. I’m fine. The speeches are almost over. I don’t want to leave before dinner.”

  I’m not giving anyone the satisfaction of watching me walk out of here in pain. I applaud politely after each speech, and I manage to somehow contribute to the conversation during dinner. Steve and Erik stop by our table as we eat, but Leah gives them both warning looks so they content themselves with patting me on the shoulder and making small talk about the food.

  After dinner, the dancing starts up again, and I cast my eyes around the crowd, looking for a likely partner. There’s a tall, thin redhead dancing right across from our table. She’s dancing with a big butch, but her eyes keep meeting mine. She’s swinging her hips and giving me a
little half smile. I imagine running my hands through her long, straight hair, then tangling my fingers in it and kissing her hard. I can feel faint stirrings of arousal. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone. Leah squeezes my hand as I stand up.

  “Andy, are you sure you want to do this?”

  “I’m just going to dance.”

  “Don’t forget you are my ride home.”

  “And ours,” Lynne chimes in.

  I’m unable to control the irritation in my voice. “Have I ever let any of you down for any reason?”

  Leah looks abashed. “Go dance then.”

  I cruise across the floor and cut in on the redhead and her partner. The partner gives me a dirty look, but since redhead isn’t resisting, she walks away without any trouble.

  “Is that your girlfriend?”

  Redhead shakes her head. “No, just someone I met here.”

  “Are you here with a date?”

  “I came with a few friends.”

  I swing her around and pull her in close. Her body is athletic and slender, but her breasts are nicely shaped and feel soft against mine. She’s strong, but not hugely muscled. She has a nice smile and she smells good. I can feel her hair swinging against my arm as I spin her around the dance floor. I decide to take her home.

  “I should introduce myself. I’m Andy.”

  “I know who you are. We’ve met before.”

  “We have?”

  “We went rock climbing.”

  “I’ve been a little distracted lately.”

  “We had sex.”

  “Ah.”

  Damn. This has happened before, but not recently. In my twenties, I was slutting around so much, I could barely remember any of them. But then, we were all so drunk and horny all of the time, it didn’t seem to matter. I pull redhead against me for a few minutes and dance without talking so I can try to get a handle on her. She does look familiar. I remember rock-climbing with her now. I think I remember that she was funny and smart. I’ve been so lost in this relationship with Davey and Danny that I haven’t paid attention to much else. Still, I’m pretty sure the rock-climbing date didn’t end with sex.