The cuddles lasted straight through ’til morning, and I woke up still wrapped up in Mitch’s arms. She was awake already, her fingers running up and down my skin under the covers.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
I grinned at her and stretched under the sheets. “Mmm, so comfy.” I pressed myself back against her. “Tired. Some chick wore me out last night.”
She tickled my side. “You loved it.”
I giggled. “Yeah. A little sore this morning though. It’s been awhile. A good sore, though.”
“You sure? Did I go too hard, or too long?”
“Oh, no such thing. It is weird though. I remember feeling like this, y’know, before, but this is different. This makes me happy.”
“Well, it’s partially because I’m amazing.” She was grinning that big Mitch grin, which made me laugh.
“You brat.”
She put her arms around me and settled back into her pillow. “Jimmy asked me one time if lesbians don’t like dick why do they like strap-ons.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, he was cruder about it, but yeah.”
“What’d you say?”
“I asked him if he liked getting blow jobs. When he said he did I asked if it mattered to him if the person giving him one was a guy or a girl. I mean, it would feel good either way.”
That made me laugh, but the implication wasn’t lost on me. Last night had proven there had never been anything wrong with me. I was just gay, and when my gorgeous butch girlfriend took me, I could enjoy it every bit as much as any straight girl could enjoy their boyfriend. Probably more, seeing how long it had lasted. And trying to replicate that feeling with any guy would, for me, be completely pointless.
***
As the semester really got going I just loved what was happening. Mitch and I would drive into campus every morning and head home after our evening workouts. Mitch would cook a few nights a week, and we ate dinner at our little table almost like grownups. I helped when I could, but Mitch seemed determined to win my heart through my stomach.
I didn’t have any desire to tell her the deed was already done. I can’t tell you how many fantasies I had that this was my life, that we had graduated, and were adults working, married to each other. That I was going to have Mitch by my side, holding me every night, loving me every day, for the rest of my life. The very thought would bring a tear to my eye.
I also didn’t see how it was possible. I knew, without question, that my parents wouldn’t allow it. It seems almost silly looking back on everything now, but walking away from my parents, from my family, had never occurred to me. Being disowned, however, that had presented itself to my imagination many times, and it terrified me. I’d been Aaron and Valerie Spencer’s daughter my entire existence. It’d been the defining reality of my life since the day I was born. What was I without it? Still, those questions didn’t need answers immediately, as graduation and the onset of real life still seemed an eternity away.
We had people over on a regular basis, which Mitch always made fun. I remembered company being a super stressful experience growing up, like Mom’s entire self worth was being judged, mostly by my dad.
But being with Mitch, I finally understood that having people over wasn’t about showing off, (well maybe just a little, but in a fun way), it was about spending time with people you cared about and having fun. The first time we had Carrie and her boyfriend du jour over I’d been frantically cleaning the bathroom while Mitch was in the kitchen, singing to herself. I was furious at her. Didn’t she know how important this was?
I was scrubbing the slightly discolored toilet, which had been that way when we moved in, when Mitch appeared behind me and lifted me to my feet. There were tears in my eyes, but Mitch just held me to her. “Baby. It doesn’t have to be perfect. They’re not coming to see our bathroom.”
“I don’t want them to think we’re pigs.”
“We aren’t. Have you seen Carrie’s dorm room?”
That made me smile. She wasn’t a slob, but Carrie wasn’t the most orderly person on earth, either. Mitch tightened her arms around me and rested her chin on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I turned in her arms and let a few sobs slip free as she held me.
“Do you want me to call them and cancel?”
I shook my head. “No, you worked so hard on dinner.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, forcing a smile and giving Mitch a little kiss. I knew I wasn’t fooling her, but she let it drop. I managed to have a good time, and Mitch didn’t bring it up again until they were gone, and we were snuggled in bed.
“You want to tell me what that was about before?” Mitch was holding me from behind, big-spooning me and whispering in my ear.
“It’s just, um,” I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth and safety of my lover. “It’s hard. Company coming, it was stressful.”
“Really? Why? It’s supposed to be fun, y’know.”
I smiled. “I know.” I steeled myself, and I think Mitch was going to let it go, but I wanted to tell her, so I opened a dark closet in my mind. “One time, when I was nine or so, we had Pastor Greaver and his wife over, and Mom overcooked the roast, and it was a little dry. Our guests were both complimentary, and grateful, and I didn’t think it was a big deal until they left.
“We kids were sent off to bed, but I came out for a glass of water to keep on my bed stand. I listened as my father scolded my mother. He said the meat was unacceptable, how disappointed he was in her, and he asked her how he was supposed to be respected in the church if he couldn’t bring the pastor home for a decent meal. He just kept saying these horrible things in this cold, vicious voice. She was in tears, saying how sorry she was, begging for forgiveness.
“He just left her there, crying in the kitchen, cleaning up. I so badly wanted to go help her, but I didn’t know what Dad would have done if I had, so I slunk back to my room like a coward. After that I was terrified anytime anyone came over. I’d always do everything I could to help, but I could always see how scared Mom was.”
“Oh, Cindy.”
I let the tears come as Mitch held me close and kissed the back of my head.
“Cindy, you know I would never treat you like that, right?” I nodded, and Mitch continued to whisper to me. “Real love isn’t like that. What your dad did, that was abuse. Making someone earn love is abusive, plain and simple. I love you to the moon and back, and you never, ever have to earn it. It’s yours, just because you’re you. Okay?”
I turned in her embrace, tears streaming as my heart broke with love for the woman holding me. Her love was a perfect gift, one I still felt I didn’t fully deserve. Was it because I felt I hadn’t earned it? I’d always had to earn my dad’s love, or at least his approval. That was the only thing I knew how to do. But here it was. A gift, if I could just accept it. And Mitch was right, that’s how love was supposed to be. I’d never make her earn my love. It was hers, and her love was mine, which meant I could let myself just belong in her arms.