See Yourself Be Yourself

[56] Not Our Burden

Misty flicked through the first music recommendations her phone threw at her. She barely looked at them. She didn’t have earbuds anyway.

Her hand, still holding the phone, dropped past her thigh, and her elbow knocked hard against the wooden bench. Not enough to hurt, but enough for a needling tingle to ring through her. Evening glow huddled beneath the mall’s broad ceiling and filtered through an art installation she hadn’t noticed before.

Cool-toned umbrellas hung from wires near the ceiling. The first simply read YOU ARE. The others carried words she could only half make out from where she sat: loved, respected, remembered, cherished.

Alone was the word of the moment. Valerie wasn’t done with work yet. Even Elpis, the girl at the front desk, was gone, along with her shark. The usual shoppers and wanderers in the center seemed almost desperate to avoid her. At least there were no children nearby to worry her.

Tears came, as they always did. She could still hold them back, dash them away, keep her face composed. Lillis had left to deal with something involving a cake, some detail that had bounced past Misty like a tossed ball while she wasn’t looking. She couldn’t tell whether she needed to throw up or do something quieter.

For now, she pressed her head against the hard wood of the bench until it almost felt numb. Her legs stayed braced beneath her. The memory of someone snatching Vivi’s phone hovered too close to let her fully rest.

The yank-and-run she’d watched helplessly made her clamp her teeth together until her jaw hurt. Maybe alone was better. He hadn’t hurt Vivi, but he could have. He could’ve grabbed for her throat. Or her body. Misty wanted to mangle him into the sidewalk and keep going until all he knew, all he remembered, was what it meant to scream for mercy and never hear an answer.

She felt better. Focused. Like she’d screamed without having to make a sound. Why did the world have to be the sort of place that required her patience, invited her rage, and rewarded her darkest imaginings?

Her legs were numb. Too tight. She let them rest as wintergreen radiation threaded up toward her knees. Her feet quivered, caught in the returning spin cycle of feeling. Misty gripped her phone by the top and bottom and squeezed it against her hip.

“…Misty?”

Valerie’s voice. Soft, hesitant, with gravel rattling through it.

Misty looked up and flinched.

Valerie’s face was swarming with red. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Misty set her feet to jump up, to get to her, but they weren’t ready for standing yet. Valerie glided to the bench beside her, fumbled the landing, and half-collapsed against Misty’s thigh. Misty pulled her closer, smothering the first apology Valerie tried to mumble out.

More apologies followed.

“I forgot to text you. I’m so sorry. After everything, especially lately, I’ve been so blesse… blee… Blessin… blasé about your feelings.” Valerie winced at herself. “It’s not right. I will do better. I have to. For you.”

She was more coherent than Misty.

Misty broke swiftly, words coming out more like feeling than language.

Bad. I’m bad. Bad thought. Bad intrusive. Hurt. Mad hurt. Pain. Not you. Sad. No, not sad. You. You don’t do that.

“You’re so wonderful.”

They pulled each other close with kisses that kept losing the border between their mouths, panting whimpers caught just shy of choking, and hot tears that blurred each other and the space around them.

"Jesus, God in heaven, give me strength. This again. Could one of you please help me here before I deliver this cake to the ground?”

Lillis’s exasperated voice cut through the warm blur of their emotional orbits.

With a few quick blinks, Misty resolved the blur into Lillis standing nearby with the biggest, most ungainly cake she had ever seen, stretched long across a platter and nearly tipping out of her control. Lillis had one knee braced against the underside, one end angled toward the nearest bench, and no calm or cool pretense left on her face. Her eyebrows had crumpled into a plea.

Misty stumbled up, one leg still not ready for her full weight. Valerie was already ahead of her, hopping off Misty’s thigh and rushing to prop up the far edge of the platter. Together, with a lot of difficulty, they eased it down until more than half of it rested safely on the wooden bench.

Misty arched an eyebrow. “What is this?”

Lillis glanced at Misty with a small smirk, clearly tempted by the obvious answer. Then her gaze flicked to Misty’s face, and the smirk dipped into a cough before she pivoted. "Raleigh ordered a custom cake for the company. For all of us." 

She brushed her hands at her sides and gestured to the thing sprawled across more space than any one of their bodies could fill. Misty shook off the quick morbid thought that the cake could just barely squeeze into a coffin box.

"So why do you have it?” Valerie asked.

“Because I’m the one delivering it,” Lillis said, straightening with a wince. 

Misty leaned forward, squinting through the frosty plastic cover. Condensation clouded most of the cake beneath it, leaving only smudges of color for Misty to catch: white, gold, and a few bright tones of blue and gold. Her heart picked up for a few seconds before she reminded herself that seeing those colors in the world didn’t mean anything. The umbrellas above had paired them at least twice.

Don’t stress about simple silly things.

Lillis reached into her bag and retrieved a half-folded, laser-printed image. It looked hand-drawn, colorful, and festive.

It showed a broad white field across the top, bordered by braided bands of blue and gold. Little pearl-like dots caught the mall light where the paper bent. Tiny roses, notebooks, coffee cups, instruments, game pieces, theater masks, medical symbols, books, stars, cats, dice, and folded paper shapes had been arranged into small personalized vignettes, each one gathered around a name like a private shrine.

Misty’s corner had soft pink flowers, a happy little kitten, and a banner with her name written in a gentle, unshowy style, neither especially masculine nor especially feminine.

Dawn’s name appeared in fancy golden script beside books, an apple, and a tiny chalkboard. Max had dice, food, and an arcade cabinet against green. May had curtains, masks, and a playbill. Verity had a stack of books and purple hearts.

Tracy’s section was all care, bandages, and encouraging blue accents. Elisa and Prentiss shared a space marked with red roses, a marble sculpture, paperwork, coffee, and matching judo outfits.

Raleigh’s nook was bright, warm, and ridiculous, crammed with cheese, celebration, and cheerful nonsense. Lillis’s corner was neat and deliberate, with tea, Dune, sand, and green vines curling around the edge like a sneaky little hug.

And then there was the middle.

Valerie narrowed her eyes at it.

Her name sat in the center, huge and blue, raised on a gold banner above a smaller strip that read President & Founder. Below that, in letters much too grand for any dessert, was THE COMPANY. Around it were blue roses, golden stars, a tiny hoodie, a notebook, headphones, a painter’s palette, and music notes. 

"What did I do to be put front and center?” Valerie muttered, her face trying and failing to choose the right shape for concern.

Lillis pointed to the words beneath Valerie’s name. “President and founder.”

“But I didn’t do anything to earn that title. You gave it to me. And I haven’t officially agreed to anything yet.”

Leaning toward the cake, Lillis tapped the frosty plastic and offered, “If you get me a butter knife, we could eat your title. I have some frosting at home. We could fill it back in.”

Valerie cringed and adjusted the shoulders of her suit. "Nononono. Although I wonder how many calories Valerie is. Sorry. I filed away some puns earlier and wanted to use that one. It would be more trouble for you."

Rolling one shoulder, Lillis said, “Not really. Easy fix. I don’t want you to be sad because of a cake.”

“No.” Valerie drew in a breath and spoke calmly and clearly. “It’s a good cake. And I’m supposed to be the president, for whatever that’s worth. Founder sounds unnecessary. But I don’t want to mess with the design. I’ll just make sure Raleigh knows not to do this kind of thing in the future.”

Lillis smiled lightly. “I told him to do it. I looked at the cake before they packed it up, and the details of your life are so lovely.”

Valerie cradled her stomach for a moment, as though some of the cake had already been put in there. “Thank you. But how are we gonna get it to the truck and all the way to the Friday get-together?”

When Misty briefly supported one side of the cake, she had no idea how Lillis had gotten it this far on her own. Brent had once helped lift one of his parents’ old wooden console TVs for disposal, and that had been such an ordeal he still felt it years later, like the memory had burned itself into his muscles. Even with her body so different now, the weight pinged that same old memory. Valerie had done her best, but she’d mostly been steering the platter toward the bench.

“They didn’t let you borrow any kind of cart to get it to the truck?” Misty lifted her brows at Lillis.

Lillis rolled her neck once, then twice, before letting her head settle to one shoulder. “Ah… I should’ve asked.”

Misty dipped her head. “Did you just tell them, ‘I got this,’ and leave?”

"Yes. It didn't feel that heavy. Alright, I'll go ask them for a utility cart or whatever they..."

Valerie swooped around to join Misty, and Misty gestured to herself. With one look, they already had a plan. Misty announced, “We are gonna go ask them if they can deliver it because they are more likely to make sure it gets there without trouble.”

Lillis lifted her palms in resignation while leaning against one of the mall’s side columns. “But the cost to Raleigh. After that cheese silliness last time. I can deal with a cake.”

Misty straightened. “We’re not just one person carrying the whole thing alone. We’re an entire company of people, and we share in each other’s company. A cake celebrating all of us shouldn’t be a burden you have to shoulder by yourself. If they can’t deliver it, then we talk to Raleigh and figure out something fair, so tonight doesn’t turn painful. It’s supposed to be a celebration.”

With her head tilted back, Lillis pushed off the column and said simply, “Alright.” She adjusted her feet beneath her. 

Misty took half a step toward Lillis. “Are you alright?”

With a quick shake of her head, Lillis smiled and reassured her, "Fine. Tired. I could use some water." 

Valerie rushed over to one of the nearby vending machines to get a small bottle of water for Lillis, who grumbled that she could just as easily fill up from the tap in the restroom. But she took the bottle and immediately drank half of it.

The cake shop confirmed that delivery was included because of the size of the item, and they already had Dawn’s address in Glendora from Raleigh’s order. Lillis hung back as Misty and Valerie settled the matter, while several workers from the cake shop brought the cake back inside.

Once they were done, Valerie went over to Lillis and gave her friend a quick hug. 

Sighing, Lillis looked Valerie in the eye. “I’m sorry. I could’ve dropped your cake. That was a stupid thing to do.”

Valerie narrowed her gaze and grinned. “Our cake. Not our burden.”

Lillis pulled Valerie into a tight hug. “Same to you.”

Gulping lightly and rubbing Lillis’s back with firm little passes, Valerie answered in a soft whisper that trailed off before it could fully accept the ground beneath it. “Yeah… same here.”

Walking through the parking lot empty-handed left Lillis marching with her jaw tight. Misty didn’t tense up quite as much, but she could feel that tightness in her friend and slowed her pace a little while staying close to Valerie, who had no formality to bother with as she swayed, dipped, and pranced ahead in her heels with soft rhythmic clicks.

“Would you like to… hmm. Star. Moonbeams.”

They both slowed to get closer to Valerie’s mood. She paused her prancing to explain the song stuck in her head: a 1980s sitcom version of a 1940s Bing Crosby song.

Her looping footsteps took her over to Misty, and with permission they shared a silly dance, twirling and slipping between empty parking spots.

“You should change back at your place before we head to meet up with Dawn and the rest of the gir… bra-shopping group.” Lillis gestured lightly and popped her neck.

Misty couldn’t help smiling a little, one arm looped around Valerie. “I think you look so much better in a hoodie or that shirt from last night.”

Valerie grinned with her head down. “I have a navy blue top I really like. And it’s loose enough that no one needs to know how much of a boob I am.” Her smile at the phrasing drifted away when she looked over at Misty.

In response, Misty squeezed her girlfriend gently but securely against her chest. They shared a few quiet giggles.

On the way to the apartments, Valerie said her pancake-loving coworker had brought up truck camper shells her uncle made. She imagined a tortoiseshell shell that would make the truck look half cat. Lillis scrunched her brows at the prices Valerie mentioned, but she admitted, “That sounds cute. And functional.”

Their stop at home took only a few minutes. Valerie couldn’t find her clothes, then couldn’t find a good place to put the suit, and eventually slunk back out in a worn, faded shirt and a pair of shorts. The top was indeed a deep navy blue, but its collar had a ragged edge that bordered on spiky. She moved awkwardly in the shorts, adjusting them several times before deciding this was good enough.

Before they headed back to the truck, Valerie shifted her legs and asked, “Not that I would want it, but I’m always curious how it feels to have stuff on the outside more.”

Misty turned the words over in quiet puzzlement before the meaning clicked. “Oh! Well, for what it’s worth, I’m happy with what you’ve got. As for myself, it actually slips my mind lately. Everything is further back, lower, and closer. And quiet for now.”

Valerie nodded and clung close to Misty. “I get the idea. I super analyzed some really good drawings in junior high from a GATE teacher when we had sex ed. My happiest little moment was the teacher randomly noting that I was looking at the female anatomy images as much as the boys were. She didn’t realize I was looking at the other anatomy map too, but I was sly about it. But I get it at that level. I get forward, higher, and further away relationally. And… complicated in its own way. Though I don’t understand all that except through translation. And I want to understand. I feel like I’m missing half of human understanding.”

Lillis leaned out of the driver’s side with her door open. “Sweetie, get in. You can’t solve the whole of human nature in one evening. Let’s go shopping and just solve one evening with friends.”

Valerie sat in the rear driver’s-side seat behind Lillis, even though her eyes kept drifting toward the passenger seat up front. Misty slid in on that side too, cozying as close to Valerie as the seat belt allowed, unapologetic when their hips bumped. She wanted to be closer still, to both of them.

Once they were underway, Lillis cranked up the air and aimed it at the back. It fluttered loose the sweat that their little dance had brought along with the workday malaise. Misty didn’t care where they ended up, so long as Valerie was there.