More like a mean butch who despises me. How Rachel wouldloveknowing just how badly we get along. I snort, but it’s a sound bordering on despair. I lean my head into my hands, clutching at my hair. I knew winning the showcase wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t expect it to be so hard, either.
My phone dings, reminding me of the Queer Mountaineers hang. I shuffle into my bathroom and stare into the mirror at my face, bare except for all these feelings. But I don’twantto feel these feelings right now, or preferably, at all. I want to be Zoe Brennan, Director of Operations and Boss Bitch of Bluebell Vineyards. Not high school Zoe whose best friend dumped her, or post-college Zoe, burdened by the bad business decisionsher father made, or even current-day Zoe, forced to work with her first crush who now hates her. I want to be in control again. Ineedto be in control again.
I pick up my eyeliner and turn it over in my hand, staring at its well-worn nib. I should go tonight, it’ll be good to see friends, but who says I need to get fixed up? It’s just a Queer Mountaineers hang where everyone’s already coupled off or otherwise unavailable. My friends love me with or without cat-eyes. I zip up the makeup bag and put it back on the shelf, then find the coziest sweatpants I own.
This is my sweatpants era.
“Good lord,sweatpants?” Teddy exclaims when I putz into the wine bar twenty minutes later. He slaps the counter to get the bartender’s attention. “Get this sad lesbian a glass of Petite Sirah.”
I smile despite myself. Teddy knows I drink the darkest red available whenever I’m depressed. He pats my back as I lean onto the bar next to him. “Drink what you want, baby. I’ll put you in for a whitening next week.”
“Love you, Teddy,” I say, low enough for only him to hear. Teddy doesn’t really do displays of genuine, non-sarcastic affection, but beneath his silky athleisure ensembles and brash exterior, there flows a kindness and generosity that’s gotten me through some of my roughest times. After Rachel friend-dumped me, it took me years to open up to somebody else. I had friends, sure, but they bobbed on the surface of my life just like everything else. But when Teddy started moonlighting at Bluebell while he was getting his dental practice off the ground, his playful ribbing graduated into real conversations and over time, we made it past each other’s defensive obstacle course of protective barriers and coping mechanisms. When we met, he hadn’t found Diego yet, and we bonded over our shared, secret fear of being hopelessly single in a tiny queer community. WatchingDiego and Teddy fall in love, thenstayin love, casts a warm, comforting light over the shadows I’m still lost in, a bit of hope that maybe my perfect match will move to Blue Ridge one day, too. Most importantly, though, Teddy’s concern for me never feels like pity. It just feels like love.
He looks both ways, as though he doesn’t want to be caught being my best friend, then leans in and whispers, “Still charging your ass.”
The place is packed with the local queer community, and I give little nods and salutes to different tables of my former flings as I pass. Kai is here with her wife Charlie, both of whom attended the Zoe Brennan Finishing School for Young Lesbians, both remorseless dropouts. Jojo and her wife are here, too. We only had one date before Jojo stopped texting me, but kudos to her for picking up that text thread with zero shame two years later to ask about our wedding rental rates. Her eyes travel down my outfit, and not in a good way.
Coulda hadall this, Jojo.
We head back to my friends’ table, thankfully free of my former dalliances. When Tristan eyes my outfit this time, his beard twitches around his smile. “This look’s giving bigdon’t-look-at-me-motherfuckerenergy. Guess you’re over your crush on the new vintner?”
I squeeze my eyes closed. “For the love of god, I don’t have a crush on Laine!”
The whole table stops to stare at me with frank disbelief. Teddy just says, “Baby.”
I shrug and reach for my wine. “I accidentally slept with her—there’s a difference.”
Tristan arches an auburn eyebrow. “O-kaaaay. Are you over accidentally sleeping with the new vintner then?”
I think back to the last few weeks—the arguing, all of Laine’s snobby digs, her disdain for Bluebell Vineyards that drips continually from her very essence. “I’msoover it.”
As blazing hot as Laine is, her attitude toward Bluebell Vineyards has cooled any feelings I might’ve had for her. I’m almost grateful she sucks so plentifully, come to think of it. Falling for my interim vintner would’ve been aggressively stupid.
“Sure,” Tristan replies gamely.
“Look, I need her help to keep the vineyard running until Dad comes home so I can snag theEveryday Bon Vivantshowcase. If I didn’t, I’d have fired her weeks ago.”
“So if she were standing behind you, right now, you wouldn’t care?” Tristan’s smoky-rimmed hazel eyes flick over my shoulder to the door.
I whip around so fast, I nearly sprain my neck.
And … there’s no one there.
“Youasshole!” I hit Tristan on one of his thick arms, and everyone starts laughing. I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing now, too. The best part is, Ikeeplaughing. Diego launches into a funny story about a nurse he works with at the local hospital getting caught stealing bedpans (I mean, is there a black market for bedpans??), then our stalwart softball lesbians Maeve and Gloria show up, looking as disgruntled as I’ve ever seen them.
“What’s this all about?” Diego gestures with both hands, gently encompassing their ragamuffin appearance and downtrodden expressions.
Maeve sits down. “Saving animals, that’s what. Whole petting zoo got dropped off.”
Teddy arches an eyebrow. “I’m guessing you don’t wanna pet them.”
Gloria sits beside Maeve and sniffs. “No, sir.”
“What happened?” I try not to smile, but they’re so comically peeved. I’ve known Maeve for years, and she’s as bighearted as they come, taking in all manner of critters for her animal rescue. She ends up adopting half of them herself, but that’s to be expected when you’re a big softie like Maeve. She used to try to foist the poor orphan fur-children onto me, but I show my support by regularly donating to her rescue instead.I simply refuse to attach my heart to anything with less than a seventy-five-year lifespan.
Maeve heaves a world-weary sigh. “The zoo owner got arrested. Turns out he was on the run from the Swiss government.”
Tristan mock-gasps. “And here I thought they were neutral.”
