Different Circles

“I hear that rag is claiming you and the Mexican woman like to lie down with your own kind,” the proprietor said. “That’s a pretty wicked accusation.”

Jake blinked. “I’m sorry, is wicked a good thing or a bad thing?”

“It could mean either,” he said, “but in this case, it’s a bad thing, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Jake said.

“Not that it’s any of my business,” the proprietor qualified. “I’ll still sell you gas and Maudie will still sell you groceries. Even if you do like to play for both teams, your money is just as good as any flatlander’s.”

“That’s good to know,” Laura said. She turned back to Jake. “Maybe you oughtta pick up a copy of that rag while you’re there.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I’d better.”

Back in Bangor, Celia Valdez and Suzie Granderson were in Celia’s suite at the Sheraton hotel near the airport. It was just past 11:00 AM and they were still in bed, naked and cuddled against each other, Celia resting her head on Suzie’s chest while Suzie’s arms were locked around her. They had been up late last night, first drinking two bottles of white wine (the King Air was currently at Bangor Airport undergoing a B-level check, therefore Suzie’s moratorium on drinking alcohol was temporarily on hold) and then engaging in a lengthy, two-hour long session of lesbian lovemaking that had finally wrapped up around 3:00 AM. Now, both of them were awake, but too comfortable to get out of bed just yet. Both had headaches and sour stomachs but were quite satiated sexually.

They no longer bothered trying to hide their relationship from the other members of the band. In truth, it had been an exercise in futility to even try, as was evidenced by the ‘anonymous source close to the band’ who had spilled the beans to the New England Reports journalist who had called asking for commentary on the allegation. They still had no idea who that anonymous source was, but he or she had provided enough details of the day-to-day operations and engagement of the band members—particularly Suzie, Celia, and Laura—that they knew they had a mole among them. Was it a member of the road crew? One of the techies? One of the bus drivers? One of the limo drivers? One of the band members? Of all the possibilities, that was the one that bothered Celia the most. The seven of them were very close to each other, had been living and sleeping and traveling and playing music together for months. The thought that one of them might have betrayed her was too much to handle.

“The issue should be at the news stands and supermarket checkouts now,” Suzie said softly, bringing her hand up to play with Celia’s silky hair.

“That’s true,” Celia said with a sigh, snuggling a little tighter into her lover. “From this point on, the media circus will begin. You’ve never been through anything like this before, have you?”

“No,” Suzie said. “I mean, I saw what happened when you and Greg were divorcing and the whole Mindy Snow pregnancy thing hit the public, but I’ve never been personally involved in anything like this.”

“Maybe you won’t be,” Celia suggested. “Paulie said that when the reporter called her, all she knew was that your name was Suzie and that you were a pilot who flew us around. She did not provide them with your last name, the name of your company, or even confirm that there was a female pilot on our plane. This is a sleazy gossip rag. There’s a good chance they were not able to identify you.”

“Really?” Suzie asked.

Celia shrugged. “It’s certainly possible,” she said. “No reporter ever called you to ask for your version of the story, did they?”

“No.”

“You’d think that if they knew who you were, they would have done that, right?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It that how it usually works?”

“Well ... with legitimate journalism it is,” she said. “I don’t know if this New England rag follows the standards of journalistic ethics, but even if they don’t, their story would be juicier if they were able to get a quote from you, or a picture, or anything at all. The fact that they did not even try is suggestive.”

“Maybe,” Suzie said, leaning down and kissing the top of Celia’s head. She hesitated for a few seconds, continuing to stroke Celia’s hair, and then said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Celia said. “You know that.”

“Did you ever think ... uh ... even for a minute ... that maybe the best course of action would have been to ... just ... you know ... admit that we are together?”

The question caught Celia off guard. She raised her head up and looked into Suzie’s eyes. “Admit we are together? You’re not serious, are you?”

“Well ... we are together,” Suzie said. “We’ve been living and sleeping together as a couple for the past month now. How long do we need to keep this in the closet?”

Madres de Dios, Celia thought desperately. How do I answer this one? “Suzie ... uh ... I am not a lesbian.”