Greg was at work and I was home lying on my yellow bean bag chair staring at my walls of seasons and worldly places, trying to think of a new design for Ellen to mass produce and sell at K-MART for under twenty dollars. This was a whole new way of thinking for me. As opposed to what I think is cool, I had to think of what the public thought was cool. A challenge in its own right, but the truth was I couldn’t think of that either. My mind couldn’t help but wander to thoughts of Hillary and Maxfield. He must be so sad.

A few minutes later Shirley showed up at my door and could see the grief on my face. She hugged me and fingered my hair. She felt warm and her comfort reminded me of my mother. We lay on my bed together, gaining security from each other’s presence.

“My mother’s dead you know,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t know that.”

“She died when I was eight. Sometimes I think that’s why I’m a dyke. I mean, I don’t remember lesbian thoughts when my mom was alive, it was only when she was dead that I knew I liked girls more. Think that can be true? I mean, maybe since I didn’t have a mom around I just learned what it was like to be a man, not a girl.”

“I don’t know anything anymore. Anything is possible I suppose.”

Shirley sat up, “You know what we need?”

“What?”

“A celebration.”

“Shirley, I can’t?”

“Damn it, I’m taking you to dinner and we’re celebrating life and you getting a chance to think up a new design for the white trash girls of America.” A smile escaped me. “Thatta girl! Let’s go, get dressed, and we’re going fancy.”

A few hours later we were sipping martinis on the patio of The Ivy looking beautiful and feeling happy. “I have something to tell you,” Shirley said with a loving and serious tone, “I love you.”

Suddenly my body tingled. Actually, I could barely feel my body. It was almost like I lifted right out of my shoes. I was sure the grin broke my face and as quickly as I could, I regained my composure. I opened my mouth hoping the right thing would leave it, “I love you, too.” Ah, utter relief.

But all of sudden I heard a familiar voice screech our names and as I looked up I saw a short skirt hiked up on two “Pretty Woman” legs. Betsy leaned over, letting her chest almost hit the table. “The two hottest women in town.”

Shirley was pleasantly surprised. I was freaked she would say something, giving my indiscretion away, but Shirley made small talk. Suddenly, I imagined having to defend myself to Shirley in order not to lose her. To put it simply, that was the last thing I would be able to handle right now. I was in love, for the first time maybe, and she was so strong. I needed Shirley, there was no denying it.

Betsy stood up, “So…” she said smugly, resting her hands on her bony hips.

This is it I thought, the end of my infidelity secret, so I quickly changed the subject. “Who are you here with?” I blurted.

“I was just about to tell you, but don’t laugh okay?” Shirley and I both shrugged. “My boyfriend. He’s parking the car.” Shirley laughed, I didn’t. “I told you not to laugh!”

All of a sudden I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was Mike. HE WAS BETSY’S NEW BEAU!?!? He came up from behind her and slid his hands around her appetizing waist. “Mike?”

He looked at me, stunned. “You guys…know each other?” He asked.

Betsy smirked. “One way or another.” We all said our hellos and when they were called away to their table, I couldn’t believe I had made it though it all unscathed. Except for one thing of course-- I was incredibly pissed off about Mike. Not pissed, jealous I suppose. I loved Shirley, but there was no denying I wanted Betsy all to myself and the thought of someone else’s hands on her was pure torture, especially a man’s hands.

“You all right?” Shirley asked, “You look mad.”

“No, no, I’m fine, just frustrated by the interruption of that wonderful moment with you.”