Age is But a Number (lesbian story)

Age is But a Number (lesbian story): Chapter 22

Laura’s POV

I didn’t go to school today. By the time grandma Ellen let us out it was around 1am. Apparently she had gone to a friend’s house and forgot we were in the basement. I didn’t mind much though; I actually loved digging into Mom’s past. She could be such a storyteller when she wanted to be, and the best part was that she didn’t lie. She told me about her and mom, school, the streets, the world, and just life in general. I never knew that Mom was so smart. For a woman who was rarely at school because she had to support a sick mother and a little brother, Mom proved that school can’t teach you everything.

I still keep thinking about the whole adoption story…I just can’t believe it. I mean I know it’s true, but I just keep playing it over and over in my head. I imagine my real Mom being this bubbly redhead woman and my real Dad being just relaxed and laid back…sort of like how Mom and Mommy are. Then I imagine the house being burned down and only me surviving. That part I want to get out of my head. Mom said that if I wanted to she would take me to go see their graves…I agreed to going.

At times like these I really miss Beth. Beth knows just how to talk to people and knows what areas to touch and which ones not to touch. I’m beyond mad at her though. I know she’s been keeping so much from me and I can’t stand it. I’ve always been a firm believer in honesty so her keeping things from me makes me go insane. But she’s 45, I know she has a lot of secrets but I at least thought she would tell me the vita ones. I kept calling her phone all morning and afternoon and she didn’t answer. Finally when she did answer it wasn’t her. It was some tipsy bitch with a British accent who answered it. She told me that Beth was “Passed Out” and from what I don’t know. But obviously passed out isn’t a good thing.

I was so mad that I just stayed in my room and blasted music all day. Well, at least until Mommy woke up, came in the room and snapped at me for it. Mommy never snaps at me so she must be in a bad mood for some reason. It didn’t bother me though because Mommy never snaps at me for playing music. She’ll usually tell me to turn it up louder because she loves listening to it while she writes. Even Mom will let me blast music as long as it’s the kind she likes.

I couldn’t believe how much Mom and I calmed down. I thought for sure we’d still be at each other’s throats. Now we’re just neutral I guess. I know she still doesn’t fully agree with my decision, but I’m almost 18. Last night she mentioned going over Beth’s house so she could talk with her. To be honest I think that’s going to start another fight. Mom is stubborn and Beth is stubborn. It’s like fighting fire with fire. The only way not to burn the damn house down is to bring in water, and Mommy would be the water.

If Mommy goes over to Beth’s house with Mom, they might actually get something accomplished. I would go, but that would be beyond awkward. I mean having my two moms talk to my 45 year old girlfriend whom they’re old friends with. That’s fucked up. We’d all just be sitting around and then Mommy would ask her famous question “Who wants Cake?” Every time there’s an awkward, hostile moment at an occasion she has to bring out the cake. I’m surprised that we aren’t all huge by now.

Anyway, I’m still livid with the fact that Beth hasn’t personally called me yet. I mean she could have at least sent a text message or something. I hope I don’t turn into one of those girls who are waiting by the telephone for their girlfriend or boyfriend. It’s still a bit weird to think of Beth as my girlfriend. I mean seeing as though as soon as we established ourselves as that we were separated. Maybe in some twisted way we are like a Romeo and Juliet, no I’m not even going to compare us to that.

It’s been dead silent all day today. It’s only quiet like that when Mommy and Mom are in an argument…Holy shit what if they are in an argument? Right now the house is quiet, but I smell pizza or something downstairs.