Page 24 of Balancing Act

“The problem, Sean, is that I can’t sleep with my daughter’s gymnastics coach. Lily already hates me enough. Do you think that’s going to get any easier if I’m fucking her coach?” The statement sounded so crass coming out of her mouth, but it was how she felt.

“But you want to, don’t you?”

She peered at Sean’s slightly pixelated face through the computer screen.

She did. More than she probably should, given that Jamie only seemed interested in being friends—or at least that’s what she kept saying. Beth couldn’t quickly turn that part of her brain off, the part that wanted Jamie in those ways, and the more time they spent together, the more difficult that got. The line between friends and more than friends had been blurry from the start, but what was eating at Beth was her inability to tell if what she was feeling for Jamie was just a moment, or was it meant to be more?

“Even if I did,” she said slowly, “it’s bad timing. She’s leaving at the end of the year to go back to Oregon, so what would be the point? Plus, Jamie has made it clear she’s not interested in anything beyond friendship. So that’s what we’re doing. We’re friends now.”

“Friends? Really? How’s that going?”

“Extremely well, thank you,” Beth shot back, with biting sarcasm.

“God. Sometimes I forget how much of a lesbian you are.” He laughed, and Beth glared at him once more. “Do yourself a favor, B. Go for a walk, try something new, smoke a joint or several—I don’t care what it is—but give yourself and your creative brain a break. You spent the last year firing on all cylinders, so to speak.Recharge, and the inspiration will flow again. It always does. I’ve got to go, but promise me you’ll think about everything I said?” He looked at her over the rim of his glasses, and Beth couldn’t help but let her guard down a little.

“I promise.”

Beth ended the call, Sean’s advice still rattling around her head. Recharge, he’d said, but how? She stared at the crumpled papers around her, willing herself to feel anything other than frustration.

Her phone vibrated on the desk, and for a fleeting moment, she caught herself hoping to see Jamie’s name on her screen, but it was Sarah confirming plans for family dinner later that evening.

She turned her phone face down and set it on the table. She had thought about texting Jamie to see how her day was going. Maybe she’d share some random thought that would make Jamie laugh, or maybe Jamie would offer one of her stories in return—like the one about sneaking her dad’s diner coffee into the gym.

Beth reached for her phone but stopped, her fingers hovering over it. Not yet. She wasn’t ready for what that might mean.

Later that night, Beth lay on her side, watching Sarah get redressed in the cool moonlight that drenched her bedroom. Sarah’s nimble fingers toyed with the buttons of her blouse, popping each back into place before running through her hair.

“Are you heading out?”

Beth’s voice was hoarse with sleep. She must have drifted off shortly after she and Sarah had come down from their highs. The last thing she remembered was Sarah tracing her fingers up and down Beth’s side as she succumbed to sleep.

“Hey.” She smiled softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered, squatting beside the bed. “I should go. If I miss the last ferry, I’m stuck.”

“What time is it?” Beth blinked the sleep from her eyes and patted around the nightstand for her phone.

“A little after midnight.”

Sarah cupped Beth’s cheek, her thumb brushing softly. What once felt like love now left guilt pressing against Beth’s chest. They were holding each other hostage in a connection neither seemed ready to sever. It wasn’t fair, but she kept that thought to herself as Sarah leaned in to place a swift, chaste kiss on her lips.

“Don’t wake Lily,” she reminded.

“I won’t. See you next week, beautiful,” she said, before slipping out the door.

Beth lay still in bed, the familiar weight of the emptiness beside her. Sleep wasn’t coming back to her any time soon. She waited until she heard the front door click before climbing out of bed and pulling on her Stanford crewneck and leggings. She was wide awake now—may as well try and get some work done.

In the dark, Beth went downstairs, across the kitchen, and through the breezeway connecting her studio to the main house. She set the studio lights to a dim glow, then went over to the electric kettle in the corner, busying herself with making tea.

“Mom?” a sleepy voice said behind her. She turned around to find Lily.

“Lils, what are you doing up?” Beth asked quickly, suddenly nervous that Lily may have caught Sarah sneaking out of the house a few minutes ago.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She shrugged and climbed onto one of the stools at Beth’s worktable. “Can I have a cup of tea too?”

Beth poured the now-boiling water into two mugs and added her favorite lavender tea sachets. She handed one of the mugs to Lily before plopping down onto the stool across from her. They sipped their tea quietly as Beth waited to see if Lily was going to let her in on what was really keeping her awake.

“Can we paint together for a bit? Like we used to when I was little?” she asked sweetly, and there was no way Beth would ever refuse an ask like that from her daughter.

“Of course, love.” She set her tea aside and gathered supplies. “Watercolor? Acrylic? Oil paints? Pick your poison.”