Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

answer. “Excuse me?” she said, her voice going up in volume. “What did you just say to me?”
    “No. I mean, you’re not a woman! I mean, you are a woman, but not like a regular woman!” Her eyes got bigger, and I was almost surprised I wasn’t being vaporized by the rage burning in them. “Wait, that’s not what I meant!”
    She pointed her sandal at me like some kind of weapon. “You’re an asshole.”
    “Julia, I only meant that it’s not the same thing at all! Not because you’re a woman, but because you’re a… a….” I stopped short, feeling myself tipping over the edge of that cliff.
    “A what ?” she hissed. The word that had popped into my head was “housewife,” but I wasn’t sure if I should say that or not. Was “housewife” a politically correct term? I was racking my brain, trying to think of a better word, but I was too slow. “A breeder , Jon?” she asked, her voice like ice. “Is that the term you’re looking for?”
    “What? No ! I wasn’t going to—”
    “Bullshit!” she said advancing on me, with her sandal still in her right hand. “You think you’re so much better than me? Is that what you think?”
    “ No !”
    “Well, fuck you!” she yelled, and she smacked me hard on the arm with the sole of her sandal.
    “ Ow ! Julia, what the hell? I never said any of those things!”
    “You think your stupid pride is more important than love? Then you deserve to be miserable.” She finally put on her second sandal, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief that she wouldn’t be able to smack me with it again. She grabbed the remainder of the six-pack off of the table with one hand, reached out with the other hand and pulled my half-full can out of my hand. “You’re an idiot,” she said. And then she left.
    I sat there for a minute trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. And then I gave up and went back to bed.

    I DIDN’T allow myself to sink back into the pit Julia had pulled me out of. The next morning I got up and made myself go for a run, for the first time in a week. Afterward, I showered and shaved, then went down the street where I picked up donuts and coffee for two.
    I was a little nervous knocking on her door. I was halfway expecting her to start beating me with her shoe again. But when the door opened, she looked apologetic.
    “I’m glad to see you’ve joined the land of the living again,” she said.
    “Thanks to you.” She shrugged. “How about a donut?” I asked her, and she smiled a little.
    “Sounds good.”
    “Julia,” I said, once were sitting down, “I’m sorry.”
    “I’m sorry too.”
    “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
    “I know.”
    “I only meant that it was different because you work too—maybe not for pay, but I know it’s not easy doing what you do.”
    She shrugged again. “I’m not asking for sympathy, Jon. I have a good life. Don’t get me wrong—sometimes it feels like I’m juggling with one hand tied behind my back. But I know how lucky I am to have the luxury of staying home.”
    “I swear to you, Julia, I was not going to say that word.”
    “It wasn’t you,” she said. “It was Tony.” Tony, her gay brother who lived in California. “I talked to him two days ago, and he used that word. And I was just so shocked, I hung up before I could really say anything to him. I tried to tell myself he didn’t really mean anything by it, but the more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got. And then when you started talking about it being disgraceful for somebody to not work—”
    “Julia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
    “I know.”
    “Have you talked to Tony since then?”
    “No.” She shrugged. “It’s not fair,” she said, sounding sheepish.
    “I’m his biggest advocate. The rest of my family won’t even speak to him. I stand up for him, and what do I get for it? I get called names.”
    She shook her head, not looking at me. “I don’t understand. Neither one of us can help what we are, and yet for some reason, he feels that I deserve his contempt simply because I’m not like him.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said again, because I didn’t know what else to say.
    “If I were to call him a name like that for being gay, he would never forgive me.”
    “Julia,” I said cautiously, trying to tread carefully, “I’m not trying to be an asshole here, but I don’t think being a straight woman in our society is nearly as difficult as being a gay man.”
    She