Why Did It Have to Be Me

In this final part Susan has turned her back on Charlene and men and is trying to move forward. She likes Sarah, her therapist and she senses that the feelings may be mutual but a sudden change threatens to put it all on hold when she discovers she's pregnant. How will this affect her relationships with women in the future? Author's note: a doona is an Australian word for duvet or eiderdown.

The clinic, Ringwood North, Tuesday 8th January, 2002

Susan sat down in the chair and fiddled with her cuffs as she waited for Sarah to come back, she'd ushered her into another room and said she'd be back after she'd spoken to a colleague. She let her mind drift as she thought about Christmas. It'd been an odd one for her because despite being a part of the celebrations at church she was very much cognisant of the fact that she was gay and probably at odds with church philosophy. On the other hand she'd made new friends after formally asking to join Penny's group.

They said that one door closed and another opened. If she left church she wouldn't be left floating like driftwood. Robyn and Cindy's present was an olive-coloured silk dress that buttoned down the front, it also had a fabric belt. She was wearing it today with a white jacket and black heels because it seemed appropriate to advertise her work. She wasn't a model however, that honour had fallen to Alana, a quietly spoken legal secretary with Penny's practice.

That wasn't uppermost in her mind though, she rested her hand on her belly as if that would in some mysterious way cause her to have a miscarriage. She'd known she was late but because of the usual fuss over Christmas had put it on hold but a pregnancy test a few days ago confirmed that she was pregnant and at this point in time she was still trying to process it.

Susan looked up as Sarah came into the room. She was wearing a white silk tie blouse with a wide placket, it was tucked into tan trousers.

"Sorry about that, I just had to check in with someone," she sat down and put her diary onto a table between them, "I've got bad news and good news," she looked past her and for a split second Susan thought she'd aged slightly.

"After which, we can continue the session or I can rebook it."

"Oh," she straightened up, "what's wrong? You look stressed out."

"Is it that obvious?" Sarah's eyes widened.

"I can't see you any more because there's a conflict of interest."

"Oh right, Kerry?"

Sarah stared out the window for a second or so and then exhaled.

"No, it was my feelings for you. My colleagues think it was Kerry and I guess technically it could be a conflict but I've managed to get another colleague to see you instead for the remainder of your time," she opened her diary and took out a piece of paper.

"You've got another few sessions left and then we'll get you to fill in a form to see how far you've come. I'm sorry if it's a bit sudden but your honesty forced me to look at my love life and I use that term with inverted commas because it hasn't existed since my separation. I've had a few offers from men, some of them were quite good. I turned them all down but until now I couldn't work out why," she stared out the window.

"And it goes back to before I was married to a woman I once knew, we could have been an item but I suddenly found an excuse not to be in her company," she drew breath.

"But after talking to Penny and Robyn, I realised I can't avoid it. I'm the one who has to deal with her own issues and I'm sorry if it's affected you negatively."

Sarah stopped talking when Robyn held out her hand.

"It's okay, honestly. I am surprised but you've been honest and that goes a long way in my book, I can see another therapist but that's not the biggest thing on my mind at the moment."

"Thank fuck for that," she exhaled, "sorry, sorry, I meant thank you."

"It's okay, you can say fuck," she crossed her legs, "but it's probably a good thing, I was starting to have feelings for you but I was trying to keep them under control."

"Feelings?" Sarah's eyes widened.

"But we can discuss them another time but you wanted to organise another session?"

"Yes, yes," she picked up her diary and opened it, "you can have the same time with Eva, she's my immediate boss or you can have Amy on Wednesday or Friday afternoon."

"What's Eva like?"

"Very competent and she'd be my first choice but Amy has worked with a few clients who are gay or bisexual."

"Maybe I'll take your first choice then. When it comes to my sexual identity I've got support at home and it's just a matter of accepting myself but there are other issues now."

"Such as?" Sarah picked up her pen.

Susan stared out the window and touched her belly and when she looked back Sarah had cocked her head to one side.

"Are you? Are you pregnant?"

"Am I showing already?"

"Nope but call it women's intuition but does he know?"

"No," she swallowed.

"Are you going to keep it?"

"What do you mean?" Susan's eyes narrowed.

"It's your body, you don't have to keep it if you don't want to, you've got a choice."

"I hadn't thought of it to be honest, I don't want to tell him but I feel," she looked away.

"Guilty?"

"Yeah, it's only fair."

"To whom?" Sarah's brow furrowed.

"Unless you're intending on making him pay child support or granting him access it's none of his business. I don't believe we're obligated to involve a man in pregnancy even if we are married to him. I've had a couple of clients who fell pregnant at about the same time as their marriages ended. For the most part it didn't change their minds, and as for your ex, he's just a guy you got pregnant to. You're at home right now, no intention of moving out?"

"Nope, no need to, mum knows and she's supportive either way."

"So don't tell him, it's your decision. He'd have to go to court to get access."

"Which he won't do," she shifted in her seat, "I haven't made a decision yet but I have to decide by the end of the month."

"So, decide then but remember it's your decision, don't feel obligated to anyone."

"Thanks," she looked away, "but I'd rather talk about other things like my sexuality to Eva if you want to take down a few notes?"

"Of course," she picked up her diary, "such as?"

"My biological father, the things I saw as a kid etcetera."

"Okay, I'll mention that to her," she wrote down in her diary, "so are you willing to continue as we were before or would you like to come back next week?"

"If we continued today would it be seen as unethical?"

"Kind of but I wouldn't be in trouble because I've already told someone, we could chat about what we did over Christmas and New Year or something else?"

"Let's just chat about you then. Did you buy any clothes?"

"From Robyn and Cindy? Yeah, they have a fantastic selection," she tugged at her blouse.

"Cool, it looks nice," Robyn pulled at her dress, "they made this dress too."

"It's nice," she replied.

"Thank you," Susan rested a foot on the coffee table, "how was Christmas?"

"It was, tedious... half of my family live for Christmas and Easter."

"Are you the only non believer in your family?"

"My oldest brother, Ethan and youngest sister, Angela are both atheists but Nell and Narelle are Christians, Nell is at uni doing a theology degree and Narelle is engaged to a guy in bible college. They want to get married next year when he graduates, he wants to be a missionary. It's odd you've mentioned pregnancy because two of them are dead against it."

"I haven't decided about that at all yet but I understand the argument and it's always had a fatal flaw in that those who oppose it aren't prepared to adopt an unwanted baby, it's hypocrisy."

"Oh I so wish you'd been there at Christmas, my sentiments exactly."

"So, five children?" Susan's eyes narrowed.

"There were six, I had a brother who died of cot death."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks but it was a long time ago, back then it was still a trying time. Mum was questioned but the coroner ruled it as cot death. She was on medication for years and tried to commit suicide several times, my parents separated three months ago after she finally agreed to get help."

"So your dad was no help?"

"He tried in his own weird Christian way, he'd do the housework and see she took her pills but the way he's treated her over the way I can see he's definitely contributed to her mental decline. About four months ago though she really went all out with pills she'd been saving up for months. She was on life support and when she woke up I was at her bedside and I did what no one else has dared to do before," she paused.

"Confronted her?"

"Pretty much. I laid it all out and said if she wanted to keep on destroying herself then it was up to her but I wasn't going to stand idly by. I'd use my contacts to have her committed to an institution where she couldn't leave until they were convinced she'd recovered. I don't know if it was that or nearly dying, or both, but she agreed to get therapy and then about three weeks later she moved into a friend's place," she stopped and looked past her.

"Well, I s'pose you could say I've crossed a line now, I'm not supposed to talk about me."

"I'm glad you did, it's a shame we can't continue the way we have but you've got my numbers and the email address."

"What're you suggesting? That we see each other?"

"Yeah, I'll be seeing one of your colleagues so you're not breaking any rules."

"Okay then," she replied a few seconds later, "maybe in a few weeks time?"

"Of course," she smiled.

~*~

Faraday Street Friday 25 January, 17:45

Susan had always had mixed feelings about Australia Day. The twenty sixth was the day when the country celebrated the day the First Fleet landed at Sydney Cove and Arthur Phillip raised the flag of Great Britain, Scotland and Ireland on Australian soil. To celebrate this momentous occasion and to perhaps send out a message to any Aboriginals he hanged two convicts convicted of rioting and it was perhaps that image that stuck in her mind the most. A lot of countries had proud traditions and a history of valiant resistance. Australia's national day was the start of nearly two hundred years of a brutal and methodical genocide.

On the other hand, there were some things to celebrate. Australia was the first nation to give women the right to vote. It pioneered the forty hour week, invented the black box flight recorder, ultrasound scanners, the wine cask and many other things. However, when it came to the Aboriginals many had a curious blind spot to their culture and just lately they'd started calling it invasion day to the open disgust of the right wing press. She doubted their 'outrage' when the general practice each year was to get pissed and have barbecues. The Australia Day weekend lasted for about five days, which said more about the practice of getting drunk than patriotism.

It was not the only thing bothering her tonight though. Her outfit consisted of a black pinafore dress over a white blouse open at the neck to the second button. This was her first date with Sarah and she was more paranoid than ever. It wasn't supposed to be a romantic date but even so the underlying subtext of their conversation over the phone suggested that the label platonic date was only there as a guideline and not an actual definition. With that in mind, was the dress too bold? The thin straps crossed over at the back and fastened at the front waistband with buttons, it suggested the slutty schoolgirl, especially with the blouse. She'd thought about a tie but discarded it. She closed her eyes and went over the last thing she'd said to Sarah.

"Look, it's just a night out, nothing more nothing less."

"It's just a night out," she opened her eyes and put her hand on her belly.

And then there was the other thing. She was fifteen weeks and whilst she wasn't showing yet it felt as if she was and in that case, she turned on the stool and looked at herself side on. Shouldn't she wear something that did show she was pregnant?

A gentle knock sounded at her door and she called out.

"What's up?"

"That's your date turned up now, I think. I don't recognise the car," Valerie stepped into the room.

"Oh, has she got black hair?"

"Yeah, a woman, mid twenties or early thirties, so you're wearing that after all?"

"Maybe, you don't think it looks too slutty?"

"Honey, if you think it looks too slutty then you're on the right track. You're not showing yet and it won't become obvious for awhile yet."

"I feel like the slutty schoolgirl going out with my therapist."

"Ex therapist," Valerie corrected her.

"Yeah, she is my ex therapist but I feel like a slut."

"You're not a slut," she sat on the bed, "you're my daughter and none of my daughters are sluts."

"Thanks, mum," she fiddled with her collar, "I nearly wore a tie."

"Maybe not a tie," her mother rose, "wait here, I've got something you can borrow."

She left the room and Susan turned back to the mirror for a final check. She'd done her makeup and her hair, she didn't smell, the outfit was fine, so why was she nervous?

"Because you've taken the first step, you asked her out."

That much was true she rose and walking over to the bed, picked up a white tailored jacket and slid her arms into the sleeves.

So, here you are,she pulled the jacket over her shoulders,doing what comes naturally.

Alastair let Sarah in as she made her way to the master bedroom. Valerie came out and handed her a black and silver brooch.

"Here," she smiled, "I haven't worn it in years, it feels funny now that I've put on weight around my neck.

"Thanks, mum," she looked at it.

The brooch was oval-shaped with a black fake gem in the middle surrounded by silver beading. She fastened her top button and let her mother press the brooch pin into the blouse.

"There," she stepped back, "perfect."

"I've always liked this one," she touched it, "me and Melinda used to wear it when we dressed up."

"I know," she smiled, "if I couldn't find it I knew it'd be in one of the bedrooms."

She followed her mother through to the living room and the low hum of conversation and came to a stop. Sarah looked at her and Susan felt her heart skip a beat. Sarah wore a white silk tie blouse, the blouse had a pussybow tie and a wide placket, tucked into slim fit blue jeans decorated with a black belt and black tailored jacket.

"Susan, how are you? Fancy seeing you here," she smiled.

"Likewise," she took a step forward, "you look... you look... beautiful."

"Thank you, I got changed at work, well the jeans at least," Sarah grinned, "I love the dress and the blouse though."

"Thank you she looked down at herself, "a last minute adjustment."

"Where are you two heading?" Valerie asked.

"The Pig and Whistle," Sarah replied, "it was going to be the Cuckoo but I changed my mind."

"Okay then, well, you two have a great night," Valerie smiled.

"Shall we?" Sarah rose, "lovely to have met you, Alastair."

"Likewise," he grinned.

Susan took a few steps forward, feeling the flush in her cheek as she realised her stepdad had just checked out her date, "see you both later," he grinned.

Susan blinked and nudged her glasses as she spotted the car in the driveway a minute later, it was a cherry red VJ Chrysler Charger and she glanced quickly at Sarah before looking at the car again, it must have been meticulously restored at some point she thought.

"Yeah, it's the only form of rebellion I've got left but I did put it on gas awhile ago. I love the vee eight but I got tired of constantly driving from one servo to the next just to put fuel in."

"Charlene's got a Chrysler, not the same one, hers is a four door and a six."

"If the car bothers you we can take yours?"

"No it doesn't bother me," she smiled, "I was just surprised that's all."

"I bought it as part of my settlement money," she unlocked the passenger door, "the previous owner was an older retired gentleman who wanted to downsize. The mileage was so low that at first I was suspicious, I thought it was doctored," she opened the door.

"But one of my clients saw me in the carpark at work one day and when I mentioned that to her she said he'd been a Sunday driver," she waited for Susan to slide onto the seat.

"He drove it to church once a week and the supermarket another day."

"Oh okay," she replied, "I thought it'd been restored."

"Nope, just well maintained."

She stared at the immaculate interior as Sarah walked around to the other side, it was a four speed manual transmission, the interior was black vinyl and it had a sports wheel with a sheepskin wheel cover. She noted the aftermarket CD player where the radio player had been as Sarah slid behind the wheel.

"So, what kind of engine is it?"

"Three hundred and sixty cubic inch vee eight, I added the CD player."

"Nice car," she replied as Sarah started the engine.

"Thanks, I like my gas guzzler and the rest of my money went on another black hole," Sarah shifted into reverse and released the parking brake.

"My house," she nudged the accelerator.

"Where do you live? I forgot to ask."

"Mooroolbark, the most boring suburb in Melbourne," she put on her seatbelt.

"I wouldn't exactly call it boring, more plain... what CDs do you have?"

"Take your pick from the wallet in the glovebox."

"I've got the Divinyls in at the moment but there's a small selection in there, I've got a CD Rewriter in my computer, handy if you want to copy CDs to play in the car."

"I've been thinking of buying one for awhile," she replied as Sarah reversed into the street, "I was hooked on Napster for awhile but they've gone the way of the dodo."

"I got a few albums that way," she came to a halt and shifted into first gear, "they had so much on their networks, it was amazing. I was like a kid in a candy store, such a fucking shame it's all been shut down by the greedy record companies."

"Yeah," she took out a CD wallet, "it's hypocritical when you consider the money they've ripped off artists over the years."

"Don't get me started on that topic," she accelerated.

"My brother is a copyright lawyer and it's guaranteed that he'll start an argument at Christmas over music," she picked up speed and changed gear.

"Ooh, Smokie, I used to have that album."

"Sure, if you want copies just say which ones," she changed gear.

"And risk upsetting your brother?"

"Oh, absolutely," she grinned. "So," she went on, "what have you decided? I was going to ask over the phone but changed my mind."

"Good job because I changed my mind after your call, I was going to get an abortion but the next day I decided to go through with it, which means making major changes."

"Good for you, if it means anything I'm proud of you."

"It does although it will be small comfort the closer I get to the day."

"Of course, but follow the advice of the doctor to the tee, other mothers might have advice of their own and it's up to you what you listen to. I know nothing about giving birth so don't listen to any of my advice, okay?"

"Okay," she smirked, "that's a relief."

"So, what about the father, have you decided yet?"

"Not yet, there's a moral answer but morality has been responsible for the most horrific crimes in history or maybe it's so called morality," she smiled.

"I must remember that one," she inched forward as the cars started moving.

The Pig & Whistle Tavern is an English-themed restaurant on Mt Dandenong Tourist Road, Olinda, its menu is British with bangers and mash, beer battered hake and chips and other English fare but it also offers Italian food too. Susan had never been here before although the restaurant had only been open since 1991 but she'd been past it many times on her way up the mountain. From the outside it looked like a suburban house with an enclosed beer garden but when they stepped inside she noted the stuffed animals. Some were behind the bar but a large boar's head was above the open fireplace. There was no fire burning this summer night though.