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“I’m back!” Jen called, stepping through the doorway with an armful of groceries. She tossed her keys and mask down on the little table by the door, and kicked off her shoes. “Char!” she called up the stairs. “Unload the car for me, will you?”
She heard some distant grumbling, followed by reluctant shuffling footsteps on the landing. Satisfied, Jen made her way into the kitchen.
Judy was standing at the kitchen island, elbow deep in the bowl of the upturned stand mixer, kneading furiously. There was flour all over the counter, and all over her—down the front of her dark blue apron, smudged a little across her chin and her cheek. It was a good thing Judy’d tied her hair back or Jen was almost certain it too would have been dusted white.
“Hey,” Judy smiled, looking up as Jen entered, “how was it?”
Judy seemed oblivious to the mess in the kitchen, unbothered by her flour war paint. Instead she looked adorably absorbed in the task at hand, teetering back and forth from heel to tip-toe as she kneaded the contents of the bowl. God she was tiny.
“Gross,” Jen answered, trying to hide her smile as she put the grocery bags down on the floor. She moved toward the sink to wash her hands. “I think this pandemic has brought out the worst in humanity.”
Judy pouted sympathetically, pausing her kneading.
“You should’ve let me go!”
“C’mon Judes,” Jen rolled her eyes, “I’ve gotta be good for something.”
“You’re good for so many things!”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” Jen said, shutting off the tap and drying her hands. She took a seat across from Judy, choosing the stool furthest from the rising flour cloud. “Whatcha makin?”
“Bread!” Judy said cheerfully. She paused for a moment, considering, before scooping the dough out of the bowl and plopping it down on the countertop. She began rotating the ball, pushing the dough against the surface and stretching it back, over and over in a way that made Jen tired just by looking at her.
“Isn’t that thing supposed to do the work for you?” Jen asked, nodding at the stand mixer, its upturned head staring uselessly towards the heavens.
“It is,” Judy said, grunting a little with the effort, “but the first batch didn’t proof so well so I’m trying to give this one a little extra TLC.” She changed tactics, slapping the dough hard against the counter a few times before rotating and rolling in the other direction. “Did you get more flour?”
“I did,” Jen smirked, watching Judy assault the dough, “but I don’t know if this is sustainable Judes.”
“What do you mean?” Judy asked, taking a break to stretch out her fingers.
“The shelves are pretty bare. Apparently you’re not the only one on a baking kick. Next time I’ll be tug-of-warring some mouth-breathing anti-masker for the last packet of yeast.”
“That bad?”
“I think the worst part was the line to be honest.”
“You were gone a long time.”
“Yeah, long enough for you to make two batches of dough apparently.”
“I’ll get better.”
“And I’ll get fat.”
“Jen, you’re beautiful,” Judy said seriously.
“The two aren’t exclusive Jude.”
“I didn’t say they were!”
Jen rolled her eyes.
“What, getting tired of me, Harding?” Judy smiled, batting her eyelashes.
Jen rolled her eyes harder.
“No.”
“No!?”
“You’re making me bread.”
“I’m making all of us bread, thank you.”
“What kind?”
“Honey and oat.”
Jen grinned.
“Like I said, you’re making me bread.”
It was Judy’s turn to roll her eyes.
“You deserve it for going out there.”
“Yes I do,” Jen nodded, pleased with Judy’s concession. “You know, only maybe half of them wear masks, and half of them leave it dangling under their nose. Like what the fuck’s even the point?”
“People are the worst.”
“Oh my god, and some guy shoved me for the last pack of toilet paper!”
“What?!”
“Yeah! The fucker cut me off with his cart!”
“No!”
“Yep.”
“That’s so rude!”
“I know.”
“Aw man, and we’re actually running out of toilet paper!”
“Oh no, I got it,” Jen said.
“What?”
“I shoved him back.”
“Jen!”
“Mommy gets it done.”
“Oh, mommy’s back, is she?” Judy asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Baby, she never left.”
“Oh, well in that case—“
“Uh Judy,” Charlie interrupted, entering the kitchen with the remaining groceries, somehow having managed it all in one trip. He pulled the bags off his arms and wrists, and let them slide down onto the floor. “You said there’d be bread soon. I don’t smell any bread.”
He looked warily at the dough in Judy’s hands.
“It takes time, Charlie. You have to knead it and let it proof, I can show you if you want—“
“Call me when there’s bread,” he said, turning to leave.
Jen shook her head at Judy. “MY BREAD,” she mouthed.
“And stop it with the ‘mommy’ thing!” Charlie called from down the hall. “It’s gross.”
Jen turned back to Judy, incredulous, her expression sending Judy into a fit of laughter, forcing her to set the dough down and step back when she couldn’t bring herself to stop.
She brought her hand up to her face wipe away tears, inadvertently spreading even more flour across her nose and cheek, and at the sight and the circumstances, Jen couldn’t help but laugh along with her.
.
It was early afternoon when Jen could finally smell the bread.
She had spent the better part of the past hour helping Henry rearrange his room in time for his Holy Harmonies Zoom rehearsal. Apparently the current setup wasn’t ideal for honing his very odd but endearing craft.
“Mommy, I need more floor space. There’s not enough room to helicopter.”
So Jen had helped him push his bed into the corner, moved his desk to the other wall. Well, she’d mostly stood and pointed as Charlie did the heavy lifting, but having the vision was the hardest part anyway.
Holding the rehearsals was optimistic on Christopher’s part. It wasn’t like there were going to be any actual performances for the foreseeable while, but it kept Henry busy on Saturday afternoons, and virtually socializing with kids other than Shandy, so it was good for him, probably. At least Judy seemed to think so.
As Jen closed Henry’s door behind her, she heard the rehearsal starting, Christopher’s voice coming through Henry’s iPad.
“Good afternoon everyone. Before we start, I just want to take the time to ensure that anyone who has a pet has closed their door, or is practicing in a space where said pet cannot get in? Yes? We all know what happened last week with Monica’s cat.” There was some assent from the kids. “Monica, is he alright now?” Jen heard a quieter voice mumble something in response. “Oh, oh sweetie. I’m so sorry. Yes, that is hard. Hm. Yeah.” He paused. “Lessons to be learned at every turn it seems.”
Jen cringed as she started down the stairs, grateful for their own current lack of pets.
She shook it off and let her nose lead her the rest of the way, following the warm rising scent of baking bread.
“Jude?” Jen peeked into the kitchen. No Judy.
Jen made her way over to the oven, and remembering that Judy had implored her to not keep opening it whenever she was impatient—“It lets all the heat out! It’s only going to make it take longer!”— Jen responsibly turned on the oven light for a look. The bread seemed like it was almost done, and the timer only had four minutes left, so where was Judy?
Looking out into the backyard, Jen could see the lights were on in the guest house. Judy had probably got caught up painting again, so Jen decided to go get her.
She pulled open the sliding door and crossed the backyard, and was about to knock on the guest house door when she heard Judy talking inside.
“It was so nice talking to you,” she could hear Judy saying, “I hope things are okay in there.”
Jen’s stomach dropped. If fucking Eleanor was calling and trying to take advantage of Judy again, well, she would have another thing coming.
“Judy,” Jen said loudly, rapping hard on the door a few times, “everything okay?” She didn’t wait for a response, and instead roughly turned the handle and practically threw open the door, barging her way inside.
“Jen?” Judy whipped around in surprise. “Hey! Everything’s good! Mrs. Montgomery’s just been showing me her finished drawing.”
Judy was sitting at the desk in front of her laptop, an old woman’s face large on the screen, a face that was most definitely not Eleanor’s, which was now peering intently at Jen, who could feel her cheeks going hot as she remembered what day it was.
Ever since Judy’s art classes had gone virtual, she’d been worried about not being able to give enough individual attention to her students. They had a hard time navigating Zoom as it was, let alone trying to paint on camera.
Judy had proposed one-on-one sessions for anyone who was interested, reasoning that since the residents were mostly confined to their rooms now, it would give them an opportunity to socialize and lift their spirits. Her boss had agreed, and now Judy basically had office hours, on Tuesdays and (oh, right), Saturdays.
“I’m so sorry,” Jen said, slowly backing out of the room, “I didn't mean to—interrupt.”
“No! Jen, it’s okay. Come in!” She turned back toward her laptop, “Mrs. Montgomery, this is Jen!”
“Oh, um—“
“C’mere! Come say hi!” Judy said, waving her over.
Jen awkwardly walked towards Judy, stopping a little behind her chair. She crouched until she could see her face appear in frame, hovering just above Judy’s shoulder.
“Uh, hi Mrs. Montgomery,” Jen said, raising her hand in a half-wave.
“Oh, hello dear,” the woman smiled, adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses, “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Oh, um, you—you too,” Jen said, hoping her smile didn’t look too forced.
“I don’t know what I’d do without this one,” the old woman said, pointing a boney finger in what Jen assumed was meant to be Judy’s direction. “Keeps life interesting for me. Things can get so boring otherwise.”
“That’s—our Judy,” Jen nodded.
Judy looked up at Jen, beaming.
“What’s up?” Judy asked her.
“What? Oh—the oven. It’s um, almost done,” Jen half-whispered, embarrassed to have an audience to their conversation.
“Oh! I’ll be there in just a sec, we were just saying our goodbyes!”
“Okay,” Jen said, “I’ll just—“ she trailed off, nodding towards the door.
“Okay,” Judy grinned, “see you soon!”
“Bye, uh, Mrs. Montgomery,” Jen said, giving her another small wave. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too, dear.”
Jen turned to leave, feeling the old woman’s eyes on her as she went, cheeks still warm from her sudden intrusion.
She was shutting the door behind her when she heard Mrs. Montgomery speak again.
“You were right, dear. She is very pretty. A real looker, that one,” she said, sending Judy into a fit of (embarrassed?) giggles, and a bewildered smile spreading across Jen’s face.
.
“It has to cool, Jen.”
“Says who?”
“Me. The internet. The goddesses of bread.”
“Ugh.”
“We can get our workout in while we wait?” Judy grinned, raising her eyebrows.
“You’re really making me work for this, Judes.”
“It can be a short one today!”
“Ugh, fine. Let’s go get it over with.”
About a month into the world going to shit, Jen and Judy had started doing workouts together in the guest house, on Judy’s suggestion of course.
“It’ll be good for us! We can move the bike down there, motivate each other! It’ll be fun. Plus, exercise is gonna be pretty hard to come by now if we don’t actively make time for it.”
“What about your studio space?”
“It’ll still be studio space! Just with a bike. And some weights in the corner.”
“You wouldn’t mind all that shit in there?”
“You don’t mind all my shit in your room.”
“Yeah but that’s like, clothes and lotions and pillows or whatever, not a giant fucking Peloton.”
“There’s space, Jen. It’s not like I’m still sleeping in there anyway. Plus, I’ve been wanting to get that bike out of our room for so long.”
“You have?” Jen had asked, feeling something in her twinge at the word ‘our’.
“The rest of the room’s so pretty, it just feels out of place! We could put like a little vanity table there instead, or oh—What about a chaise?”
“Okay, calm down Martha Stewart. One thing at a time.”
And so, they’d moved the bike into the guest house, and Judy’d ordered two new yoga mats and some free weights, and most afternoons they’d put aside some time to workout—Jen in her sweats, and Judy in some sort of floral sports bra and leggings combo that looked far too chic to actually be comfortable, despite Judy’s earnest insistence otherwise.
Most days, while Jen put in her time on the bike, Judy laid out her yoga mat on the other side of the room to do her weights routine. She’d start with stretches and then pick up her weights, lifting and curling and lunging and breathing, chatting animatedly with Jen between sets. Most times they’d play music. Judy was working on a playlist for them, adding the non-metal songs that Jen sang along to on the radio, and all their favourite 80s hits.
Maybe Jen kind of liked watching Judy exercise, her brow adorably furrowed as she puffed out little breaths at the end of a particularly difficult set. And if Jen’s eyes lingered as Judy lifted or stretched, or if she found herself watching the muscles in Judy’s arms swell and contract as she curled the weights by her side, it was only because she was impressed—in a completely normal way that friends would be impressed by other friends’ arm muscles.
Sometimes Judy would take a turn on the bike when Jen was finished, and Jen would pop into the guest house shower, returning to lounge on the daybed as Judy finished up, flipping through a magazine as Judy spun, reading some of the best bits out loud.
That afternoon was no exception.
“Why are we still getting Bon Appetit? I thought you said we were boycotting them?” Jen asked, flipping past a two-page spread of an admittedly delicious-looking plate of grilled vegetables.
“We are! Don’t read it!! I meant to cancel the subscription earlier. Can you remind me to do it tonight?”
“I’ll try, but, uh, it’s all mashed potatoes up here,” Jen said, tapping her temple and raising the magazine to show Judy a picture of said potatoes.
“And you say I have lame jokes.”
“You do have lame jokes.”
“But that doesn’t make yours any less lame,” Judy said, slowing her pedaling to a halt and getting off the bike. “Shower time!”
She made her way over to her phone speaker, where Sheena Easton’s Strut had just began playing.
“Nah, keep it going,” Jen said.
“Oh, this was one of my picks though!”
“Yeah, and it’s a good fucking song, Judy.”
“Fuck yeah it is,” Judy grinned, cranking the volume, sending Sheena’s voice blaring through the guest house. Judy began moving to the music and mouthing the words, pointing at Jen at every ‘you’.
Jen couldn’t help but smile at the sheer ridiculousness of post workout Judy attempting a sexy serenade. Judy had two left feet, but her unabashed dancing was endearing as hell, not that Jen would ever admit that out loud or anything.
“GO SHOWER!” Jen yelled over the booming music, reaching out her foot to nudge Judy’s shin as she shimmied toward her. “THE SOONER YOU SHOWER THE SOONER WE CAN EAT BREAD!”
.
“Charlie! Henry!” Judy called from the kitchen, turning her bread loaf out onto the cutting board.
“BOYS!” Jen yelled.
Jen was sitting across from Judy at the counter, waiting impatiently and watching intently as Judy began slicing the bread, releasing a tantalizing stream of delicious-smelling steam.
Jen sighed exaggeratedly, looking up at Judy, who rolled her eyes and offered her the end piece.
“So impatient,” Judy said, shaking her head.
“So good,” Jen replied with her mouth full, breathing out the steam as she chewed.
“Hey Hen,” Judy said, looking up as Henry entered. He took a seat beside Jen at the counter, and Judy set a plate in front of him, sliding the butter in his direction.
“Thanks!” Henry said, spreading butter over his piece.
“Is your brother coming down?” Jen asked.
“I don’t know,” Henry shrugged. He took a bite of the bread, his eyes lighting up immediately. “Mmmm. This is the best one yet, Judy!” he said, giving her a thumbs up as he chewed.
“Thanks buddy,” Judy replied with a smile, buttering her own piece and taking a bite.
“It’s so good, Judes,” Jen echoed, reaching for more. “CHARLIE!” Jen called again. She received no response. “Ugh, he’s probably got those headphones on,” she said, swinging her legs over the stool to stand, “I’ll go get him.”
“No, no, I got it,” Judy said, coming out from behind the counter, squeezing Jen’s shoulders as she pushed her gently back into her seat, “I’ll go. You sit, eat.”
“Judy—“
“I’m already halfway there!” Judy called from the hall.
Jen shook her head, marvelling at just how good Judy was to her. It was too much, really. Far too much. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve someone as nice as Judy in her life.
(And someone who could bake, no less; the bread was fucking incredible.)
“How was rehearsal, boop?” Jen asked, reaching for the butter knife.
Jen listened as Henry gave her the highlights, including a rather graphic description of what happened with Monica’s cat. He told her about all the new moves Chris was teaching them, and gave her a preview of the Christianized ABBA medley they were working on.
As she listened to Henry’s sweet excitement, her mouth full of delicious bread, knowing that the other half of her family was just upstairs and would be joining them soon, Jen felt an overwhelming warmth spread through her, a warmth she recognized maybe for the first time in her life as real, genuine contentedness.
Adapting to pandemic life had been such a big adjustment for them—for the whole world of course—but for Jen, it was the first time since meeting Judy that she didn’t feel like she was running from something.
There were no more dead-exes to deal with, no more cops on their trail. They’d long since recovered from their own hit and run injuries. Now, it was just her family at home, sheltering together from the rest of the world.
She was relieved to be on the other side of it all, content with life at this particular standstill. She had her boys and they all had Judy. Her family was okay and together.
She felt a little guilty for feeling that way at a time like this, when the world was plagued with danger and uncertainty.
Jen knew that others weren’t nearly as lucky as her own family, that the fact that they had their home and stability and each other was more than a lot of people could say. She knew she was lucky, and felt it too. Especially coming off of the last few years, knew she was in no place to take it all for granted.
Of course, Jen was worried about the state of the country, about what the pandemic meant for their future, what it would all mean for the boys with Charlie’s college applications and Henry’s need for structure and stimulation. Jen herself had less and less work every week, making Judy the only one with a steady income for the time being. And with case numbers rising in California, she recognized that even though they were safe and healthy now, that could all change quickly if they weren’t careful. (They would not be going anywhere near Lorna, who was still posting pictures on Facebook of her lunching with her creepy friends.)
Things were actually pretty far from perfect, but somehow, it all felt manageable when she had Judy to talk it through with, when she had Judy to distract her with bread and workouts and her never-ending Judy-sweetness.
Judy just had a way about her that made all the terrible things better.
2020 would’ve been a whole different beast without her.
“Why are Judy and Charlie taking so long?” Henry asked Jen, breaking her out of her reverie. “Judy went to get him,” he checked his dinosaur watch, “seven minutes ago!”
“I’ll go check on them, boop,” Jen said, kissing the top of Henry’s head as she went.
Why were they taking so long?
Making her way upstairs, Jen could hear Judy and Charlie talking in his room. Their voices sounded serious, so Jen crept up slowly, stopping a little further down the hall.
“You could send her something? Order a gift to her house?” Judy was saying.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Or you could even try distance visiting? We can pick up some flowers and wear our masks and you can leave them at her door and talk to her from the lawn?”
“I guess,” Charlie sighed. “It just, like, sucks you know? We were getting closer and I was seeing her like every day at school, and now I can’t even touch her. It just—it sucks.”
“I know, Charlie. I’m so sorry.”
“I just wanna be with her, you know?”
“I know. I know how hard this must be for you. I can’t even imagine...” Judy trailed off.
“Not being able to be with mom?” Charlie offered.
Jen froze in place in the hallway, listening for Judy’s next words.
“What? No—I mean, yes, but—not like that, it’s not the same,” Judy fumbled.
“Judy, come on.”
“What?”
“You guys are like, not subtle at all.”
“Not subtle? I don’t—Charlie, whatever you think is going on with me and your mom,” she paused, switching angles, “there’s nothing going on between me and your mom.” She was quiet for a moment. “But I mean—yeah. I can’t imagine not being able to get through this with her. I don’t think I could get through it without her.”
“So you understand.”
“I—Yes, I understand,” Judy agreed.
“It’s just been really hard. I miss her.”
“Then let's do the distance visit thing, okay? And if you don’t want me to cramp your style I can drive around the block while you guys talk! Just make sure to keep the distance! And keep the masks on.”
Charlie sighed.
“Yeah, okay. Sure,” he said. “But only you, no mom. And if the fucking pandemic didn’t postpone my driver’s test indefinitely, no one else would be coming with me at all.”
“Of course,” Judy said, “understood completely. Let me know when you wanna do it, okay?”
“Okay,” Charlie said. “Uh, thanks by the way.”
“Of course! Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s uh, good that you’re here. For mom I mean.”
“Thanks Charlie,” Judy said, “but I think I’m definitely the one getting the best deal here.”
They were quiet for a moment.
“There’s really nothing going on with you guys?”
“No,” Judy laughed, but it sounded different, a little off-key. “There isn’t.”
“Well, there should be,” Charlie said matter-of-factly.
“Char—“
“You know, it was never like this with her and our dad. You actually make her happy.”
“Charlie, I—“
“You know she likes you, right?”
Judy didn’t respond.
“And it’s so fucking obvious that you like her.”
“Charlie—“
“Me and Henry have been waiting for you guys to tell us that you’re together.”
“But—We’re not.”
“Okay,” Charlie laughed, “sure.”
“Really,” Judy insisted, her voice wavering a little.
“So, you’re sleeping in her room, why?”
“I—she offered!”
“And what the fuck’s with all the flirting then?”
“We’re not—Charlie!” Judy huffed. “Come on, your mom and Henry must be waiting for us.”
Jen heard Judy rising and heading towards the door. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, Jen quickly tiptoed downstairs and rejoined Henry at the counter, trying her best to keep her composure.
“Sorry we’re late,” Judy said, leading Charlie into the kitchen a moment later, “hope you two didn’t finish all the bread without us!”
“We didn’t!” Henry insisted.
“I’m not worried about you, bud, but honey and oat’s your mom’s favourite, so I wouldn’t put it past her,” Judy smiled, her expression only a little strained.
Jen saw Charlie shoot Judy a knowing look, and pretended not to notice her quickly mouth “STOP IT” back at him.
Judy slid onto the stool beside Jen, and helped herself to another piece of bread before offering some to Charlie.
“What took you guys so long?” Henry asked Judy.
“Oh, um—“
“Judy was reading over my paper for school,” Charlie said, his tone completely even. He took a large bite of his bread. “Bread’s really good Judy,” he said, nodding with his mouth full.
.
That night, as Jen waited for Judy to join her in bed, aimlessly flipping through channels as Judy brushed her teeth in the bathroom, her mind kept drifting back to Charlie and Judy’s conversation, and the assumptions her sons had somehow made about the nature of her and Judy’s friendship.
Charlie had sounded awfully fucking confident that she and Judy were together, and apparently Henry agreed with him. Sure, she and Judy were close, but together? What the fuck?
She and Judy were just really, really good friends—best friends, as childish as the designation seemed. The boys probably just didn’t know what strong, adult female friendships looked like (truthfully, neither did Jen before Judy), and had mistaken friendly love and support for something more.
Maybe Judy dating Michelle had given them the wrong idea. And the fact that neither she or Judy had dated anyone else since probably hadn’t helped. But Jen had thought the boys knew better, knew that just because Judy was queer and she and Jen were close, it didn’t mean that Jen—
Well, Charlie and Henry had certainly been making a lot of assumptions if this was the logical conclusion they’d come to.
Maybe she and Judy were closer than most friends were, but they’d been through so much together, how could they not be? Did their friendship really look like something more from the outside?
Sure, Judy lived with them and cooked their meals and helped out around the house (well, she ran it, really). Sure, she’d become a fixture in their lives who they all relied on, for help and support and company.
And yeah, Jen had made everything half Judy’s now—the house, the boys, their life—and made sure everyone else knew it. But that was just because it was Judy, and she was part of their family now—an important, integral part. It just wouldn’t make sense if it wasn’t all half Judy’s.
So what if she and Judy spent a lot of time together, if they would hang out pretty much whenever they weren’t working? That was just because Judy fucking lived with them! Who else was Jen supposed to hang out with? Why would she want to hang out with anyone besides Judy, anyway?
Judy was great. Judy was fucking awesome. She was quite literally the only thing keeping Jen sane most days, the only person able to ground her and calm her down. And Jen fucking liked spending time with Judy. Judy made everything better, made the shitty things bearable and the not-shitty things so much more fun.
And Jen had only asked Judy if she wanted to start sleeping in her room because she knew how much more comfortable her bed was than the one in the guest house, and Judy spent so much time in the main house that it felt almost cruel to send her back out all the way across the yard every night to sleep somewhere else for no good reason.
They both slept better in the same bed anyway, and this way when Judy had nightmares, or Jen’s back was acting up again, they were already there to help each other, just in case Judy needed Jen or Jen needed Judy.
The guest house was just so damn far.
And sure, she loved Judy, would tell her as much and not be surprised when Judy said it back. She knew that they probably loved each other more than most friends did. But there was nothing ‘going on’ between them. Why would the boys think that?
(Jen was starting to realize exactly why they might think that.)
But it was still completely ridiculous for them to make those assumptions, because of one glaringly obvious fact. At the end of the day, despite how they acted or appeared to other people, the fact remained that Jen wasn’t—Well, she wasn’t gay!
“You know she likes you, right?” Charlie had asked Judy.
What the fuck did he think he knew?
Sure Jen had noticed how attractive Judy was, that wasn’t really up for debate.
Judy had nice hair and warm eyes and soft skin and a pretty smile and looked fucking adorable in her little fucking flowy dresses, but none of that was like, subjective opinion. Anyone with eyes could see that Judy was beautiful. Thinking Judy was pretty didn’t mean she was gay.
Jen was almost 50, if she were even a little bit gay she’d have known it by now, and it wouldn’t’ve taken her fucking 16-year-old to point it out.
Judy being fucking gorgeous was just a fact. She was just one of those women it was impossible not to stare at.
Jen heard the tap shutting off in the bathroom, followed by Judy cursing lightly under her breath. The door opened and Judy stepped out, looking a little sheepish.
“Okay, don’t laugh,” Judy said, shutting the bathroom door behind her, “but my sleeve rolled back down when I was washing my face and now it’s completely soaking wet. Like, ‘I rang it out and it’s still dripping’ soaking wet.”
“Well, that’s what you get for dressing up to go to bed,” Jen smirked, watching Judy cross the room in her little yellow floral robe, the sleeve a much darker shade than the rest.
Judy pulled out another robe from the drawer, a peach one with pink flowers.
“You don’t like my pajamas?” Judy asked, turning away from Jen and facing the wall. She peeled off the yellow robe, left only in a pair of little satin shorts, and Jen felt herself freeze in place at the sight, transfixed by the toned muscles in Judy’s back and shoulders, the dimples at the bottom of her spine, the soft curve of her hips, the smooth skin of the back of her thighs. Judy moved to pull on the dry robe, shifting a little to the side, and Jen felt a jolt of something in her as she caught the tiniest peek of— “Jen?”
“Hmm?” Jen managed as Judy turned around, tying the robe shut around her waist.
“You don’t like them?” Judy asked.
“I—what?”
“My robes!”
“No, I—I like them,” Jen said, swallowing.
It was completely normal for your heart rate to pick up when your platonic live-in best friend who’s helping you raise your kids and sleeps in your bed starts changing in front of you, right?
Judy kicked off her slippers and set them down beside Jen’s, shutting off the main light in the room, leaving on only the bedside lamps.
Jen watched as Judy crawled up the bed to join her, settling herself back against the headboard beside Jen, angling her body towards her in a way that made the fabric loosen around her shoulders, letting her collarbone peek out, her cleavage far more prominent than usual.
Uh.
Those weren’t like, especially gay things to notice, right?
(Jen was becoming less sure by the second.)
“You okay, Jen?” Judy asked sincerely, adjusting the pillows behind her, earnest concern in her eyes.
Jen took a deep breath, and for the first time ever, let herself really look at Judy—at her pretty face with her high cheeks and her adorable nose, at the sweet lines around her smile and her soft pink lips, at the warm honey of her eyes—all the beautiful parts of her that had become so close and familiar that Jen had maybe been taking them for granted.
Judy was just always there now, close enough to talk to at any hour of the day, always close enough to reach out for.
Maybe Jen had been taking Judy’s closeness for granted, just assuming that she’d always be there beside her whenever she wanted or needed her, which was, well, often, to say the least.
And suddenly Jen was very aware of the fact that Judy had settled herself farther away from her than usual, that the gap between them in bed wasn’t close enough for Jen to hold Judy’s hand or play with Judy’s fingers like she’d been doing now for months without ever thinking through what wanting to touch her meant.
Suddenly, Jen was so very aware of the fact that there was too much space between them now for her to rest her palm on Judy’s thigh or for Judy to loop her arm through hers, the distance between them too large for her to really smell Judy’s shampoo, to smell the amber and rain and something like cinnamon that seemed to always emulate from her skin.
And Jen was struck with the realization that she really, really liked when Judy was close enough to touch and to smell, when she was close enough to feel the warmth that radiated from her, that Judy was all softness and goodness and love, and ‘home’ wouldn’t be home without her.
And then Jen remembered the fluttering that had flooded her that day a few weeks back, when Judy’d reached up on her tiptoes and pecked her on the cheek as a ‘thank you’ for something Jen couldn’t even remember now. But she remembered the fluttering. She remembered not being able to stop smiling that day.
Fuck. Was she in love with Judy?
“Jen? Are you okay?” Judy repeated, her concern etching deeper, still way too fucking far away for Jen’s liking.
(Maybe she was in love with Judy.)
“Mhmm,” Jen answered with a tight lipped smile.
“Okay,” Judy responded slowly, not seeming convinced in the slightest. Judy’s eyes roamed Jen’s face for a long moment, searching. She took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”
“Um, sure,” Jen responded, surprised at Judy’s ready change of subject.
“Is it weird that I’m here?”
“What?”
“Is it weird that I’m here? Like, here here, in your bed in your room in your house, here?”
It seemed like Charlie’s words had gotten to her too.
“Jude, it’s your house too.”
“No, I know. I know, I just—“ she paused, “you’d tell me if I were overstepping right?”
“Overstepping?! Judy, I—”
“Because I can start sleeping in the guest house again! It’s no trouble, really—”
“No!” Jen interjected, panicked, and probably too forceful than was warranted. “No, I—I like that you’re here.”
“Are you sure?” Judy asked, her voice soft and wavering.
“Oh my god Judy, yes I’m sure!” Jen reached out her hand to Judy, who scooted closer to accept it, her warm eyes deep and grateful, her knee brushing Jen’s under the blankets, and Jen immediately felt better.
“Okay,” she smiled softly, “if you’re sure.” She nestled a little against Jen’s shoulder, her frame seeming to relax with the proximity, and suddenly Jen remembered what Charlie’d said to Judy, what Judy hadn’t denied, what had, if Jen remembered correctly, sent Judy into a flustered spiral, that ended with her mouthing ‘stop it’ at Charlie across the table.
“And it’s so fucking obvious that you like her.”
Judging by the sated expression on Judy’s face now, and looking back at the past few months (or the past few years), at everything Judy’d done for Jen and her boys, at everything Judy was so ready to do, Jen couldn’t deny that Judy having feelings for her too was at the very least a possibility.
And suddenly it all came flooding back to Jen, Judy’s compliments and flirty little lines, the fact that she’d do anything for them, the fact that she was still there.
Jen’s brain was moving a mile a minute, the gears spinning and turning and clicking, and suddenly everything made so much more sense.
Judy’d spent her whole fucking day making Jen’s favourite bread.
How could Jen have been so fucking stupid?
“Judes,” Jen started, gripping Judy’s hand a little tighter, the weight of the possibility of the moment only propelling her forward, “you know I couldn’t do this without you, right?”
“Do what?” Judy asked, her eyes softening, a smile spreading across her face.
“Everything. All of it. Life.”
“Jen—“
“You know I love you, right?” Jen asked, the words pouring out before she could stop them or qualify them or say what they really mean.
“I—I love you too.” Judy looked confused. “What’s all—is everything okay?”
“Yeah, Jude,” Jen said, searching Judy’s face and finding the love there, bared and unabashed, full and unmistakable.
And all of a sudden, Jen just really wanted to kiss her.
Jen’s eyes flicked down to Judy’s lips and back up again, and Judy caught it, her expression suddenly growing serious, her eyes wide and shining, her lips parted a little in surprise, but she wasn’t pulling back—she was anticipating, hovering there and waiting to see what was going to happen next.
And so, Jen kissed her.
Judy only faltered for a second before responding, a little shocked at the sudden contact, but when her mind caught up, when she started kissing her back, Jen could tell Judy’d been waiting on her.
Judy kissed her like she was relieved, returning the gentle pressure with baited desperation, trying (and failing a little) to let Jen lead. Jen could feel Judy melting into her, could feel the tension in Judy’s body dissipate as she brought her hands up to wind through Jen’s hair, holding her there as she kissed her back, returning every brush and graze eagerly, gratefully.
Judy’s lips were soft and sweet against Jen’s, so much softer and sweeter than any others she’d kissed before, and so, so much better.
They pulled back, a little breathless, far enough only to rest their foreheads against one another’s, and Judy let out a delighted little sigh, Jen’s head spinning with the delirious understanding that she’d been wanting Judy like this for so much longer than she’d realized.
“Oh my god,” Judy breathed, placing her hand over Jen’s and holding it against her cheek. “I’ve been hoping for so long, but I never thought—I wasn’t sure if you—“
“I think I’ve been really fucking stupid.”
“What do you—“
“I think I’m in love with you, Judes,” Jen said, “and apparently I’m the last one to know.”
“You—What?” Judy smiled, her eyes shining, a bewildered smile wide spreading across her face.
“I’ll explain later,” Jen said, “but for now, could I—can I just kiss you again?”
Judy nodded enthusiastically, readily closing the distance between them, kissing Jen harder this time, and Jen let her set the pace, enjoying the feeling of Judy’s soft, eager lips on hers. She tasted like toothpaste and Judy.
She hooked an arm around Judy’s waist as she kissed her, pulling her closer, almost into her lap, Judy’s arms coming to rest behind Jen’s neck, and Jen could feel a warmth in her chest, a fluttering like all those weeks ago when Judy’d kissed her on the cheek, but so much stronger now, so much better because now she finally understood it, now that she actually knew what she’d been wanting.
There was a lot to unpack, a lot to talk about. Jen’s mind was still catching up. But for now, here, kissing Judy, she was content just to be. To slow down time and be here with her, to reevaluate what needing means.
Judy pulled back just a little, her hand coming to rest against Jen’s cheek.
“I’m definitely in love with you too, by the way,” Judy said, “if that wasn’t already obvious.”
Jen smiled, shaking her head.
“Honestly, until today—“
“Mommy?” came Henry’s voice, the bedroom door suddenly swinging open, sending Judy scrambling out of Jen’s lap. “Oh, sorry,” Henry said, covering his eyes with his hand. “Can one of you close my window for me? The neighbour’s dog is barking again,” he stepped back into the hallway, still covering his eyes. “Charlie!” Henry called, “you were right! I saw them kissing!”
Jen sighed, bringing her hand to her forehead, Judy looking from Jen to Henry and back again, her expression crossed somewhere between incredulity, embarrassment, and amusement.
“I told you not to go in their room at night unless you wanna be scarred,” came Charlie’s voice from down the hall, his footsteps getting closer. His arm appeared in the bedroom doorway, and quickly pulled the door shut. “Come on Henry, I’ll close your window.”
“SORRY MOM! SORRY JUDY!” Henry’s voice called, getting quieter as he and Charlie headed down the hall.
Judy looked to Jen, apologetic.
“We should—I can correct them,” Judy said, moving to get out of bed.
“It’s fine,” Jen said, placing her hand on Judy’s arm to stop her, shaking her head. “Let them think what they want. They’re way better at this shit than we are.”