Chapter Ten Clover

Chapter Ten Clover

Wednesday afternoon, December 13, 2023

Clover stared at herself in the window of the piercing studio, her index finger gently brushing the brand-new stud on the

right side of her nose. She hadn’t thought she would actually do it—the idea had occurred to her briefly yesterday, when she’d

gone thrifting, but she was never one to act on impulse. And yet, here she was. Pierced!

Of course, plenty of girls at home had piercings and some even had a few small tattoos, but it wasn’t common, and often those

girls had “history”—minor scandals whispered about in school halls or beyond church walls. Now that they were all reaching

thirty, those scandals were hardly newsworthy, but they had nonetheless cemented them as different.

Clover wondered if that’s what she was now. Different. I didn’t raise you that way, she heard her mother’s voice echo in her ear. She brushed it away with squared shoulders. She was here. She was doing this.

Back at the condo, she grabbed another coffee from Castro Cafécito, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment when she

didn’t run into one particularly frustrating twin. Then she headed back up the elevator, where she saw that the flag on the

little red mailbox outside her door was raised. She pulled down its door. Inside was a rolled-up flyer:

Holiday Makers’ Market

6 p.m. to 10 p.m.

Union Square

“Oh, hey, you’re home!” She heard Dee’s voice behind her.

“Yeah.” Clover smiled. There was something about her neighbor that felt warm and friendly. By her feet was the little escape

artist who had united them the day before, panting lazily as Dee firmly gripped her leash.

“I tried to stop by earlier, but you were out—whoa!” Dee peered closer at Clover’s face. “Is that new?”

Clover blushed and resisted the urge to touch her nose. “Yeah. Just got it a couple hours ago.”

“Looks great!” Dee said. Then she leaned forward conspiratorially. “If you’re also in the neighborhood for some new tattoos,

I know a few people who can hook you up.” She winked and leaned back. Clover chuckled softly.

“One change at a time, I think.”

“Makes sense, makes sense. Sometimes I go a little hard when I’m into things.” She pointed to her right shoulder. “Af ter I got my first tattoo, I decided I should go ahead and get a full sleeve. Hurt like a bitch, but I loved it.” Then she pointed to the flyer in Clover’s hand. “Also! I passed that around weeks ago but wanted to give you a personal invite, since we’re neighbors now. Leilani will be selling her wares there.”

“Oh,” Clover said. She felt guilty for having wanted to crumple the paper and toss it in the bin. If she remembered correctly,

Bee had mentioned something about it in her emails, and Clover had been just as uninterested then as she was now. But her

neighbor looked so earnest that Clover was willing to reconsider.

“No pressure, of course, but if you’re looking for something fun to do tonight, might be worth it.”

“Oh, it’s tonight?” Clover peered more closely at the flyer. She’d been a little tired from the day’s adventures—but one more

event couldn’t hurt. Besides, she liked Dee. She’d spent so much of her life with the same group of people. It was refreshing

to make friends with someone new. Plus, her cousins would want some sort of souvenir from her trip, and she figured it might

be nice to do one holiday thing while she was here. “Sure,” she said finally. “I’ll see you both there.”

“Great!” Dee beamed at her. “Okay, I gotta get this one back inside,” she said, nodding at the still-panting pit bull that

was now lying down. “See you in a bit!”

Clover waved goodbye, and when she got inside, she looked at the small handful of bags she’d acquired from various thrift

shops throughout the city that day. It probably wasn’t much for someone who actually lived in these condos, but for Clover,

it felt like a mix of fortune and promise.

Two days ago, she would’ve thrown on whatever was in her bags and hoped for the best. Hell, two days ago she wouldn’t have even considered going back out with the sun so soon to set. But now? Well, now Clover was feeling a bit more bold.

And she had the clothes to match.

As darkness took hold of the city, she shrugged on her new leather jacket and disappeared among the streets and shops until

she found herself in a cluster of dogs and strollers and outstretched hands holding steaming cups of something sweet, as folks

caught up with friends and chatted up the vendors.

Holiday lights snaked through the trees that surrounded them and popped up as oversize reindeer and angels and a large menorah

that was more than twice her height. Though certainly larger than the holiday markets in Salem, she was surprised nonetheless

by the coziness she felt, here in a city she was certain anyone could disappear into and get lost.

Okay, so maybe she missed celebrating the holidays a little bit. As she traversed the rows of little shops, she could admit to feeling sort of warm and fuzzy and—holy shit, it cost

how much for a sugar cookie? One cookie? What else did they want, the promise of her firstborn child?

Unable to contain her shock, Clover wandered deeper into the tent she’d glanced at, wondering if the chocolate was flecked

with gold and the caramel-covered apples promised ever-lasting youth and glory.

“Are you okay?”

Clover looked up to find a tall Black person wearing a yellow beanie and an oversize sweater vest with a grinning Grinch sewed onto it. They were standing behind the product table and staring at her with apparent concern.

“You look a little... pale,” the person continued.

“Why are these so expensive?” she asked, noticing too late the touch of awe in her voice.

They laughed. “Um... well, it is San Francisco. I think our prices are pretty competitive with the other stuff you’ll find here...”

Clover blushed at the directness of her question and took a step back, realizing that she had been hovering over the peanut

butter–covered pretzels like Columbo trying to solve a mystery. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m visiting from Ohio, and I’m just

not used to prices like these. Not that I think your stuff is over priced...”

“No worries.” The person chuckled again. “The city is expensive. I actually live out by Fruitvale, across the way. It’s a

little cheaper, at least.”

“Yeah,” Clover said. “I’ve noticed it’s a little expensive here. My budget’s had to stay tight for me to feel like I’m having

any fun.”

“Well, here,” the person said. “Have a cookie on me.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“Please. It’s the holiday spirit. Just do me one favor?”

Clover eyed them warily. “What’s that?”

“Go ahead and check out the booth with the redhead. She’s a friend, and she’s selling some dope art.”

“Redhead?” Clover figured there was more than one redhead selling wares at the night market, but Dee had said her wife would be setting up shop tonight. “Her name wouldn’t happen to be Leilani, would it?”

“Yeah! You know her?”

“No, not really. But, um, I met her wife yesterday. Dee? The condo I’m staying in is on the same floor as them.”

“No way! Well, in that case, I’ll walk you over. I’m Mo, by the way. They/them pronouns.” They pointed to a brown-skinned

South Asian woman with short, curly hair farther down the tables beneath their tent, who was packaging up some sweets for

a customer. “That’s Bailey, my girlfriend. She/her.”

Clover shook their hand and then gave a little wave to Bailey, who’d looked up when she heard her name. “I’m Clover,” she

said. “Um, I use she.”

“Dope,” Mo said. They gave their girlfriend a kiss and then guided Clover through the web of tightly packed stalls and fairy

lights. “How long you here for?”

“A couple weeks,” Clover said.

“Visiting friends?”

“No.”

“Family?”

“No.” To their credit, Mo didn’t seem fazed by Clover’s short and increasingly antisocial responses. Still, Clover felt that

things would get awkward real quick if she didn’t offer any information of her own. “I thought it’d be good to take a vacation

from my farm for a bit, on my own. Try some new things, see some new places. This is my first time in San Francisco.”

“A farm?” Mo said. “Oh, you gotta meet my friend Gilly. She runs a farm outside the city—it supplies some of the bougie-ass restaurants around here, actually. Where is—Gilly!” Mo stopped at a booth full of colorfully clothed crocheted creatures and winked at Clover. “This is her side gig.” Then they cupped their mouth and shouted toward an East Asian beanpole of a person wearing an elf’s hat and green combat boots. “Hey, Gilly, this is Clover! She’s from Ohio, and she’s a farmer. She’s visiting San Francisco for a few weeks!” The person Mo had called Gilly looked up and waved. She finished her transaction with two grinning teenagers who were now holding their crocheted gifts to their chests, then came over to greet Clover and Mo.

“It’s Gillian, Mo, and hi, Clover. I’m Gillian. Pronounced exactly like I’ve said, with a juh sound, no matter what Mo says.”

“Gillian,” Mo said, so that the first syllable sounded like gills on a fish.

“I hate you.”

“Hey, Clover,” said a voice behind them, and Clover was a little relieved to see Dee.

“Hi,” she said. She was surprised when Dee gave her a quick hug, but she returned it warmly, just before Mo pulled Dee into

a headlock and rubbed the top of her spiky head.

“Happy holigaaaays,” they sang merrily. “I was just about to show Clover to Leilani’s booth.”

“They wanted to stop and torture me first,” Gillian deadpanned.

“You know it’s your favorite kink,” Mo said.

“Why are you like this?”

“Leilani’s booth is actually pretty packed right now,” Dee cut in, and Clover was once again thankful for the interruption.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Dee’s friends—quite the opposite, in fact. They were just so... different from her own back at home. It was taking her a moment to adjust.

“Packed how?” Gillian asked.

“One of the tech companies here has a setup right next to Lei’s table. I guess they’re trying to do a holiday promotion or

whatever.”

“Gross. Can we get no peace even at Christmas?” Mo sighed dramatically.

“I’m sorry my people cause you so much suffering,” Dee said, rolling her eyes.

“You work in tech?” Clover asked.

“Yeah, most of the people in our building probably do, to be honest. Though not all at the same company. We can still head

over to Leilani’s booth, though. The tech folks have free hot cider.”

“I guess I’m in,” Mo muttered.

“I was talking to Clover,” Dee responded, while Mo covered their heart and pretended to die.

“O-kay,” Gillian said. “Well, I’ve got to man the station here, but you three have fun. It was nice to meet you, Clover.”

Clover barely had time to say, “You too!” before Mo and Dee had ushered her back through the market, toward what was indeed a pretty large and imposing crowd. People were whispering and pushing their phones ever higher. From what Clover could see, they were all standing around trying to get photos of some white man in a full red Santa suit, complete with the white beard. Even the adults were enthusiastic.

“It’s some internet personality,” Dee explained. “In partnership with Vacate.”

“Oh!” Clover said. “That’s the app I used.”

“Makes sense,” Dee said, just as Mo shouted, “Make way! Make way! Lesbians coming through.”

“Why are they like this?” Dee muttered, echoing Gillian, though Clover could see a hint of a grin on her face even as her

own heart stammered in her chest. She wasn’t used to being in a group as... well, “loud and proud” as this. With a bit

more poking and prodding, they were able to make their way through to Leilani’s booth. It managed to still have a few customers,

despite the attention the Vacate booth was taking up.

As Dee went to greet her wife, and Mo went to body slam her or whatever their greeting of choice would be, Clover noticed

that one of Leilani’s patrons seemed awfully familiar.

“Oh, it’s you,” the woman said as she turned in Clover’s direction. Perfect bob, dark brown eyes, an impossibly sultry voice—

Stop it! Clover chastised herself, certain that her brown cheeks were a bright shade of red as Beth quirked an eyebrow at her.

“What are you doing here?” Beth continued.

“I’m... shopping,” Clover responded. “For the holidays.” What the hell else would she be doing there?

“You look different,” Beth said. She tilted her head to the side. “Did you get a nose piercing?”

Clover swallowed. She didn’t know why it bothered her that Beth seemed so perceptive. Dee had noticed too. Still, she felt defensive or... something else she couldn’t place. She touched her fingers lightly to her nose. “I’m not sure how I feel about it yet,” she said.

Beth didn’t respond, her attention back on a collaged painting of a Black woman with long black braids draped in royal purple.

“How much for this?” she asked Leilani.

“The print is a hundred,” Leilani answered. “Six hundred for the original.”

Beth looked back over at Clover, studying her for a moment and in a way that made Clover feel as if she were the painting

Beth was considering. She couldn’t help but hold her breath as Beth’s dark eyes swept over her. “What do you think?”

Clover forced herself to look at the painting, though pulling her gaze from Beth was a task she hated to admit was difficult.

“It’s stunning,” she said. She gave Leilani a genuine smile. “Truly.”

“I’ll think about it,” Beth said to Leilani. Then, without another word to Clover, she turned and walk away. Clover wondered

at her severely underdeveloped social skills. Still, she couldn’t help watching her leave.

“Are you enjoying the market?” Leilani asked her, as Beth walked straight up to the internet Santa at the Vacate booth next door and shook his hand, then continued to greet and chat up the other important-looking people at the booth. Though she wasn’t in business attire this evening, she still looked so remarkably put together: a stylish little brown bag, black boots, black jeans that fit her snugly, and a long black trench coat over a low-cut red tee that hugged her curves. Beth might have been hard to talk to, but dammit if she wasn’t easy to look at.

“Clover?” Leilani asked again, and Clover realized that she hadn’t answered.

“Yes,” she squeaked.

Leilani chuckled and looked toward Beth. “She’s the one who doesn’t live on our floor, right?” she asked Dee.

“Correct. The twin,” Dee confirmed. Then she winked at Clover. “Neither of them is hard on the eyes.”

To Clover’s surprise, Mo didn’t say anything. Instead, they grinned ear to ear and gave Clover a huge thumbs-up. Somehow that

was way worse. “I’ll take you over there,” Mo offered suddenly, and before Clover could think to protest, she was being shuffled

along to the Vacate booth, past a line of agitated-looking fans. “Hey! You’re Beth, right?” Mo asked without preamble.

The cup of cider in Beth’s hand paused at her lips. “Excuse me,” she said to the reindeer-dressed Latino she’d been speaking

to. “Yes,” she said, turning fully to Mo. “And you are?”

“Mo!” They stuck out their hand, and Beth shook it with a tight smile. “This is Clover, you two met earlier, at my friend’s

wife’s art booth. She’s staying in your sister’s Vacate.”

“ You’re Clover?” someone shouted from behind them. Another Black woman with long locs appeared, wearing a silver dress and dangling

gold earrings. “I’m Ayana, Bee’s friend. Do you hug?”

Did she hug? It wasn’t really a question people asked her, but she supposed she wasn’t opposed to it. “Sure,” she barely managed to say before Ayana pulled her in with a strong grip around her waist. It honestly made Clover blush, which was horrifying, because Beth was now looking at her with what seemed to be... a smirk? Clover had yet to see anything resembling a smile on Beth’s lips. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“I am so glad you’re here,” Ayana was saying. “I hadn’t had a chance to reach out yet, but I was planning to check in with

you since—”

“She owns the app,” Beth finished dryly.

“ Since you’re staying at my best friend’s house and you’re new to the city.” Ayana shot Beth a playful glare, and Beth just shrugged

and sipped her cider.

“Ayana loves strangers,” Beth muttered. “Hence the app.”

“Ignore her,” Ayana said with a sigh. “A few of us were actually just about to sneak over to the ice rink they’ve set up near

the menorah. Would you like to join us?”

Without meaning to, Clover looked at Beth, whose perfectly sculpted eyebrow was lifted in appraisal. She was clearly amused

by Clover’s discomfort and curious to see what would happen next. That was interesting, Clover thought. Was Beth the type

of person who reveled in other people’s social awkwardness? If so, did that make her callous? Did Clover care?

Ugh, Beth was frustrating, and Clover didn’t even know why it bothered her so much.

“I’m okay,” Clover said, just as Mo said, “We’d love to!”

Clover widened her eyes at Mo, who just shrugged and winked. Then they bent toward Clover and whispered, “Actually, I gotta get back to my booth. But I’ll send Dee over to chaperone!”

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Clover whispered back, but it was too late. Mo was already jogging back toward Leilani and Dee,

turning only once to give Clover an overenthusiastic thumbs-up.

“Old friend?” Beth asked, and Clover’s heart nearly stopped. She didn’t realize she was so close to her.

“Um, no. New, actually. I just met them tonight.”

“Ah.” Beth nodded thoughtfully. “They seem a bit much.”

At this, Clover bristled and stood up a bit straighter. “I actually think they’re great.”

Thankfully, Ayana returned from wherever she’d disappeared to, just in time to pop a warm cider into Clover’s hand and begin

ushering her and Beth out of the booth, while a few other colleagues followed suit. “Santa Claus is covered and my wife is

already over by the menorah, snagging one of the tables for those of us who don’t know how to skate. Let’s go!”

Before she knew it, Clover was pushed through the crowd again, surrounded by yet another new group of people. When they reached

the table and took their seats, Ayana introduced her to her wife and colleagues. It was fine, Clover supposed, but she really

hoped Dee was actually coming. Of everyone she’d met over the past two days, Dee felt the least like a stranger, and she could

really use a friend to keep her from stumbling over her words, especially in front of Beth.

Not that it mattered, really, since Beth was back on her phone, scrolling or texting or sending emails to important clients.

“Clover, I grabbed you a seven and an eight, if those seem right?” Ayana asked, now laced into her own pair of rental ice

skates as she held up two pairs for Clover to examine. “Do you know how to skate?”

“A little,” Clover said, though that wasn’t entirely true. She’d grown up amid snow and lakes of ice her entire life, and

ice-skating had once been one of her favorite winter pastimes, next to sitting outside the house with her family and Knox,

and laughing with the neighbors.

“I can show you,” Beth said, though her tone sounded as flat as usual, as if she’d already decided that Clover was going to

need a lot of help. Clover pushed her tongue into her cheek and gently plucked one of the pairs from Ayana’s hand.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks.” She was still feeling defensive about Beth’s remarks about Mo and didn’t feel the need to

spend more time with her than was necessary, no matter how hot she was or how good she imagined Beth would smell if she was

pressed up against her. Keep it together, Clover!

She followed Ayana and her fellow Vacate colleagues onto the rink, and smiled as more than a few people stuck to the sides

or tried out their footing like baby giraffes on long legs. Idly, she began to skate backward, making long, smooth strides

on the ice.

“Whoa,” Dee shouted as she and Leilani finally appeared, both skating wobblingly toward her on their rental skates. “You’re

a natural.”

Clover blushed and shook her head, happy to see that her new friends had come to join her. “It’s nothing,” she said.

“You’re joking,” Ayana said from behind her. “ I definitely can’t skate backward. Not without falling on my ass. What else are you keeping from us, Miss Ohio?”

Clover looked around at her small audience, and as she did, she caught Beth’s eyes—just for a moment, before she glanced away,

slowly and methodically lacing up her skates. Well, Clover thought, if the people want a show...

She pushed her heel backward and spun into a wide circle, before coming back to its center and spinning into a tight twirl

like a ballerina. Then she pushed her arms out in front as she floated backward again, her back leg lifted into the air, just

like her mom had taught her. Of course, Mae Mills didn’t have any professional ice-skating experience herself; she’d merely

learned from YouTube videos and hours of detailed review of the Winter Olympics, as a tiny toddler Clover hopped up and down,

begging her mom to teach her how to do what the princesses did on TV. Since Mae didn’t know, she learned it herself and then

taught it to Clover, spending hours on the ice after farm duties were done, before dinner, and between homework, until Clover

felt as beautiful and powerful as any princess.

That’s my baby, her mom would shout from the sidelines. I taught her that!

Suddenly, Clover felt her leg slip. Her vision blurred as tears struck the corners of her eyes, and all at once, she felt

her body tip backward, her arms flailing.

Just as she thought her little show would come to a terrifying end, she felt strong hands grab her waist and her back pressed against a woman’s chest, a sweet scent of jasmine bringing her back to reality. “I’ve got you,” Beth’s warm voice murmured in her ear. Her hands held tightly to Clover’s waist. “Are you okay?”

Clover willed herself to breathe, but she couldn’t remember how to. Her heart was fluttering in her chest. “Yes,” she managed

to croak out.

“Good.” Beth made sure Clover was steady on her feet and then crossed in front of her. “Here,” she said, holding out her hands.

Clover grabbed them, and Beth pulled her forward, keeping her eyes on Clover as she guided her back to the sidelines. Clover

had never had the mere touch of someone’s hands make her vision change, and she was tempted to blame it on the sudden panic

attack she’d just experienced. But she had to admit, seeing Beth’s bright brown eyes stuck on hers, brow furrowed in concern

and concentration, was not helping her feel any more calm or centered. It was, however, making her feel warm, and safe, and

utterly, disastrously confused. She struggled for something to say to break the spell, though her heart screamed at her not

to. “I...” she started. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Beth asked.

“I don’t know.” She blew out a breath and then laughed, finally breaking eye contact. “Thank you. For catching me.”

For the first time ever in recorded history, Beth seemed to get shy. “I saw you lose your balance,” she said with a shrug.

“Were you watching me?” Clover had meant it as a joke, but Beth’s silence made her heart race. Why would she be watching me? Clover was a decent skater, but she wasn’t that good. Unless Beth was looking at her for a different reason, but that couldn’t be...

Her thoughts were cleared with the sudden appearance of a water bottle in her face as Dee, Leilani, and Ayana surrounded her,

peppering her with questions about if she was feeling hot, or cold, or tired, or hungry. When they were finally convinced

that she wasn’t on the brink of death, she looked up to see that Beth had moved away, making small talk with a few of Ayana’s

colleagues, who had come off the ice to congratulate her on her quick reaction.

Soon her friends returned to their normal friendly banter, and Clover willed herself to listen, and to respond, and to enjoy

the company of these new people who seemed so eager to share themselves with her and invest in her well-being. They were kind,

clearly, and full of so much life. A kind of life, perhaps, that she’d never allowed herself to consider. So, she did listen—absolutely. And if her gaze sometimes wandered back over to Beth, who, sometimes, maybe on accident, seemed to look

back at her, Clover’s new friends were kind enough to pretend not to notice.