Chapter 20

Jane

Jane was the type of woman who couldn't easily define words like "love." But when she heard Caitlyn's state called on national television, she not only squeezed Rebecca's hand, but she broke their contact to emphatically clap for the woman she had married – twice.

To be fair, Rebecca was clapping harder. Nobody had the chance to hold hands!

"Oh, my God." Rebecca covered her mouth as the auditorium quieted during the next commercial break. The contestants who didn't make the top ten were ushered off the bleachers and into the backstage. Caitlyn and the other semifinalists were arranged for the interview portion of the finals. "She fucking did it."

"That's our girl," Jane said.

She wasn't sure what else she had to say. Of course Caitlyn did it. Of course she showed everyone in America that she was one of the most beautiful, most interesting married women in their fair nation. When I think of American women, don't I think of Caitlyn? Jane had known many before meeting her future wife. Hell, she had slept with her fair share in those years of traveling between university and settling down to work.

But Caitlyn? She had been more than a beautiful blond with luscious curves that Jane saw in America more than anywhere else. She had been vivacious. Witty. Charming enough to single herself out in a threesome.

And I married her. Who was the lucky one?

Rebecca grabbed Jane's hand. "What if she wins?" she asked. "What happens if Caitlyn has to spend the next year being a badass in nursing homes and orphanages?"

"Wait, are orphanages a thing in this country?" Jane asked.

Rebecca ignored that, although it now nagged Jane enough she looked it up on her phone while her girlfriend talked. "We may only see her for half the month. Do you think they'd let me travel with her, or is only her legal spouse allowed to go? Jane, could you divorce Cait so I can marry her? I wanna be the First Lady of pageantry."

"Sounds expensive, love." Jane confirmed that orphanages had been exchanged for the illustrious foster care system and put her phone away. "Divorce, especially from Cait, is expensive. Ask me how I know."

"Would've been cheaper from me."

"That's the thing about Cait, you know. She steps up when people need her."

The grin faltered on Rebecca's face. "Is that a jab at me?"

"No, love." Jane squeezed her hand. "It's an exultation of Caitlyn."

She did think about that, though. Two years ago, when Rebecca had cold feet at the city hall altar, Caitlyn was the one who stepped in and remarried Jane to help her secure her credentials to stay in the country she now called home. Forever stuck here, because of my love for these two. Ah, there were worse places to die if it meant being surrounded by some of the loveliest women in the world. Her family may tease Jane for her adoration of American women, but had anyone looked at them lately? The sweet and compliant Rebecca, whose fingers rubbed the length of Jane's knuckles as they watched the pageant from the live audience?

And the cheerfully sultry Caitlyn, who strutted across that stage looking like an old Hollywood starlet?

If there is one thing the United States can do… Jane sighed, so focused on Caitlyn's distant outline that she didn't realize her niece was talking on the other side of her. It's made the finest women I've ever known.

"What, love?" she finally asked Cecelia, who had been attempting to get her aunt's attention. "Enjoying the show?"

Cecelia passed Jane her phone, which contained an animated text from Lilian written in Cantonese. "Waaa! Such a beautiful woman! Be sure to congratulate her later, sweetie! She works so hard to get where she is!"

"Your mother has a way with words," Jane said.

"I don't get it." Cecelia was back to texting someone else. "Sometimes I think she has a crush on Caitlyn."

"Because she does."

Cecelia wrinkled her nose. "What?"

"Oh, please. Your mom and I have more in common than the same parents."

"What?"

She's kidding me, right? Cecelia was almost sixteen. Was she somehow not aware that her mother was having a long-term affair with her BFF Olivia? The woman Caitlyn and Jane used to live with when they were in Hong Kong?

"Do you think your mother loves your father? Come on. He has already been old enough to be our father. Actually, he is the same age as your grandfather." Jane wistfully grinned at the lights shining above her. "Your mother has forged her own path since your brother was born."

"What?"

"You know your auntie Olivia? Your mother's best friend?"

"Um… yeah. She used to be like…" Cecelia pointed a shaky finger at her aunt. "Your…"

"Like I said, your mother has the same taste in women that I do. She'd steal Rebecca from me too if she could."

"What?" Rebecca asked, distracted from her animated conversation with Christine, who told everyone else around her that Caitlyn was her daughter.

"Nothing, love. Just explaining to Cece that her mother is bisexual."

"Oh, uh… good luck with that."

Cecelia dropped her phone into her lap. "You are fucking with me."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Jane pointed her chin forward. "Consider this my ‘mic drop' moment of the night. Oh, shh! They are coming back from commercial!"

She let Cecelia stew in that while the host explained the next portion of the program. He would briefly introduce the ten finalists in the order they were announced and ask them a question about a current topic. Their answer would be scored accordingly.

Jane leaned over to whisper into Rebecca's ear. "How much do you want to bet that the one in the fat pink dress trips before the end of her interview?"

"What are we betting?" Rebecca hissed back.

"The winner gets to decide supper for a week."

Rebecca giggled. "I will take that bet. I think she's got herself sorted out by now. By the way, you know what she's dressed as, right?"

"I may not know everything Hollywood's produced in the past century, but I am quite aware of one of the biggest movies of all time and its relation to the forgettable state of Kansas."

"Girls!" Christine hissed at them. "I'm trying to hear!"

Rebecca shrank in her seat while Jane mimicked zipping her mouth shut. While their hands remained intertwined on the armrest between them, Jane politely watched while Mrs. New Mexico explained her thoughts on the First Amendment and how it applied to schools. To her credit, she gave such an elegant answer that she could have said, "Oh, burn them all down and start over again," and Jane would have given her the award. It is all in the delivery. Trust me. Caitlyn had said as much over the years.

"Here we are, halfway through our top ten!" the host exclaimed when he made it to Caitlyn, whose beautifully made face appeared on the large screens hanging over the audience. She laughed at the host's joke. Look at that radiant smile. Sure, Jane knew that Caitlyn's smile was already bought and paid for by the time they met, but Caitlyn knew how to use it. Wasn't that the same smile that entranced Jane at the hotel bar where they first flirted?

I wanted to see that smile every day.

…And thrust between those glorious thighs every night, but Jane was a woman of super complex duality.

"Now, you have come out of retirement for this pageant, haven't you?" The host waited for Caitlyn to accept the stage mic before continuing. "You have been in over twenty pageants before, starting when you were in middle school! How wonderful. What made you retire several years ago, and what has brought you back to represent Iowa here at the Mrs. United States of America pageant?"

Caitlyn answered as if she knew the question ahead of time. No, she's smart enough to anticipate it.

"It was fate, really," she said. "All of it. When I originally retired, I had been doing this for quite a while and was at a point in my young life when I was ready to take on a new challenge, go down a fresh path. That was around the time I met my wife Jane."

Oh, God, Jane, brace yourself, girl.

Caitlyn had warned her that a camera might be on her if Iowa made it to the top ten. "We're a bit of a novelty at this pageant, I think," Caitlyn had explained at dinner Friday night. "They like to show the family in the audience, but with them knowing you're a woman, they won't waste the opportunity. Good or bad, it creates a reaction, and that's good for ratings. Let's practice your smile!"

Jane had some practice of her own. Back when she was a girl in Hong Kong and her mother made her look the part whenever they attended a garden party or, god help Jane, church.

So there she was, suddenly on the screen with a camera hovering over her head as it passed on a railing hanging from the ceiling. The only thing Jane regretted was immediately untangling her hand from Rebecca's because they had all agreed to keep their polyamorous life out of this.

"What a lucky woman she is," the host said. "How long have you been married?"

"That's a bit of a trick question, because this is the second time Jane and I have been married, although we've been together in between, too." When everyone around her either whistled or gaped at such candidness, she continued, "We've been in love for so long that the years beautifully run together at this point."

"Isn't that something?" the host asked the camera. "You're the only contestant here who is currently married to another woman, truly putting a new spin on Mrs. United States of America. Which brings us to the question I have for you tonight, Caitlyn." He paused to give her a moment to refocus her attention. "In the year 2024, what place do you think a married woman has in American society?"

Rebecca's hand was over her mouth again. Jane had a feeling that question hadn't been in their practice arsenal.

"Glad that ain't me," Cecelia muttered, still looking at her phone.

Or me. Jane would look like an arse trying to answer that. Caitlyn, though?

Maybe Caitlyn had this.

"I doubt there isn't a woman out there who hasn't thought about this," she said. "I know that, for myself, the mere act of being married to anyone instantly brands us in ways that have been part of our consciousness since we were little girls. Naturally, I always imagined myself growing up and marrying Prince Charming, because I had no other frame of reference outside of my parents' lovely marriage. But I saw the way my mother loved my father, the way they worked as a team to create a good life for their children, how they delegated in ways that were unique for their generation while also cultivating mine. By the time I fell in love, I knew I wasn't going to marry a man, but I also never knew I was going to marry a woman. But it felt exceptionally right. To really answer the question, the role of married women in the current climate is as it has always been: to create a framework that allows us to work as a team. Our marriages are microcosms in the general American life. Failure or success speaks to how our current state of affairs is in this country. The mere fact that I could decide to never marry at all speaks volumes. The fact that I could marry a woman from another country has always felt exceptionally American to me, or at least the perception of America that I grew up with in her heartland. We are independent women through and through, and part of being independent women who participate in the economy, pay our taxes, and lead the next generation is deciding who we want to marry and who we team up with to forge our identities within our communities. I wouldn't be where I am or who I am today if it weren't for my wife. While I will wholeheartedly say that I would be as valid as an American citizen whether I was married or single, there is something unique about domestic partnership that is always malleable and forever a boon to our society. How married women feel is an excellent barometer for how we're doing as a country. So, I think that part of our place in American society is to show what can be done, what has been done, and what we will accomplish if allowed to live in peace and cultivate what happiness and productivity means to us."

If she had taken a breath during her monologue, Jane certainly hadn't heard it.

"Wow," the host said over the applause. "There you have it, everyone. Mrs. Iowa here to tell America that there is still a place for married women and how valuable you all are, however your marriage manifests!"

Jane carefully studied the faces of the other women standing with Caitlyn on the stage. Most had poker faces, but some like Mrs. Ohio smiled through gritted teeth. That was how Jane gauged that Caitlyn had given a good answer because as far as she was concerned, a lot of that was word salad. Tasty word salad, but Caitlyn knows how to talk around people and make them feel something. Now Jane understood it came from the pageant days.

One by one, women filed off the stage to change for the talent portion of the evening. Once they gauged it was probably safe, Jane and Rebecca took each other's hands again, grateful that nobody had asked Caitlyn about her actual home life.

"How does her mum think she's doing?" Jane asked Rebecca.

"She got all teary over the married women question."

"She understood all that bollocks?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Maybe it wasn't British enough for you."

"I doubt I'd understand it in proper English either, love. You have to say it in Cantonese with a decidedly Confucian flair that makes me want to bang my head against the wall while my mother sagely nods and tells me once again this is what makes me a failure as a daughter."

"Doesn't she say that about all her kids?"

"Gasp! Even my brother? You're forgetting that at least Bart married and had a son!"

"I clearly don't know enough about Confucianism."

"Count your blessings, love. It's a little heterocentric. Patriarchal, you might say. In the good old days, my brother would rule my life the moment my father goes tits up."

"You'd have been married off first."

"She does know something about it! Good thing I am already married, as all of America knows now."

"Don't worry, pretty sure this show doesn't even pull in a million viewers. If that."

"Now I'm offended. Shouldn't everyone enjoy our gracious Cait?"

They sat through a handful of two-minute segments showcasing a myriad of talents, from singing to an impressively quick French lesson to a tumbling act from the fair Mrs. Kansas who showed up in a red, white, and blue leotard and pigtails. Someone elect her, please. That was how this worked, right? Democratic process?

Caitlyn shared that she wrote an original piece to perform for her talent. When she appeared on the stage dressed in a pair of black leggings and a turtleneck, Jane had to contain a guffaw at the thought of her wife looking like a beatnik poet. With her hair tastefully pulled back into a slick ponytail and her makeup minimal, she perched atop a stool in front of a mic on an otherwise empty stage.

"Do you know what she wrote about?" Jane asked while the host introduced Caitlyn's talent portion of the night. "Because I did not even know she was a writer. I don't think she has ever written something around me."

"She likes to dabble, you know."

"Does she now?"

"How is it I have this knowledge of her but you don't? Is it because you don't pay attention, Jane?"

"How very dare you. I will let you know I learn at least one thing about her a year. Just do not ask me what."

Rebecca laughed as the auditorium quieted to let Caitlyn perform in front of… well, Jane now had no idea how many people were watching at home, but there were at least a thousand people in this audience.

"In the quiet corners where my soul rests,

I lie awake upon my breast,

Searching for peace within and all around,

In the rhythm of life, that's where I'm sound.

There's a music in the places I've been,

In the stories I've lived, the movies I've seen,

In the strength I've found and the fears I've faced,

In the whispers of tomorrow, woven from past grace.

I'm more than the labels others choose to see,

More than the roles, the colors, or what's worn by me,

I'm the moonlight's dance, the calm in the storm,

A song, again, unfolding in its form.

In the quiet of self, where my spirit stays,

There's a freedom that soars in its own wild ways,

In the curves of my being, in the light I hold dear,

I find peace, find balance, and release all my tears.

Embracing who I am in the skin I live,

In the love that I offer, in the way that I give,

Finding peace in moments, both grand and small,

In the quiet wisdom that answers my call.

So here's to the journey, to rising, to falls,

To the beauty of being, the strength in it all,

With every breath, every heartbeat, in life's tender grace,

I find peace in my soul, in my own sacred space."

Applause erupted as she bowed in appreciation and slipped off the stool. Jane leaned in toward Rebecca and asked, "Was that original? I have never heard it before."

"Supposedly she wrote it while in Iowa. That's all I know."

"Huh." Jane stopped clapping. "I had no idea she wrote poetry." What else didn't Jane know about her wife?

She was checked out for the rest of the talent portion – some other poets and musicians took up too much time for Jane's tastes. Besides, she had to keep a diligent eye on her niece, in case Cece was making plans to run off with someone when Jane wasn't looking.

I can't help it. I'm a wee bit paranoid these days. Was this what it felt like to be a parent? To fret over a kid every hour of the day? God, was this what her mother felt like thirty years ago when Jane spent most of the ‘90s chasing girls and driving fast down the highway?

Would it be uncouth to tell Cecelia some of those stories? Or would that make Jane "cringe?"

"Are we going to hear who made the top five yet?" Jane asked during the next commercial break. "I am starting to go mad. I love our Cait, but I do not know how much longer I can take sitting here watching women parade around in beauty pageant attire."

"There's still the athletic portion," Rebecca said. "I think they announce the top five after the top ten show off their bodies."

"Oh, well, now… I could pay attention to that."

Jane wasn't sure what "athleticism" meant in a pageantry sense, but somehow she wasn't surprised that it involved ten women strutting out onto the stage in a mix of stylish gym and bathing suit attire. Caitlyn stunned in a black, strapless bikini that somehow held up her girls without falling. (Later, Rebecca told her this was the magic of fashion tape.) A black and gold crocheted sarong fell off her shoulders as she turned around at the end of the stage, black pumps making her hips sway and focusing everyone's attention on her fabulous arse. Jane swooned. Rebecca poked her in the side.

"I have no idea what that had to do with sports," Jane said. "And I do not care." As far as she was concerned, nobody else had the kind of confident gait that Caitlyn sported while showing off so much tasteful skin. It was also the only time she wore her hair up while on stage. That was always Jane's favorite look on her wife.

"Jane," Rebecca hissed. "You're drooling."

"What is the matter with that? Are you not drooling as well?"

"I hide it better."

"Uh-huh…" Well! Unlike Rebecca, who had Cait all to herself that past week – including last night, as the knickers dropped on Jane implied – someone's wife had yet to enjoy her marital perks that past month. Jane had a lovely laundry list of activities she would like to enjoy with Caitlyn. But only if her wife had time to get kissed between the legs.

Normally, this was the part where she hoped everyone around her was jealous that she got to sleep with that woman on the stage, but Jane knew it was futile. That was Rebecca beside her, and Rebecca got everything… but her own room. So it went.

It was the moment everyone had been waiting for. Or at least Jane had been waiting, her fingers crossed with Rebecca and Christine as the ten semifinalists lined up to hear the top five. The host thanked everyone for doing so wonderfully that night before launching right into it.

"Our first finalist… Mrs. Alasssska!"

One by one four women were called to the front of the stage, each one falling over themselves in joy and laughter as they shook each other's hands and thanked the host for calling them. Caitlyn stood in the back, politely clapping, the camera briefly panning over her face in the hopes of catching any anxiety in her finer lines and blossoming wrinkles.

To the untrained eye, she was as cool as a late summer's breeze. To Jane, her wife was staying calm but still wanted that final spot.

"Be quiet, be quiet!" Christine hushed Rebecca before she had the chance to say something. "I've got a good feeling!"

The host was chastised for waiting to announce the last finalist. When he bellowed for Iowa to step forward, nobody clapped harder than Jane.

That's my girl. She was always happy to watch her wife succeed.