Chapter 66

Kathleen

One of the people at the top of my "probably should not go see" list is Carolyn Graham-Mathison, and yet here I am, standing on the doorstep of her city townhouse.

A woman I don't recognize answers the door. Her pressed, conservative black dress gives off the air of the one piece of help Carolyn would keep employed. Yes, she's a woman who would try to run a household all on her own to prove that she could, but she's got her limitations like anyone else, and what woman of a certain age wouldn't want to hire someone to take care of a medium-sized house worth millions of dollars?

That will probably be me someday.

"Could you please tell the mistress that…"

I'm interrupted before I can finish speaking to this sullen woman of about forty-five. Interrupted by a very unsullen woman of about fifty.

"Kathleen? Oh, let her in, Greta! And get her some tea!"

I'm swept up in greetings, kisses, and pats to my hand as I'm led to the parlor at the back of Carolyn's house. She has a chess board set up, halfway through a game with either herself or Greta, but thankfully she does not ask me to play. I've already turned down Ira enough times since I don't care much for chess.

I sit in an antique chair that has been recently reupholstered, making it soft and luxurious. Carolyn sits ninety degrees to me, motioning to a tea set placed by Greta only five seconds before. "Please help yourself, dear. I recently got a shipment from Belgium. You wouldn't think of Belgium when it comes to tea, but…"

"Not right now, thanks."

Carolyn is taken aback. "Oh, what have I done this time to make everyone so snippy?"

"Done?"

"Don't suppose you've come here to put me in my place again." Carolyn smiles, but I can tell she's still wounded by my previous words. Come to think of it, she hasn't said a word about Ira and me in the weeks since that painful family lunch.

I shake my head. "You haven't done anything. I've come here to get some advice."

Her manicured eyebrows rise. "Business?" She leans in, even though Greta has long since left the room. "Or personal?"

I can't meet her gaze without blushing. "Personal."

"Oh, dear, I asked the wrong question. Ahem. What has my child done this time?"

I might as well rip off this Band-Aid. "Made me fall in love with her."

Not sure what to expect, I brace myself. Carolyn doesn't squeal. She doesn't huff. She doesn't even change her expression, other than to play with the charm around her neck. I recognize such a thing. Seems provincial, although I'm sure the birthstone is genuine.

A diamond for April. Ira's birth month.

"Pardon me for not getting excited this time around," she says, looking at her pendant. It matches her scarlet one-piece and brunette up-do well. If she's wearing makeup, I can't tell. "I'm trying to contain my emotions regarding you two. Apparently, that's a good idea, because you don't sound excited much yourself. Tell me everything."

"That's it… ‘everything' is very… TMI."

"Kathleen, honey…" She clears her throat. "I know about the domination and submission thing. It's my fault, I suppose you could say, they first found out about it. Had some books one fateful day when they came home from school. Disappeared. Next thing I knew, Ira wanted to know if women like it when men do that to them because I'd spent their whole life trying to turn them into a genuine, empathetic person. Let me tell you, that's hard to do in this world!"

I don't know if she means our high society or the world in general. It doesn't matter. "I think you raised her the best you could. She's…"

"A sheltered kid. Trust me, I know."

"In more ways than one."

Carolyn is quiet as she pours herself tea, offers me a cup one last time, and shrugs when I decline. I don't want to drink any liquids. I may be a bit parched, but I'm so anxious that any drop of liquid will send me to the bathroom twenty times in an hour.

"Now that we've established that… go ahead and tell me. You wouldn't have come here if you didn't want my advice on the whole tale."

I don't know where to begin, and I tell her as much.

"Start wherever it's most natural."

You know where is most natural? Twelve years ago.

There's nothing pleasant about telling Carolyn my history with her child. She doesn't want to know that we hooked up in high school, let alone that Ira was embarrassed for years because she was on her period. When I tell Carolyn this, she hides her face in her hand and sighs dramatically, as if to say, "She got that from me."

I fast forward to months ago when Ira and I were thrown together in The Ace project. The sparks. The dislike. The taunting.

The sex. The more sex. The bet. The time I went to her house and let her dominate me, a Domme. The fact that I liked it. That I wanted more.

That I barely know what's going on in my head and body anymore. That I love her. That she claims to love me, yet we both know how futile it is… that heartbreak lurks.

"We might make it through the completion of this project. Such as when I get the museum in order." I smooth out my pants but keep my eyes downcast. "After that… well, we'll have no reason to keep trying to make it work. I'll probably crack. I'll resent her. She won't understand me. We'll have no choice but to part ways.

Carolyn remains silent for a long time. I can tell, through the lines on her face and the heavy breaths passing through her nostrils, that she's both trying to parse this information about her child's personal life and what she should say that comes off as unbiased.

It's an impossible pursuit.

"I didn't realize it was that complicated between you two," she finally says. "And I'm sorry to hear that you two are on a road to so much pain. No mother wants to hear that about her child… I mean, that's worse than all that other stuff."

With no idea what to say, I finally pour some lukewarm tea and bring it to my lips.

"I see it this way. You're the only one compromising, aren't you?"

I nod. "It feels that way to me."

"They need to meet you halfway. Not a quarter of the way. Not a third of the way. Halfway. Ira is too good at negotiating. They get that from their father and me. They're good at making you see their side so easily. I've fallen into that trap a time or two. They're charismatic and make you feel taken care of." Carolyn shakes her head. "Kathleen, if any woman, and not just you, wants to be with Ira for more than a few weeks, then you need to get them to compromise with you. You've done more than enough, I promise."

I'm glad to hear her say that. I needed to hear her say that.

"Do you know what you want from Ira, Kathleen?"

That's something I've been thinking about for days. Weeks. What do I want from Ira? What will make me comfortable? Happy? What will give me the confidence to pursue something more than a fling with her? How can I go out in public holding her hand or letting her drag me around in a collar once or twice a month… without dealing with awkward stares from people we know? How can I submit to Ira without worrying about my reputation as a Domme?

How can I become a switch for her?

"I know what I want," I say. "I want her to see me for who I really am. She said she wanted to deconstruct me and then reconstruct me back into her perfect partner. She nearly did that. Except… why did I have to be deconstructed? Why did I have to change, to explore sides of myself I never knew existed?"

Carolyn's sad smile says everything. "Because you're a woman."

God, she's right.

All these years, I've been trying to run away from, to fight against the shit that brings me down in this society. I've avoided so many traps threatening to catch me in a web of misogyny and chauvinism. And yet! When I fell for Ira, it felt natural to defer to her wishes, to give up a piece of myself for someone else. Let alone someone masculine, no matter who they otherwise are. The world looks at Ira and sees someone naturally in charge in any situation. Not me.

I love Ira. But not at the expense of myself.

"My daughter is blind to such plights," Carolyn says in a rare moment of referring to Ira as female. "She can't see through the fog of sheer privilege her father and every other person they've come across has bestowed upon them. Some things can't be helped. Ira may not intend to do this to you, but… well, quite frankly, she's an idiot. You need to tell them directly what you want and how you feel. Don't just tell her that you love them. Tell her what you need from them to meet you halfway. If that means…"

"If that means what?"

Carolyn looks caught between smiling and vomiting. "Dominating them."

I scoff. "She would never go for it."

"Perhaps not, but…" Her teeth graze her pink lips. "You'll be surprised what someone will do for love. Like my ex-husband, who is dating that Barbie to make me jealous."

Yet again, I scoff. "You think that's what he's doing?" I'm relieved to be off the subject of Ira and me, but at what cost? This could get ugly.

"I know that's what he's doing. He started dating her the moment he found out about me and that soccer player. Which was overplayed, if you know what I mean."

A question battles within my mouth. "Do you two still…?"

"Oh, I love that mess of a man. I never doubted that he loves me. We are just incompatible. Like you and my daughter."

Oh, God, I never want to be like that.

"Him dating our child's ex is extra cream on the sundae. He's trying to prove how virile he is, in the most disgusting way possible. I don't have anything against the girl though…."

Before I know it, I spill that Stephanie May is blackmailing me.

Carolyn's face goes from semi-amused to about-to-cut-a-fuckhead in five seconds.

"What?" She gets up, flames shooting from her nostrils. "How much?"

I feel like I'm sitting at the feet of my own angry mother. "Fifty thousand a month."

"Fifty…" Yup. Here comes my mother. "Kathleen Marguerite Allen." She picks up a magazine from the coffee table, rolls it up, and thwacks me on the head. "You're an idiot!"

I open my mouth to speak, but…

"No, dear, no. She is not worth a single Benjamin a month! Stop paying her."

"Then she'll…"

"I will take care of Princess Dystopian Tragic Theater with A Love Triangle. Hmph. Think I haven't seen all her movies? When I thought Ira was dating her… I… well, never mind. Her ass is grass now. Grass I'm going to smoke."

"Carolyn, I don't think…"

"That woman has fucked with my family enough. I don't care if she's Ms. Sally Sunshine or the president's daughter…"

"Carolyn…"

"No, honey, no." She puts both hands on my shoulders. Now she's looming in front of me, grinning. "You worry about the idiot of my loins. I'm going to take care of this interloper before she does any more damage to the people I care about."

Ah, there's one problem with that…

I've already decided what to do about Ira, and nobody's going to like it much.