Con VIII

"Aw, honey," he said after placing a warm arm across my shoulders and handing me a blue handkerchief of softened cotton to wipe my face with, "you gonna be okay - you just focus on you, on your melody, baby, breathe into your rhythm - you'll be alright, you'll find your way."

Somehow after talking with Noah, things did seemed to get better, I felt better and as we got closer and closer to the departure date, I cut myself less, ate more, started paying attention to Beth's attentions until one day, about three days before "D-Day" (she called it that because she wasn't thrilled about my going) I felt it, that sense, that knowing: Beth and I were going to have a baby.

For the first time, since I'd been officially told, even after having gone through the first few months, I knew it for myself: I was no longer simply "me," but for a little while, I was an "us;" me and this little thing that was growing under my skin, under my heart...a part of us both.

The how it happened...I couldn't think about, I couldn't let it bother me, because the expression on Beth's face and the way she held my hand as together we listened to that rapid little heart beat that filled the room through the speaker and watchted it, pulsing and alive on the monitor in black and white, made it all worthwhile.

Con VII

It was Noah, Noah Jole, the saxophone player who noticed first.

Beth wanted to tell everyone, but I didn't and for the first time, as far as I could tell, she respected my wishes.

I also didn't want to see my parents or my older brother, didn't want to go out, didn't speak with any of our friends - I'd even stopped giving private lessons - something I'd been doing to earn my daily bread since I was sixteen, while the only reason I dragged myself to rehearsals was because I'd fought so hard to become a part of the jazz combo I now played with - and we were scheduled to go on tour in less than a month - not a large one, to be certain, but it was an important one: we would headline one of the stages at the Rhode Island Jazz fest, then go to Chicago for a BB King tribute.

I didn't understand it, my feelings, either. Beth was perfect, everything I'd always hoped, everything I knew she, no, we could be and more...we were a family...and my career had just taken a very positive turn.

Beth humored my moods and told me it was all a part of the process my body was undergoing and my gp - the one she'd picked - apparently agreed.

One late afternoon, after she'd dropped me off at the local concert stage we rehearsed at, Noah eyed me as he polished the brass of his instrument, the soft chamois rag a caress over the creature he loved to the exclusion of most of the world.

I sat on my stool and tuned my guitar, plucking at the nylon and silver strings, checking the intonation.

"When you due?" he asked me in a soft undertone.

I stared at him.

"C'mon, girl," he said, his voice teasing, rich, and low, "I've got three sisters, two daughters, and three grandbabies. You think I can't see you there, the baby marks all over you? And Beth," he said, and rolled his eyes, "isn't she just so proud? Fussin' over you like...she's..." he put his sax down on the stand and put a hand on my shoulder. "What's the matter, honey? Ain't you happy?"

And much to my horror, I realized the answer even as I tried not to shake my head.

No. I wasn't - not at all.

Con (Part VI)

She was so excited, excited about a child whose hands would match ours, and she wondered aloud while she stroked and kissed my still-flat stomach about eye color, hair color, my mouth or her nose, my talent for music or hers for medicine.

While there were times I'd discuss it with her, the rest of it I felt strangely disconnected, from her, from my body, from the things happening within it.

I found myself contemplating sharp edges, wondering how far, how deep I'd have to cut, how long it would take to fall asleep, and I started experimenting - a slice here, another there, tortured, exquisite lines, designs even, on my forearms where no one could see.

It became my art, my release, proof that I was still alive, because I couldn't feel anything else except the tears and all I could hear whenever I etched another line was a voice from childhood: "You want a reason to cry? I'll give you a reason to cry."

Fuck that. I'd give it to myself.

Get Engaged!

ALC Publishing, the only pubisher of lesbian-themed Japanese comics (called "Yuri Manga") recently launched our newest comc anthology, Yuri Monogatari 6, with 12 stories of lesbian life and live by artists and writers all over the world. 
We know there are a lot of you who would like a copy of the book but, for one reason or another, cannot get it. Maybe you're in school and can't afford it, or maybe you live somewhere where shipping from Amazon makes it outrageously expensive. 
So, we've developed this new Project special for you! 
Here's how it works: 
"Project Engage" is very simple. Use any and all social media you *already use* to promote YM6 and EARN a copy of YM6 for your efforts! 
- Mention Yuri Monogatari 6 in a relevant Forum, Mailing List, Blog post, Twitter about it, or talk about it on your Facebook, MySpace, LiveJournal page, or any other form of social media *that you already use* with a link to either the ALC Page on the Yuricon Shop or Amazon and get *5* points. 
- Embed the Yuri Monogatari 6 video trailer (see below) on the any of the social media *you already use,* and get *10* points. 
- When you have earned *50* points, email us links to these posts, your age and your address at anilesbocon01 at hotmail dot com with the subject line "Project Engage Links" and we'll send you a copy of "YM6!" 
It's that simple. 
Here's the IMPORTANT GUIDELINES YOU MUST FOLLOW TO BE ELIGIBLE FOR A BOOK: 
1) You MUST be 18 or over. There is no exception to this rule. Include your age in your email the first time. Don't make us chase after you for it. 
2) You may not create dummy accounts/blogs or pages for this. If we check and you have no other posts on your blog, or no other posts on the Forum in question, your entry will not count AND you'll make us look bad, like we're spamming the world. So - please only use accounts on places that you already use regularly. 
3) This project is meant to support and promote ALC and YM6. A link followed by a damnation of everything we are doing will not make you any friends. If you want to help us out, we're delighted. If you want us to die a fiery death, don't feel obliged to "help." :-) Lying and cheating to get a book is also not the point. This is to reward folks who *want* to do something concrete to help support us. 
4) All links *must* be verifiable. We're willing to sign up for forums, or friend you, but if you stick them in a private area that no one but you can see, then that's kind of not the point. -_-;; Also, the point is to spread the word, so four links in one page still only count once. 
5) Yes, previous posts, links and embeds count. If you already mentioned YM6 somewhere before today, that is absolutely, positively acceptable. Just collect *50* points worth and you've earned yourself a copy of YM6! 
6) If you are not 18+, please feel free to share links and embeds, but at this time we cannot send you a book. However, your support is still very much appreciated and I want to thank you, so email those links and I'll send you an "I Love Yuri" postcard to show our thanks!
***
Here are the links to share: 
YM6 Video Trailer Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yli_kPSVkFs 
YM6 Video Trailer Embed (use this code -or- if the video loads, click on the arrow icon on the bottom of the video next to the volume control and cut and paste the "embed" code to your blog/page:) 
Yuri Monogatari 6 on Amazon: http://...com/bgnvut
Yuri Monogatari 6 on Yuricon Shop: http://...com/alcpub
***
Project Engage is open to anyone 18 or over. Feel free to get your friends involved. A few of you banding together *can* get a book to share - the point is to get the word out! :-) 
If you have questions, please email anilesbocon01@hotmail.com. Thanks and here's to the success of Project Engage!

Con (Part V)

There were things that changed immediately: how we ate, what we ate; Beth was meticulous and watchful of every single thing that went into my mouth even before the confirming blood-test ten days later.

She paced by the phone after that appointment, had been ready to drive back down to the lab to get the results herself when the phone rang and the voice at the other end told us what she already knew.

There were no more "lost weekends." With the exception of work for either one of us, I have to honestly say she devoted herself to me - and I felt horribly ill about ninety percent of the time and it wasn't simply the nausea and its accompanying joys- it was the horrible headaches as well.

For the first time during the entire time we'd been together, it was finally, finally, just us, just the two of us: no drinking, no strangers, none of the usual things that she always said needed, no crying jags or suicide attempts...

Beth was happy for once, really and truly happy, and things were almost like being eighteen again, vitamins and food - anything she could think of that would tempt me to eat.

She was loving, tender, she relished the changes in my body and was so very, very beautifully gentle when we loved...

But as wonderful as it was, I cried...almost every time.

Con (Part IV)

It was a mistake to think that heaven was anything other than a figment of someone's imagination. I'd gotten used to what I referred to as "lost weekends" with Beth - days where we were both free - she from work, and I from rehearsals and gigs - she cooked, we drank, we went out and came back and made mad, mad love to each other, with another, however, whatever. There were days I didn't remember and didn't worry about, because as crazy as things could get, I was safe: I was with Beth. Two, maybe three hazy days had gone by, and I finally got clear enough to know where I was: in one of our many favorite positions, with Beth between my legs as I lay on top of her, bodies pressed hard and moving fast, her hands firm on my ass and urging me on as we moved close, so close to that lightning edge that I didn't think anything of the hands that closed around my hips, the shift of the bed, and the heat of another impending upon me, but the hands felt wrong somehow, and the blunt edge that eased between us, the body that overlay mine was wrong, too. She tore her mouth away from mine. "Don't hurt her, Louis," she warned as he entered me. Stunned. I was stunned, that she'd pushed this, that she'd allowed it, and the weight of his body pinned me firmly between them even as I tried to move away. "It's okay, JayJay, it's okay...shh," she soothed and cupped my face between her hands. "Look at me, baby." I did, stared in stupefaction into those ice eyes, even as tears stung mine because despite her warning, he hurt, her brother hurt as he moved in me and my heart ached because this felt so very, very, wrong. "Relax, honey, it's just Louis, a part of me, just like you're a part of me, just like our baby's gonna be." I bit my lip against the tears that fell anyway.  "Oh baby, don't cry," she asked and drew my mouth to hers, delivered tender kisses.  "Okay, honey? Okay? We're gonna make that baby together, in our bed, sweetheart, that's all we're doing. Do you love me?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. I closed mine a moment anyway because despite the numbness that had grown in my body, my chest still ached, and I had to reach through the pain because I loved her, loved her with everything I was. Finally, I nodded, unable to speak against the shock and the pain, lip still tight between my teeth. "I love you, too, baby," she said and pulled my head down to her shoulder and held it there as I trembled against her. "Just feel me, baby," she whispered and shifted beneath me, "I'm right here with you. Louis - ease up a little - you're hurting her," she told him and he did, lightened his body off mine. I hazed again as he came, shuddering within me, and I neither noticed nor cared when he left because as soon as I was free of him Beth rolled me onto my back, held me, kissed my tears, wrapped herself around me and whispered words of love until I fell asleep. I ran a fever for two days, four days later, I bled, and on the sixth I threw up at the smell of milk. Beth was thrilled.

Con Part III

Everyone loved Beth: older, smarter, beautiful. Even my estranged parents were something resembling happy that I was with her.

By twenty I was her house-pet, bleeding with her because she'd wanted to die, loving her through the blood and the pain, watching, over and over again, as she got drunk, brought someone home, wanted to hold me while he fucked her, kiss her, comfort her, fuck her until she finally came, nails deep in my back, slammed desperately close to me, hot and slick and wet, all to prove I loved her, and I did, I did.

Beth was my life, my home, my world, everything to me, and I was everything she wanted me to be.

She brought me women, she picked out men, I even dated a few for her, because she loved to go out, have them watch while we made out, then go back home without them so she could suck me off.

And Beth...loved, loved to watch me with other women, loved to join in, but still, in the end, I came for her, with her, and she for me. 

There was only one line I drew:

No matter how she teased, no matter how she begged, even once when she cried, the only time her tears didn't change my mind, I wouldn't sleep with any of the guys she brought home. I'd hold her, kiss her, anything else she wanted, but I didn't want them to touch me and they were as uncomfortable with me as I was with them. We touched her, but we kept a respectful distance from one another.

Until one day, she crossed that line, too.

Beth wanted kids, wanted them so much it was one of the things she cried about, because for various reasons, she couldn't have them. When I promised to have them for her, the smile she threw my way, the kiss she gave, the heart-filling touch in how we made love after that made me think this...was heaven.