So it was that I went from a single childless woman to a relationshipped almost-mother.
The transition was an easy one, as far as these things went. Gretchen didn’t have the capacity to understand the changes in our relationship. For my part, I gave her some extra-big hugs after my lawyer put in the adoption papers.
I found myself minding less when I needed to wipe her nose or clean food off her face. She was only learning, and soon I’d miss these innocent moments. In a little over a year, I’d have the terrible twos to deal with. Not to mention the teenage years—they said those snuck up on you faster than you’d expect.
I’d read a few parenting books over the months since I’d gotten her, and now I dove into them in earnest. I spent breaks between classes reading about how to be an authoritative guardian and not an authoritarian one. I bought all the Baby Einstein DVDs I could afford, then sat on the couch watching them with her.
Little by little, my apartment filled with toys… dolls, blocks, Legos. I even got her an iPad. “We’re a world of digital citizens now,” the blogs said—best to start kids off young. I wanted Gretchen to have every possible advantage.
Hoping she might grow up bilingual, I played her music in Spanish, then told myself to aim higher and added in French, German, and Mandarin. I switched to organic baby food and anti-microbial cloth diapers. Yeah, I was becoming one of those moms.
Sometimes Jaz and I stayed up late working on the scrapbook of her first year. Pictures, sketches, poetry. Gretchen was going to love it when she was older.
An occasional check arrived in the mail. Amanda never sent any notes along with them, nor did she call to see how her daughter was doing. I cashed them, usually giving the money to Jaz since she spent so much on Gretchen.
I told Amanda about the adoption over text.
She sent me back a smiley face.
* * *
My first public date with Jaz took place three days to the hour after we became official.
We?
??d been acting normal-ish in the meantime. Kissing more, cuddling longer, generally loving each other up. But that wasn’t much of a difference.
Turned out we’d basically been in a relationship for a while now. I just hadn’t realized it.
When we arrived at the Spectrum Coalition mixer, though, I was… nervous.
The campus LGBT society had reserved a room at the local gay bar. Crush was usually packed later in the night—or so I was told—but they were willing to rent out sections earlier in the evening. Apparently some of the students would stay and do some dancing later.
As we walked in, I was overwhelmed by the turn-out the group had gotten. The seats in the room were already full. “Hey, newbies,” a woman said, coming over to welcome us. “Come on in and start mixing. I’m Brooklyn.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jaz said. “I think I might’ve seen you in the grad lounge before.”
“Are you two grad students? I feel like these things only attract undergrads.”
“One masters student and one professor.” I squeezed Jaz’s hand.
“A-a-ahh, I see!” Brooklyn whisked us inside to introduce us to more people.
Nobody at the mixer seemed to care about the student-faculty status of our relationship. They were more interested in hearing about Gretchen, especially when Jaz pulled out her phone and started scrolling through the camera roll.
“Here she is sitting up on her own for the first time,” she said proudly to a guy named Arthur. “And here she is sitting on my lap at the library.”
Arthur’s eyes were glazing over after thirty or so pictures, but he made a valiant effort to enthuse over them anyway. “You’re such a loving mom.”
“Babysitter, actually.”
“Oh.”
I pulled Jaz away as I spotted a professor of my acquaintance. “Alice? I didn’t expect to see you here!”
By the end of the night, it felt like we’d socialized with every lesbian, gay, trans, and bisexual person at Beasley. Not a bad feeling, really.
I’d never bothered to come to one of these events before. I liked the idea that these people knew Jaz and I as a couple. That in their eyes, we were a solid unit.