Chapter 12

Previously on ADKOU: Sutton and her mom continued to clash over her parents' divorce; Ada sneaked over to Sutton's house for a late night sleepover and encouraged her to talk more openly with her mom.

Please note: This is the second-to-last chapter of ADKOU. Chapter 13, the final installment, will be coming soon.

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Her mom's car was in the garage when Sutton arrived home from her run. She gripped her keys and stepped into the house, finding her mom seated at the kitchen table.

"Hi," Sutton ventured.

Her mom did not look up. "Hi, Sutton," she said, her head bent over the table. "How's your day been?"

"Fine. Where were you all day?"

"Running errands."

Sutton replenished her water bottle. She stood by the refrigerator and watched her mom, sensing bad energy pulsing between them. Something nestled into her heart. She recognized it as Ada.

"Mom," she said, sitting next to her at the table.

Her mom did not look up from the note she was writing. "Hm."

"I'm sorry about you and Daddy."

Her mother looked around now, her small hazel eyes blinking behind her glasses.

"I don't mean for my sake," Sutton continued, "I mean for yours. I'm sorry this is happening. I know you haven't been happy with each other for years, but I'd also imagine it hurts to let go."

Her mom swallowed and dropped her eyes. For a moment she looked like a little girl, scared of confessing something she'd done wrong at school. "We thought we were doing you a favor by staying together."

"I know."

"We said we couldn't do anything because you still had high school to get through. Then college. And then law school."

"I know."

"But now we've run out of excuses. You're an adult, and so is your brother, and your dad and I have to stop pretending you're still impressionable children who need us to protect you from things."

"You don't have to protect me," Sutton rasped.

"Your dad is a good man. He's been a wonderful father--"

"I know--"

"--but we aren't making each other happy. We've been slogging through life since you were young."

"Did you ever love him?"

"Oh, of course I did, Sutton." Her mom paused, the wrinkles near her eyes creasing. "But it was a love I had doubts about. I always wondered if there could have been more, if I could have felt more. People, especially older people, will tell you that love is a choice, and they're right, to an extent. When you choose your life partner, you choose to wake up with them every day and meet whatever challenges come up. You choose to spend holidays with their family and to go to their office Christmas party even though you're mad at them for forgetting to pick up milk at the store. Your dad and I have done that as much as we could have. But the other thing, Sutton, is that love is a feeling, too. You can choose and choose and choose love, but your heart has to have a stake in the game. You have to feel something."

Sutton waited, but her mom had drifted off, her expression spacey.

"And you and Dad don't feel anything," Sutton prompted.

Her mom looked at her. "No. We felt it in the beginning...or we thought we did. Even then, I think we were convincing ourselves of it too much. I chose your name because I was trying so hard to convince myself."

"What?"

"Sutton Falls is a beautiful campground in Tennessee. Dad and I went there when we first started dating."

"You've told me that."

"It's the truest memory I have of feeling purely in love with your dad. I remember the sunshine catching on his hair--he had a full head of thick, dark hair back then--and I felt so much affection for him, and so lucky that we were there together. We hiked up to a waterfall and talked about our plans for the future, and those plans hadn't merged yet but in that moment I wanted them to. I wanted him to propose so I could call him my fiancé and eventually my husband, and I wanted to have a big Southern wedding where everyone would see how great we were for each other. It's the only time I remember having that clarity about him. We got married and had your brother a year later because we thought we were supposed to. By the time we conceived you, I was panicking that we had made a mistake in marrying each other. I could see it in your dad's eyes, too. I kept praying and praying that you would be the thing that would bring us back together. I thought about that trip to Sutton Falls, and how in love we had been, and I knew I had to name you after that feeling."

Sutton blinked tears from her eyes.

"Oh, honey," her mom cooed. "It's alright. Sometimes love works this way."

"You're scaring me into thinking love doesn't work at all, Mom."

"No," her mom said gently. "It can work, and it will work for you. I already know you'll fare better than me because you've had to be honest with the whole world about what your heart wants. You come by love so naturally, Sutton. You've never tried to force it."

Sutton bowed her head and picked at her thumbnail. Her mind and heart spun with Ada, and for the first time since childhood, she wanted to share that feeling with her mom. But she thought of Ada's fear of labels, of the way Ada shifted uncomfortably whenever Linda walked in on them lying on the couch together, of the anguish in Ada's eyes when Sutton had deliberately and incorrectly outed her all those years ago, and she understood she had to contain these feelings until Ada was ready to share them--if she would ever be ready.

"What do you want, Mom?" Sutton asked. "After everything settles, what are you looking for?"

Her mom drew in a long breath. "Oh, Sutton," she said, combing her fingertips across the note she was writing, "I just want to feel my heart beat again."

"Let me make you dinner tonight," Ada said at work on Monday. She leaned against the break room counter, a paper cup of coffee in her hand, her expression daring Sutton to turn the offer down.

"Will you make me steak?" Sutton teased.

"Vegetarian lasagna. It'll be better than any rib eye you've ever had. You'd have to come grocery shopping with me, but we can drop your car at my place and then go to Whole Foods together."

"You would shop at Whole Foods."

"Sorry that I'm a better Millennial than you."

"Please. I went to law school--I'm the ultimate Millennial."

"Do we have a plan?"

"Will you let me help?"

"I'll think about it."

Sutton stepped nearer to her and stole a drink from her coffee cup. "Okay. It's a plan."

They stayed late at work, just as they had done the week before. On-Delay trailed out at half-past six, leaving only the two of them and Marta in the office. Sutton was not doing any actual work at this point: she was reading articles on Salon's website and waiting for Ada to finish her last tasks of the day. Every few minutes, she gave her eyes a break from her computer screen and let them rest on Ada instead. Ada had that concentrated frown on her face, the one that meant she was deeply involved in whatever she was working on. Her hair had come down out of its bun and fell around her face in tight little ringlets that shook like tree nettles in the rain anytime she cricked her head between her computer and the stack of papers on her desk.

Ada looked up and Sutton allowed herself to be caught watching her. The frown disappeared from Ada's face and a secret smile replaced it, setting off springs of happiness in Sutton's belly.

Five minutes, Ada mouthed.

Take your time, Sutton mouthed back.

She went back to reading her Salon piece, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marta step out of her office and call to Ada. She shifted in her chair a fraction of an inch to catch a glimpse of Marta's face. She was neither smiling nor frowning; her face was impassive. Ada walked dutifully toward her and stepped into her office, and Sutton turned back to her desktop screen, assuming Marta wanted to pick Ada's brain about the sales team.

Ada stayed in Marta's office for a long 15 minutes. Sutton grew restless, opening one new Chrome tab after the next, jiggling her foot against the wheels of her desk chair. Finally, Marta's office door opened and Ada slipped out of it, her face just as impassive as Marta's had been. Sutton tried to catch her eye, but Ada glanced at her for only a half-second, giving her a tight-lipped smile, before she sat down at her desk and went back to her stack of papers.

"Everything okay?" Sutton asked in the elevator a few minutes later.

"Mhm," Ada said, raising her eyes to the tall reflective doors.

"Do you still want to do dinner?"

"Of course. Do you think I'd renege on this opportunity to show off my cooking skills?"

"I'm seriously looking forward to it. I want a five-course meal, with homemade dessert and everything."

"Five-course meal," Ada repeated. "I wouldn't know how to fill all those courses."

"You could serve grilled cheese for the ones you're not sure about."

"Okay," Ada laughed.

There was something distant about her, like she wasn't emotionally present. When their elevator touched down on the main floor, Ada strode off immediately. Sutton followed her, trying to read her cues but finding them indecipherable.

They flirted in the car on the way to Whole Foods and in the store aisles as they walked about gathering food items, but Ada remained off-kilter, her voice lacking the pulsing energy Sutton had become used to over the last few weeks. Even as they prepared their meal in Ada's compact kitchen, Ada didn't seem like she was all there--Sutton had to ask her more than once if she was listening to what she was saying.

"Hey, are you sure you're alright?" Sutton asked while they ate. "You've seemed weird since you met with Marta."

"I've seemed weird?"

"Just, like, distant."

"I'm fine."

"Was it not a good meeting?"

"It was fine."

Sutton picked her fork through her lasagna. "I get nervous every time Marta wants to meet with me."

"Why," Ada said, not looking at her.

"I always worry I've done something wrong."

"Yeah, well, you've always been afraid of authority figures."

Sutton stilled, her defenses roaring inside her. "Why are you being so rude?"

"What? I'm not."

"You're being bratty. This is like that time we went to Six Flags and you got pissed because I didn't want to ride that stupid ass roller coaster with you--"

"You had promised to ride it before we got there and you knew I couldn't do it on my own," Ada snapped. "Whatever, that's irrelevant. Look, just because we're friends again, doesn't mean you're automatically granted access to every part of my life. I'm processing my conversation with Marta and I'm not ready to talk about it yet, and it's getting on my nerves how you keep asking me about it, like you think you deserve to know just because you always knew everything in high school. I mean, you do realize I had a very structured professional life at Cyntera before you showed up? Sometimes it's difficult for me to share that space with you."

"What, like I just waltzed in and took over your professional life? That's not fair, Ada. We talked about how it shook both of us, but I'd thoughtwe had decided it was for the better, because here I am, eating a meal that you so romantically cooked for me because we're friends again."

Ada set her fork down. She took a deep breath and steadied her eyes on something across the apartment.

"I almost told my mom about us," Sutton said.

"What?"

"I took your advice and talked to her about the divorce. You were right. It made me feel better."

Ada waited.

"And she started talking about love and relationships," Sutton went on, "and I had this sudden need to tell her about you."

"But you didn't?"

"No, I didn't. I wanted to talk with you about it first. I wasn't gonna mess up like I did last time, even though this time I would have told someone for positive reasons."

Ada sat far back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. "Thank you for not telling her."

"You're welcome." She paused, watching Ada's eyes. "Do you think you'd eventually be okay with telling her? Or telling your parents?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I'm sorry, Sutton, I just really don't have the mental capacity to talk about this right now. I can't let myself go there yet. This thing with Marta is weighing on me."

Sutton dug her tongue against her teeth. For a minute, she and Ada sat in silence, the air heavy between them.

"I'm gonna get out of your hair," Sutton decided. "Give you some processing time. Alright?"

Ada looked at her. She seemed tired and resigned. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. You were right, I can't expect for you to let me back in on everything." She hesitated. "At least not right away."

"Let me pack you some leftovers."

"No, sit and finish your dinner. You can bring the leftovers for lunch tomorrow."

When Ada didn't argue, Sutton rose from the table and took her plate to the sink to wash it. Ada stayed sitting, her expression blank.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Sutton said, grabbing her workbag and keys. "Have a good night."

Ada's eyes landed on her, and though she still looked bothered, there was something soft in the way she was looking at her. "You too. Drive carefully."

Sutton hovered for a moment, her brain and heart telling her different things, before she settled on kissing Ada's forehead. "Finish your dinner."

Ada reached for her. "I'm going to tell you what's going, I promise. I just need digestion time."

"I know."

Ada kissed her. "Thank you. Sleep well."

It took until Wednesday night, but Ada followed through on her promise. "Come sit in my car for a minute," she said, catching Sutton's eye as they walked across the empty office parking lot.

Sutton's stomach prickled. She could tell by Ada's demeanor that this was going to be something heavy.

"What's up," she said as soon as they were in the car.

Ada smiled with an upward tuck of her chin. "You're so much the same," she said. "No time for beating around the bush."

"Yeah," Sutton said impatiently, "because you've been worrying me for the last two days. What's going on?"

Ada breathed out and tapped her nails against the console. "So--the reason I was so off the other night was because Marta blindsided me with something."

Sutton waited. Ada was chewing on her lip, a sure sign of anxiety.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," Sutton said gently.

"Marta offered me a promotion--but it's with the company in Florida."

Sutton's stomach dropped. "What?"

"The company we've acquired. Marta needs a sales team leader--someone to get their people on track and align them with our processes and culture. She said I'm the best salesperson she has and she wants me to be her point person down there."

Sutton's breathing had become tight. "So you'd have to move?"

Ada looked at her, and her eyes confirmed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the other night. It caught me totally off-guard."

"Are you going to do it?"

"I haven't decided."

Sutton had the strange sensation, one she had experienced only a few times before, that she was watching herself from somewhere else. She could see herself and Ada in the car, could feel the twisted energy between them, could place them in a temporal context that her future self was somehow looking back on. And when she spoke to Ada, she did it from someplace that was beyond the immediate needs of her heart--some older, wiser Sutton, who had learned to yield to life rather than fight against it.

"You're amazing," she said.

Ada looked at her, her expression conflicted.

"You are," Sutton said. "Marta's right--you're the best salesperson by a long-shot. You work harder than everyone else, you stay later than anyone, you actually care about what we're doing. You're driven and motivated and so committed to doing your job the right way. It's astounding, Ada."

Ada's eyes were hungry and yearning, her shoulders pulled into herself. "Thank you," she said, the words catching in her throat.

"I'm proud of you. And I don't mean that to sound patronizing, because it's not, it's just--I'm grateful to know you and witness how you live your life. I knew you in high school and I'm getting to know who you are now, and I can see everything that's the same but also everything that's different, and it's mind-blowing how you've changed in so many positive ways--it makes me want to be better than I am."

"You're amazing, Sutton--"

"Shhh, just listen--this is about you. You've busted your ass for this and you've earned it. There is no one who deserves it more. And I'm grateful to you for telling me about it. It means a lot."

Suddenly she was finished talking. The sense that she had been watching this conversation from afar evaporated, and she was once again sitting in this leather seat next to Ada, beautiful, breathing, intense Ada, whose heart was beating only inches away from hers.

"Thank you for saying all that," Ada said, her voice clear and earnest. "It's really nice to know you're proud of me."

"I've always been proud of you."

"This is the first time I feel like I've truly been recognized for something, you know?"

"You've worked for it."

"Sutton? How do you feel about this?"

Sutton searched her. "You mean--what it means for us?"

Ada held her eyes.

"Do you want to be with me, Ada?"

"Of course I do."

"Could you be with me in a way where I can tell my mom how I feel about you? Or other important people in my life?"

"What?"

"I really wanted to tell my mom about you the other day," Sutton said, the words rushing up. "But when I told you that on Monday night, you said you didn't know if you would ever be at that point."

"Are you really opening these old wounds, Sutton? I don't understand why you're doing this. What, are you planning to 'out' me again?"

"No, of course not."

"You know what telling her, or anyone, would mean. It would mean forcing me to claim some kind of identity that I don't want to claim. Is this always going to be an issue with you?"

Sutton sat back and stilled herself in the moment, thinking. Just a minute ago she had felt she was experiencing this from afar, but now she felt very much alive and anchored in the present. Ada's angry tone did not alarm her: her heart pulsed calmly, soothed by some larger truth in the universe. "You know," she said, "when I talked to my mom the other day, she said something that was a big revelation to me. About how, the first time she ever felt truly in love with my dad, she wanted to name it. She wanted to know they were going to marry each other and that she would be able to call him fiancé and then husband. And that's how I got my name."

"I thought it was from that wilderness place in Tennessee," Ada said, her voice still on edge.

Sutton looked at her. "You don't forget anything, do you? I forgot I had even told you that."

"I didn't even realize I remembered it until a second ago."

"Well, yeah, I'm named for the campground in Tennessee, but now I know the significance. My parents' trip to Sutton Falls was the only time my mom had ever been really certain of loving my dad. And when they had me a few years later, she wanted to name me for that certainty because she felt like they were already losing it."

Ada's expression lost some of its hardness, her eyes searching Sutton's face.

"It made so much sense. I was named for my mom's need to label, to define, to be certain--especially about love--and I grew up to manifest the exact same anxiety. I look at the world and I want to define every phenomenon I find in it. I did that to you when we were young. I tried to tell you who you were and what you wanted, and I did it for selfish reasons--because I was terrified that you might not love me in the same huge way I loved you, and I just wanted to strap you down and know that we were the same. But--now that you're back in my life, all I really know is that I don't know who you are, Ada, because you're so much bigger to me than I can explain in words. I think I have you figured out and then you do something that surprises me and I realize I'll never have you figured out, and that's a good thing. So no, I don't want to out you. I wouldn't even know how, because there's not a single term in the world that could capture everything you are."

Ada's expression was deep with need.

"But the thing is," Sutton continued, "there's a big part of me that's like my mom--like a lot of desperate humans, I guess--in that I need to understand what this relationship means. If we can't tell people how we feel about each other, how does that work going forward? Are you going to keep cringing every time Linda catches us holding hands? Are we going to feel okay when I'm invited to Amber's wedding but don't get a Plus-One? What are we going to do if you take this job in Florida and I want to visit you, but I have to lie to my mom or a new roommate about where I'm going for the weekend? I don't want to revert to the dynamic we had in high school, when everything was ambiguous and secretive. And I don't want to be the person I was back then. I hate fighting with my mom, lying to her about where I am most evenings and weekends, slipping you in through the garage like you're still a dirty little secret...I don't want to do that anymore. When I finished law school I was a better person than I was in high school. I'd become a more authentic version of myself, and I told people the truth about what was in my heart, and I started to let my parents in. Now I feel separated from that person I'd become. There are all these dichotomies: who I am at home versus who I am when I'm here with you, who you and I are at work versus who we are outside of it, who I was in the past versus who I am today. I don't want to keep splitting my life. I want the boundaries to dissolve. I want to sit in my childhood bedroom and know that I'm the me from seven years ago and the me that I am right now."

Ada ran her thumb along the ridges of her car key, her shoulders pulled tight beneath her work blouse. "I know that what you're saying makes a lot of sense, and I know I need to think about all of these things...but I'm scared, Sutton. It's like I told you that night in the school parking lot: my life stopped being clean-cut the moment you walked back into it."

"I'm not going to apologize for that."

"I'm not saying you should." Ada paused before speaking again. "My parents have told me, on separate occasions, that meeting each other was the best disruption they've ever had."

Sutton swallowed. She took Ada's hand and pressed her fingers into her skin, her throat swelling with sudden emotion. "Listen. This is a big decision you have to make, but either way, whether you move to Florida or not, I want to be with you. I feel like my heart just woke up after a seven-year sleep, and I know it's because I'm around you again."

Ada's eyes pleaded with her. "Can you be with me even if I can't be open about us?"

Sutton inhaled. "Do you think--will there ever be a point when you can be open about us?"

"I don't know."

The silence between them was pressing. Ada's warm hand was still clutched in Sutton's, brown skin tucked beneath white.

"I don't know what I'm going to decide," Ada said.

"Are you talking about the promotion or us?"

Ada raised heavy eyes.

"Okay," Sutton said, though nothing was okay. She released Ada's hand and turned her body toward the glove compartment. Looking at the windshield, she said, "We need some space to think about this."

Ada said nothing, but Sutton felt the burning pain of her attention. There seemed to be no air in the car. Sutton's stomach stung with pain, with the familiarity of it all. She put a limp hand on the door handle and pushed down, shifting her body to leave.

"Sutton," Ada said.

Sutton looked into her glistening eyes. "Please know something," she said, her own eyes grasping. "The feelings I have for you are real, and rare, and still alive after all these years, and that means something, I know it does. And I think you have those feelings, too.  I know we've only been back in each other's lives for a few weeks, but it feels longer than that, like those years in the middle do count for something because they've given me clarity about how I feel. And how I feel is...that I love you. Okay? I love you. I want you to know that."

Ada's expression keeled. She was leaning forward, her shoulders pulled tight together like she might fall apart if they were not there to bookend her.

Sutton gave her a sad smile as she climbed out of the car, her body heavy with the sins of the past and the uncertainty of the future. "I trust you, Ada," she said, leaning into the car. Then she closed the door and walked away.