eighteen
Rue hasn’t remembered a birthday since her thirteenth. Not that they were bad or traumatizing and she had chosen to block them out, but because every birthday since thirteen had resulted in an oxycontin-fueled daze.
This year though, she’s sober. Since her fentanyl incident last week when she vowed to sobriety, she hasn’t touched anything, not even the Vicodin sitting at the top of her closet behind a beat-up pair of converse. She’s not sober on her own accord, she’s sober per Jules’ request.
Jules.
For once in her life, she’s thankful to be sober on this Monday morning, because her eyes can clearly focus on the image of Jules stringing the ribbon of balloons through the slits of Rue’s locker. Her hair is tinted a light pink this week, it’ll fade by next. She’s wearing a tennis skirt, it’s blue. Rue can’t help but hope that she did that knowing that blue is her favorite color.
“..Whatcha doing Jules?” Rue says, approaching her.
“Damn it you’re early! I’m not done yet!” Rue notices the two coffee cups sitting at her feet.
“For you! I was gonna bring your present but I figured I’d just bring it to dinner tonight?”
Jules looks you up and down for a second as she hands you your coffee.
“What? What is it? Do you not like it? I know your mom said that you don’t like making a big deal out of birthdays but I do, and I wanted to do something for you”
Rue can’t get the words out so she just lets Jules continue to babble.
“Oh my god..is it not your birthday today? Because your birthday is the fourteenth and today is the fourteenth right? Wait let me just-” Jules goes to pull out her phone to check the date before Rue stops her.
“No! It’s..yes it’s my birthday..it’s just…”
I’ve never felt loved like this.
You make everything so special.
You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.
“It’s perfect Jules, thank you,” Rue says as she pulls Jules into a hug.
This is the first time that Rue realizes that she might love Jules, like, love love her.
Fuck.
-
nineteen
They got the keys to their shitty New York apartment today.
Rue and Jules (and Gia..who talked their mom into letting her help the girls move-in) gather around the door, watching as Rue struggles to get the key in.
“Oh my god, let me do it Rue Rue,” Jules says, snatching the key and turning it. The door clicks.
“You open it, birthday girl,” she says, gesturing to the unlocked door. Rue turns the knob, and the three girls stare at Rue and Jules (shitty, tiny, literal shoebox in the middle of Manhattan) apartment. Jules starts at Parsons on Monday, Rue at Fordham next week (the killer essay that she wrote managed to somehow override 2 years of drug-induced truancy and C-average grades).
“It’s perfect” Rue says as she steps in and takes in all, all 400 square feet of it that they’ll barely be able to afford between their jobs.
“It’s absolutely perfect” Jules echos as she sets Rue’s suitcase in the middle of the room.
“Are we all..seeing the same apartment?” Gia asks from the doorway, confused at the level of enthusiasm the girls are displaying over a space no bigger than their living room at home.
Rue and Jules lock eyes, and it’s understood. The apartment isn’t perfect because of its size or location or the way that the sunlight streams through the window. It’s perfect because it’s theirs, together, and that’s all that matters.
That night as Rue is burrowed under a big fluffy blue comforter, Jules snoring softly next to her, and Gia on the floor beside them, she knows for certain there’s nowhere she’d rather be on her nineteenth birthday.
-
twenty-one
“I don’t want to drink tonight,” Rue says as she watches Jules apply her eyeliner in the mirror.
“I know that you’re ‘supposed to’ or whatever because it’s legal, but I’ve done enough of that shit while it was still illegal for me. And I know that it would be different than me being sober from like narcotics or whatever, but I just don’t want to risk it and-” Jules cuts her off with a quick chaste kiss on her lips.
“Baby, you literally don’t have to explain yourself to me. You know I would never push you into breaking sobriety. It’s your birthday and I will happily have amazing sober-sex with you tonight”
Rue laughs.
That’s the thing about Jules, she always knows what to say to pull you out of your head. It’s like she took AP How-To-Calm-Down-Your-Anxious-Girlfriend in high school.
“You have to go to class” Rue whispers.
“No, YOU have to go to class” Jules replies.
“How about neither of us goes to class” in the two years that Rue and Jules have been together, Jules studying art while Rue studies social work, Rue has never once skipped class. Even when Rue had a stomachache so bad that she spent all night on the bathroom floor with Jules, she still tied her hair up and got her ass to class in the morning.
“Are you okay? You never want to skip class. Like, ever”
“I know, but today is my birthday and I want to be with my favorite person”
“You mean your favorite person isn’t your American Government professor?” Jules says as she picks up her house key.
“Are you going to class? On this? The day of my birth?” Rue says in a desperate plea.
“Absolutely not, I’m going to get you birthday coffee, and then we’re gonna do all of your favorite things. We can walk downtown and go to that art cafe with-”
“With the cats? Really?” Rue says as she cups Jules's face in her hands. “My birthdays with you just keep getting better”
-
twenty-four
Jules’ hair is blonde now. Not bleach blonde like it was in high school and up until last fall. She had finally succumbed to the dark blonde hair that grew in after years of frying it (her words, not Rue’s). Rue stares at her hair, splayed across the pillows, the same image she’s woken up to for the last five years.
Sure, they’ve had their ups and downs, but they’ve stabilized themselves over the years (thank you couples therapy!) and there’s no love Rue has ever felt bigger than this. There’s so much certainty, Rue knows that she’ll wake up to this same picture every morning for another 60 years, without a doubt.
Jules’ blonde eyelids flutter and her eyes meet Rue’s.
“G’ morning my old wife” Jules slurs, her mind still waking up. Jules’ birthday isn’t until February. Actually, it’s on Valentine’s day, exactly 5 months after Rue’s, and for those five months Jules’ doesn’t stop harassing Rue about how old she is.
“Can I be?” Rue asks without a second thought.
“What?” Jules says, brushing the hair out of her face and rubbing her eyes.
“Can I be your old wife?” Rue says. She leans over to her nightstand, fumbles around in the drawer, and retrieves a blue box that’s been sitting there for the last two years, untouched but waiting.
“Are you proposing to me in our bed at 7 am?” Jules asks as her tired brain pieces together everything that happened in the first 30 seconds of her day.
“I know we’ve had this conversation before and agreed that we don’t need a piece of paper saying that we’re together forever because we already know, but I just want to be able to say that you’re my wife. And I love you so much and I just want-” Rue cut herself off.
“You already know everything I’m about to say, don’t you”
“Yep” Jules giggled as she kissed Rue. “There is nothing I want more than to marry you”
The ring was just a gold band, no diamond, because “fuck the diamond industry” as Jules had stated several times over the past few years.
This was pure love.
-
twenty-six
They had a new apartment. Same neighborhood in Manhattan. They had made friends there, but with Jules working as an art therapy instructor and Rue working at a rehabilitation center they could afford a little bit bigger of a place than they could at nineteen. It had two bedrooms, the first belonging to Rue and Jules, and the second was currently occupied by Gia, who had moved in shortly after their wedding last spring.
Jules had worn a gold dress, Rue had work a black one, Ali had walked Rue down the aisle, it was perfect.
Jules burst through the front door with grocery bags flooding her arms.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to my gorgeous wife Rue Bennett-Vaughn, happy birthday to you” Jules sang as she dropped the bags on the counter and flung her arms around Rue, peppering kisses all over her cheeks.
It was just the two of them for dinner, Rue had spent the day with Gia before she left for a friends house, claiming “I don’t want to hear your loud-ass birthday sex tonight, I had to sit through enough of that when you guys were in high school”. Jules insisted on cooking, even though on a regular day she would attempt to make mac and cheese and then resort to calling their favorite Thai takeout place after disaster struck.
“Tell me about your day,” Rue said as she sat at the counter watching Jules slice carrots.
“Ugh, Rue it was so good. I mean, obviously, because I was looking forward to coming home and seeing you and celebrating with you, but I had this patient, you know the one?”
“The little girl? What’s her name again Avery?”
“April. And today Rue, I think we got somewhere. I really think she had a breakthrough and it just feels...I feel like I have so much purpose”.
Rue couldn’t help but smile. She loved hearing about what Jules did, how happy it made her. “I’m so happy that you’re happy baby”
“Fuck” Jules said as the smoke alarm began to blare. It was Rue’s birthday and she had fucked up birthday dinner. She felt the tears forming in the brims of her eyes.
“Hey baby, I already picked up sushi for us, it’s in the fridge” Rue said as she smiled sweetly.
“You’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you?”
“Yep”
Later that night they laid together in bed, snuggled up, and watching Rue’s favorite movie. Jules watched as Rue’s eyes drifted to the wall and she focused, deep and thought.
“I can hear you thinking,” Jules said as she kissed her cheek, “What’s going on”
Communication is key Rue, spit it out.
“I want to have a baby”
They both sit there for a moment, Jules’ eyebrows raise and then lower back down, and then she smiles.
“Really?” It’s not like this was shocking information. They’d talked about it vaguely before, but there was no timeline, no definite plan.
“Yes! Yes yes yes!” Jules squealed.
“Seriously? I thought this was gonna be a way heavier conversation” Rue replied, still biting her nails.
“No, let’s do it. I’m ready, we’re at good points in our life, let’s do this.” They just sat like that for a moment, smiling at the thought of a baby with Rue’s curls and Jules's big personality thumping around the apartment.
Jules's face fell before she spoke again, “I’m not..I’m not going off hormones though. I love you so much and I would do almost anything for you, and I feel very secure but...I just think that would be a bad idea for me” She paused. “I have some..stuff..saved away though, at my doctors from before I started hormone therapy. My doctor told me it might be a good idea to..”
“Would that be okay with you?” Rue asked, trying to be as sensitive to the subject as possible.
Jules smiled again, “That would be so fucking okay with me, I’ll call in the morning and we’ll start looking into it, yeah?”
Rue was beaming.
-
twenty-seven
By the next September, Jules sat on the couch with a hand rested on the side of Rue’s belly, which was only slightly swollen despite her 26-weeks-pregnant status. It had taken a couple of months, but a baby had finally stuck. A girl, half her and half Jules. It was late at night, but Rue hadn’t been able to sleep because of the cramped state of her internal organs. So here the two of them were, sitting together.
“Please tell your daughter to stop moving, she’s on my kidney and I’m suddenly reminded of an incident involving my kidneys several years ago and on the verge of having a traumatic flashback”
Jules pressed her mouth to Rue’s belly button, which had been flipped so that it now poked out.
“Hi baby, it’s mama, I need you to get off mommy’s kidney for me so she can sleep for an hour or two this week”
“That would be more funny if it wasn’t accurate,” Rue said, shutting her eyes and flopping around like a fish out of water trying to get comfortable. Her white tank top rose over her belly as she found herself in Jules’ arms, with Jules’ hand trying to massage her lower back lightly, giving her some sense of relaxation.
“Thank you, Rue Rue, I know you’re uncomfortable, but thank you for doing this for us” Rue leaned back to kiss Jules, before curling tightly into her. Jules glanced at her phone, a bright 12:04 am flashing across the screen.
“Hey,” she said “happy birthday”
-
twenty-nine
Jules sat in the kitchen of their apartment, spoon-feeding their daughter cheerios. She had taken some time off lately, trying to get adjusted to their new life.
“Georgie, open your mouth baby”. They had named her Georgia, after Gia. Rue had wanted something meaningful, and they both knew that Gia had been someone that they wanted their daughter to be like. Kind, passionate, loyal.
Georgie threw her spoon on the ground, a stray cheerio flying into her brown ringlets. Jules laughed and kissed her on the nose. Jules kept her in the highchair as she tied balloons to Rue’s seat at the dinner table as she heard the door unlock.
“We’re home!” Rue called out as she set her coat on the coathanger. Jules headed to the front door, kissing Rue and smiling. “I missed you,” she said, leaning down, “And I missed you too Jack!”
Now, Rue and Jules had always been spontaneous, hence moving to the middle of New York, but never had they been as spontaneous as they had been last summer. It was June, just a couple of months after Georgie was born. They were barely sleeping and still figuring out how to be a parent to a seven-pound crying human when Rue got a call.
Lexi and her wife Maggie (who lived in Boston, they made an effort to meet in the middle once a month, going on double dates and vacations) had been in an accident. They were gone. Rue and Jules were devastated and went back to California for the services and to grieve with their families. Lexi and Maggie had a son, he was two and a spitting image of Lexi, and Rue and Jules were left as his guardians. Cassie already had four kids of her own and Lexi had told Rue and Jules that she was appointing them as his guardian before he was born, to which they agreed. They had all thought nothing of it at the time, it seemed so unlikely.
“Mama!” Jack shouted as he jumped into Jules’ arms. She picked him up and stood, kissing Rue again.
“Happy birthday Rue Rue”