All In

"Oh god yes," she moaned in delight.

I nearly dropped my tablet on the floor when I realized what I was hearing. My face flushed as Ami's voice overlapped with the memory of her naked body, and my mind started wandering in dangerous directions.

Ami wasn't exactly helping things either. "Oh fuck, yes, just like that!" she whimpered. My mind was racing. While I had an overall idea of what her body looked like, some of the details still eluded me.

I started to imagine Ami touching herself, gently stroking her labia, working a finger or two inside. "Yes, yes, yes!" she cried. I started to imagine that I was the one touching her, kissing her, giving her the satisfaction she craved. "Fuck!" she squealed in ecstasy, the unmistakable echo of her climax reverberating through the walls.

I made a valiant effort to seem intently focused on my book as my friend stepped outside. Her body was wrapped in white robe, with her hair bound up in a towel. "Hi!" she said loudly, startled. "You're home."

"Yeah, slow day, got off early," I said casually, cringing inwardly at my choice of phrase.

"You didn't hear anything, did you?" Ami asked suspiciously.

I have never been particularly good at lying, particularly to my best and oldest friend. My parents I could fool, but Ami always saw right through me. "Just a rather enthusiastic cover of the Frozen soundtrack. Idina would be very proud," I said, hoping she would leave it at that.

"Good to know." She accepted the compliment, but I could tell she wasn't satisfied. "You didn't hear anything else, did you?"

Crap. "No."

Ami scowled. "You're a terrible liar," she said. Her cheeks started to redden.

"It's no big deal. Everybody does it. I do it," I said magnanimously.

"I know. We shared an apartment in college," Ami retorted sardonically. Since when did this become about me?

Two could play at this game. "Still, who would have thought my Ami was a screamer?" I teased.

"God," Ami groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I am never gonna live this down am I?"

"Relax. I promise only to bring it up in front of complete strangers," I promised.

"Thanks, thanks for that," she replied, punching me in lightly in the arm. She sighed deeply. "I swear; these hormones are driving me crazy."

"Really?" I asked. Ami was into her second trimester, her condition noticeable to even a casual observer. I heard rumors about pregnancy increasing sex drive, but I didn't know how well grounded they were.

"It's bad Sarah," Ami confided. "The girls at work warned that my libido would kick into overdrive, but I had no idea it would be this intense. I swear, I have never been this horny in my entire life. A guy showed up to deliver a package today. I was this close to inviting him in." She paused for a moment, horror struck at her own candor. "Wow. Okay. Way too much information. I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"You sure? You're not freaked out?"

"It's a little weird," I admitted. "Hetero sex isn't exactly my forte. I mean, I know the mechanics of it, but the details have always been your area."

"Obviously," Ami replied, rubbing her swollen belly for emphasis.

"It's just, thinking of you...like that, with how close we've been lately and everything. I don't know, I guess it's a little confusing sometimes," I confessed. I admitted more than I meant to and I think Ami realized it as well. Her robe was nearly open, her swollen breasts barely contained behind the meager layer of cotton.

"I understand," she said, barely above a whisper. "For the record, it's been a little confusing for me too. And I don't think I can blame it on the hormones."

-

"How many times have we seen this movie?" Ami asked as Peter, Ray, Egon, and Winston blasted a giant marshmallow man with radioactive energy.

"I have no idea. I think we've watched it at least five times a year since we were kids," I replied thoughtfully.

"So much better than Caddyshack."

"Definitely."

"And Star Wars."

"Blasphemy!" I exclaimed, melodramatically.

"Ewoks, Sarah. Ewoks," Ami pointed out knowingly.

"Point Ami."

"God, I had the biggest crush on Egon when I was a kid. Rest in peace Harold Ramis," she said wistfully.

"You have strange taste."

"Oh my god," Ami shouted, clutching her stomach with her hands.

"Everything ok?" I asked.

"I think she kicked."

"Really?"

"Uh huh. She did it again. Feel," Ami said, grabbing my hand and placing it on her belly. "Here."

"Whoa." Seeing the ultrasound was one thing, actually feeling her moving against my palm was something else altogether. I felt a sudden surge of affection for the both of them.

"This is amazing Ami. I'm glad I get to be a part of it," I said, trying very hard not to cry. I wasn't successful.

"There's no one I'd rather share it with. I love you Sarah," Ami replied, squeezing my hand for emphasis.

"I love you too."

-

"Can you do me a favor?"

"They should put that on your family crest," I quipped.

"Har har. Anyway, I'm having lunch with Mom today. I've been putting her off for weeks, but she managed to pin me down," Ami explained.

"I take it you haven't told her the good news?" I asked.

"I'm thinking of telling her I've just gotten really fat," she replied thoughtfully.

"I don't think that's going to work." Ami was one of the lucky ones. Pregnancy mostly went to her breasts and belly. Her hips were a little curvier too, but there was no way she could pass off her condition as weight gain.

Ami sighed. "Me either. Anyway, I could use some moral support. Are you free?"

"I think I can make that work, yeah. Where are we meeting?" I asked.

"Taj of India."

"Really? She's been in America for what, thirty years? You'd think she'd have grown accustomed to the local cuisine by now."

"I think she just misses Dad," Ami said sadly. Her father passed away about five years ago. Their relationship was hit and miss, mostly because his daughter was far too American for his taste. Still, she loved him and she missed him.

"At least you don't have to tell him."

"I know, right?" Ami snorted, appalled at the thought. "If he stuck around long enough to see his unmarried daughter get herself knocked up, he'd have had two strokes. For as long as he lived in here, Dad could be surprisingly old world."

"Tell me about it. I'm surprised he didn't forbid us from seeing each other after I came out," I muttered. Dyke, deviant, sick, pervert, these and other lovely words were his primary means of describing people like me. I tried not to take it personally.

"He did. In fact, he was afraid you might convert me," Ami confessed.

"Huh. Well, good thing it doesn't work like that, right?" I said, trying to stay glib.

"Yeah," Ami said quietly. "Good thing."

-

Ami's mother was always super early for everything, and even though we rushed to beat her, she was already seated with a glass of water by the time we made it to the restaurant. "Hi Mom," Ami said nervously.

Mrs. Subramani stared as I helped my pregnant friend into her seat. She tilted her head slightly, like a cat considering her next meal. "So, I take it you have some news for me?" she said slowly.

I rubbed Ami's back soothingly. "I'm pregnant," she said simply.

The older woman inhaled deeply. She ran her finger along the rim of her glass, staring at the ice cubes. "I see. When's the wedding?"

"There's not going to be a wedding Mom. Paul and I broke up," Ami explained timidly.

Mrs. Subramani looked up sharply. "Well that is just unacceptable," she scowled. "I told you this would happen Amita. The years you wasted on that man, living in sin, only for him to abandon you the moment you get into trouble."

Ami fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm pregnant Mom, I'm not 'in trouble,'" she air quoted.

"Do you even have a place to live?"

"She's staying with me," I affirmed, trying to sound confident. Even thought I'd known this woman for the better part of two decades, Mrs. Subramani still scared the shit out of me.

"Wonderful," she said, her voice dripping with heavily accented sarcasm. "So now you're dragging her into this. Honestly Amita."

"Mom, this is a good thing," Ami pleaded. "I'm happy. Sarah is happy for me. You should be too."

"You can't raise this baby alone Amita."

"She's got me," I insisted.

"That's not what I meant Sarah," Mom replied irritably. "Ami needs a husband. Not one of your modern American relationships."

"Mom, I know that this isn't what you wanted for me," Ami explained firmly. "It isn't exactly how I pictured becoming a mother either. But we're good. Sarah has been amazing."

"What am I supposed to tell my sisters? That my only daughter went and got herself knocked up, then shacked up with some pervert?" she scoffed.

"Wow. Guess we're not pulling any punches," I growled. Thirty years in America hadn't done much to moderate the elder woman's views, and the fact that I was her daughters best and oldest friend did not make me immune to casual bigotry.

Ami was fed up. "Let's go Sarah," she said, standing up. She took out her purse and tossed a couple of bills on the table, even though we hadn't ordered anything. "Mom, in a few months you're going to be a grandmother. Maybe you should figure out what kind you want to be." With that, we turned and left.

-

"Unbelievable."

"You were expecting better?" I asked shrewdly.

"Not really," Ami admitted. "But that was low."

I sighed. "She has a point. You're never going to meet anyone if everyone assumes that you're, you know, off the market."

Ami glared at me. "I don't care. You have been so good to me. I couldn't have asked for a better partner." Ami stared at her hand for a minute, rubbing her empty ring finger. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'm actually glad things didn't work out with Paul."

"Really?" My throat was starting to get dry.

"You're my best friend, the best part of my life," Ami explained. Her voice was thick with emotion, but it was clear and true. "I can't imagine loving anyone else the way I love you."

"Ami, this thing we're doing, whatever it is. I'm in. I'm all in. No matter what," I said firmly. And when she smiled back at me, I knew that I would never love anyone else the same way.

-

For reasons best known to her, my cousin Judy decided to make me her maid of honor. In her mind, the two of us were best friends, and even though I made it abundantly clear that I did not have the time or the inclination to help plan her wedding, I still found myself in trapped in a public speaking role. My occasional bouts of PTSD were replaced with nightmares of me standing at the microphone naked while Ami and Paul made out on the dance floor.

"You're going to do fine," Ami insisted as she brushed my hair and put on my makeup. I tend to err on the side of no effort put in when it comes to looking pretty. I tried doing my own make up for prom and ended up looking like a sad clown hooker.

"I am going to freeze. I always do. Public speaking, not my thing. There's a reason I spend all day behind a monitor. I do not have good people skills," I insisted.

"Have you tried picturing the audience naked?" she offered.

"Considering the audience consists of my relatives, none of which I want to see naked and few of which no one should have to see naked, I think a different strategy is in order," I replied.

"Pick a point in the room and stare at it?"

"I usually end up looking at a person or near a person and it comes off all eye-rapey."

"Okay, how about practicing in front of the mirror?" Ami asked.

"No, then I just get all self-conscious and wonder if my nose is all weird or if my teeth are too big," I said, shaking my head.

"So, basically you're a crazy person."

"Basically, yes. How is this helping by the way?" I asked irritably.

Ami laughed. "By helping you get past the real problem," she replied.

"And that is?"

"Overthinking it," she said, as if it were obvious. "Sweetie, I love you, but you overthink everything. Sometimes you have to take that leap of faith, so to speak. Stop worrying and just jump."

"Just jump, huh?" I said skeptically.

"You've got this. Speak from the heart and you'll be fine. I promise," Ami said confidently.

"Okay, I trust you," I sighed.

"Good. And worst case scenario if you blow the whole thing and sound like a total idiot, at least you'll look gorgeous doing it," Ami said proudly.

She turned me to face the mirror, and I was pleasantly surprised by my reflection. My eyes didn't look all squinty, you could actually tell that I had lips, and my hair looked more like gold than straw. I actually looked kind of hot. "Wow. I actually look kind of okay," I murmured, slightly awestruck.

"You look beautiful," Ami proclaimed. "Say you look beautiful."

"I look beautiful," I repeated.

"Good. Now tell me I look amazing, because my body has gone all funhouse mirror on me and I'm feeling incredibly insecure about it."

She had no reason to be. She wore a sapphire sari, using the wedding as an excuse to go full desi. Despite the loosely draped fabric, a casual observer could tell she was pregnant. Even though Ami didn't believe me, I thought pregnancy made her more beautiful, not less. "You look amazing," I said earnestly.

"You're sweet. You're a liar, but you're sweet."

-

I could actually hear my heart in my ears, drowning out the chatter and the music. The best man was wrapping up his series of anecdotes and goofy jokes, and I was about thirty seconds away from bolting straight through the wall, leaving behind a Sarah shaped hole. Seriously, I was less terrified when I was getting shot at.

Ami must have seen me shaking as I made my way to the microphone. She smiled at me, moved her hand out from her mouth, then pointing towards the center of her chest. Speak from the heart. Easier said than done.

I almost dropped the microphone, fumbling to adjust the height on the stand. I stood there like an idiot for what felt like an eternity before I finally started talking. "So, I'm Sarah. Huh. For a second, I thought you were all gonna say, 'Hi Sarah,' like at an AA meeting or something. Not that I'm an alcoholic or anything," I stammered. Great job Sarah. Strong opening.

I took a deep breath, and just looked at Ami, and suddenly I was speaking again. "Judy, Sam, I have to admit, I envy you. You didn't just hit it off with the cute guy at the office or score with the hot girl at the bar. You fell in love with you best friend. The person that makes you laugh when you want to cry. The person that you can talk about anything or nothing with. The person that makes you want to be...better," I said.

Ami's smile faded into something else, an expression I couldn't quite read. I continued, never looking away from her. "The person that just, gets you. That doesn't just love you in spite of your flaws, but loves you because of them. The person that makes you feel like you can do anything. There is nothing I wouldn't give to spend the rest of my life with that person. If only we could all be that lucky. And so, Judy, Sam, I wish you the very best. To the happy couple," I finished, raising my glass.

"To the happy couple," the crowd echoed. All except Ami. She just watched me, her face still unreadable.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, as far as weddings go. There were toasts, drinks, and dances. Ami and I danced a few times, but mostly I ended up dancing with various relatives on both sides of the new family. I forgot sometimes how many Caulfields there were until we gathered in one location.

Once the party started winding down, Ami and I headed back to our place. She didn't say much, just idle chit-chat about the party, Judy's dress, my overly inquisitive uncle, and the like. I spend the entire ride home deconstructing what increasingly seemed to be an insane public declaration of love to my very straight best friend.

What the hell was I thinking? Seriously? I never wanted to be that girl. I spent ten years fighting not to be that girl, not to be that sad lesbian that crushes on a straight girl and gets her heart broken. By the time we got home, I just wanted to kick of my heels, put on some sweatpants, climb into bed with a couple bottles of cheap wine, and drink away the weekend.

Ami had other plans. "Sarah, that speech you gave today. It was beautiful," she said quietly.

Great. We were finally going to have the talk. At this point I was too tired, to raw to try to tap dance around it. "Well, I just did what you said. Spoke from the heart," I replied.

Ami wasn't one to tap dance either. "Sarah, do you have feelings for me?" she asked.

"No," I said quickly, lying out of habit more than intent.

"Sarah, I can tell when you're lying," Ami said softly, but firmly.

"Really? Because I've been lying to you for over a decade," I blurted out, my throat ragged. I was tired, so, so tired. Tired of pretending I wasn't in love with her. I just couldn't do it anymore.

Ami's eyes widened, but her gaze didn't waver. "You've felt this way for years, and you never told me?" she asked, pain and confusion seeping into her voice.

"What good would it have done?" I choked. Ami didn't say anything in return. I decided that I couldn't make it worse, so I continued. "I fell in love with you when I was thirteen years old. Thirteen, Ami. That's way too young to feel something that big and that complicated, and I didn't always handle it well. It took me years to figure out how to be your friend without wanting, without hoping for more. And now, these last few months, it felt like things were changing between us, and for a minute I started to think..."

Fear and doubt washed over me. I felt like I was thirteen all over again, like the moment after the moment I first kissed Ami on a dare, the one where I realized that it didn't mean the same thing to her that it meant to me. "It doesn't matter," I continued. "So go ahead. Do what you have to do," I said, defeated.

"What are you talking about?" Ami asked.

"Tell me how much you care about me. Tell me how much you treasure our friendship, how you would never want to hurt me. Tell me how you want nothing more than for me to be happy," I said, anticipating the words before I heard them. "Tell me you love me...but not like that."

"I can't," Amie whispered.

"Why not?" I demanded

"Because I'd be lying."

It was like time itself had slowed to a crawl. Ami stood there, her eyes blazing, almost defiantly, waiting for me to say or do something. That horrible little nagging voice was still there, the one that said I was one bad decision away from getting my heart broken and ruining what we had forever. But for the first time since we were children, I didn't listen.

I jumped.

I took Ami's face in my hands, brushing the strands of her silky dark hair with my fingertips. My heart thundered in my ears again, this time more from excitement than fear. She closed her eyes as I leaned in and kissed her.

Kissing Ami was like that moment just as you crest the top of a roller coaster, that exciting mixture of panic and delight. I'd waited so long, had built it up so much, I almost couldn't believe it was happening. I could barely move, terrified that if I opened my eyes I'd find myself kissing air.

Then, something wonderful happened. She started kissing me back. Gently, and a little uncertain at first, like riding a bike for the first time. Then she got bolder. And I finally felt it.

I felt love, Ami's love, all her love, pouring into me. I felt loved in ways that I didn't think were possible. In ways I didn't think I deserved.

"Whoa," she murmured, out of breath.