The misfit Barbies, a group of 5, met for lunch every month.
They had decided against doing something weekly, claiming they lacked the availability, but, really, they didn’t want to so obviously band together in the name of freakdom and develop tight bonds out of being ostracized. Instead, as if decided telepathically, they settled on a regular situation but with a breathing room that left them feeling dignified, less desperate.
And it was at the third monthly lunch, this time at a salad bar when the entrees arrive like neon green mountains, that Cali Girl Barbie got the idea that Midge, forever pregnant Barbie, might be bisexual like her.
The biggest clue came when, post-meal, everyone’s stacked salad withered down to a bump of leaves with crumpled napkins tossed onto respective plates, Midge asked around for lip balm (“It’s okay if it’s too gross too share, I just hate a dry pair…”) and when Cali offered her ring of Lip Smackers, the mother-to-be picked Kiwi without a moment’s hesitation.
Most young women would snatch at strawberry or vanilla, perhaps debate between wild raspberry or tropical punch, weighing the fruity differences in their palm, but kiwi, that was the queer one, the tangy one–the fruit it was based on more exotic, its insides something like a bursting star among green pulp rather than just negative space.
The choice of lip balm, her renaissance faire braids, and her choice of purple rather than pink...there was something off about Midge, in a good way, a way that Cali felt seen, seeing herself–a blurry reflection she could reach out and touch.
And wouldn’t it make sense that there would be outsiders in the group of outsiders?
Soon, Hip 2 Be Square Barbie had to leave to help set up her gallery showing that everyone promised to swing by later. Fairytopia Barbie needed to head home, butcher deer meat before it turned. And, token drama queen, Mermaid Fantasy Barbie left them a duo, claiming she “couldn’t breathe.”
But then, check paid, table cleared, Midge and Cali found themselves without plans, wanting to continue the hang.
“I don’t have anything going on, do you?” Cali asked, surprised by the nervous waiver in her voice.
Midge pointed to her belly. “Just the fetus…”
And Cali laughed, too hard, and cut it off with a clearing of her throat. “Wanna…” She swallowed. “...Go for a walk? Wait. Do your feet hurt? Considering…”
“You can say ‘pregnant’!” Midge chuckled. “And yes, my feet hurt all the time, but that shouldn’t stop us.”
It would’ve been fine if Midge had declined the offer, Cali understood carrying a child to be something like a burden, a parasitic situation but one that its host was programmed to love, but she found this woman embracing her constant pain to be heroic–a mix of masculine and feminine that Cali was attracted to. She was into this chick.
“Are you excited about being a mom?” Cali asked.
“Yes, though it feels like the day will never come…” She glanced down at her belly, forlorn. “Do you want kids?”
Cali skirted behind Midge to let a fellow pedestrian by. “Nah. I’d wouldn’t know how to not treat them like an adult, ya know? I’d worry that I wasn’t allowing them to have a childhood.”
“Sort of... But I get it: not everyone is supposed to be a mother or even wants to be one.”
Wanting to stop mid-stroll, Cali was surprised to hear such a thing. Most people told her to stop thinking about the beach or the next big wave and focus on her future, a reproductive one.
But the beach was her passion, she’d been born into a pair of board shorts because she was supposed to ride, keep her toes in the water and sand, anything besides a comfortable pair of walking shoes while she pushed the stroller, trying to get her daily steps in.
Most people didn’t get that, but Midge was allowing her the space, listening to her instead of shoving pre-determined gender roles down her throat like she was some duck farmed for foie gras.
This, and her born nerve, got Cali to speak up. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Confused, Midge cocked her head. “No, I–”
Cali couldn’t wait for a full reply. If another moment passed, she might think herself too gutsy and too forward to go along with it. “Would you wanna grab a drink some time?”
They both looked down at Midge’s protruding stomach.
“I mean,” Cali shook her head. “Would you wanna go on a date. With me. Some...time?”
It was a neurotic ask, a messy offer, but Cali was proud of sticking to her guns.
A dog walker strolled up the sidewalk with four roaming dogs, sniffing everything in sight, clogging the sidewalk.
Midge had opened her mouth to speak, but, as the one to see the canines coming, she first pulled at Cali’s shoulder with a light grasp. And though the touch didn’t exactly give her butterflies, as she made room for the roaming crowd, Cali felt a warmth at being considered by this woman.
“Sure,” Midge said, a clipped eagerness in her tone. “I’d love that.”
Cali turned back to the dogwalker as if Midge had started another conversation around her, but the gang was already trotting away, two stores over. Midge had replied to her. With a good news.
“Oh,” Cali said. “Great!”
“I do have to ask,” Midge said with narrowing eyes.
Steeling herself, Cali prepared for a “just friends” rejection.
“Who told you I was bi?” Midge asked.
