A/N: This story was inspired by my thoughts about the talking circles in Act Two of "Gloria: A Life", which I have been lucky to watch in September 2019. I attended the play twice and therefore was present during two talking circles. While I didn't get to share my personal experiences, I did enjoy listening to others and their experiences. I found it incredibly enlightening and strengthening to know other women (also men) had similar experiences to mine.
I began to write this story several days before my family got the news that we would have to terminate Sweet Pea, so once it happened, I didn't want to post this story anymore because it brought me too much pain. Now, two days after we parted with Sweet Pea, I feel like I've gained more insight into the subject that I didn't have before. It still hurts every piece of me to know that I was an auntie, and now I am no longer one, but I felt that this story in its entirety was way more important than my personal loss. Because it's more than a story about terminating a pregnancy. It's a story about women supporting each other and sharing profound experiences.
With that, I want to add two trigger warnings: sexual assault and abortion. Also, in case the story doesn't make it clear, I am pro-choice, so if anyone has issues with that, I recommend that you not read this story.
Sharon Raydor was sitting on the bed and going over her notes for her lecture the following day. She was not sure how she became a keynote speaker at this conference and whether anything she had to say was even interesting, but it was part of the job assigned to her by Chief Pope. In all honestly, she was nervous about public speaking. She didn't have any trouble giving short speeches at events or work when it was required. Still, she did not feel comfortable standing on a stage in front of a hundred people and giving a forty-five minutes lecture about helping shape the rules of a law enforcement agency. She has been doing that for many years and led many initiatives in IA, but she was unsure how to talk about and make it sound engaging and inspiring.
"This is a load of crap," she sighed and threw her notepad on the bed.
"Can't be that bad." Chief Johnson came out of the shower.
"Easy for you to say. Your topic is exciting," Sharon replied.
When Chief Pope had called them both into his office and let them know that they would be speaking on their roles at a convention for law enforcement officers from all across the country and would be sharing a room, they were both apprehensive. Their work relationship has been far from perfect, and the idea of banking together did not sound appealing at all.
"I'm sure you'll do fine," Chief Johnson said. "Read it to me."
"Sure, when you want to fall asleep, I'll give you a few lines," Sharon said.
"You know what you need?"
Sharon was sure Chief Johnson was going to let her know.
"You need to get some food in your stomach. I haven't seen you take a bite all day," the chief said.
Sharon protested, claiming that she was too nervous to eat, but Chief Johnson commanded her to get dressed. Sharon sighed, knowing it was useless to argue with the chief and hoping that maybe she was this nervous because she was hungry.
The chief chose an upscale, almost packed restaurant, but Sharon assumed that the noise might take her mind off her lecture tomorrow.
"What are you taking?" She asked the chief. The menu offered many dishes, and she felt a little lost. She hoped that knowing what Chief Johnson was ordering would help her make a decision.
"The butternut squash gnocchi sounds good," the chief said.
Sharon looked for the dish on the menu and read the description. It did sound very appetizing. "I think I'll take the same thing."
"And I pegged you for a salad kind of person," the chief said as she motioned for their waiter to come to take their order.
"I am, most of the time."
Chief Johnson placed their food orders.
"Anything to drink?" the waiter asked.
"Two glasses of Shiraz." "A glass of water." They replied at the same time.
"Chief, I don't really feel like having a drink tonight," Sharon said.
"First, we're not at work. You can call me Brenda. And second, lighten up. It will help make you less nervous."
Sharon sighed. "Water for me."
Brenda gave her a disappointed look, and Sharon shrugged. There were too many reasons why she didn't feel like drinking tonight.
"Are you really this upset about the lecture tomorrow?" Brenda asked. "Or is it my company?"
"Your company is fine, Brenda. I'm just – I'm worried I'll bore people to death tomorrow."
"Look, Sharon, as annoying as you and your rules can sometimes be, I do appreciate that they exist, and I know that they exist because of you. You have one of the hardest jobs in the entire force, and I'm sure it can't be easy to face hostility and animosity every day. But you've been doing it for two decades, and you are one of the most decorated women in the force, so you have a lot to be proud of."
"I know. I am proud of that, but making those rules is not a glorious process. It's not the same as catching murderers and making them confess. Sometimes, it can be tedious to check the history behind a specific regulation and lookup precedence and loopholes. It can be a real legal mess sometimes," Sharon explained.
"Well, that does sound boring, but you investigate too. Why don't you talk about how you use those rules and regulations to create a stronger police force, maintain order, and prevent the abuse of authority? I'm sure it won't put anyone to sleep because people want to hear about ethics. Maybe speak about a dilemma you've encountered and how you solved it. This kind of thing always sparks interest."
Brenda's suggestions made a lot of sense. Sharon did write about some of that in her lecture, but she could give a couple of examples to spice it up. She thanked Brenda for the advice when the waiter came with their food.
"You know, a guy at the bar is checking you out," Brenda mentioned.
Sharon turned to look and groaned when she saw who it was. "Been there, done that. Not interested."
"Really? You know him?" Brenda asked.
"He was from Reno PD. I've worked with his department and..." Sharon shuddered at the memory of Commander Frank Hanson.
"And what?" Brenda arched an eyebrow.
"Let's just say he didn't leave it at sexual harassment," Sharon said.
"What do you mean?" Brenda asked as she took a sip of her wine.
Sharon played with the food on her plate. "You can't repeat what I tell you to anyone, okay?"
"Of course not," Brenda said and shoved a piece of gnocchi into her mouth.
"I'm serious, not a single word," Sharon warned.
Brenda nodded and leaned her chin on her hand.
"It was about two years ago. Chief Pope asked me to go to Reno and work with their FID through a complicated case. They were investigating a crooked cop, but they had a loophole they tried to resolve. Commander Hanson was the head of FID at the time. From the minute I stepped into his office, he made inappropriate comments and gave me obscene looks. By the end of the day, he asked me to go out with him for a drink."
"Did you go with him?"
"I didn't like him, but he insisted, and I thought I'd play nice, have just one drink with him, and go to my motel room." Sharon paused. To say that she didn't like to remember that particular work trip would be an understatement. "So we had that drink, he walked me to my car, and I drove away. But I didn't realize he had followed me to my motel. While I was in the shower, he walked to the front desk, flashed his badge, and got a second key to my room."
"Jesus, Sharon," Brenda said.
"I was getting out of the shower when he walked into my room and sat on my bed. He was waiting for me with his pants down, and he was jerking off."
Brenda reached for Sharon's hand over the table and squeezed it.
"I should have run back into the bathroom and locked the door, but I froze, and he used the chance to grab me and throw me on the bed. He pinned me down, and I couldn't move, and he just kept jerking off until he came on me. Then he said if I told anyone what happened, he would make sure I won't have a job to go back to and left."
"What did you do?" Brenda asked.
"I called Chief Pope and told him what happened. He helped me press charges. Hanson was forced to retire, but he got to keep his rank, benefits, and pension. Reno PD settled with me for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and that's how it ended," Sharon explained, looking downwards. "Apparently, that's my worth."
"I'm sorry this happened to you," Brenda said and squeezed Sharon's hand again. She turned to look at Hanson again. "What is he doing here?" Brenda asked.
"He's probably attending the convention," Sharon said and moved in her chair uncomfortably. Her stomach twitched painfully. "Listen, I know we were supposed to have a good time, but seeing him here doesn't make me feel safe. Do you mind if we leave?"
"That's okay," Brenda said and motioned for their waiter again. She asked him to pack their food in doggy bags and to bring them their check.
After paying for their meal, they walked back to the hotel. Even though Sharon was not walking alone, she kept looking over her shoulder.
The Captain's apparent fear of being followed by Hanson did not escape Brenda. "Maybe we could talk to security and request that he will be removed from the convention?" she suggested.
"No," Sharon sighed. "I don't wanna make a big deal out of this."
"But it is a big deal. Look at you; you're shaking like a leaf," Brenda said.
Sharon wrapped her arms around herself. "It's cold tonight, that's all."
"It's 89 degrees," Brenda noted.
Sharon simply shrugged.
They walked wordlessly side by side when Brenda finally broke the silence. "I was sexually assaulted by a suspect on my first year in Major Crimes."
"I'm sorry it happened to you, too," Sharon said and bit her bottom lip.
Brenda shrugged, noting that it was a long time ago. "Can I ask you a question?"
Sharon hummed affirmatively.
"Why did you agree to a settlement?" Brenda asked.
"Hanson claimed I invited him to my room after we had a drink and willingly gave him a handjob. He told the officers who investigated him that I didn't want to have sex, so he stopped. The only physical evidence was his semen, so the only thing that proved was that he and I had sexual interaction. It was his word against mine." Sharon sighed.
"That's fucked up," Brenda replied.
"Maybe if I had resisted and fought back, I'd have injuries to prove that I didn't want this."
"Or he could have become more aggressive. You can't blame yourself for what happened to you, Sharon," Brenda said.
"Did you ever get justice for your assault?" Sharon asked, knowing it would make her feel better to know that Brenda's assailant paid for what he had done to her.
"Sort of," Brenda replied.
"I wish there was a way for me to prevent things like this from happening to other women, especially on the force, you know?" Sharon asked.
"I think you're already doing it. You're helping to promote other women in the department, you get rid of dirty cops, and you lead by example," Brenda said and took Sharon's hand. "I know we have our differences, but we're not that different, I guess."
"I guess we're not," Sharon agreed.
Upon returning to their hotel room, Sharon verified three times that the door was locked before she returned to the task of editing her lecture. She was slightly distracted by the unwanted encounter earlier that evening and the noise Brenda made as she prepared for bed. After re-reading her lecture, Sharon was much more satisfied with what she wrote. The text no longer sounded boring; it sounded inspiring.
"Brenda," she said when the other woman crawled into her bed. "Would you come to my lecture tomorrow? It will really boost up my confidence."
"Sure," Brenda said. "Are you still working on your lecture, or can I shut the lights?"
"Just let me brush my teeth before bed," Sharon replied.
The alarm offended Sharon's ears, and she buried her head under the pillow to block the sound. She was exhausted. Even though she did not have any trouble falling asleep the previous night, she had trouble staying that way, as nightmares reigned her dreams. She had gotten up several times during the night to make sure the door and windows were locked.
She heard Brenda going through her morning routine and decided not to get up until Brenda was done. Her body had a different idea, though; her stomach churned and forced her to sprint into the bathroom.
"Hey, you okay?" Brenda peeped from behind the shower curtain.
Sharon kneeled in front of the toilet and emptied the content of her stomach. "Yeah, everything's peachy," she replied as she wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper and flushed the toilet. She brushed her teeth quickly and apologized for interrupting Brenda's shower before she went out of the bathroom.
She went back to bed, feeling as if someone squeezed all the energy out of her. Recently, this feeling has been so frequent that she should have gotten used to it, but she didn't.
"Are you sick?" Brenda came out of the shower a few minutes later.
Sharon peeked at Brenda from under her pillow. "It will go away soon."
"I hope. Because we both ate the same thing last night," Brenda said. "What are you gonna do about your lecture today?"
"I'll do it," Sharon said. "That's what I'm here for, aren't I?"
It took Sharon a while to get ready for her day, but eventually, both she and Brenda made it out of the room in time. Even though Sharon didn't eat anything, they sat at breakfast together and chatted about the convention itinerary. They both had lectures they wanted to attend, and both of them were also giving their lectures today.
They were both exhausted from their day when they returned to their room in the evening. Brenda suggested they'd stay in and order room service for dinner. She produced a pack of cards out of nowhere and convinced Sharon to play War with her. Sharon won three times, but Brenda didn't look frustrated by the repeated losses. Sharon suspected that the younger woman lost on purpose.
Their food came, and Sharon noticed that Brenda watched her like a hawk to see if she was eating.
"What?" she asked the younger woman when the gazes became more intense.
"I'm sorry if this is too personal, but are you sick or something?" Brenda asked. "I mean, not like the flu or anything. Really sick."
Sharon should have expected this. Brenda was a sharp-eyed detective, and no small detail escaped her eyes. She looked at the younger woman and wondered if she was ready to share with her more of her personal life than she already had the previous evening. Maybe it would feel good to tell someone, hear another perspective.
"I'm pregnant," Sharon said quietly.
Her words seemed to surprise Brenda, who put down her fork and looked at Sharon. "Um, congratulations?"
Sharon shook her head, noticing an even more confused expression spreading across Brenda's face. "I'm not keeping it."
"Oh."
"A few months ago, a friend set me up with this guy. I haven't really dated anyone since what happened in Reno, but he sounded like a decent person, and my friend thought he'd be my type, so I decided to give it a shot. And it worked out well for the first three months, so naturally, our relationship became more intimate. And then things didn't work out, and we split up. After a few weeks, I found out that I was knocked up, so I… um, you know."
"How far along are you?" Brenda asked.
"Almost eleven weeks," Sharon sighed. "And to be honest, I feel like I'm drowning most of the time. The nausea, heartburns, and emotional outbursts are killing me. I'm all over the place."
"I was pregnant once," Brenda said. "When I was still with my first husband."
"You didn't end up having it?" Sharon asked.
"I never wanted to have kids, so I had an abortion," Brenda said. "It's a tough decision, even when you know that it's what you want."
"Yeah," Sharon's eyes filled with tears.
"When is your procedure?" Brenda asked.
"In three days," Sharon replied.
"And how do you feel about it?"
"Oh, Gosh," Sharon wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Terrified. I mean, at my age, the thought of having another child makes me cringe, and with my marital status, and abortion is more than warranted."
"Are you doing this because you think it's what you're supposed to do in your situation or because this is what you want?" Brenda wondered.
"I don't want another child, and I don't want to go through another pregnancy, so I guess it is what I want," Sharon replied. "Does it make any sense?"
"Yes, it makes perfect sense," Brenda said.
"What does it feel like after you do it?" Sharon wondered.
"A little sad and empty, especially when you go through that alone. But then you return to normalcy, and your life fills up again. After a while, you don't think about it anymore. At least, that's what it was like for me."
Sharon gave the younger woman a single nod. It was surprising to discover how many similar experiences she and Brenda shared. It was bonding, even if at work their relationship was strained.
"Thank you for sharing, Brenda. I appreciate that," she said. Brenda's constant presence around her in the last couple of days was more comforting than Sharon had expected before going on this trip. She was glad to have a friend around who understood her in more than one way.
The LA sun shone brightly upon Sharon as she stepped outside the abortion clinic. Her body felt weird like it was numb and alert at the same time. Brenda was right. Sharon felt a little sad and empty, like something wasn't quite right but also wasn't wrong.
She noticed a small group of women standing across the street and holding signs that declared that abortion was murder. A sole security guard stood a few steps away from the clinic door and looked at Sharon.
"Do you feel unsafe?" he asked her.
"No, I'm just waiting for someone to pick me up."
It took a few minutes until a white car stopped in front of the clinic, and Sharon got into the passenger seat. She buckled up her seatbelt and gave Brenda a smile of relief.
"How are you feeling?" the younger woman asked.
"I don't know," Sharon said. "I have cramps and weird cravings."
"For what?"
"Pickled eggplants and sour cream," Sharon replied.
Brenda made a disgusted face.
"I know it sounds terrible, but it's actually my comfort food," Sharon replied.
"Don't you prefer normal comfort food, like carbs and sugar?" Brenda asked.
"I'm a savory kind of girl," Sharon smiled at the other woman, who clearly, was unable to see any reason why a normal person would want to eat that kind of stuff.
Sharon brought her knees to her chest and rested her head on them. She found that this position helped relieve her cramps and soothe the dull pain in the pit of her stomach.
"Did it go alright?" Brenda asked when she noticed Sharon's position.
"Yeah, no complications." The doctor told Sharon that she'd experience cramps, exhaustion, and possibly melancholy. He instructed her to stay hydrated, rest as much as she needed, and take mild painkillers for the cramps. He also gave her the number of a hotline she could call if she needed emotional support.
"I swear to God, I wanna run over those pro-lifers with my car," Brenda groaned, and her southern accent made Sharon stifle a smile.
"If you do that, I'll have to investigate you, and I really don't feel like going to that trouble right now," Sharon replied.
"Sure, I'll give them a pass, just this once," Brenda joked.
Sharon dozed off as Brenda navigated through the midday Los Angeles traffic for the next half an hour. When Brenda pulled into the guest parking lot of Sharon's building, she shook Sharon awake gently.
They went upstairs together, and as soon as she opened the door, Sharon was overcome by her exhaustion. She had not slept very well the previous night, and the mere sight of the inside of her condo was enough to make her feel sleepy again. She was sure that by now, the sedation the doctor gave her wore off, even though she was told she might experience drowsiness. But most of all, Sharon felt mentally exhausted. The decision to have an abortion was not an easy one, regardless of the fact that she did not want to have another child, and it made Sharon feel raw in all kinds of ways that she had never felt before.
"So, what do you want for lunch?" Brenda asked.
"I'm not really hungry," Sharon replied and curled on the couch in the living room.
"What about that weird craving you told me about earlier? Where can I get you those pickled eggplants?" Brenda asked.
Sharon shrugged. "There's a Lebanese deli that makes them."
"Well, if you give me the address, I can go get you some of those," Brenda said.
"I know that you want to be here for me, but I don't think I can be sociable right now," Sharon said and hugged a throw pillow to her chest.
"How does it make you different than any other day?" Brenda joked.
"Maybe I'll be nicer if I take a nap," Sharon mumbled and closed her eyes.
When she woke up, the living room of her condo was dark, and a dim light came from the kitchen. A short glance towards her balcony told Sharon that the sun had already set a while ago. She wasn't sure for how long she slept, but she still felt tired, and her cramps were stronger than they were at noon. She pushed the blanket that covered her aside, realizing that it wasn't there when she fell asleep. Brenda must have grabbed it from the back of the armchair and covered her. Sharon pulled herself up from the couch and padded towards the kitchen. Brenda was sitting at the dining table and working on something on her laptop.
"Oh, good. You're awake," Brenda said and pushed her chair back. She walked to the kitchen and lifted a paper bag from the counter.
Sharon was sure this bag had not been there earlier.
"So, I hope it's the right one, but I found a deli that makes pickled eggplants, and I also got you some other stuff," Brenda said.
Sharon watched as the other woman began to array several boxes of Lebanese food on the kitchen counter.
"So we have Labneh, tabbouleh salad, your pickles, some kind of a stuffed ball, and this pita thing with olive oil and hyssop," Brenda listed all the food she bought.
Sharon's jaw nearly dropped at the sight of so much food. She loved Lebanese food and found it very comforting and fulfilling, but she never expected Brenda to go to the deli and pick up practically everything they had.
"And I also stopped by the pharmacy and got you these." Brenda pulled out a package of heating patches and a bottle of ibuprofen from the same paper bag. "These will help with the cramps."
Sharon wasn't sure what to say. It's been a long time since anyone took care of her. With both of her kids away, and Jack absent from her life, Sharon had spent the last two years on her own. She had some friends, but none of them were close, and while she didn't feel lonely most of the time, she was alone. And somehow, through shared life experiences, she struck an odd friendship with her workplace foe. Now Brenda was here, taking care of Sharon, even though she had never asked her to pick her up from the clinic or feed her. And if Sharon was honest with herself, she didn't exactly view the chief as a particularly giving person. She was sure Brenda had gone far out of her way to help Sharon out.
But what struck Sharon the most was that she had not realized how badly she craved that kindness. She was so used to her colleagues looking at her with suspicion and mistrust that Brenda's expression of sympathy made Sharon's heart shatter into pieces. Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could hold herself back, she found herself leaning against the kitchen counter and sobbing into her palms uncontrollably.
Sharon felt Brenda's soft hand landing on her back, providing silent support, and letting her know she was not alone. At least not today.
THE END