“You’ve given me every excuse but one, the only one that matters,” Meryn said softly. “You haven’t said how you feel. About me.”
Tell her. Tell her you don’t love her. Make her leave.
At Henrietta’s hesitation, Meryn said, “If you don’t feel the same, just say so. I’ll never bring it up again. And I’ll leave if you want me to.”
“I don’t.”
Meryn’s head dropped. “Okay.”
“No.” Henrietta grasped for words. “I don’t want you to leave. And…” She’d never imagined herself ever saying these words to anyone. It was terrifying. “And I do love you. Very much.”
Meryn’s head lifted slowly. “You do?”
Henrietta was certain she was going to pass out if her heart beat any faster. “Of course I do,” she said brusquely. “How could I not? What with you falling out of that blasted boat, and crashing my car into the wall, and turning the entire house upside down with…” Her voice caught. “I do.”
Meryn got up and approached the sofa. Petrified, Henrietta sat frozen in place, but Meryn went around to the back of the couch and wrapped her arms around Henrietta from behind. Her cheek, so soft, so warm, pressed to Henrietta’s as her arms cradled her gently. Tentatively, Henrietta reached up to clasp Meryn’s arms in her gnarled hands.
“Thank you, Henrietta,” Meryn whispered.
She kissed Henrietta’s cheek, her lips lingering a moment, before she straightened and went to her room.
Chapter 19
Nothing had changed and everything had changed.
Ryn dove back into the semester. Her routine was basically as it had always been, but nothing was the same. Her increased teaching load felt lighter. Even Jerry Talbert’s sour face couldn’t dampen her enthusiasm. Most of her students had passed her midterms with good grades—that boded well for her performance evaluation, no matter what Talbert might have against her.
Beverly eyed her suspiciously near the end of the first week back. “What are you so happy about?”
“Nothing in particular,” Ryn said, trying not to grin. “Just had a good break. How was yours?”
If Beverly noticed the deflection, she played along.
“Come with me,” she said, leading the way down the corridor to Geary’s office.
Ryn hung back, but Beverly grabbed her by the hand and dragged her inside.
“He must have come in over break. Cleared out all of his things.”
Beverly was right. The office was empty. Geary’s desk was clean, his bookshelves empty, all the frames on the wall gone, leaving only the nails.
“Do you want to move your office?” Beverly asked. “I’ll help you.”
Ryn looked around. This room was bigger, with two windows—“and the computer,” she said. “I won’t have to go to the library.”
She and Beverly spent a couple of hours getting her things moved out of the broom closet and settled in the other office. They rearranged the desks so that she could have one next to a window.
“Thank you so much,” Ryn said, sitting at her new desk.
Beverly gave a little sniff. “One more thing.” She trotted back to her office and returned a moment later with a can of air freshener, which she sprayed liberally.
“Oh, that’s much better,” Ryn said. “No more man-smell.”
Beverly giggled. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
She frequently caught sight of Roberta and Franny and Steph across campus, but noticed Tamara wasn’t with them as often as she used to be. She kept thinking she should catch up with Franny to fill her in on what had happened after their conversation, but she wasn’t sure what to say.
At home, her interactions with Henrietta would have seemed the same to an outside observer, but little changes made it all feel different. Brief touches to shoulders or arm, lingering eye contact—it surprised Ryn how intimate those small things were. She still experienced a thrill inside every time she replayed that conversation in her head. If Ryn had needed any further proof of how Henrietta really felt, it had been how hard Henrietta had tried to push her away, to protect her.
“What are you grinning about?”
Startled, Ryn looked up to see Franny beside her on the campus crosswalk. She grinned. “You must have read my mind. I was just thinking about you.”
Franny scoffed. “Whatever you were thinking about, I don’t think it was me.”
“Well…” Ryn’s face burned. “It was indirectly about you.”
“You talked to Henrietta?”
Ryn couldn’t suppress a smile as she nodded.
“And she feels the same way?”
Ryn’s smile widened, and she nodded again. “I mean, nothing… it’s not…”
“I’m happy for both of you.”
“Franny, I really can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t listened, encouraged me to be honest with her…”
The chapel bell tolled.
“Come to Mass with me.”
Ryn drew up. It had been ages. “Is Tamara going to be there?”
“Probably.” Franny tugged on Ryn’s arm. “You and Tamara need to be able to be in the same space without it being weird. Come on.”
Ryn allowed herself to be steered toward the chapel. Steph and Roberta waved and scooted over to make room. Tamara’s face, though, was anything but welcoming. Ryn gave her a smile and sat, grateful there were three people between them.
The chapel was decorated in somber purples for Lent. She’d nearly forgotten what season it was. She’d been so wrapped up in all of her extra work after Geary left that she hadn’t even realized Easter was fast approaching. This whole year was flying by.
What would happen if her position here wasn’t extended? She really should be updating her CV and preparing to apply elsewhere, but it was hard to think about leaving this village, these people, Henrietta.
She stole a few glances down the pew to Tam, who met and held her gaze for several seconds. Nothing. She could honestly say that she felt nothing. She sat back. Eight months ago, if someone had told her that her heart would belong to Henrietta rather than Tamara, she would have said they were crazy.
She smiled. Hooray for crazy.
Henrietta stopped in front of the mirror for the fifth time. “You look ridiculous.”
She untied the colorful silk scarf she’d added to her outfit and tossed it on the dresser. Surveying her image—drab gray blouse, navy blue jacket and skirt—this was the Henrietta the club women expected.
“What would Meryn urge you to do?” she asked her reflection.
That had become her refrain for so many things over the last few weeks. Though she was still weighed down by her noisy and restrictive braces, she felt she could almost float. She, Henrietta Cochran, had a lover. Kind of.
She honestly couldn’t imagine—wouldn’t let herself imagine—having Meryn as a real lover, but the confession of their mutual feelings was as good as.
Only that little niggle of doubt kept creeping in. Is it good enough for her? Will it be forever?
“But she loves you. She said so.”
Feeling more defiant, more confident, she reached for the scarf—a Christmas gift from Bonnie years ago that she’d never worn—and draped it around her neck.
Walking into the club a few minutes later, she got a few double takes and curious glances from the other women as they took seats around the tables set for bridge.
“You look very nice, Henrietta,” said Mary Ellen Greene, sitting to Henrietta’s right.
“Thank you.” Henrietta tried not to blush.
“Yes,” said Genevieve Talbert from a neighboring table. “Did you hire a new fashion consultant?”
The benign words didn’t hide her waspish tone, triggering a few titters from some of the other women.
Henrietta ignored her as the other two chairs were filled. “Shall we draw to see who deals?”
Though she tried to keep her mind on the game, she couldn’t avoid overhearing the bits of gossip from
Genevieve and the women at her table.
“My sister went to the city last week. She saw some of the most shocking women, at least she thinks they were women, but with those lesbos, it’s hard to tell. They all had short men’s haircuts and wore men’s clothing. Honestly, how could any woman be attracted to a fake man?”
Henrietta missed a trick. “Henrietta!” Mary Ellen snapped.
“Sorry.”
“And…” Genevieve’s voice lowered into that carrying whisper that immediately had most of the women craning their necks to listen to her. “They all wear that symbol, that axe with two blades, like some kind of advertisement. It’s disgusting how brazenly they parade their abnormality.”
Henrietta felt the blood drain from her face. She forced herself to stick it out for the rest of the game, but excused herself from the luncheon.
“I’m not feeling well,” she mumbled to Mary Ellen.
Calling for her car, she realized her hands were trembling as she waited in the foyer. Genevieve’s comments were aimed specifically at her. She had no idea if any of the others realized it, but she certainly did.
At the bottom of the club’s drive, she hesitated. Instead of pulling into her own driveway, she drove on into the village. She found parking in the library’s lot.
Inside, her heart fell when she didn’t see Maxine at the desk. She turned to leave.
“Henrietta!”
Maxine stepped out from the shelves with an armful of books. “How nice to see you.” Her eyes ran curiously over Henrietta’s face.
“I shouldn’t have bothered you while you’re at work,” Henrietta said, feeling self-conscious now that she was here.
“Don’t be silly.” Maxine set her books down. “Sherry, I’m going to be in the small conference room with Miss Cochran.”
Henrietta proudly noticed her art still being displayed on the walls as she followed Maxine to the back of the library. From this vantage point, she was able to study Maxine. Her hair, unbound today, had wonderful streaks of silver running through the black curls, and her clothing flowed like air around her as she moved. Everything about her was graceful, feminine, sensuous—everything I’m not, Henrietta thought as she clanked along behind her.
Maxine showed her into a room with a small conference table and six chairs. She closed the door and sat across from Henrietta.
“What can I do for you?” Her eyes lowered to the scarf. “That’s beautiful.”
Henrietta touched her fingers to it, and she wished she’d remembered to take it off in the car.
Maxine angled her head, and she studied Henrietta closely. “But I don’t think you wore that for me.”
“No. I just came from bridge at the country club.”
Maxine’s nostrils flared and a subtle coolness settled over her features.
“Is there something wrong?” Henrietta asked hesitantly.
“I didn’t realize you were a member there,” Maxine said.
“We have been, I mean, I grew up with my parents being members there. And I’ve just continued.” She frowned. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all.” But Maxine’s even cooler tone belied her response. Henrietta’s confusion must have shown on her face, because Maxine smiled. “It’s not your fault.”
Henrietta felt completely at sea. “What’s not my fault?”
“That club’s segregationist policies.”
Henrietta blinked a few times. “Its… what?”
Maxine pursed her lips for a moment. “You really don’t know, do you? Haven’t you ever noticed, there’s not a single black or Jewish member at that club.”
“That can’t…” But Henrietta stopped, trying to think.
Maxine leaned forward. “There are blacks in the kitchen, but you’ve never had a black server in the dining room, have you? And I can promise you, there are no Jews anywhere on that property.”
Henrietta was gobsmacked. “How could I not know that?”
“Like you said, you grew up there. You probably play cards with women who grew up there.”
“Yes, some of them. I’ve known them most of my life. But—”
“I’m sorry,” Maxine cut in. “I’m sure you didn’t come here to get a lecture from me on the country club’s history of discrimination.”
“No.” Henrietta fingered the scarf again. “But it’s all of a piece, isn’t it?”
Maxine’s eyebrows raised. “What is?”
“They know. Or at least one of the women I play bridge with knows about Meryn. And she’s the wife of Meryn’s department chair.”
“What does she know?”
“I’m sorry. She was making all kinds of crude comments about lesbians being fake men, and she mentioned that symbol, the two-bladed axe—”
“The labrys?”
“Yes. Meryn has that among the many bumper stickers on her car.” Henrietta’s fingers twiddled with the loose knot on the scarf. “She told me, when I met her, that she was open about… about that. That she wouldn’t lie and she wouldn’t hide.” Her eyes flashed. “And I don’t want her to.”
Maxine’s face softened. “You do love her.”
It was one thing, terrifying enough, to admit it to Meryn herself, but… Henrietta nodded.
“After our dinner with you and Sandy, Meryn was odd, unsettled. And I suppose I was, too. She left one evening. For a little while, I wasn’t sure she was coming back, but when she did, she wanted to talk.”
Henrietta paused. She’d not said it aloud to anyone else. “She loves me, too.”
Maxine reached across the table and took Henrietta’s hand in hers. “I’m so happy for both of you.”
Henrietta looked into her dark eyes and saw nothing but joy and acceptance—all the things she would never see in the eyes of the women she’d considered her friends for decades. It felt as if her life was being flipped upside down.
At her hesitation, Maxine’s brow creased. “Aren’t you happy?”
“Yes, but…” Henrietta felt like an absolute fool, but there was no one else she could talk to. “Our age difference is so vast, thirty years. And…” She flushed in embarrassment. “Physically, I don’t know how to…”
“Henrietta,” Maxine squeezed her hand, “there are no rules. And I suspect Meryn would say she has no expectations. Whatever happens—or doesn’t—between you, is for you to decide. It’s no one else’s business.”
“But what if she needs or wants…” Henrietta couldn’t complete that thought. Even with Maxine, it was too personal.
“Then you’ll talk about it. You’ll work it out. That’s what people in relationships do.”
Henrietta stared into Maxine’s reassuring eyes again, feeling calmer than she had in a long time. “Would you and Sandy come to dinner this weekend?”
Maxine’s face broke into a radiant smile. “We’d love to.”
“Your home truly is lovely.”
Maxine and Sandy stood in the studio, Sandy squatting to peruse the canvases stacked against the wall while Maxine gazed out the windows.
The April weather had started to hint at spring, with longer days and warmer temperatures, though piles of snow still lay in the shadowed areas that didn’t receive any sunlight.
“We could take a walk down to the pond if you’d like.” Ryn turned to Henrietta. “I went down with a shovel earlier to make sure everything was scraped clean. It’s safe.”
Sandy stood. “Could we?”
Ryn got a light coat and held it up for Henrietta. “You should put this on, though.”
She caught the glance Sandy exchanged with Maxine as she helped Henrietta. These two were a godsend. It was so nice to have another couple to talk to, to do things with. Ryn had been surprised to come home a few days ago to learn that Henrietta had invited them. After their last dinner with them—the one where Henrietta had sworn she and Ryn weren’t together—Ryn hadn’t been sure Henrietta would want to see them again.
“Did you ask them if they’re vegetarian?” she
’d asked when Henrietta told her she’d invited them for dinner.
“Vegetarian?” Henrietta had stared at her. “Why would I ask that?”
“Lots of lesbians are. They served us lentil soup and cornbread. I can’t remember what they ate the day they helped me paint my room.”
“Oh.” Henrietta had frowned. “But they eat fish.”
“True.” Ryn had pondered. “Let’s do spaghetti and marinara sauce. I can make meatballs for anyone who wants them. And we’ll do garlic bread.”
The sauce simmered on the stove as they headed down the paved walk to the pond.
“What a nice spot, Henrietta,” Sandy said. “I can see why you paint this so often.”
Maxine pointed. “And that’s the famous rowboat?”
Henrietta chuckled. “Probably with the famous snake coiled up inside.”
“That would have scared anyone,” Ryn grumbled, but she was smiling. “I wasn’t expecting a passenger.”
“Do you have fires down here?” Sandy asked, noticing the fire pit.
“We do.” Ryn bent over to clear some of the fallen branches. “Henrietta surprised me with it last fall. It was our first date.”
“Our first—” Henrietta sputtered, blushing. “It most certainly was not.”
Ryn shrugged. “I don’t know. You brought fish fry home, you had a whole picnic basket packed, a fire all set.”
“How romantic,” Maxine said with a chuckle. She wrapped an arm around Henrietta and gave her a squeeze.
“You, as I recall,” Henrietta glared at Ryn, “needed cheering up. Your work was being stolen from you.”
“What’s this?” Sandy asked.
“I’d almost forgotten,” Ryn said. “I was kind of a mess that night. I’d put together a proposal for a new course, wrote up a syllabus, lesson plans, everything. Then the two men in my department took credit for it, got it approved.”
“She’s brilliant, and the men are threatened by that,” Henrietta said stoutly. “But they got their comeuppance.”
At Ryn’s questioning stare, Henrietta avoided her gaze and turned to the pond.
“We get beautiful sunsets here. We’ll have you back again when we can light a fire.”
The sun was already sinking below the hills to the west. Ryn noticed when Henrietta shivered in the chill dusk.
Invisible, as Music Page 27