The tone with which she said “these people” almost dripped with condescension.
“Unlike those who will vote for Reagan despite all the reasons sane people shouldn’t.”
Genevieve tilted her head as she surveyed Henrietta. “You really have changed.”
“Yes, I have.” Henrietta nodded toward the stacks. “If you’re looking for reading material, I’m sure the library has a copy of Mein Kampf.”
Genevieve’s nostrils flared. Henrietta smiled sweetly and watched her stalk away.
She felt the weight of someone watching her. Expecting it to be another country club person here with Genevieve, she turned with a scowl to see Meryn watching her with a proud smile pasted on her face.
She came to the table and leaned near. “That was brilliant.”
Henrietta flushed. “I’ve put up with her snobbery for years.”
Meryn laughed so softly, only Henrietta could hear. Even more quietly, she murmured, “I love you.”
The words felt like a caress. Henrietta’s heart hammered as it always did when Meryn said something endearing.
Unable to meet Meryn’s eyes, Henrietta said, “Go on with you.”
Meryn squeezed her shoulder gently and went back outside. Henrietta sat there, remembering when Meryn’s touch felt like being branded. She laid her own hand on her shoulder, trying to hold on to the sensation.
“Mmmm hmmm,” drawled Maxine as she strolled by to shelve some books. “I saw that.”
Henrietta finished her shift at the volunteer table. When she left the library, Meryn was still handing out flyers and trying to steer people inside.
“I’ll see you at home in a bit,” she said to Henrietta.
When Henrietta pulled into the driveway, the mailman was just walking up to the house. He waited until she got out of the car and opened the door from the garage into the breezeway.
“Here you go, Miss Cochran.”
“Thank you.”
He tipped his hat and left.
She carried the thin sheaf of envelopes into the kitchen and set them on the counter. “Electric bill, gas bill, water—”
She stopped as she saw the last envelope in the stack. The return address sticker read June Fleming in Uniontown. But it wasn’t addressed to Meryn. It was addressed to her.
Sitting down at the table, she stared at the envelope for several minutes before reaching for it. Her fingers fumbled with the flap. When she pulled out the slip of paper within, the note inside was polite but terse.
Dear Henrietta,
As you can imagine, I was surprised when Meryn announced that she intends to stay at St. Aloysius and more surprised that she plans to stay with you rather than look for an apartment of her own.
When she shared her reason for that decision, I must admit, I was disturbed.
Her father and I have always trusted Ryn to make good decisions, but I cannot help but feel that her decisions are being clouded by a sense of responsibility to you which, I’m sure you would agree, is not fair to her.
I would like to discuss this with you. I would also appreciate it if you would not tell Ryn about this. I’m sure you can understand that, as her mother, I want what’s best for my daughter.
It was signed simply with June’s name and a telephone number.
Henrietta slowly folded the note and tucked it back into its envelope. She gazed absently out the kitchen window. She couldn’t blame June Fleming for feeling as she did. It hadn’t been so long ago that Henrietta had the very same concerns about tying Meryn down here. But how could she explain to Meryn’s mother that she loved that girl more than anything? That life would hardly feel worth living without her?
Even as she thought it, she heard exactly how selfish those sentiments would sound to a concerned mother.
She pushed to her feet and went to her desk. She tucked the note in a drawer, pushing it closed as Meryn came in. She saw the envelopes lying on the kitchen counter.
“Anything good in the mail?”
Henrietta forced a smile. “Nothing important.”
The history tea club expanded by one. Turned out Andy Webb was a tea drinker, also. He even bought an electric kettle for the office he now shared with Ryn.
“I miss the whistle of the old kettle,” Beverly bemoaned privately to Ryn. “But I suppose this is faster.”
“And safer.”
But where Ryn and Beverly liked a variety of herbal teas, Andy stuck resolutely to a strong, black English breakfast tea, several cups of it per day, courtesy of a habit he’d developed while at Oxford. Ryn wondered why the guy didn’t have caffeine tremors, but she also wondered a lot of other things about him. If he hadn’t had a wife and two kids—a son and daughter in junior high and high school—she would have guessed he was gay.
Not particularly handsome, he was a little soft around the edges, with receding dark hair and a moustache left over from the seventies. But he was wickedly funny, highly intelligent, “and he’s a Democrat!” Ryn had announced to Henrietta.
In short, he was everything she could have wished for in a colleague—and everything Bradley Geary hadn’t been.
“This year is going to be so much better,” she said to Beverly.
She dove into her classes, which were full nearly to capacity. Beverly had told her that students were specifically requesting her courses, much to Dr. Talbert’s chagrin.
He was still sullen and resentful that his chances of promotion to dean had disappeared, but with two provisional faculty under him, there was no one to step in as chair. Ryn was under no delusions that, when it came time, it would be Webb and not her chosen as Talbert’s replacement, but Webb had his Ph.D. and almost fifteen years of teaching experience in Georgia. He would be a logical choice, if he lasted.
“I can’t believe I’m back in Yankee territory,” he joked.
He’d grown up in Massachusetts, but had been in the South since finishing his doctorate. His wife, Charlene, was sweet, often coming by to drop off batches of cookies or freshly baked pies. With her parents and siblings all in the Syracuse area, they were looking forward to being closer to family.
As nice as the Webbs were, Ryn was reluctant to share too much of her personal life with them. She noncommittally told Andy that she shared a house with a woman, and she supposed Beverly had explained some things about Henrietta’s situation, because he mentioned her polio and her art.
When she was younger, in college and grad school, she’d been adamant about being out and open, but things felt different now. Part of it was Henrietta’s obvious discomfort with too many people knowing too much about her private life. Part of it was Ryn’s lingering tension with her mom. She had thought she’d go home for one more late summer visit, maybe with Henrietta, but after what happened in May, she had no desire to go home. Still, it was weird not to feel like she could just call and talk to her folks as she’d always done. She missed them. This emotional distance nagged, like a pebble in her shoe that she was always aware of.
By the end of her first week of classes, she was starting to learn her students’ names. There was one young woman in her freshman seminar who reminded her forcefully of Vanessa.
It was hard to remember how confusing things had been last year, what with Geary and Vanessa and Tamara. Feeling nostalgic, she opened the door to her old broom closet. The rays of sun slanting through the window set alight a cobweb strung across the gap from window to desk.
“Am I that bad?”
She jumped at the sound of Andy’s voice behind her. “Huh?”
He pointed. “Beverly told me this was your office last year.” He angled his head, studying her. “From what I hear, the chap I replaced was a bit of a… miscreant.”
She sniggered. “Okay, I haven’t ever heard anyone use the word ‘miscreant’ in conversation, but, yes, he was.” She pulled the door closed. “And no. I’m very happy sharing an office with you.”
Vanessa was still on her mind, though. After her last lecture of the da
y, she shouldered her backpack and went into the village. She bought a bouquet of autumn flowers at the florist shop.
A few minutes later, she climbed the steps of Mrs. Middleston’s house. She knocked and waited. When Mrs. Middleston came to the door, she opened it with a puzzled expression.
“You’re not here for a room, are you?”
Ryn grinned. “No. I’m still happy with Henrietta, but I was just remembering last year. And I don’t know if I ever really thanked you.”
“Thank me? For what?”
“For creating a home away from home for so many young women. I know I was a little older than most of your boarders, but it’s kind of comforting to have a place like this, with rules and someone to notice if something is wrong.”
She held out the flowers. “For you.”
Mrs. Middleston accepted them with a dazed expression. “No one has ever…” She cleared her throat. “They’re pretty.”
“Bye.”
With a wave, Ryn hopped down the steps and made her way to her real home.
Chapter 25
Henrietta sat, calmly pretending to read the newspaper, as Meryn stomped around the house talking to herself, every now and then blurting something loudly enough for Henrietta to make out things like “can’t believe you did that” or “what were you thinking” or “this is just great” which, of course, it wasn’t. At least not in Meryn’s mind.
When Henrietta had steeled herself to call June a couple of days after receiving her note, she’d deliberately chosen a day when she knew Meryn had a full teaching load and wouldn’t pop home unexpectedly. She’d also decided that only so much would be accomplished over the telephone. After a frosty greeting but before June could build up a proper head of steam—if that was her intention—Henrietta headed her off by inviting her and Walt to come to Bluemont for Labor Day weekend.
“If Janie will be back at college, I presume your boys are old enough to stay by themselves now, and it will be a long weekend for your husband. It seems the ideal time for us to sit down and talk.”
From the momentary silence on the other end of the line, it seemed June was flummoxed. Henrietta was certain the poor woman had an entire litany of things she’d wound herself up to say, as Henrietta knew she would in her place, but this unexpected invitation had knocked her off-kilter.
Telling Meryn had been an entirely different matter. Henrietta had waited until Friday evening, knowing that she’d most likely need the entire weekend—and the whole of the next week—to come to terms with what Henrietta had done and to prepare herself.
As Henrietta had anticipated, Meryn had stared at her, speechless and open-mouthed, upon hearing of the arrangements. When Henrietta showed her her mother’s note, Meryn’s face had turned an alarming shade of puce.
After her initial concealment of the letter, Henrietta had realized that, if she and Meryn were to have a real relationship, it couldn’t include secrets. “I don’t blame your mother,” she’d said as Meryn read it. “She’s worried about you. Just as I would be in her place. We knew there would be opposition. There are a lot of reasons that people will think this is wrong, and our sex is probably the least of them. We owe her this opportunity, to hear her out, to reassure her.”
Naturally, the speechless part hadn’t lasted long. Once Meryn had found her voice, she’d been mumbling like this, mostly to herself, non-stop for several days.
As it was now Thursday, and June and Walt would arrive tomorrow night, Henrietta said, “We should discuss sleeping arrangements.”
Meryn paused, momentarily silenced again, as the implication of her parents’ spending three nights in this house hit her.
“Maybe they could—”
“No hotel.” Henrietta’s voice was firm. “We need to hash this out, and we can’t do that if they’re staying somewhere else.”
Meryn looked at her, eyes wide.
“Sit down,” Henrietta said more gently.
Meryn sat beside her on the sofa. Henrietta took her hand.
“Do you, or do you not, intend for us, for this relationship, to last forever?”
Meryn, whose mouth was already open to argue, was only able to say, “Yes. Of course.”
“Then, for better or worse.”
Henrietta could see that it took a few seconds for the impact of her words to sink in.
“Better or worse.” Meryn’s face softened for the first time since hearing the news.
“Your family is now my family. I know in-laws don’t always get along or like one another.” Henrietta couldn’t believe she was thinking of these people as her parents-in-law. It was laughable, but, “You will not be whole or happy if there’s strife between us.”
Meryn stared at the floor, thinking. “You’re right. If I always have to choose between them or you, it’ll tear me apart.”
She watched Meryn’s face. It was like a movie projector, playing her emotions like a film across her features. Her expression shifted, and she turned to Henrietta.
“Did you just propose to me?”
It was Henrietta’s turn to gape. She cleared her throat. “I suppose I did.”
Meryn leaned nearer, her face a hair’s breadth away. Lightly, she pressed her lips to Henrietta’s, as she sat frozen, ensnared by the nearness of that beloved face.
After a moment, Meryn pulled away. “I accept.”
Ryn did one last check of her bedroom, straightening the spread on the bed she usually slept in. After much discussion about the pros and cons of the twin beds in her room versus the double bed in Henrietta’s, the bathroom layout decided the matter. Henrietta couldn’t step over a tub to shower, and her bathroom had extra room and safety bars that the guest bath didn’t.
The only sticking point was where Ryn would sleep. She was prepared to sleep on the sofa, but Henrietta asked, “Would you do that if you were with Tamara instead of me?”
Ryn felt herself go red. “That would be different.”
“Because you would already be sharing a bed with her every night. And you would…”
This was still an area where Henrietta felt she was depriving Ryn of something she needed.
Reading her mind, Ryn said, “I’ve told you over and over, this relationship is already giving me more than I’ve ever had with anyone.”
Henrietta gave her a dubious frown. “But—”
“What we are to each other doesn’t depend on what other people do or say or think,” Ryn said. “We get to make up our own rules. I will sleep with you, as long as it won’t disturb you. And my parents will just have to accept it.”
Henrietta nodded.
Ryn got a sleeping shirt and a pair of shorts to take to Henrietta’s room. Other than the infrequent nights when she heard Henrietta having a bad dream and went to comfort her, they didn’t sleep together. It would be interesting to see what the next few nights would be like.
Just as she did last November when she was expecting her family, she couldn’t settle as they waited for her parents to arrive. She kept jumping up, looking out the window before huffing impatiently and plopping back into her chair.
“I know you’re laughing at me,” she said.
“I’m not laughing,” but Henrietta’s voice definitely had a lilt to it.
It was almost ten o’clock when June and Walt pulled into the driveway. Ryn was out the door before her dad turned the car off.
She threw herself into his arms when he got out. She was more hesitant with her mother.
“Mom,” she said, standing awkwardly until June held her arms out.
Ryn moved into them, wishing this hadn’t become a barrier between them. She and her mother had never been estranged for any reason. She’d never even been seriously pissed at her parents.
She helped her father with the suitcases, leading the way to the house, where Henrietta stood at the door to welcome them.
“It’s so nice to see you again,” she said.
“And you,” June said, but Ryn heard the forced tone o
f her voice.
“Are you hungry?” Ryn asked.
“No, we ate in Elmira.” June looked around, and Ryn wondered if her mom expected the house to be redecorated with rainbow pillows and lavender drapes.
Her parents took the two chairs while Ryn and Henrietta sat on the couch. A tense silence filled the room, and Ryn thought for a moment they were going to dive right into the purpose of this visit. She suddenly wondered if her dad even knew why he was here.
“I imagine you’re tired after your trip,” Henrietta said just as June opened her mouth.
“We are.” Walt stood. “My back gets stiff these days.”
Ryn picked up a suitcase again and led the way to her bedroom.
“You can sleep in here,” Ryn said, setting the suitcase on the bed nearest the door.
June followed, frowning. “But where—?”
“This is just fine,” Walt cut in. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
He gave Ryn a smile and closed the bedroom door.
Ryn heaved a grateful sigh and followed Henrietta to her room. She pushed the door shut and stood there uncertainly, realizing she had no idea how Henrietta got herself in and out of her braces. Any time she’d spent in this room had been in the middle of the night after one of Henrietta’s bad dreams, after she was already in bed.
“What do you need?”
Henrietta paused, thinking. “Give me twenty minutes?”
Ryn nodded and went back out to the dark living room. No matter where they were emotionally, Henrietta still needed her privacy and her dignity.
Getting comfortable being naked with Ashley had taken a while, and Ryn couldn’t help but wonder if that would ever happen with Henrietta, if they ever became lovers in the physical sense.
After giving Henrietta twenty-five minutes, just to be safe, Ryn knocked quietly.
“Come in.”
She opened the door to find Henrietta in bed. Reaching for her T-shirt and shorts, she said, “I’ll just be a sec.”
When she was done in the bathroom, she flipped off the light and padded to the far side of the bed.
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