Forging a Desire Line

by Mary P. Burns

  Thursday morning, Charley called her florist and ordered a flowering peace plant for Madeline and Thea to thank them for the weekend, sending one to Joanna as well. Sometime later, she had a text from her: It’s beautiful! M&T loved theirs, too!

  Friday night, dinner at Tricia’s was a sedate affair, with Charley and Joanna falling into their new normal, keeping the friendship that Joanna wanted front and center. Once, when Charley moved around her in the kitchen to pick up the bottle of thyme, she put her hand on Joanna’s shoulder and ran it down her back. Joanna caught Charley with her emerald gaze, but instead of a warning shot, it was full of warmth. Charley would have to hang on to things like that to get through what was coming. Tricia, of course, missed nothing between them, but for once, she kept her counsel.

  Charley was spending most evenings at Tricia’s now and was amazed watching the physical artistry with which the nurses transferred Tricia from her wheelchair to the bed, helped her dress and undress, maneuvered her through what she needed in the bathroom. Of course, Tricia couldn’t weigh much more than ninety-five pounds now, and Charley knew from discussions with Joanna weeks ago that that meant Tricia was dangerously close to being unsustainable. She hadn’t been a praying person for a long time, but she began to find comfort in turning to God now, often talking to Him as she walked to work.

  Tricia and Ted worked tirelessly on the lawsuit, despite her fragile state, and her legal team came to the apartment almost every day.

  One day turned into another, into a week, into two. And then came Ted’s nearly unintelligible call from the courthouse on Monday: the suit had been settled out of court, and that evening, Charley finally got to meet the young legal team that had muscled their way to victory after convincing Tricia that her name should remain part of the partnership, not only for the legacy, but also for twice the financial payout.

  The next week was a blur getting Emily ready for her trip to the Grammy Awards, until Ted called. He was on the way to the hospital with Tricia. She had collapsed in her bedroom. Charley left immediately.

  Within hours, the medical team stabilized her, her creatinine levels having been so high that Dr. Gerard thought her kidneys would shut down. Charley and Ted had sat in the small waiting area until Dr. Gerard came for them.

  “I’m sorry, we just don’t know what caused the imbalance. Now, we could keep her here,” he said, “but I think she needs to be tube-fed because she’s not taking in enough nutrition. And the physical waste of her body is such that we’d really like to get her into hospice, and we’d like to do it before the weekend.”

  Charley was surprised at how swiftly the transition was made, how easily Tricia agreed to it. They had talked about that moment when you leave your home for the last time, not necessarily knowing it was your last time, but Tricia knew.

  Charley had twenty-four-hour access to Tricia’s room, and had asked and been given the same for Ted, Dr. Gerard vouching for the fact that Ted was a close family friend.

  That night, Joanna called. “How are you?”

  Charley sighed. “I don’t know. Everything’s happening so fast.”

  “Please don’t think I’m adding fuel to that fire, but with Tricia no longer considered a client, the team’s been given the usual time off, and I’m going up to Madeline’s cabin again.”

  “Oh…” Charley was devastated.

  “I’ll be a phone call away. We can talk every night.”

  Charley thought she might as well be a million miles away.

  Every morning, she arrived at the hospice as the sun rose, when Tricia would be waking up; the pool could wait. And every night she was back to watch the evening news with her. Ted stayed most of the day, making sure the music she wanted to hear was always playing from her iPod, keeping the speakers on low. Tricia simply lay under the covers like a flat doll as things went on around her. Charley concentrated as best she could at work, counting the hours until Emily left for the Grammys later that week.

  “You haven’t been going to the pool,” Tricia said one morning, picking at the covers. Her hands were bony, gnarled. Charley thought about all the times those hands had been entwined with hers.

  “No. I’m fine. I don’t need it right now.”

  “I should think now is exactly when you’d need it. Why don’t you go over to my apartment and use the pool there at night? It’s open until eleven.”

  It was a good idea, and Charley went the next night. Her neighbor Greg was taking care of the cats, so she decided to stay at Tricia’s apartment. The lights were on when she opened the door, classical music floating from the speakers in every room.

  “Hello?”

  Ted came trotting down the hall from the kitchen. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t know you were coming, or I’d have left a note on the door.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Tricia and I set up a cleaning schedule for, well, for this eventuality. I’m very quietly taking care of the things she didn’t want in her will.”

  And just like that, Tricia began to disappear. Charley was angry. And grateful. And a million other things she couldn’t name.

  “You look like you need a drink,” Ted said.

  That Sunday, Charley watched the Grammy show with Tricia. The nurse had propped her up on her pillows and when she’d left, Tricia patted the bed. Charley very gently eased onto it, afraid she could break something in Tricia’s frail state, and stroked her hair, which now lay limp and gray on her pillow. Emily was nowhere in the audience where she knew the record executives sat, or at least, she couldn’t spot her. The cameras moved too quickly, the producers focusing instead on rappers and rock stars. Sitting there in a hospice room, Charley thought it might as well have been taking place on another planet.

  On Tuesday, Ted called Charley just as she was leaving the office. “Tricia says not to come.”

  “Why?”

  “Dennis and his family are here.”

  “Oh, shit. Who called them?”

  “I did. She asked me to. And maybe don’t come tomorrow, either. I think he’s staying a couple days.”

  “No, I can’t do that. I won’t come tonight, but unless she needs to be alone with him, I’ll be there tomorrow night.”

  Tricia texted her mid-afternoon Wednesday. Need to be alone with Dennis. He’s not handling any of this well.

  For half an instant, Charley felt bad for him, until she remembered that he hadn’t called Tricia in all the years she’d been with her.

  Even though the dust in her apartment looked like it was an inch thick, Charley couldn’t bring herself to do more than play with the cats, who were so glad to see her that they ran after all the little plastic balls with the bells in them that she tossed their way and batted at the many pieces of ribbon she dangled above their heads until Charley herself tired of the games and they settled in a heap on the floor. She rubbed Bing’s stomach, and Bob obligingly allowed her to scratch him between his ears. But even he finally swatted at her hand, annoyed, and rolled onto his back to get her to stop. When she awoke on the floor in the middle of the night, she found the cats, more sensible than her, in the bed, Bing with his head on the pillow, Bob curled up next to him, his nose and front paws buried under the covers. She left them and went to the couch.

  Early Thursday morning, Charley headed to the hospital. Tricia was still asleep, so she pulled out the Sunday Times Style section and turned to her favorite column, Modern Love. Several paragraphs into it, she stopped, blinking, staring at her déjà vu in print. Then she looked at the author’s name. Neely Robinson. She had written an homage to their short relationship, a poignant study on falling in love at a time in one’s life when it isn’t the right time in the other person’s life, and never will be. It was difficult for Charley to read, but she read it twice. Then, she carefully excised the page, left it folded on the table next to Tricia’s bed and headed to the office. When she came back that evening, Ted told her Tricia had slept most of the day, waking up for one visitor.

>   “I thought Dennis left yesterday,” Charley said.

  “He did. Joanna came to see her.”

  “When?”

  “Around two thirty.”

  “How long did she stay?”

  “Half hour. I left them alone.”

  Had she driven back to the city just to visit Tricia? And not let her know? Incredulously, she checked her phone and saw the text Joanna sent while Charley was in a meeting, the sound on her phone off. Joanna had come back to the city to pick up Thea, who wanted to join her at the cabin for the weekend and stopped to see Tricia. Charley kicked herself.

  Tricia was still sleeping when Charley went into her room. She pulled the chair close to her bed and took her hand. It felt as light and delicate as the feathers that periodically escaped her down quilt, and Charley was afraid that if she rubbed the back of it with her thumb, it would bruise. So she sat that way until well into the night, listening to Tricia’s uneven breathing.

  As she walked home from the hospice, the streets had that ghostly three a.m. emptiness. A taxi swooshed past, the miniscule light from its meter throwing a blue halo around the woman in the back seat; a bus glided by carrying a lone passenger who peered out at the blackness; half a block away, a man hunched against the cold opened a bodega door, the tinkle of the bell above it announcing his arrival, and when Charley passed by a moment later, the customer and the counterman were bent over a newspaper, the store’s fluorescent light a bright inviting glow. Charley wanted to grab pieces of light from everywhere and hold on to them, tuck them inside where they would keep her safe and ward off the pain she knew was coming.

  Hours later, she was back in Tricia’s room, and she didn’t want to leave when she awoke.

  “You can stay, but it’ll be a waste of time watching me sleep. I’m so damn tired. Go. Emily needs you, I’m sure.”

  “Do we need to talk about anything? Dennis? Should I be helping Ted?”

  “Tonight. We’ll talk tonight.”

  “How was Joanna?” Charley blurted it out without thinking.

  Tricia’s Cheshire Cat smile floated across her face. “She misses you.” Tricia stretched. “You know she and I said good-bye to each other before your New Year’s trip.”

  “No, I didn’t know that. She didn’t say anything.”

  “She came back to tell me that I don’t have to worry, that she’ll take good care of you, and cherish you.”

  Charley couldn’t stop tears that spilled. Tricia held out her hand.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  When her phone rang late that afternoon, she recognized Ted’s cell number. She didn’t want to pick up. She knew. Ted’s steadfast demeanor cracked only once as he told her. Hanging up, she looked at the calendar. Valentine’s Day. The cruelty didn’t escape her. She didn’t need to go in to Emily to tell her. She simply looked at her through the glass wall. Emily nodded. Charley picked up her coat and canvas bag and walked out.

  Through the windy streets of the February dusk, she walked home with her down coat in the crook of her arm. People passing around her walked in pairs, arm in arm, laughing, some of them stopping to kiss, entering restaurants where music and warmth rushed out toward her through the open doors, grabbing at her, but she needed the isolating cold.

  It took every last ounce of composure to acknowledge her doorman’s “good evening.” When she reached her apartment door, she dropped everything on the floor and sank down on top of the pile.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there crying when someone entered her hall. She wasn’t sure she cared, either, and she closed her eyes against the intrusion. The footsteps stopped beside her. A second later, the lemon scent of a certain Chanel perfume overtook her.

  When she looked up, Joanna was holding out her hand. “I got in the car as soon as I heard.”

  “You left Thea up there without a car?”

  “She’s fine. You’re not.” Joanna reached down for Charley’s hand and lifted her off the floor, picking up her coat and bag. She found the front door keys and unlocked it, propping it open with her foot. Charley walked in and stood by the butcher block. Joanna hung up the coat and took her hand.

  Instinctively, Charley wrapped Joanna in her arms and kissed her, and Joanna pressed hard into Charley. Like a woman possessed, she unzipped Joanna’s coat and dropped it on the floor, kissing her as she did, stopping only long enough to pull her toward the bedroom. Halfway there, she turned and began undressing her, and Joanna went after the buttons on Charley’s shirt, her bra, abandoning both pieces of clothing on the floor with the ones Charley had just taken off her. She pushed Charley toward the bedroom. Charley threw back the covers on the bed and wrenched Joanna’s belt open, tore down the zipper on her jeans as Joanna fumbled with Charley’s pants. Shoes and socks came off and then they were on the bed, hands and mouths on flesh, as they moved together until Charley felt Joanna slipping inside her. She found her way inside Joanna and they moved to the same rhythm, building to a climax as one, Charley shattering when she reached it, and sobbing in Joanna’s arms.

  “I’ve got you,” Joanna whispered, the same words she’d said to Charley as she held her so tightly when she’d walked into Tricia’s apartment bedecked for Christmas and it had nearly broken her. She let Joanna pull the covers over them, curl around her, and hold her, those same senses of warmth, security, and protection enveloping her like they had that night. “You’ll get through this. We’ll get through this.” Joanna gently rocked her, ran her hand through Charley’s hair, and kissed her neck and shoulder. “Why don’t you sleep? You must be exhausted. I’ve got you.”

  By degrees, Charley relaxed into her arms, knowing Joanna truly did have her.

  In the morning, Charley woke bleary eyed, anxiety stealing in when she remembered that Tricia was gone. But when she felt Joanna’s arms around her, it receded.

  Joanna pulled her close. “Hey. You okay?”

  Charley settled in against her. “Maybe. I don’t know. How is anyone okay after something like this?”

  Joanna kissed the top of her head. “One day at a time. Maybe one hour at a time. We both have to learn how to navigate the world with one less important soul in it.”

  Charley pulled away so she could look into Joanna’s eyes. “You said good-bye to her before we went to Madeline’s. She told me.”

  “I started navigating the night I walked into her apartment. Part of the job. I just didn’t expect to become such good friends with her. But yes, we were both ready. And she knew I was taking you away for the weekend.”

  Charley put her head on Joanna’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming last night.”

  “I got to you as quickly as I could.” She gently moved Charley’s hair back behind her ear. “And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I love you, Charley.” Joanna kissed her, gently. “I think I just cashed in the promissory note.”

  Charley laughed at the surprised look on Joanna’s face even as the tears rose. She pulled her closer. “You’re my desire line. A path I didn’t even know I needed to take, that brought me right where I needed to be. I love you, too.” She let her tears fall.

  They stayed in bed most of the rest of the day talking, planning, Charley getting caught short with more tears a couple of times, even laughing when she recalled something Tricia had said months ago about her funeral.

  “Do you know anything about the funeral?”

  “Oh, we planned it right after her diagnosis, while we both still had enough distance.” Charley sighed. “Because of her client list, I expect it will be a circus. Ted’s working with the funeral home because I knew I couldn’t face that.”

  When Joanna got up to make them something to eat, Charley closed her eyes and whispered a quiet good-bye to Tricia. She’d lost love, grieved, and found love once again. She could begin to let go and embrace what the future held.

  Epilogue

  Christmas Eve One Year Later

  “I like all your friends,” Joanna said as they came
out of Brooke’s building. “But I adore Annie. She’s so funny.”

  Charley pulled her close, seeking warmth from the bitter cold by slipping her hands into Joanna’s back pants pockets. “Then I have a confession. Would you still adore her, and me, if I admitted we had a fling years ago?”

  “She told me at Brooke’s birthday party. She told me about you and Brooke, too, and quite frankly, I don’t care. Ancient history.” Joanna put her arms around Charley’s waist. “Mmm. I like this on you.” She traced a finger over the little handcuffs on the delicate silver chain around Charley’s neck, her smile a tease that Charley wanted to answer.

  “You like the real ones on my wrists and ankles.”

  “Yes, I do. I love playing with you when you’re naked and restrained. Playing with you in every way, actually.”

  Charley kissed her. “Are you flirting with me?”

  “I’m freezing is what I am, and I want to give you your Christmas present tonight. Your place or mine?”

  “Depends on who’s got the better stocked refrigerator.”

  “Oh, that’ll be my place until we close on the co-op. Bottle of champagne in my refrigerator,” she said, leading Charley toward the street. “And a quart of strawberries.”

  Charley felt for the little box in her pocket that held a diamond bracelet for Joanna. Maybe she’d hear the diamonds when she shook the box this year. As she always did when she left Brooke’s now, she looked downtown the few blocks to the top of Tricia’s building. The penthouse was all lit up. She wondered who lived there now.

  She missed Tricia, more than she thought she could miss anyone. But with Joanna in her life, the past seemed a little easier to let go. The biggest surprise had been Tricia’s will. She’d had far more to her name than she’d told Charley, and she’d left it all to her, with bequests to Ted and two charities. The note she’d left Charley simply said, “Live well together. And love her.”