Her Healing Place

by Sybil Smith

  There's a drowsy sigh and shifting around, then Evelyn's cold feet are pressed against Vera's shins for warmth.

  "You awake?" Vera quietly asks. Her breath blows wisps of the hair around Evelyn's neck and they catch the slivers of light coming in through the window.

  Evelyn places her hand on top of Vera's and sleepily pats it. "Mhm."

  The tick of the tableside clock echoes through the otherwise silent room, and Vera starts to rub her thumb in circles against the fabric covering Evelyn's stomach. She knows the other woman isn't sleeping, so she props up on her elbow and looks down and the perfect profile of Evelyn's face. "What are you thinking about?"

  "Noah," Evelyn finally whispers. "I wonder about what he's doing. About whether or not he's happy. Whether he's being taken care of or not."

  A sympathetic noise erupts from Vera's throat, and she reaches over to stroke Evelyn's hair while saying nothing.

  Their breathing falls in sync and Evelyn wraps Vera's arm tighter around her after she shivers from something other than being cold. "What happens if I don't get approved?"

  Her voice was barely a faltering whisper—the fear and pain clear—and Vera's fingers slightly falter in their movements. "Don't worry about that right now," she replies as soothingly as she can. "We will take it day by day."

  We.

  The word resounds in Evelyn's head. They had been a we or an us much more than a singular you and I for a long time now. And, lying here entwined in Vera's arms, she realizes she doesn't ever want to be a singular pronoun again. She doesn't want to be without Vera or Vera's support and strength and companionship and love ever again.

  Suddenly, just as that thought finishes in her mind, she rolls over to face Vera. Her eyes rapidly roam from one of Vera's eyes to the other as they soak in the silence; doing nothing but drinking the mere presence of each other in.

  She reaches up and traces the small scar on Vera's jaw with her fingertip. "Move in with me?

  A small, confused smile forms on Vera's face. "What?"

  "You're here more often than not. Half of the dresser is filled with your clothes," Evelyn reasons. "And after you missed dinner tonight, I was wondering if I should wait up for you or if you would just go to your apartment. I don't like not knowing. And I don't like being without you."

  With a pensive look on her face, she covers Evelyn's hand with her own. "I don't like not being with you either, but Evelyn…"

  "Just think about it for a while," Evelyn interrupts with a light kiss to Vera's chin. "It's okay if you decide that don't want to. But I wanted you to know that it's an option."

  "And when you have to move to a bigger apartment?"

  "We'll cross that road when we get there," Evelyn shrugs. "I just know I want you to be with you no matter the circumstance."

  Vera says nothing. This is a big step. A huge step. One she's never taken with anyone before, and one she's not sure if she's ready to take even now.

  "Don't be afraid of saying no, Vera. I really will understand. I didn't intend to pressure you, I just feel like this is the direction our relationship is inevitably heading. Don't you?"

  With a slight nod of agreement, Vera's voice drops into a whisper, "But I'm scared, Evelyn."

  Evelyn is equally quiet and concern is easily discernible, "Of what?"

  "Of where I belong in all of this," Vera nearly exclaims, sitting up in the bed. She quietly groans and rubs her hands against her face in frustration. "We're together…but what about Noah? I don't know what you'll want me to be to him. Will I just be your friend that stays over? Will I just pretend I'm his cool aunt? Or…or will I be his mother too? I'm just not sure what you want me to be."

  By the time Vera finishes, she's nearly begging for an answer; begging for everything to be made clear for her. But Evelyn doesn't have the answer for her. They haven't talked about this. She knows what she wants, but she doesn't know where, exactly, Vera wants to be placed in the big picture.

  She sits up new to Vera and lightly caresses her arm. "What do you want to be?"

  Vera gives a dry, humorless laugh. "I've never felt like this before. I love you Evelyn. I love you so much. And I…I want this. You, the white picket fence, the kids….all of it. But you haven't said anything about how you want me to act, so I can't help but feel like this is going to be your kid and I'll just be on the outside looking in."

  Silence permeates every crack, every pore around them.

  After long, tense moments Vera finally chances a glance up. "Well?"

  "I don't know what to say." She takes Vera's hand in her own and begins to play with her fingers. "I love you so much, Vera. I want to do this with you. I can see you playing ball with him in the yard. I can see you," she stops from getting too far ahead herself off with an embarrassed laugh before sobering. "I wasn't sure how you wanted to relate to him, so I didn't say anything for fear of you not wanting it too. I'm sorry. We should've talked about it. We can still talk about it. We've got time to figure this out."

  "Okay." Vera lets out a long, slow breath. "But I want to meet him."

  "But—"

  "They told you to keep your distance," Vera says as she lies back down. "Not me."

  * * *

  With a busy work schedule and more than a little bit of apprehensiveness keeping her at bay, Vera finds herself standing on a set of dilapidated steps nearly two weeks later. She almost talks herself into leaving several times, but she finally steels her nerves and knocks on the chipped door.

  When the woman finally answers, her hair is messily clipped in a bun and she's holding a cigarette in her yellow-tipped fingers.

  She gives Vera a quick once over, and then crosses her arms. "Listen. I ain't done nothing wrong."

  Vera's brow furrows. "What?"

  "You're a cop ain't ya? I'm tellin' ya I ain't done nothing wrong."

  Vera looks down at her belt where her badge is glinting in the sun. Shit. She can't believe she forgot to take off badge. This definitely won't make this any easier. "Ah, yeah. I am," she agrees with the friendliest smile she can muster. "But I'm just here on a…personal... visit."

  The skinny, older woman eyes her skeptically. "Personal visit?"

  "My friend," she starts, the dialogue she had practiced seemingly disappearing from her mind. "She came by here a while ago—"

  "That fancy woman?"

  "Ah, yes. Her." Vera holds up a blue gift bag. "She wanted me to bring this by for Noah."

  The woman looks at it and thrusts out her arm with an annoyed huff. "Fine. I'll give it to him."

  Vera pulls it a just out of her reach. "Well, I really want to give it to him. You know, so I can tell her if he liked it."

  The lady pauses, then crosses her arms as she steps to the side. "Alright. But if this is some undercover shit, you need a warrant. I know my rights."

  "Like I said," Vera's brow wrinkles curiously as she steps inside. "Just here to see the kid."

  The house isn't as grimy and derelict as Evelyn had said. No, it's more so. Vera shakes her head as she sidesteps around broken pieces of old furniture and piles of unused junk just to walk down the tiny hallway.

  "Ridiculous," she mutters under her breath as she nears the indicated room.

  She gives the browning door a light tap and, hearing no answer, slowly pushes it open with the back of her hand. It's a dingy room with stained carpet and a rickety, old bed pushed up against the wall. There are no pictures or posters on the chipping walls, and hardly any toys that show that this is, in fact, a young child's room.

  But there, sitting in the corner with his knees held against his chest, is a little boy with curly brown hair and wide, brown eyes. He's so much smaller and clearly uncared for than she expected.

  She can tell he's unsure of her from the almost frightened look in his eyes, so she takes care to only take a small, slow step inside the room. "Noah? Hey...I, uh, I'm Vera. Evelyn—you remember Evelyn?" He nods ever so slightly, and she gives him a smile as she holds out the little
blue bag. "Well she wanted me to give this to you."

  He doesn't move from the corner—actually doesn't move at all. Not even a blink. So she takes another cautious step closer. "It's alright. Just a present. You like presents, don't you?"

  When he still doesn't react, she simply places the bag in front of him and takes a few steps back to give him space. She's never been good with kids, so she knows it was unrealistic to expect that she was going hit it off with a clearly neglected one first thing. But it is disheartening. Especially when he's sitting there looking so alone and scared and abandoned, and there's nothing more she wants than to make him feel better. To pick him up on her shoulders and carry him right back to her house so she can show him family; so she can show him that there is a better world out there than this and that he deserves to be part of it.

  Using some of the same skills she had picked up over the years when talking to a frightened young witness, she crouches down to make herself look smaller and less threatening. It takes a minute, but it works enough that he finally moves to pull the gift towards him. He slowly pulls the picture books and puzzles out of the bag and reverently sets them on the floor beside him. But it's only when he lifts up a pair of yellow pajamas covered in little red trains does he finally look up at Vera with widened eyes.

  She grins. "Do you like them?"

  The smallest smile appears on his face as he nods. "I like trains," he speaks for the first time. His voice is low and sweet, but filled with sadness. "Evelyn give me all these?"

  "She did," she nods, slightly laughing at his pronunciation of Evelyn's name. "She remembers how much you like to play with puzzles."

  Holding the pajamas to his chest with one small hand, he picks up a puzzle about colors with the other. "She helps me sometimes."

  "Do you want me to help you?"

  "No," he softly says, pulling it just out of her reach. "Evelyn helps me."

  "Oh. Okay," she replies, slightly sitting back on her heels. Trying to ignore the irrational sting of his rejection, she digs in her blazer pocket. "I brought you some chocolate," she explains at his curious look. "Just don't tell Evelyn, alright?"

  He nods once. "Okay."

  As soon as it's in his tiny hand, he takes a huge bite. "Dis if good," he says through full cheeks as he chews. "Want fum?"

  Smiling, she shakes her head as he holds it out to her. "No thanks, buddy. It's all yours."

  After he finishes the chocolate—with almost more on his face than in his stomach—he picks up two wooden blocks and sets them on top of the stuff Evelyn had bought him. Vera points to them. "Do you like blocks?"

  Nodding, he holds up the two plain, wooden squares. One is red and the other is blue, but both are badly worn and faded. "But I only have these. Him is a fireman and her is a pet-lady."

  Her brow wrinkles playfully. "A pet-lady?"

  "Mhm," he nods. "She takes care of sick puppies."

  "Oh. I see," she agrees.

  Looking at the two pieces with great debate, he finally holds out the faded blue piece towards her. "You can be the fireman. Don't lose him."

  She clutches it in hand almost reverently and ignores the prickling of tears in her eyes. She may not have been able to touch his puzzles, but she does get to play with his little worn-out block.

  It's a start.

  * * *

  "How the hell is she allowed to keep him there?" Vera exclaims. If Evelyn is surprised by her sudden appearance, she says nothing. Instead she simply sits up as Vera flops back on the cushions of Evelyn's couch. "That house is a dump. She shouldn't be allowed to keep him there. Should she?"

  Evelyn shakes her head. "No, she shouldn't. But some children simply fall through the cracks."

  Vera clenches her jaw. "I know that. But it's still not right, Evelyn."

  "I agree."

  Angrily, she tugs on a curl of her hair. "We should do something."

  "I have," Evelyn says, scooting closer to Vera on the small couch. "I called a social worker after the last time I visited him."

  "And?"

  Evelyn shrugs, defeated. "And he's still there, isn't he?"

  Nearly groaning, Vera tilts her head to rest against the back of the couch. There's nothing she hates more than when the system fails. Especially when it fails a child so young.

  Evelyn reaches over and gently pushes back some of the loose curls around Vera's face in the silence that follows. Finally, with a hint of anxiety in her voice, she asks, "What did you think?"

  "I didn't," Vera's voice drops to a murmur, "I didn't want to leave him there. And not only because of the house. I just didn't want to leave him."

  "I know," Evelyn wistfully replies and takes Vera's hand in her own. They continue to sit in silence, knowing that no words are needed. Nothing could be said that would even come close to conveying what they feel about the lonely little boy sitting in the ramshackle house just waiting to be loved.

  Chapter 28

  Evelyn watches as Vera, in well-worn, baggy shorts and a faded t-shirt, flops down on the middle of the bed. The black curls are tangled and a few strays stick to her forehead, but a sweaty, exhausted Vera just may be her favorite of all to look at. She sits down on the bed, reaching over and stroking the skin of Vera's thigh. "Was that the last of it?"

  Vera, with her arm slung over her eyes, nods. "Thank God. I don't think I could move another box."

  "You did have an inordinately large amount of things for such a small apartment," Evelyn teases, grinning.

  "Well maybe I just have a lot of very important stuff."

  "And that's why we now have four tennis rackets in the hall closet?"

  "They're…Yeah," Vera laughs, "Maybe that is a little much."

  She playfully raises an eyebrow. "You think?"

  "Shut up," Vera retorts, reaching over and poking Evelyn's side. "What do you want to do tomorrow?"

  "For Valentine's Day?" Vera nods. "Nothing out of the ordinary. I just want to come home from work and spend the evening with you."

  "Hmm," Vera hums as she thinks. Vera doesn't want to plan something ornate if it's not what Evelyn wants, but she also doesn't want to give Evelyn another disappointment like she's had in the past. "Why don't I take you out for dinner? Nothing fancy. Maybe Spelck's to get one of those burgers you pretend to hate," Vera smiles. "Then we can come home and spend the rest of the night together."

  "That sounds lovely," Evelyn replies. She lies back on the bed and rolls on her side towards Vera, working her hand under the hem of Vera's shirt to dance her fingers against the soft, warm skin. "I really liked that by the way," she says quietly.

  Vera's brow wrinkles. "Liked what?"

  "That you called this home."

  "Well it is, isn't it?"

  "Yes," she nods, her fingers still roaming across Vera's skin. "But I didn't think you'd take to calling it as such so quickly."

  "Evelyn," Vera starts, rolling on her side, too, to face her. "My apartment was filled with my stuff, yeah. It had my clothes and furniture, but it was missing something pretty essential to be called home anymore."

  Her forehead slightly furrows. "And what was that?"

  Softly grinning, Vera reaches over and skims her fingers down the length of Evelyn's cheek. "It didn't have you."

  "Oh," Evelyn softly replies, her eyes involuntarily watering. No one had ever said something even remotely close to being as wonderful and loving, and Vera had said it with such conviction that Evelyn feels those words resound deep inside her; feels them fill her up to the very brim with emotion and love for the woman beside her.

  She doesn't realize she's pulling Vera flush against her until their lips are touching. The kiss is rough and feral, like she's trying to drink in the very essence of Vera; trying to pour every bit of her love into Vera's eager mouth. Their shirts are the first to go, quickly, so quickly that their lips barely break for even a moment. Vera kicks out of her own pants almost immediately, and begins to tug and pull at the ankles of Evelyn's own to aid her o
ut of them even quicker.

  But all too soon, as always, the near frantic kissing and disrobing begins to wane into something much calmer as Vera rolls to hover above her. Much more restrained and soft and…fragile.

  Sighing, she cups Vera's face and tenderly pushes her away to look into her eyes. Vera's brow instantly furrows. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. Nothing's wrong," she responds, her lips turning up ever so slightly. "I love you, and I love when you're gentle with me, Vera. I do." Her smile grows as she uses her thumb to brush away the crease on Vera's forehead.

  "But?" Vera prods, holding her weight up on her arms above Evelyn.

  "But," Evelyn continues, shifting her legs open so Vera can fit between them. "You don't always have to treat me like I'm made of glass, Vera. You don't have to restrain yourself. We can…it can be more physical…rougher," she says, flushing lightly and adverting her eyes. "That would be okay."

  Silence looms between them for long moments before a slight chuckle is emitted from Vera.

  "Just to make sure I understand," Vera clarifies, kissing away the almost embarrassed look on her face. "You're saying that sometimes you just…want to fuck?"

  "Yes," she nods slightly. "Sometimes I just want to...fuck," she finishes in a low whisper, her eyes immediately flicking up to Vera's.

  Something ignites in Vera as soon as the words reach her ears. Something feral, something so discernible that Evelyn can see it clearly in her dark eyes. Vera smiles almost mischievously. "Well…I think I can handle that."

  Before Evelyn can respond with obvious enthusiasm, Vera's weight bears down on her so completely, so fully, so wonderfully, that all words escape her. Vera's arm slips beneath her to hold her closer, tighter, and then Vera is filling her so perfectly, so magnificently.

  Roughly.

  She wraps her arms around Vera's back tightly as they begin to rock and undulate against the top of the sheets, and smiles into Vera's hair after finally, finally getting to feel Vera lose her inhibitions; after finally getting to feel Vera trust her with all that Vera has to give.