by Sybil Smith
There's a pause as papers are shuffled, and when Elena looks up her smile is noticeably absent. She leans forward to rest her arms upon her knees to appear closer. Vera has used this tactic many times—to convey remorse or openness or understanding—and she knows that they must be treading into rough waters. She protectively cocoons Evelyn's hand in her own.
Elena, with a soft and kind expression on her face, focuses solely on Evelyn. Her voice is soft as she asks, "I understand you had a son. Tristan, wasn't it?"
It's like the air is immediately sucked from Evelyn's lungs. She knew this conversation would inevitably come, but she didn't think it would happen so soon. She leans even further into Vera's side, using the comfort she derives from Vera's mere presence as a lifeline to keep her from drowning.
It takes a few moments, but with a heavy heart and a dry mouth, she finally whispers, "Yes."
"I know you must miss him," the social worker replies in a tone that matches the quietness of Evelyn's own.
She nods, "I do."
"Will you tell me about him?" Elena inquires further. "I understand if you can't. I would just like to get a feel of how you're mindset has evolved since his passing."
There's a reassuring squeeze from Vera's hand. The touch anchors her, calms her. Helps her forge on through her dry throat and the tears pricking behind her eyes.
"He was…He was beautiful. I remember him being so small, but thinking he had such a large personality. He never failed to make me laugh," she begins, looking between Vera and Elena. "He was also incredibly smart. I thought about getting him tested for Mensa when he was two, but I was afraid of putting such pressure on a child so young. And he never could decide if his favorite color was green or blue…he used to paint me pictures to hang on the refrigerator that only consisted of those two colors. He loved Clifford and Captain America," she smiles to herself. "He was wonderful in every way."
"He sounded lovely," Elena whispers, though it's solely because of her own emotions.
"Oh, he was," Evelyn agrees. "He was."
Elena jots something down quickly. "Do you think about him often?"
With a sigh, Evelyn shakes her head and looks down at her fingers intertwined with Vera's own. "Not as much as I used to."
"Does that bother you?"
"Yes and no," she admits. "At first, I had an all-consuming feeling of loss, which ultimately reminded me of Tristan constantly. But that's waned since I've finally reached the last stage of grief: Acceptance. I've finally been able to accept my loss and think of him with fondness instead of solely with anguish," she begins, and then looks intently at a spot on the floor as she continues.
"Sometimes I'm terrified I'll forget him; that I'll forget the way his hair smelled or how his nose would wrinkle more on the left side when he laughed. But I know it is a part of healing to not dwell on the loss of a loved one and accept the new reality you have afterward. So the moments when something reminds me of him or of something he had said, I cherish them greatly instead of react with despondence," she says, finally looking up with a self-conscious half grin. "Those moments help me know that I won't forget him even if he is not constantly on my mind."
"That's a very rational way of thinking about it. You don't often see that," Elena honestly offers, scribbling more down in the notebook Vera is increasingly itching to read.
"Rational? That doesn't even begin to explain Doctor Smartypants over here," Vera smiles.
Evelyn leans into her further, mouthing, "Hush."
Elena's smile is stamped back in place. "I'm sure being a detective must mean you're logical, too, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Vera shrugs. "Sometimes."
Elena's head tilt's inquisitively. "And the times when you're not?"
"Well…I'm working on those," Vera deflects, self-consciously scuffing her shoe on the floor.
"Honesty is a virtue, Vera," the social worker reminds with a finger pointed in the air. "Be honest with me, and I can be honest with you."
Vera sighs. This woman definitely reminds her of her third shrink that wouldn't let her get away with anything.
She wanted to kill him.
At least Elena smiles while she is annoyingly getting what she wants.
"I tend to put others ahead of myself," Vera finally grumbles. "And it's not always a good thing."
"It doesn't sound like a bad thing," Elena counters, sitting back in her seat.
"It does when it puts me in unnecessary danger," Vera retorts, looking up. "But I'm trying not to take those risks, you know? I've always put the safety of others ahead of my own because it's my job, but now I always double check my vest or wait for backup. I'm not as risky with my life anymore because I have people who need me in theirs."
"That's a very wise choice if you ask me." Again with the scribbling in her notepad that piques Vera's interest. "Who will be the main caregiver while you're both at work?"
"My mother," Vera responds with an eye roll. "We've only told her the basics, but I already think she's started a college fund for the little dude."
Elena quietly chuckles. "I see. Would it be okay if I asked you to bring her to one of our future meetings?"
Vera nearly groans. "When she's yacking your ear off, just remember that you asked for it."
"I'll keep it in mind," Elena grins. "Now, on to Noah. I see that you've both met him. Are you both aware that he's had cancer?" They nod, and Elena looks to Evelyn. "And this being the manner in which your late son passed, are you afraid that Noah's cancer will recur?"
"Of course," Evelyn assents. "There is a greater chance of cancer in someone that has previously already had the disease than someone who hasn't so, naturally, I would be on high alert with regards to his well-being."
Elena tilts her head and taps her pen against her chin absentmindedly. "Do you think that will render you incapable of truly being able to care for him? Fear of losing him like you lost your son?"
"No," Evelyn disagrees with an emphatic head shake. "Not at all."
"And why is that?"
"Because I'm a doctor and a mother that lost her child to cancer. I know the signs. I know the importance of adhering to the after cancer care. I know the fear that comes with having a child with cancer," Evelyn explains, her hand tightly holding on Vera's own. "I won't say any of this will make me any more ready if Noah does, in fact, relapse. But I will say that I know the signs—the things other people might not look for. It could help me save his life whereas other people might let those things go unnoticed…I don't want Noah to die because of someone's ignorance. Or neglect."
"That was very…" There's a pregnant pause as Elena looks between them. Vera begins to fidget under the scrutiny, but Evelyn's presence remains firm beside her. Steadying her. She lets out a slow exhale as Elena finally continues.
"I believe that your grief and loss have put you in a unique position of understanding…in terms of understanding that perhaps Noah's grief at the loss of never having a family for the younger years of his life will be a permanent and long lasting grief just like yours will be—and I believe most people won't have that insight," she honestly admits. "Are you prepared to handle any long-lasting effects of his grief and possible neglect?"
Evelyn looks to Vera, and when their eyes meet, they answer simultaneously. "Yes."
"Perfecttt," she draws out as she inscribes one last thing on that damned yellow pad.
She looks up, smiling widely. "Well, that's all I have for today"
Vera's eyebrows shoot up. "We're done?"
"Yep. The first visit is essentially just a way to get your toes wet," she says excitedly in a way that matches her personality perfectly. "But before our next visit I would like you to both separately write a short biography about yourselves. Your relationship with your parents, how well you did at sports, what you liked to do in school…basically anything that you feel was important to building who you are today. Does that sound good?"
"Can't wait," Vera dryly replies.
"G
reat! I'll call to schedule our next appointment as soon as possible. It was wonderful getting to know you both."
After leading Elena outside, Evelyn drops onto the couch—her head resting on Vera's thighs. Fingers start delicately combing through her hair and she closes her eyes automatically. "How do you think it went?"
"Mmm…I think it went good."
"Well," Evelyn corrects, not bothering to open her eyes.
"Really, Evelyn?"
"Yes. Really. I know you're much smarter than you make yourself seem, Vera. You can utilize that intelligence around me without fear of being mocked. "
"Fine," Vera huffs. "I think it went well then."
She hums as Vera's fingers start massaging her temples. "How…well…exactly?"
Vera smiles down at Evelyn. Her features are soft and relaxed, and yet she's still hellbent on worrying the hell out of them both. "Am I rating it on a scale of 1-10?"
She nods against the fabric of Vera's slacks. "Preferably."
"Okay," Vera pretends to think. "I'd say it was about a four."
Panic is clear in Evelyn's voice when she asks, "That's all? Are you sure? I think it was more of a six or se—"
Vera's laughter immediately cuts her off. With a scowl, she sits up. Of course she would be dating the only woman that had a penchant for acting like she was twelve. "Vera, this is serious!"
"Sorry! I'm sorry, baby." Vera reaches over to cup Evelyn's cheeks. Her thumbs move in soft circles over even softer skin. "I think we did fine. She didn't seem uneasy and she didn't disagree with anything. Those are good signs."
"You don't think I was too…I don't know, nostalgic?"
"No. You were perfect." Evelyn raises an eyebrow, but Vera reassures her with a kiss. "Really. It showed you were human and you loved Tristan more than anything. It was perfect."
"You think so?"
The insecurity is evident in Evelyn—a woman who's gone through so many trials and tribulations—but still fears she's not enough. Vera wants to smooth away the worried wrinkles now decorating her face; the gaping cracks in her heart. She knows she'll never fix them completely, but she'll be damned if she doesn't try.
"Yes. Absolutely yes." She peppers Evelyn's face with quick, feather light kisses until they're both overcome with laughter. This look, the smiling carefree one, is a much better look—one she'll try to put on Evelyn's face every single day for the rest of her life.
She brushes a few wayward strands of hair away from Evelyn's face. "What do you say we go out and celebrate?"
"It's better to not count your eggs before they…oh, that's not right," Evelyn pouts. "Well, never mind. I'm just trying to say that the process is hardly over."
"But I'd say we're off on the right foot. So let's get some ice cream," she raises her brows, "my treat."
Evelyn debates only for a moment before standing from the couch. Vera knows her weak spots, after all. "Let me grab my coat."
The air is crisp as they slowly begin walking home from the little parlor at the end of the street, hand in hand. The ice cream was good, and the company was better, so Vera doesn't much mind when a light flurry starts to fall around them. Tilting her head towards the sky, Evelyn leans into Vera as the tiny snowflakes begin to pepper her face. "Tristan and I would always come outside at night and watch the snow fall. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
"It is," Vera agrees, glancing to Evelyn. Her eyes are closed, melting ice is caught in strands of her hair, and the corners of her lips are tilted upwards in a smile much more beautiful than a snowfall could ever be.
"Marry me," she whispers, the words coming out of their own accord.
"What?" Evelyn looks to Vera, then, with a slightly dazed smile on her face.
"Marry me," Vera repeats more loudly this time, while stopping them in the middle of the sidewalk. "I don't have a ring yet or anything, which, in hindsight, isn't the most romantic thing, but today really got me thinking. I love you and I already know I want to spend my life with you. So why wait, ya know? I mean we don't have to get married tomorrow or, hell, not even this year. I just want it to be known that we will be someday. So…" Vera cuts of her long winded rambling with a sideways grin. "I love you, Evelyn Truby, now and for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?
"Vera, I…" The words are stuck in her throat. She knew they would eventually end up here, she really did. She knew it was as inevitable, as inevitable could ever mean to be. And yet, somehow the question throws her into a tailspin of momentary shock. To be able to spend the rest of her life with someone like Vera is…unfathomable. Vera is perfect, or at least perfect for Evelyn, and to be able to spend the rest of her life with Vera? Wonderful, but almost unfathomable.
The warmth of Vera's lips against her knuckles brings her back from her jumbled thoughts. She gives an imperceptible shake of her head, and a wide grin starts to blossom across her face.
"Yes. Yes, of course I'll marry you."
Instantly, Vera's hands are cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for a kiss. A kiss of promise and new beginnings. And though the snow is falling harder now, frigid air is whipping at her bare legs, and Vera's fingers are cold against her face, she's never felt so warm in her entire life.
Chapter 30
Vera trails kisses down the pale, pleading column of Evelyn's throat, relishes the way Evelyn's stomach clenches when her fingers roam down Evelyn's chest, her sides, the tops of her thighs. Bodies flush against each other, warm and soft and comforting—fitting together in the most perfect of ways.
Their staccato breathing flutters through the small space between them, louder than the cars driving by outside and rustling of the cheaply woven sheets. Vera wraps one arm underneath Evelyn's back and the other travels between them, between Evelyn's legs. Long fingers trail the length of wetness before sliding lower still and finding home.
Evelyn nearly cries out at the sensation of being filled, being completed.
Feeling whole, and feeling whole by the way of Vera.
Vera moves gently, never quickening or roughening her pace—it's just one of those nights. Evelyn is helpless against her eyes fluttering shut at the controlled, drawn out pleasure. She can't help her nails digging into Vera's back to pull her closer, to convey her want for deeper, faster, more. Can't help her short gasps, the small moan that involuntarily slips from her lips she gets driven higher and closer to that looming edge.
Vera jerks when Evelyn's touch finds her own sensitive flesh, a quick pace at odds with the own slow one she's giving. It's the only touch she craves and knows she ever will crave.
At this moment there is nothing else. Nothing and no one keeping them apart. No memories of lost children or thoughts of future ones. No social workers or homicides and open cases. Just this. Just them.
And this is everything.
The slated bed starts to sway gently with them. Vera leans back briefly from Evelyn's taut neck to etch this picture of perfection into her memory forever. Evelyn's light hair is splayed out on the pillows all around her, her breasts moving and undulating with each thrust, her lips parted around airy exultations of Vera's name.
Beautiful.
Evelyn's eyes open and meet Vera's—blue locked on brown, hands locked on each other, until Vera's eyes clench and her movements briefly waver. A forewarning; a forewarning Evelyn wants to match.
She closes her eyes, slows her movements against Vera, takes a few short gasping inhales, focuses on catching up to Vera's own impending climax, focuses, focuses. But her pacing is off and Vera hits her release first, though still managing to work through it until Evelyn's body lurches up. Her eyes clench shut, light whimper coming from her lips as she gets hit with wave after wave of her release. Vera, elated and fascinated, watches Evelyn match her own pleasure, feels her come apart in her arms. Feels her trembling. Once every ounce of pleasure is spent from them both, Vera gently slides to her side of the bed.
Evelyn instantly rolls over, cheek resting against Vera's chest. Her breathing, still labor
ed, is extinguished by her light laughter. "That was—"
"Fantastic? Amazing? The best you've ever had?"
"Can I claim all of the above?"
"Damn straight you can," Vera replies, smiling. She fiddles with the ring now adorning Evelyn's finger. They decided on something simplistic, a small diamond set in a white gold band. It fits Evelyn's petite finger perfectly. "I'm still not used to seeing it."
Evelyn smiles as she holds it up. "I can't say I ever expected this for myself."
"Me either," Vera laughs. "I'm pretty sure Ma had resigned herself to never seeing me become a little old cat lady."
"You hate cats," Evelyn retorts. Her fingers trace the small dip of Vera's stomach. "But you've really never had any close calls before?"
"When I was five I was convinced I was going to marry my babysitter, Erica. Does that count?"
Evelyn nudges her. "Vera."
Vera grins. "I'm serious. But what about you? I'm sure you had people lining up for you. Teenage, nerdy Evelyn had to have been pretty hot."
"Hardly. I've always been considered a little too strange for most people's tastes. But that suits me just fine," Evelyn answers. "I'd rather be in the company of the dead anyway."
"Hey!"
"And you, of course."
"That's what I thought," Vera teases. She shifts slightly in the dark towards Evelyn's languidly lying form. "Can I ask you something? It's a little…personal."
"You don't have to ask for permission, Vera."
"Right. Okay." Vera takes a breath, tinkering with the ends of Evelyn's hair. "What about Tristan's father? I've never heard you mention him."
Silence.
"You don't have to answer that," Vera appends. "I was just curious, but that was—"
"It's fine," Evelyn soothes. "I'm simply trying to figure out where to begin."
"Oh. Okay." Vera nervously laughs. "I thought I stepped over a line or something."
"You could never. I share everything with you." Evelyn presses a kiss against Vera's shoulder before readjusting to a more comfortable position. "Did you know I was in Médecins Sans Frontières?"