by Karis Walsh
Jenny said good night and left her parents to unpack and rest after their long cross-country flight. They looked as perky as ever, while she dragged herself up another flight of stairs leading to her new room. They had always been energized by travel and new places and unfamiliar people. Jenny was the opposite. Her day had been filled with nudges out of her comfort zone. Her parents’ arrival, her spat with Helen. Most of all, the sensation of closeness she’d felt when she and Helen had talked outside the auditorium. She’d been drawn into Helen’s life, and she had been both disappointed and relieved when Mel and her parents had broken the spell.
Jenny opened the door to the rose-colored room and saw what Mel had done to make the place welcoming. Her belongings had been packed and moved here while she was still at the center with her parents. Mel had turned down the bedcovers and had put some bottled water and snacks on a small mahogany table. Jenny stripped down to her underwear and fell onto the bed, pulling the quilt up to her chin. She was thirsty, but even the thought of uncapping a bottle of water seemed to be too much effort.
But there was Helen. Downstairs right now with Mel, preparing breakfast for the small army of volunteers. Jenny was tempted to go see her and to offer some help, just to be around her again. Common sense warred with temptation. Tired as she was, Jenny was about to give in and make the long trek downstairs when someone tapped at her door. Her first instinct was to feign sleep in case it was one of her parents, wanting her to go for a midnight jog or go swim with the whales or something insanely active. But neither of them would have knocked politely and waited for her to answer. The door would be open by now.
“Come in,” she called, pulling herself to a sitting position against the headboard.
It was Helen, with her cheeks flushed from the heat of the oven and smears of flour and some sort of orange-y batter on her navy sweatshirt. Much too beautiful to be alone with Jenny in Jenny’s room in the middle of the night. Jenny didn’t have enough self-control for this.
“I thought you might like some tea.” Helen came over to the bed and set a small tray on the bed stand. “Chamomile, to help your mind stop circling and let you sleep. And a piece of pumpkin bread in case you’re hungry.”
Say thank you and good night. Instead, Jenny patted the mattress next to her hip. See? No self-control. “Thank you for this. Why don’t you sit with me for a few minutes. You look like you could use some rest, too.”
“I’m all right,” Helen said, but she sat on the bed with a groan. “Great. Now I’ll never get up.”
“Fine with me.”
“Stop.” Helen laughed and swatted at Jenny’s covered legs. She lay down crosswise on the bed, her rib cage draped over Jenny’s calves, and propped her head on her hand. “You’re tempting enough, saying things like that,” she said.
Jenny had been worried about her own response to Helen, afraid to get too close after a lifetime of moving and with more of the same in the foreseeable future. She hadn’t stopped to consider whether Helen might feel the same attraction to her, but Helen’s words and the deepening red on her neck hinted at her feelings. Jenny cleared her throat, acutely aware of Helen’s breasts and side where they rested on her lower legs.
“Your parents certainly jumped right in to help tonight,” Helen said.
Jenny was glad to have a change in topic. Talking about her parents was the mental equivalent of a cold shower. “They always do, no matter what the cause. They seem to have unlimited energy and drive.”
A trait Jenny didn’t share. She had strength and endurance when it came to her work, but her parents were on another level entirely. The evening with them had been a whirlwind as she showed them around and put them to work helping Helen clean pens. Soon her dad had wanted to try something new, and he had ended the night in the wash area, sudsing and scrubbing the oil from the fragile feathers. Her mom had likewise wanted to be part of every aspect of Jenny’s operation, and she had volunteered to examine and treat the recuperating wounded animals and birds in the ICU area of the center. Jenny had been glad for capable extra help, of course, but the difference between being with them and sitting here with Helen was astronomical. Helen stirred her up but centered her at the same time.
“Always looking to do more,” Helen said. “Did they expect the same from you when you were small?”
“Not at first.” Jenny remembered long, boring, dusty days when she would have done anything to get parental attention. Once they turned it on her full force, she had longed to return to her days of invisibility. Somewhere in the middle would have been nice. “When I was a little kid, I was…let’s say unsupervised. Once I was old enough to help at the clinics and was planning my own future, I became more of an object of interest to them.”
“They must be very proud of what you do. It’s incredible, how many lives and communities you’ve saved.” Helen plucked at the quilt where it lay over Jenny’s knees.
Jenny swallowed, distracted by the buffered but electric touch of Helen’s restless fingers. “I guess, in a way. But I guarantee they won’t be here long before I get The Talk again.”
Helen’s hand stilled. “The sex talk?” she asked with laughter in her voice. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”
Jenny laughed too and jostled Helen with her legs. “No, silly. The Don’t you think it’s time you gave up this hobby and went to real medical school? talk. Although I’m too old for that one, too.”
“You’re not serious, are you?”
Jenny nodded. “Completely. They believe I’m in a phase. I’ll eventually go to med school and we’ll travel the globe as a happy family.”
“Insane. You’re a natural with animals, and you’re doing important work. I’d expect you to go the other way if you were planning to make a change. Maybe settle somewhere and have pets of your own. A family. A community. Something you haven’t allowed yourself to have before.”
“Never,” Jenny said with emphasis. The single-word answer was her knee-jerk reaction whenever anyone asked her the question about settling down, but it wasn’t the whole story. And Helen wasn’t just anyone. She deserved more of an explanation. “I used to imagine having a real home with a yard for animals and friends who lived close enough to see whenever I wanted. I sort of had the life I’d dreamed of in vet school, but it was a transition time for all of us, between college and career. Everyone was looking toward the future, and I didn’t feel settled like I’d expected.”
“I understand why you couldn’t find the home of your dreams when you were young and living with your parents, and even during vet school. But you have options now.”
Helen shifted her weight on Jenny’s shins. Their skin wasn’t touching anywhere, but Jenny felt Helen’s movements as friction when the cotton sheets rubbed against her bare legs. The exquisite pressure from Helen’s body made Jenny want to stay here forever, but she couldn’t let her body and heart make the decisions, could she? “Movement is what I know. I can’t let myself feel dissatisfied or second-guess the choices I’ve made. If I do, then the pain of saying good-bye is too hard to bear. I learned that lesson early.”
“Out of necessity. To protect your heart when you were a child. Do you still need those defenses?”
“Do you?” Jenny rubbed her leg against Helen’s back as she spoke, using the contact to let Helen know she wasn’t trying to insult her with the words. “You told me you kept yourself at a distance from the people here until the spill. Everyone has some armor in place, to protect themselves from being hurt by other people or the circumstances of life.”
“True, but I’m changing. I came here believing I didn’t need anyone else’s help or support. I’ve realized I need the people around me, and they need me, too. The oil might have drowned my business, but I’ll start over again somewhere else, somehow. And next time I won’t be so stubborn about opening myself up to friendships and connections.”
“Somewhere else. Exactly.” Jenny focused on the one thing Helen had said that seemed similar to J
enny’s own life, although in her heart she was convinced Helen belonged right where she was. “It’s not this town or these specific people. It’s the way you feel about them. I’m not even sure a house or piece of land would make me as happy as I imagined when I was little. I was lonely then and thought a home was what I needed. I just pictured home as a building. Now I see home as something else entirely.” What was her definition now? A person? Helen? “It can mean a community full of friends, like Cannon Beach, and I can take them with me wherever I go, reaching out to them from wherever I happen to be. I could work more on making lasting friendships, but I’m born to travel, I guess. It must be in my genes.”
“I was forced to move around, looking for a home,” Helen said. “I’m tired of it.”
“Me, too, sometimes,” Jenny admitted in a barely audible voice. Helen crawled up the bed and curled up beside her. Jenny wasn’t immune to the arousal she felt when Helen got so close, but the awareness of their divergent futures was enough to keep her feelings in check. She wrapped an arm around Helen’s waist and pulled her close, taking comfort in this one moment they were able to share.
*
Jenny had been lonely before. Playing hopscotch by herself on a dusty lane while her parents treated sick children in their clinic. Getting in bed alone on every first night in every new city or village. She thought she was familiar with every facet and nuance of loneliness.
And then she woke up without Helen.
Jenny was up before the sun, but Helen had already slipped away. She lay quietly for a moment, letting the sensation of being without Helen wash through her like a tsunami. Somehow she knew there was a good chance she would feel this way every morning for the rest of her life. She’d gone to bed as a whole person holding another person in her arms. She woke with a missing piece.
At the same time, she felt better rested and more alive than she had for months. She’d slept soundly and with a sense of peace she hadn’t known before. Nothing in her reaction to Helen was straightforward. Everything was full of contradictions. Their night had been chaste, but she now felt closer to Helen than anyone else. She had shared with her. Shared the doubts she rarely voiced, and the dreams she never allowed to flourish.
She got out of bed and went through her normal morning routine. Speed shower, put hair in a ponytail, and find the cleanest clothes in the pile on the floor. Within ten minutes of waking up, she was on her way downstairs. She considered stopping by her parents’ room, but as early as she’d gotten up and as quickly as she’d gotten ready, she was certain they had beaten her downstairs.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” her dad said when she came into the kitchen. He was sitting at the small breakfast nook with her mom, Mel, and Danny. “We were going to come get you if you didn’t wake up soon.”
Jenny took a deep breath while she put last night’s tea tray in the sink and rinsed her cup. The backyard was still in shadow, but she saw Pam’s figure moving past the windows of her art studio. Pam spent a lot of time in there when she wasn’t at the rescue center, but Jenny had overheard enough to know Pam wasn’t actually painting right now. This oil spill was affecting everyone in its path. Eventually, though, life would find its balance again. Pam would paint, Mel would have a full house of paying guests, and Helen would somehow find a way to run her own business and make it a success. And Jenny? She would move to the next place that needed her. If she’d learned anything from living in one crisis after the other, it was not to believe in the temporary reality a disaster created. She’d fallen for it this time, but soon enough she’d be back to her routine. Her parents—even though they drove her crazy at times—understood her lifestyle more than anyone else.
“I haven’t slept through the night in ages,” Jenny said as she poured a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar. Might as well keep the peace. “I guess I stayed in bed longer than expected.”
“You look rested,” Mel said with a subtle wink. “I guess the bonus features of your new room agreed with you.”
Jenny couldn’t hide her answering grin. Mel must have noticed Helen going into her room and not coming out until morning. Jenny still felt Helen’s absence like a wound, but the memory of holding her made her smile. “Yeah,” she said. “The bed was very comfortable.”
“I’ll bet it was.”
“What room were you in?” Danny asked, looking back and forth between the two laughing women. “Did you get a new mattress, Mom?”
“We’re going to miss you when you go back to school, Danny,” Jenny said, changing the subject. “You’ve been a great help at the center.”
“Are you in college?” Lars asked. “What are you studying?”
“What school?” Eve chimed in.
Jenny rolled her eyes. She recognized the eagerness in their voices. They were asking simple questions, but they could become serious medical-profession recruiters at any moment. She sometimes wondered if they got a commission every time they talked a student into pursuing a medical degree.
“I’m on scholarship at Oregon State University.” Danny smeared grape jelly on a thick slice of toast made from homemade bread and passed the jar to Jenny. “I haven’t picked a major yet.”
“I think he’d be a brilliant professor,” Mel said, elbowing him in the side. “Maybe literature?”
“Yeah, right,” Danny said with a laugh. He looked at Jenny. “Can you see me in a tweed blazer with elbow patches?”
“You probably can wear whatever you want. I don’t think there’s a required uniform,” Jenny joked. She took a bite of her toast. Crunchy outside and soft in the middle. Flecks of whole grains and chopped walnuts gave it good texture and complemented the sweet jam. She’d bet anything Helen had made the bread. Was there anything she couldn’t make? Money out of thin air, Jenny supposed. She sighed and tried to get her mind off Helen and back on to the conversation going on around her.
“Yes, Mom, I know Pam wants me to be an art major, but you saw my final project for the drawing class I took last semester. What a disaster.” Danny wiped his hands and neatly folded his napkin. “Actually, I’ve kind of been thinking of vet school. Jenny and I were talking about it, and after working with the animals here at the center, I’m even more convinced I’d like to try.”
“Really?” Mel asked with a proud smile on her face. “You haven’t mentioned it before, but I can see it being a good fit for you. You’ve always been great with animals.”
“If you’re interested in the medical field, you might want to consider working with people instead of animals,” Lars said, taking a sip of coffee. “The opportunities for helping others are limitless, and you’d be making a real contribution to the world.”
Mel and Danny sent shocked looks Jenny’s way, as if they were hoping she hadn’t heard the comment. She’d heard it too many times to be bothered by it anymore. She took another slice of toast and coated it with butter and a drizzle of honey. “I think you’re a natural, Danny. If you need a letter of recommendation, count on me. Vet school admissions committees love to see this kind of volunteer work on applications.”
“Thanks, Jenny,” he said. “I just might take you up on that.”
Jenny didn’t miss the look her parents exchanged. She could already feel them gearing up for The Talk.
*
Jenny was silent on the way to the center. Her parents had talked nonstop yesterday about Cannon Beach, the beauty of the area, and the work Jenny was doing here. Today, they had already moved on and were focused on their upcoming trip. She wouldn’t be surprised if they left as unexpectedly as they’d come. She was sure they’d remember some city or research library or colleague they desperately needed to visit before they left the States. She wouldn’t take it personally when it happened. By now she knew they weren’t trying to cut their visit with her short but merely shifting ahead to the next stop on their never-ending journey. They couldn’t stop their itch to get moving again. It was their nature as a couple and as doctors.
Even as she
listened to their chatter, Jenny replayed the scene from breakfast in her mind. Mel obviously had an interest in Danny’s future, and she had ideas about what might be good for him. But the moment he mentioned a different choice he was considering, Mel was right there with him. Jenny had no doubt Mel and Pam would encourage and support him no matter what career he picked. Her parents had been thrown into relief against the backdrop of Mel’s unconditional acceptance, pushing their agenda as always. Again, Jenny couldn’t blame them or get angry. Again, it was their nature.
But was it hers? She knew she’d never go to med school. She couldn’t imagine a life without animals—caring for them and protecting them. She’d felt confident in her choice and proud of herself for following her own heart. But had she truly committed to living her own life? She sometimes wondered if her insistence on constant travel was really her own decision, or a way of atoning for her rebellious decision to be a vet. Or maybe she’d taken the easiest path, the one most familiar to her. She treated the patients of her choice, but she mimicked her family’s chosen method of doing so.
Jenny pushed the jumble of thoughts out of her mind as they pulled in to the parking lot. Right now, she was more concerned about Helen. Would she be here this morning? Would there be tension between them? They’d done nothing more than sleep in the same bed, but Jenny had a feeling the night had affected Helen just as deeply as it had her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have left without a word.