CHAPTER 26
It was dusk when Kathleen returned from the ER. She had been treating a patient, for over a month now, whose symptoms varied from week to week and didn’t seem to fit any disease. She had a “medical mystery” to solve and needed the solitude and privacy of her office. She was surprised to see Claire sitting cross-legged on the floor with her elbows resting comfortably on her thighs and a book held tightly in her hands. The natural light was dimming and as she scrunched closer to the page, her hair fell loosely around her face, obscuring all but the book from her view. She reminded Kathleen of a Princess who was held prisoner in a castle, waiting to be rescued by Prince Charming. For a moment, Kathleen wondered why it couldn’t be Princess Charming who did the rescuing.
Claire looked up with a startled expression.
Kathleen smiled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Whoops, I meant to be out of your way before you came home. I was just sorting the books and I got caught up in Doctor Hudson’s Secret Journal. It’s about doing a good deed and keeping it a secret.” Kathleen knew if a book had the word “secret” in the title, it would get Claire’s attention.
Claire struggled to stand up. “Ugh, my legs have fallen asleep.”
Kathleen offered to help and put her hand out. Claire took Kathleen’s hand, her face flushed, and a strange expression crossed her face. Then, as if she was shaking off a new and indefinable feeling, Claire offered the book to Kathleen. “Someday, you’ll have to read this one.”
Kathleen held the book in her hand. “Claire, do you understand patient confidentiality?”
“Yes, Helen had me take an oath when I first started working here.”
“An oath?”
“Well, the oath was my idea, but Helen explained how important it was not to talk about a patient except with the staff. I thought if I’m part of the staff, I should take some kind of an oath, like the Hippocratic Oath that physicians take.”
Kathleen had to suppress her laughter, Claire looked so serious. “What was the oath?”
“Helen made it up.” Claire raised her right hand and recited: “I, Claire Marie Hollander, do solemnly swear to uphold the laws of confidentiality by keeping my ears open, my mouth shut, and not discussing patients with anyone except Kathleen, Sam, and Helen—unless, it’s an emergency and I have to call 911 or Linc. Above all, remember: Do no harm.”
“That’s a perfect oath,” said Kathleen, clapping her hands lightly at the performance. “Since you’ve been sworn in, I feel I can ask for your help in my medical investigation. There’s a patient who comes in almost every week with different symptoms that evade a clear diagnosis. I can use your computer skills to see if we can find some kind of a pattern. I’m going to check medical websites for information and perhaps together we can help this patient.”
Claire’s eyes lit up like the Empire State Building on New Year’s Eve. “I know exactly what to do. I can see a spreadsheet in my mind. Can I bring my computer downstairs to your office? That way we can share the patient’s file and information.”
She hugged Kathleen impulsively and gushed, “Oh, Kathleen, this is the best job I’ve ever had.”
Remembering the power of her physical therapy, Kathleen willed her hands to stay on Claire’s back and not go exploring.
All Kathleen could think about was Claire.
She watched Claire working in the front office and imagined brushing against her. Claire would look up and smile, a smile that said, I love you and I can’t wait to be alone with you. At night, she fantasized about walking up the stairs with Claire to her bedroom; slowly undressing each other, soft kisses that lingered and explored, touches as velvety as butterflies, falling asleep nestled against each other.
She was tormented. Her desires were getting stronger and as hard as she tried, it was becoming increasingly difficult to deny their existence. She was in an unenviable conflict between passion and prudence. She thought she would go crazy.
Kathleen couldn’t allow her confusion to reign. She needed to talk with someone, and she thought about Gayle. Perhaps this would be a good time for Gayle and Robert to visit. It had been a while, and they hadn’t met Claire.
The Four Musketeers were going to be reunited. Helen was busy preparing meals for the weekend and Sam was putting their guest room in order. The Four had plans for a late Friday night bridge game, and at some point Robert and Sam were going to tour the grounds for potential landscaping chores.
Kathleen knew that Helen would be cooking something special for the weekend and wasn’t surprised when she gave her a long grocery list. Kathleen and Claire went shopping at Canfield Supermarket. Neither one could stick to Helen’s list. They kept finding items that might be fun to nibble on or, as Claire would say, “To nosh on.” They came home that evening loaded down with bags. They chuckled at some of the extras: exotic olives chosen by Claire, and fresh strawberries covered in chocolate, Kathleen’s pick.
Kathleen couldn’t resist the chocolate ice cream infused with peanut butter. They sat at the kitchen table with two spoons, passing the carton back and forth as they chatted and laughed. “Whoops,” said Kathleen as she gazed at the empty carton. “I knew we should have bought two.”
Kathleen saw her last patient at noon on Friday and a little while later a blue sedan pulled up to the driveway. She rushed down to the car. Gayle put her arms around her, called her Baby, and told her she had made Kathleen’s favorite, lasagna with meat sauce.
Robert hugged her, looked at the house, and whispered, “Honey, we stole it from them.” Kathleen put her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She loved the way he felt and looked. Although Robert had turned sixty, he had the tall, lean body of an athlete and when he hugged Kathleen she felt safe and protected.
Gayle called to Robert to get “the things” out of the trunk. When Kathleen saw “the things,” she had to laugh. Gayle had gone shopping and the trunk was overflowing with grocery bags. Kathleen told Gayle and Robert not to move and ran up the stairs to get Claire. She introduced Claire to Gayle and Robert, and together they carried bag after bag into the house.
Sam and Helen were waiting in the kitchen. After hugs and kisses, the groceries were put away and they sat down to a sumptuous feast of lasagna, Claire’s homemade chicken soup, and freshly baked Italian bread. Everyone complimented Claire on the soup. She explained it was her bubba’s famous recipe and took three days to make.
“Could I have the recipe, honey?” asked Gayle.
“Over my dead body,” said Claire without missing a beat. “And Bubba is the one who would kill me!”
Gayle leaned over to Kathleen and said, “I really like this girl.”
Oscar came down from his second story lair to say hello and make his presence known. Claire told them how Oscar Tilquist, the Third got his name and Robert sat up straight and said, “I haven’t heard that name for years. I remember him! My older cousin and I used to watch his TV show. I felt so privileged to be watching such a grown-up program. We thought it was racy back in the day, but looking back, I can see how innocent it really was.”
They fell into an easy rhythm of storytelling and laughter. Claire looked at Kathleen. “Your turn to tell a story. Tell them about our adventure with river rafting.”
Kathleen hesitated.
Claire said, “Come on, Kathleen. If you don’t tell the story I will, and I have to warn you, if I tell it, I’ll end up being the hero.”
Kathleen smiled and began talking about their adventure. At first she spoke slowly, as if measuring every word. Then a veil lifted, her eyes brightened, her smile shined, and she became a storyteller.
“I think you all know about the rafting at Christmas River. Claire and I decided it could be fun. I made reservations for a Class Two trip, thinking this is a good way to start and gradually work our way up. Well, on this day someone overslept,” Claire pointed to Kathleen and Kathleen pointed toward Claire, “and we missed our grou
p. So there we are, standing on the bank of the river without a raft. After a while, a supply raft for one of the downriver campgrounds showed up. The guides saw us and said, ‘Hey, climb aboard and join us.’ Claire elbows me and says, ‘Let’s take this raft, how bad can it be?’ Being a person of few words I said okay. I’m thinking Claire’s the big adventurer. She must know what she’s doing.
“We climbed onto the supply raft with these eight-foot tall dudes with muscles that would shame the Hulk. Our job was to sit down and try not to drown. The trip started out with some gentle rapids, almost like a Disneyland ride. Keep in mind that Claire and I are sitting next to each other and the guides are doing all the work. We’re going through a gorge that was forested with all these beautiful trees, really beautiful, and I’m enjoying the scenery. All of a sudden we hit some rapids and the raft bounces way up and—” Kathleen demonstrated with her hands the up and down motion. “Smack! Smack! It hits down with incredible force.
“At this point, Claire gets really scared and starts to stand up. One of the guides grabs her and throws her down right on top of me. For the rest of the trip Claire’s clinging to me and crying like a baby. The funniest part was coming home. We’re sitting in the bed of a truck soaked to the skin, and wrapped in blankets that stink from fish, and Claire’s telling me how much fun she had and wants to know when we can do it again.”
At this point everyone was laughing and clapping their hands.
Claire was beaming. “That was a great story. I had a feeling once you got started, you’d be a natural.”
After lunch Robert and Sam left “to look into some things that need to be done around the house.” Helen and Claire volunteered to clean the kitchen and Kathleen and Gayle went for a walk.
They took the path that led through a stand of trees to a small clearing that was once used as a meditation retreat. A gazing ball graced the center of the clearing while three cast-iron benches formed a semicircle around the ball. Azaleas, hydrangea, and ferns were planted around the perimeter of the clearing, creating a natural enclosure. They sat quietly on one of the benches.
Gayle held Kathleen’s hand. “You told a wonderful story.”
“Thanks. I didn’t think I could do it.”
“It looked as if you and Claire were having so much fun together.”
Kathleen put her head down.
“You have feelings for her?”
Kathleen nodded.
“You’re in love?”
Kathleen nodded.
Gayle put her finger under Kathleen’s chin and lifted her face. “Kathleen, look at me. You have to talk about it.”
“It hurts too much. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I let my guard down and opened my heart and she crept in. I have so much fun with her and I’m so much in love and I can feel my heart breaking, all at the same time.”
“Love can be the best and the worst. I wish it wasn’t so hard for you. Do you think you can talk to her?”
Kathleen shook her head. “I can’t. She talks a lot about guys and dating. She’s about as straight as anyone can be. What happens if I say something and she leaves? Then I’ve lost her friendship. I don’t want that to happen. I feel so different when I’m with her. She makes me laugh and she makes me want to talk. When I’m near her, all I can think about is being able to reach out and hold her.”
“Anyone who can make you talk and tell stories is worth keeping and fighting for. It seems to me that she was enjoying your company as much as you were enjoying hers. Kathleen, you can’t keep running away from who you are.”
“Gayle, are you mad at me?”
“No, why?”
“You’ve called me Kathleen twice.”
Gayle laughed softly. “Oh, Baby, I’m not mad at you. My heart breaks for you and I want you to be happy, that’s all. Have you thought that you may be making your life more complicated than it has to be? I was watching the two of you at lunch and, quite frankly, the way you were interacting… it was more like sweethearts than friends. Maybe it’s her style, but the way she kept looking at you and reaching out to touch your hand while you were telling your story—”
Gayle shook her head. “Well, it makes me think that maybe she has feelings, too, and doesn’t understand them. If this is all new to her she might be as afraid of them as you are. Sometimes, you have to take a risk. Look at how you wanted this house, and look at the risk you took to get it.”
Kathleen sat quietly, trying to collect her thoughts. “Do you remember when I told you about Mrs. Roth?”
“Yes, she was a wonderful friend to you.”
“When she died she left me her books. It was too hard for me to open the boxes and look at them. I asked Claire to help and she had the best time organizing and putting the books on the shelves. If she read a book, she would tell me all about it. It felt as if I was little and someone was telling me a bedtime story. She’s so excited about life; I feel better just being around her. Everything is an adventure and every adventure is a story.”
Gayle understood perfectly; she always did. “Those are some wonderful qualities, and you love her for having them. If you don’t say something, she’ll never know how you really feel, and that is more likely to break up your friendship than being honest with her. You don’t have to tell her you’re in love, but maybe you can talk to her about who you are. She’s a New York City girl and I don’t think there’s any shortage of gays and lesbians in New York. I’m sure you’re not the first lesbian that Claire has been friends with.”
Kathleen shook her head. “I made a conscious decision to stay in the closet and now I’m stuck. I should be able to deal with this without having to call you.”
“Everyone needs someone to go to, and I’m glad you came to me. I know how hard this is and I wish I had a way to take your pain away.”
The sun was beginning to set and the early evening chill forced Gayle to button her sweater. “We should go back to the house. Let’s see what everyone is up to, and I want to see your office with all those wonderful books.”
When they walked back to the house, they heard music coming from the solarium. Sam and Helen were dancing to the romantic song “Someone to Watch Over Me.” When the song ended, “Dream A Little Dream of Me” began to play.
Robert stood up and bowed in front of Gayle. “This, I believe, was playing the night we met. May I have this dance?” Everyone applauded as Robert and Gayle fell into a natural rhythm that belied the passage of time.
Sam sat with his arm around Helen. As the moments passed, Helen moved in closer and let her head rest on his chest.
Kathleen and Claire sat on the couch, inches apart. Kathleen felt they were separated by a deep crevice that couldn’t be traversed. She was in love with someone whose life was built around dancing and romantic music from a bygone era. Kathleen had never learned to dance and didn’t understand romance. She felt her heart aching and wondered if it was true that you could die from a broken heart.
CHAPTER 27
Kathleen and Claire woke early to hike the five-mile trail to Christmas River. The summer weather had been unpredictable: one day they were wearing Tshirts and the next day the air was chilly enough for sweaters. Today began as a T-shirt day.
They walked along the trail, listening to the rustling of the surrounding foliage as small woodland animals scurried about. The trail was wide enough for them to walk side by side, and they traded juicy town gossip, compared favorite foods, and chatted about the best movies they had ever seen. They laughed when they realized they had a common favorite in Young Frankenstein. They had watched it several times and could recite dialogue and act out scenes together.
“Remember this one?” said Kathleen, imitating Gene Wilder: “What knockers!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to push them back in.
Claire affected a German accent and replied, “Oh, zank you, Doctor!”
They laughed—Claire bawdily, Kathleen self-consciously—but then fell into a companionable si
lence, each left to her own thoughts and feelings, as they ambled along the trail.
During those quiet moments, Kathleen revisited some of her childhood memories— the pain of being bullied, the knowledge that friends were for others and not for her. Her memories felt like animal traps waiting to be sprung. The torment she felt now came from the longings that wanted to go beyond friendship with Claire. She knew, or at least tried to convince herself, that sometimes you have to settle.
Kathleen and Claire continued to walk until they came to a clearing next to the river. A summer storm had been predicted, but they had decided to ignore the weather report. Others had paid attention and the clearing, usually filled with families, was deserted. Claire spread a blanket on the ground, placing it where the sun was shining through the trees. They sat quietly eating their lunch. Claire lay down and motioned to Kathleen. “Come,” she said, as she patted the blanket, “see how the trees look.”
Not a good idea, thought Kathleen, but felt compelled to sit next to Claire. Danger signals were going off in her head as she found herself moving closer. She tried to keep as much physical distance as the blanket allowed.
“Lie down,” beckoned Claire. “If you lie down and look up, you can see the fairy dust through the trees.”
Kathleen wondered, was it possible that Claire was so naive that she didn’t feel the growing sexual tension? But she complied, as if her better sense was no longer operating. She lay down, their legs barely touching. She should move, put more distance between them, but she wanted the contact and more. They stayed until the clouds began to hide the sun.
Claire sat up, shading Kathleen from the remaining light. She took one hand and brushed away the hair that had fallen over Kathleen’s eye. She sat quietly, gazing at Kathleen, then in what appeared to be a startled move, stood up. “It’s going to rain, we should go.”
The warm summer day had suddenly turned cold and the sun, which had sparkled through the trees, was arguing with the dark clouds for dominance. Shadows descended, giving them an ominous warning. The rain that began as a drizzle quickly changed to a downpour. The trail that had been friendly and welcoming became slippery and unforgiving.
Flowers from Iraq (The Storyteller and the Healer Book 1) Page 18