Darla was alone, propped up in the bed, her eyes closed. Craig had left earlier when Denise arrived to get some much needed sleep at his apartment. Denise had warned her that Darla was on a strong pain medication and would be groggy, so Katherine was careful not to startle her. But the moment Darla heard the door swish shut, her eyes fluttered open.
"Hey there," Katherine said, walking over to the bed. The steady beep of the heart monitor kept rhythm with her steps.
"Hey yourself," Darla replied, groggily.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm still alive."
Katherine smiled at her remark. It was so like Darla.
"Did you have a nice trip?" Darla asked, her voice stronger and touched with sarcasm.
Her tone annoyed Katherine, but she silently reminded herself to be nice. But when she saw the gleam in Darla's eyes, Katherine realized she was egging her on. Katherine couldn't keep her resolve any longer. She spoke in a steady voice.
"You knew, didn't you? You knew what kind of place Martin lived in."
"I had an idea," Darla said, a sly look in her eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Would you have gone if you'd known?" Darla asked.
"Of course I would have," Katherine answered quickly, growing angrier by the second at Darla's know-it-all tone. "Well, I probably would have," she hedged, rethinking her answer. "Oh, shit, I don't know!" Katherine threw her arms into the air in exasperation. "But at least I could have made the decision for myself if I had known the truth."
"Then I saved you the trouble."
Katherine eyed Darla contemptuously, her anger exploding. "Dammit Darla, you can't keep going around playing God with other people's lives. Who the hell are you to decide what I should and shouldn't do? I swear, sometimes you can be such a self-absorbed, self-indulgent B-" Katherine stopped herself, remembering where she was, but when she saw Darla's cocked eyebrow daring her to continue, she finished. "Bitch! There, I said it. You're a Bitch!" Katherine was fuming, but Darla only smiled.
"Good. I'm glad I haven't lost my touch."
With one long look, Katherine lost her anger, shook her head and chuckled. "God, you'll never change, will you? You'll be telling us all off from the grave."
"I'll try," Darla said, the gleam still in her eyes. But as Katherine sat down beside her, she noticed how weak Darla had become since the day before. Her color was completely gone, her eyes sunken deeper. Katherine wondered how she'd ever get out of this bed on her own.
"You're not even going to thank me for going, are you?"
"You should thank me for the experience," Darla replied. Katherine sighed again and rolled her eyes.
"How bad was it?" Darla asked, her voice serious now.
"Bad. I've never seen any place like it. It was horrible." Flashes of the AIDS Hotel replayed in Katherine's mind, the sadness of it reflecting in her face. "People with nothing left but to wait to die. And no one there for them."
"I guess I'm pretty lucky then, huh?"
Katherine nodded. "I'd say so." She sat, lost in thought at the difference between Darla's life with AIDS and that of the residents of the hotel. It was like night and day. Darla interrupted her thoughts.
"I have another favor to ask of you," she said in her tired voice. It seemed like every word was a strain.
Katherine rolled her eyes. "Now what? Where are you sending me to now, Siberia?"
Darla ignored her sarcasm. "I need you to promise you'll help take care of Chelsea."
"You know that's a given," Katherine replied with certainty.
"I just want to make sure you do. Denise will do okay and I know Gary will be a good influence on her, but she needs you, too. I want her to have your strength, your ability to never give up. She'll need that."
Katherine was taken aback by Darla's words. An actual compliment. Compliments from Darla were few and far between. She took a moment to absorb it before replying seriously. "I promise I'll be there for her. She's a great kid. She'll grow into a wonderful adult."
Darla nodded, satisfied it was settled. As Katherine watched her, she thought about all they'd been through together. Darla, the unwanted tenant, her partner in crime, the unlikely friend. It made her smile.
"What are you grinning at?" Darla asked.
"You. We make an unlikely pair, you and I. Don't we?"
"We made a good team," Darla replied softly, surprising Katherine again.
"Hey, don't go checking out on me yet. We do make a good team. We still have a lot more to do together. And maybe a cop or two left to tell off." Katherine smiled teasingly, but Darla's eyes held a serious cast.
"Me leave? What, and miss out on this experiment of sisterly love and friendship?" Darla said, smiling wanly.
Katherine chuckled, remembering the first day Darla moved into the apartment above the garage. All the words since then that had been exchanged, the arguments, the victories, the people they had known, the friends they had lost. It all came flooding back to her. The happy moments, the sad ones, the annoying ones. They all lay between them.
"We both know I won't be getting out of this bed again," Darla said without a trace of self-pity in her voice.
The finality of her words, the certainty in her eyes, hit Katherine so hard she had to get up and walk across the room to control her emotions. Yes, deep down she knew Darla would never get up, never go home again, but to hear Darla say it out loud brought the reality of it all to the surface. After fighting AIDS together all these months, it was hard to accept that it was almost over. She didn't want to give up the fight. She didn't want to give up on Darla yet.
Turning back to Darla, two tears running unchecked down her checks, Katherine said in a shaky voice, "Damn you, Darla. Damn you for making me care so much."
"Yeah, I'm just a pain in the ass, aren't I?" Darla asked, the sparkle still there, the smile small, but there.
Katherine felt lost for the first time in months. She walked back to the side of the bed feeling useless, powerless to do anything. "There's still so much left to do," she said sorrowfully. "There are so many people out there suffering and we haven't even scratched the surface helping them. I wish there was something more I could do. For you and for them." Katherine shook her head in exasperation, knowing that all she'd done would never be enough. She felt completely helpless.
"There is something you can do," Darla's weak voice insisted with certainty. "Write about it. All of it."
Katherine looked up at her and frowned. "I have been writing about it. For months. But it's not enough," she protested.
"No," Darla said, shaking her head against the pillows, straining for the right words. "You have the knowledge and the experience now to tell the whole world. The entire story. Allison, Susie, Craig, and me. Don't let people forget. Write about it." Darla stopped, taking a deep breath and staring hard at Katherine. "This is as human as it gets."
Katherine's brows furrowed for a moment until slowly, Darla's words began to make sense. Write about it. It was a powerful story, maybe too powerful. She didn't know if she possessed the strength or the talent to tell it. Without a word, Katherine nodded her understanding. Darla laid back and closed her eyes, a satisfied smile on her ashen face. Katherine sat with her as she fell asleep, watching her, wondering what the fates had in mind when they'd paired them together.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Katherine stood at her office window watching the March sunshine sprinkle its way across the waters of Puget Sound. It had been a long winter for the family in the old Victorian house and the spring sunshine was a welcomed sight.
In the early morning hours after Darla had made Katherine promise to watch over Chelsea, Darla died in her sleep of cardiac arrest with Craig at her side. The doctors did not attempt to revive her as her wishes had stated when she'd entered the hospital for the last time. She died with her dignity intact, her mind still sharp, exactly as she would have wanted it.
The funeral had been a small gathering of family
and friends, planned with Craig weeks before her death. They had purchased side-by-side plots in the small cemetery where Allison lay, and that was where the service was held, graveside only, as she had requested. Darla hadn't wanted a sermon, simply memories spoken by friends and loved ones, and the song she had chosen to have played was Terry Jack's "Seasons in the Sun", sung beautifully by Jeff and another volunteer from his group. It was all so typical of Darla that no one opposed her wishes or thought strangely of them.
She had lived a straight-shooting, come-what-may lifestyle and that was how she wanted it to end.
"We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun, but the wine and the song like the seasons have all gone," sang the final song as she was laid to rest. The words reflected her life completely, making saying goodbye to her both natural and heartbreaking at the same time.
As the casket was lowered into the earth, and everyone turned away to leave, Katherine found it hard to let her eyes leave the box being lowered into the ground. For months, she had helped Darla stay alive, taking care of every detail of her health, watching her every emotion, participating in her schemes, and laughing along with her during the happy times. Now, it was all over. In the beginning, Katherine had never realized how hard it would be to say goodbye. They had never been friends, yet they had ended up being so much more.
"Are you okay?" Denise inquired, letting her eyes follow to the spot Katherine watched so intensely.
Katherine looked over at her friend and slowly nodded. Yes, eventually she would be okay.
After the funeral, Carl took Katherine aside. "I'm going home to my family in Illinois," he told her. "They've never accepted the fact that I'm gay but they want to try to work things out before I'm gone." Carl had been sick over the past few weeks and he knew his time was growing short. His T-cell count was falling, and he had to make a lot of decisions about how he would handle the progression of AIDS. He needed more than what was left of the group now, he needed family. Katherine hugged him close and wished him well, understanding firsthand just how important it was for him to go home.
Katherine also understood how important their small family was to each other at this trying time. They took each day as it came, sometimes remembering with smiles, sometimes with tears. For weeks after the funeral, Katherine would find herself absently running up the stairs to Darla's room to check on her, only to stop halfway up, remembering Darla was no longer on the other side of the door. Darla's room had been left intact, except for the removal of the few necessary papers and documents for settling her estate. Sometimes Chelsea, Denise, or even Katherine would go up there on purpose just to look around and remember. Or to cry. Or just to sit quietly and reflect upon how Darla had so oddly touched their lives.
They had a quiet Christmas that year, Darla's memory still strong on each family members' mind. In January, Craig lost his fight with cancer and AIDS and was buried quietly next to Darla. Katherine found comfort in the fact that they were resting peacefully together, finally free of the disease that had brought them together, yet separated them too soon.
Chelsea had a hard time adjusting to her mother's death at first and Denise took it upon herself to have them attend counseling together. Denise's self-confidence had grown since she'd taken full responsibility for Chelsea and she rarely sought out advice from Katherine for every decision now. She was emerging as her own self-sufficient woman after years of living in Darla's outrageous shadow. She and Gary were still set to marry in June and Chelsea had become a big part in the planning of the wedding. Chelsea was also busy decorating the room she'd occupy when they moved into Gary's house. It all helped to keep her busy and the three were already looking and acting like the family they were about to become.
Katherine had continued writing articles for The Seattle Times, covering topics such as the AIDS hotel and how families deal with life after death from AIDS. But now, as she stood staring out the window of her office, her mind continued to replay her last conversation with Darla. Write about it, she'd told her, words she'd thought about constantly over the past months. Words that scared her yet exhilarated her all at once. It was finally time to do what her months of caring for Darla, Susie, and Allison had prepared her for. Darla was right, it was the most human story she'd ever write. She sat down at her desk and typed into the computer the title of her next novel, Widow, Virgin, Whore.
###
Acknowledgments
Although Widow, Virgin, Whore is a work of fiction, Jeff's AIDS fundraising group was inspired by a real group called The Bunny Brigade that existed from 1993-2001 in the Puget Sound area of Seattle, WA. The Bunny Brigade was an all-volunteer organization that raised funds for, and awareness of, people affected by HIV/AIDS. The money they raised was donated to AIDS service organizations that didn’t have their own fundraising mechanisms. Unfortunately, the group had to disband due to lack of volunteers. If you know of an organization that raises money to help people suffering from AIDS in your area, please give generously.
About the Author
Deanna Lynn Sletten writes women's fiction and romance novels that dig deeply into the lives of the characters, giving the reader an in-depth look into their hearts and souls. She has also written one middle-grade novel that takes you on the adventure of a lifetime.
Deanna's romance novel, Memories, was a semifinalist in The Kindle Book Review's Best Indie Books of 2012. Her novel, Sara's Promise, was a semifinalist in The Kindle Book Review's Best Indie Books of 2013 and a finalist in the 2013 National Indie Excellence Book Awards.
Deanna is married and has two grown children. When not writing, she enjoys walking the wooded trails around her northern Minnesota home with her beautiful Australian Shepherd or relaxing in the boat on the lake in the summer
Additional Books by Deanna Lynn Sletten
Memories
Romance/Women's Fiction
Sara's Promise
Romance/Women's Fiction
Maggie's Turn
Women's Fiction/Family Drama
Connect with Deanna
Deanna Lynn Sletten's Blog
Twitter: @DeannaLSletten
Facebook
Goodreads
Enjoy the following excerpts from Deanna's women's fiction novel, Maggie's Turn, and her romance novel, Memories
Maggie's Turn
Deanna Lynn Sletten
Chapter One
It had not been a good morning at the Harrison household. At least not for Maggie. Her nineteen-year-old son, Kyle, had slept in late, which meant he was late showering and would be late to one of the four college courses he was intent upon failing. Because he was running behind, her fourteen-year-old daughter, Kaia, was late getting ready for school, which meant Maggie's husband, Andrew, had to rush to shower for work. And, of course, Maggie had to rush too since she was always the last person to use the bathroom.
Kaia was pouting and stomping around, because she'd wanted to get to school early to "hang" with her friends. Kyle rolled his eyes as he went out the door to his rusted pickup truck, mumbling that it really didn't matter if he made it to class or not. And Andrew ran through his schedule with Maggie as he rushed out the door to work.
"Remember, I have a seven o'clock meeting tonight, so make sure dinner is on time so I'm not late," he instructed Maggie and was gone a second later.
All Maggie had time for was one long sigh as she slipped a light sweater over her head, pulled on khaki pants, and grabbed her short, red wool jacket and purse, then ran out the door, hoping Kaia wouldn't be late for school.
Maggie stole a glance at her sulking daughter as she maneuvered her minivan through the morning traffic. Kaia was a pretty girl with long, thick auburn hair and brilliant blue eyes. Her clear skin was still lightly tanned from summer vacation. She'd be even prettier, Maggie thought, if she'd smile once in a while. Maggie couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Kaia smile. Or joke, or tease. It seemed, in one instant, she'd gone from a happy, young girl to a sulking teenager. B
ut Maggie couldn't complain. Despite Kaia's constant irritation with her, she was a good student, had nice friends, and wasn't a troublemaker. Maggie knew she was fortunate for that. Both her children had turned out to be decent people, if not a little confused about life. But who wasn't confused at their ages? Fourteen and nineteen weren't easy. Maggie tried to understand and give them room to figure things out, but sometimes, it was so difficult. Kyle had gone from a high school honor graduate to a flunking college student, and he didn't seem to care one bit. All he seemed to enjoy was his part-time job at the local motorcycle shop. Seven-fifty an hour seemed fine to him. He had no financial obligations other than keeping gas in his pickup and going out with friends. Maggie sometimes wondered how he thought he'd make it on his own without a decent education, but she forced herself not to obsess over it. She had so many other things she could chose to worry about.
The traffic was heavy despite the fact that Woodroe was a small, northern Minnesota town of about twenty thousand people. Maggie couldn't help but sigh again as she followed the parade of parents in minivans and SUVs in a rush to drop their children off at school. It was only the third week of school, and she was already tired of the morning traffic in and out of the much-too-small middle school parking lot. There was no doubt at all in Maggie's mind, parents in minivans and SUVs were the worst drivers on the planet. She found herself in near-accidents at least three times daily upon entering or driving through the parking lot. Everyone had somewhere better to be and needed to get there faster than the next person. It was the same old story, year after year.
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