“‘You get outta that bed right now!’ she repeated.
“‘Give me one good reason why I should go,’he said.
“‘I’ll do better than that, I’ll give you two,’ she answered. ‘Number one, you’re forty-two years old ... and two, you’re the pastor!’”
The joke filled the little room with laughter. The pastor, flushed with amusement, nodded to Kasey in approval. Sharing the humor that had so tickled her mother was a much-needed connection with her soul. But it was a mixed blessing that left her sad. She missed how her mother would try unsuccessfully to repress her own laughter, her lips pursed tightly together, unable to finish the joke. Her family had always laughed as hard at her as they had at the punch line when she finally managed to say it. She wished she could hear her mother’s voice once again. She closed her eyes just for a moment, and, magically, the memory of her mother’s laughter pushed past the sadness and lifted up her heart.
“That’s really cute. Do you think she’ll mind if I use that at next Sunday’s service?”
“I’m sure she’d be honored that you liked it that well.”
She looked at Connie, hands joined with her sister and her unconscious mother, glimmers of restrained hope reflecting in her eyes, and realized that the emotional connection with this family, with Connie, was unavoidable. Her own history locked her into their fears and their hopes. At this point it would be difficult, if possible at all, to separate herself from the inevitable ebb and flow of emotion yet to come. There was really only one thing she could do now. She would insulate herself as well as she could and be there. Walking away was no longer an option.
Eleven
The next two-and-a-half weeks proved to be the most difficult of Connie’s thirty years. Things that had held no previous relevance in her life had taken on paramount importance. Things like low blood pressure; how low was dangerous? And urine output; too little could mean the kidneys shutting down, the beginning of the end. Signs she watched closely now, every day and every night. Her family offered all the help they could, but because she was the only single one, Connie, along with her father, spent the most hours there. Her brother had returned to his family eight hours away and called every night. He’d be back on the plane in a minute if his mother’s condition worsened. Connie’s sister and husband, two hours away, had returned to a seminormal schedule and visited only on the weekends. Kasey came up to the room every evening, but Connie made her keep as normal a routine as she could. Most visits now resulted in Kasey talking her into a walk, or eating with her. Strategy quite obvious and appreciated.
After the first week, Connie too had gone back to work. She alternated nights with her father, sleeping at the hospital. Yet she was still spending a lot of stressful hours in that room. Every day she told her mother how work had been, how her brother’s and sister’s families were, and read her everything she could get her hands on. But now, toward the end of the third week, she could feel the stress beginning to take its toll. She was rundown and so very tired. It was getting more and more difficult to look good for work and concentrate on her job.
Reaching for a glass of water in the early morning light, Connie looked across at her mother as she always did. But this time, something startled her. Her mother’s eyes were open. Connie jumped up, and in her halffrightened, half-excited state checked her mother’s breathing. Her chest rose slowly, steadily. “Mom, Mom, it’s Connie. Oh, Mom,” she said, kissing her mother’s face and hugging her. When she realized there was no response, she looked again into her mother’s eyes. Eyes, usually so quick and sure, now held the innocence of a frightened child. Tears came to Connie’s eyes. She pressed the nurse’s button.
Almost immediately, the daytime nurse hustled into the room. “Her eyes are open, but she doesn’t answer me,” Connie reported nervously.
A smile appeared on Sherry’s face. She leaned down close. “Mrs. Bradford. There you are. We’ve been waiting for you. How are you doing?” Mrs. Bradford’s eyes focused slowly on Sherry’s face. Her lips moved slowly, but there was no sound. Sherry put her ear close to her mouth and listened intently. “An angel? Honey, did you see an angel while you were asleep?” She listened again. “She sang to you?”
Connie grabbed Sherry’s arm, terrified now that her mother’s mind had been affected. “Is that the drugs?” She hoped to God that it was.
“No, I don’t think so.” Her tone was reassuring, although the message still frightened Connie. Sherry looked again at Mrs. Bradford. “It wasn’t an angel you heard. It was your friend, Kasey. Do you remember her singing every day? You heard her, didn’t you?” A faint smile formed slowly on Mrs. Bradford’s lips.
“Kasey sang to her?”
“Every morning after you left for work. If your Dad was here, she’d send him down for breakfast.”
Connie moved closer to her mother. The deep brown innocence gradually shifted to meet Connie’s thankful eyes. Suddenly her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, and tears welled in her mother’s eyes. She recognized Connie and weakly tried to lift her arms. “I love you, Mom,” Connie cried, kissing tears from her mother’s face. “I love you.”
Sherry released the blood pressure cuff. “Her blood pressure’s coming up. That’s a good sign. Now, she may go in and out some, but keep talking to her. Just don’t ask her a lot of questions. She can’t really answer you yet. I’m going to notify the doctor and give your Dad a call. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
The relief was overwhelming. Connie took a deep, exceptionally light breath. She smiled through tear-blurred eyes while droplets dripped from the bridge of her nose. She stroked her mother’s head. Nothing on earth could have made her feel any better at that moment than looking into her mother’s beautiful eyes.
Close to her ear, her cheek pressed against her mother’s soft skin, she whispered, “God knew how much we would miss you.”
She settled on the edge of the bed and stroked her mother’s forehead. The thought of Kasey sitting here, singing to her unconscious mother, was the most endearing thing she could imagine. In all her analysis of friendship, what it should be and how it traditionally fell short, she had never imagined anything so selfless. Even her most idealistic hopes had never envisioned what Kasey Hollander gave so willingly.
As if on cue, the low tones of Kasey’s voice carried down the hallway. “Mom,” Connie said softly. “Your angel’s here. Kasey’s here.” The chocolate brown eyes slowly scanned the room.
As soon as she walked through the door, Kasey was greeted in a firm embrace. “Somebody wants to see you.”
“So I’ve heard,” she smiled. “Mrs. Bradford,” she said with a careful hug. “I’m Kasey.”
Her lips formed the words slowly, without a sound. “I know.”
“She thought you were an angel singing to her,” Connie explained. “And I believe she’s right.”
Kasey sat on the edge of the bed, taking Mrs. Bradford’s hand in hers. “I’ve never been mistaken for an angel before. I hope you still think so, now that you’re awake. How about a song before I go to work? See if you remember this one.” With a voice as soothing as a soft summer breeze, she sang the words to one of Mrs. Bradford’s favorite songs, “His Eye Is on the Sparrow.” The sounds floated around them on the freshness Kasey had brought to the room.
Watching her hold her mother’s hand and sing so sweetly filled Connie with a joy she never knew existed. She realized, in that moment, how very much she loved this woman.
Kasey stood in the doorway, about to leave. “What are you doing tonight?” Connie asked.
“Nothing special. Why?”
“I could use a real dinner. I don’t think I could eat one more hospital meal. Plus, I’d like to treat you, to at least start to thank you for all you’ve done.” As she spoke, Connie warmly clutched Kasey’s hand, a gesture that was becoming very comfortable.
“You don’t have to do that. I would love to have dinner with you, though. What time are you picking m
e up?”
“Six-thirty. And wear your new dress.”
Twelve
“I apologize for making an absolute pig out of myself,” Connie said, finishing her last bite of dessert. “Everything tasted wonderful.”
Kasey laughed gently at her friend. “You should enjoy it. It’s a celebration dinner for your mother’s recovery. I know how hard this has been on you. I lost my mom two years ago. I would have given anything to celebrate her recovery.”
“Kasey,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? I can’t imagine how hard this must have been for you.”
“You had enough to deal with. You certainly didn’t need another negative thought.”
She gazed in wonder at the woman across from her. What must she have been feeling? Every day, all over again. The fear, the sadness. Enduring emotional discomfort I myself had only touched upon by comparison. For me.
“Listen, you know what you should do?” Kasey pulled out a piece of paper and began writing directions. “I’ll give you my key, and you spend the weekend at my cabin. You could see your mom Friday before you leave and again Sunday night when you get back. You could even call and check on her Saturday. It’s so peaceful and quiet there. You could get some much needed rest without one bit of stress.” Looking up from her writing, she met Connie’s questioning eyes.
“You can’t come with me?”
“You’re welcome to take anyone you’d like, or maybe you’d enjoy some time alone,” Kasey said in a feeble attempt to avoid the real issue.
“Kasey, there’s no one else I’d want to take, and I’m not spending a weekend at your cabin alone. That’s ridiculous.”
“Let’s talk about it in the car,” Kasey said, trying to take the check from Connie. Connie won the tussle with the bill held tightly in her hand. They left the restaurant in silence.
Once inside the car, Connie confronted her. “All right, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“Yes, but let’s wait ’til we get to my house.” She remained in profile, avoiding Connie’s eyes.
Connie shook her head and drove to Kasey’s. Turning off the engine in the driveway, she turned to face Kasey and waited. This is a very stubborn woman, she thought, watching the beautiful profile.
Kasey finally turned and looked directly into Connie’s eyes, melting away all the frustration. “Connie, your friendship means a lot to me. You’ve made me start enjoying life again. Even Sharon couldn’t do that; she was too close to my situation. It made her almost too protective of me. Besides, Sharon doesn’t like doing a lot of the things I do.” She gave Connie not a moment to respond. This time, she was going to get it all out. Finally, it was going to be over. “You’ve been able to see through eyes that recognize only me, and you’ve given me exactly what I need. That’s why it’s been so difficult for me to tell you what I have to. I don’t want what I have to say to affect our friendship, and I know that there’s no guarantee that it won’t.”
She took a breath, and it was all Connie needed. “Don’t you know by now that you can tell me anything?”
“I hope so,” Kasey said with an anxious breath, “because I’m gay. I’m a lesbian.”
Connie never flinched, never moved her eyes from Kasey’s, despite the little shock she felt in the middle of her chest. “That’s it? That’s what you’ve worried about all this time?” With a smile that seemed to envelop her entire being, Connie watched Kasey nod. “You could have made life a whole lot simpler for me, you know. Or was it fun to watch me floundering in indecision?”
Kasey’s laugh released more tension than she had even known was there. She finally relaxed back into the seat. “Was I that confusing?”
“You’re a chameleon. I’d think I had you figured out and the next time I saw you, you’d blow my mind.”
“I’ve gone from an angel to a chameleon.” Her smile was freer and easier than it had been in a very long time. “I really blew your mind?”
“More than once. Ms. Socially Conscious Connie wasn’t as gaysavvy as she thought she was.” She noted Kasey’s amused grin. “A beautiful woman who wears linen suits and heels doesn’t wear a tool belt and climb a scaffold for a living. And no self-respecting dyke, if you’ll excuse my naiveté, would be caught dead for even ten minutes in—”
“Gold lamé.”
“Yes!”
“I knew that blew your mind,” she laughed. “I did it on purpose.”
“Is that what you were doing when you sang with Tom?”
“What, trying to blow your mind?” She took her eyes from Connie’s and shook her head. “No.”
In light of their honesty, there was no hesitation for Connie to reveal even that which she herself didn’t fully understand. “That was the strangest feeling I’ve ever had. The way you sang ... I thought you were in love with him.” Kasey’s eyes finally met hers again. “And I didn’t want you to be.”
“I do love him dearly. But, I’m not in love with him.”
“He’s gay, isn’t he?”
Kasey nodded, smiling, and noticed how cute Connie was when everything suddenly fell into place for her. The face of a little girl, filled with delight at having solved a tough math problem before anyone else could solve it—an analogy with no place in her own school days. For her, passing algebra had been a matter of laughing at her teacher’s jokes until he came to sit on the edge of her desk and walk her through the day’s problems.
“What’s your relationship with Sharon?” Connie asked, jumping at her chance to clear the rest of the doubts that taunted her.
“Exactly what I told you. We’ve been good friends for many years. I haven’t lied to you, Connie. I just haven’t always told you the whole truth.”
“You two have never been together?”
“No,” she laughed. “We’re polar opposites.”
“And the person who left you was another woman. You just let me assume it was a man, right?”
“I didn’t see any reason to correct you at the time.”
“I’ll bet I’m as relieved as you are that this is over.” She took Kasey’s hand again and held it warmly. “Thank you for trusting me with who you really are.”
Kasey dropped her head against the headrest and sighed at the ceiling. “All this time, relief was only a confession away.”
“Does this mean we’re going to the cabin this weekend?” Connie asked, more upbeat than she had sounded in weeks.
“We’re going to the cabin. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Kasey promised, putting her hand up in a quick wave as she left the car.
Thirteen
It had never occurred to her that a three-hour ride in an automobile might be anything more than tolerable. Yet, the past three hours had proved to be thoroughly enjoyable. Filled with song and conversation and laughter, the time became irrelevant. Connie was aware only of how free and wonderful she felt.
“Well, this is it,” Kasey said, stopping the car at the end of a long narrow drive that wound a full mile through the trees. In front of them stood a small, neat cottage nestled among the pines. A wellmanicured little yard led down to a freshly painted dock that stretched out over the water. The sunset on the far shore cast a pink and purple reflection across the still, glassy surface.
“Oh, Kasey. Let’s go down to the dock while it’s so pretty.”
They stood at the end of the dock, taking in nature’s own light show and watching the colors get even more vibrant. Then, before Connie had noticed how quiet it was, a series of honking noises grew gradually louder overhead.
“The geese are coming in for the night,” Kasey explained, as Connie searched the sky. Suddenly their traditional vee appeared from over the treetops behind them. Honking loudly, the geese swooped gracefully close to the water and glided effortlessly toward the south end of the lake. “There aren’t any houses on that end, so they’ve made it their year-round home. They mate for life. See the space in the vee on the right side? One of them died or was killed. The remaini
ng mate stays with the flock, but always flies next to an empty space. I felt awful the first time I noticed the space in our flock. C’mon, I have another place to show you before it gets too dark.”
Connie followed her along a wooded path beside the lake and up a steep bank. Stepping carefully and ducking branches, they made their way to the top of a hill overlooking the lake. From the little clearing at the edge, they could see the whole lake, its winding shoreline still draped in brilliant hue. “It’s gorgeous,” Connie said quietly.
They stood in silence, absorbing the beauty that surrounded them, enjoying the sights and sounds as Mother Nature began tucking away the day. “This is one of my favorite places.”
“It’s a very romantic place,” Connie said softly. “I’ll bet you’ve brought a few women up here.”
There was a polite hesitation and no eye contact. The questions were to be expected. “Only one,” she said, knowing she’d have to answer them sooner or later. “I really loved her.”
“What happened?”
Kasey continued to look out over the lake as she spoke.
“She was afraid of people knowing. She couldn’t live like that. It was easier to marry a man she worked with.”
Connie felt the weight of the silence but couldn’t find words capable of consoling the sadness she saw in Kasey’s eyes.
“We’d better start back,” Kasey said, turning away from the lake. “Even I don’t like going down this hill after dark.”
They began their descent in silence. Partway down, thick patches of brown pine needles and small, partially exposed roots made it slippery under foot. “How you doin’?” Kasey asked.
“Fine. I’m no—”
“Uh-huh, you told me. Now take my hand,” she directed. Just as Kasey reached out her hand, Connie’s lead foot slipped off the edge of a root. Connie grabbed Kasey’s hand to keep from falling.
“Okay?” Kasey asked with a smile.
Marianne K. Martin - Love in the Balance Page 6