I waited around for a while after they disappeared into the guest bedroom, hoping Lara would reemerge. She didn’t. Finally, I turned off the lights and headed back to my room, but I couldn’t manage to sleep. About an hour later, Lara quietly opened my bedroom door. She crept into my room very softly, and lay down on the bed beside me. She was being careful not to wake me. I reached my hand out to catch hers, to let her know I was awake, and she scooted close to me.
“Is this all right?” she asked softly. “Can we be together while I’m here?” I answered by kissing her, the first real kiss we’d shared since her arrival. She wrapped her arms around me. As tired as she was, she slept very little that first night.
***
I took Lara to a movie at Castro Theatre. After the movie I suggested a walk, mentioning a few nearby restaurants we could try out. I had not warned her about the type of neighborhood we were in, so I watched with amusement as she slowly acclimated to the openly gay atmosphere around us. She seemed hardly to notice anything was amiss at first, until she came to a sudden halt, starring at a couple of teenaged boys making out in front of a tattoo parlor. I took her hand and encouraged her forward. Her reaction was attracting far more attention than those amorous boys.
“What’s going on?” she asked quietly as she started to notice more and more men holding hands, and showing affection to one another. I tightened my grip on her hand.
“Isn’t it great?” I asked, smiling at her.
“But they’re all…” She looked confused.
“Yeah.” I realized she was slightly shocked. “They’re all gay, Lara.” She was uncharacteristically tense. “Let’s eat here,” I said, indicating The Cove on Castro Café. She nodded and allowed me to lead her inside. The scene was pretty tame, but still Lara was looking around, noticing the many same sex male groups and couples, and even a few women.
“Sylvie, look, over there,” she indicated with her line of vision and I turned to see two women, both blond, obviously lesbians, sitting close to one another. One wore her hair cropped short. The other had a sort of mullet. The one with the mullet leaned her head on the other’s shoulder. “I think I’m overdressed,” she joked, finally starting to relax. I looked around and realized she stood out. “I look like a tourist, don’t I?” I nodded. “Maybe we should go shopping tomorrow,” she said casually, as she picked up the menu.
“Or you could borrow something of mine,” I offered. She shrugged.
“I like this place, baby. Do you come here often?” I shook my head.
“I’ve only been here a few times. The burger is good, I mean, if you’re asking for a suggestion,” I replied. She grinned.
We spent the evening popping in and out of bars. Lara was looking for women. She was certain there would be a bar with all the women in it if we kept looking, so we made a full tour of the district. She was getting tipsy, and my feet were beginning to hurt when we headed back to my little townhouse. Lara held me hand tightly. When we walked past the tattoo parlor the boys had been making out in front of earlier Lara led me over to the window.
“Do you want a tattoo, Sylvie?” she asked, teasing. “Maybe one of those big roses on your upper arm.” She pointed at the artwork in the window.
“Not a good look for me,” I demurred. She pushed me back against the window and kissed me, aggressively. I pushed her back, surprised. “What are you doing?”
“I didn’t think you’d mind,” she said quietly.
“I don’t, but it’s just not like you,” I answered.
“I don’t feel like me tonight,” she said airily. “I feel happy, and free. And none of these people care who I am or what we do together.”
“No, they don’t, Lara,” I agreed. She grinned and took my hand again.
“Let’s go home. I want to get those clothes off of you,” she whispered, teasing me.
-CH 10-
July 1981
The heat was excruciating, and sweat was streaming down my sides under my dark suit. Though my hair was up in a twist, a few strands had broken loose to stick to the sweat on my face. I stared at the casket, blocking out the words of the priest. I’d already endured a two-hour mass for my mother. The graveside service was just about to wrap up. A fly buzzed and dove around me, landing on my shoulder first, then my hand. I was tempted to swat it, but couldn’t muster the energy required for the movement. A gorgeous breeze, just cool enough to offer a tiny breath of relief, wafted through the crowd of mourners. With that little boost to my spirit, I glanced around me, at the giant live oaks dripping with Spanish moss. It was a nice, quiet spot, I told myself. Mamma had chosen it herself, and I believed she would rest well in such a place. My eyes moved uneasily through the throng of funeral attendees searching for one face in particular. I spotted Lara at the back of a little group, Josie quietly standing at her left side, grasping her hand. Mrs. Elgin stood to Lara’s right, staring at the casket that held Mamma. I wondered how much Josie grasped, and whether she knew her Hattie was truly gone. Lara met my gaze with eyes that were red from crying. She held a handkerchief gripped in her hand, the picture of stoic desolation. I turned my attention away from them as the priest’s voice tapered away.
The casket lowered into the cement casing. I knew I was expected to drop a handful of dirt on Mamma but to my very core I loathed the idea. I stared at the hole in the ground, willing myself to move. Tension mounted as eyes focused on me, waiting. Finally, I rose and seized a clump of red clay dirt from the mound next to her grave. I steadied myself and stepped forward, extended my hand and mentally pried my fingers open. The dirt fell heavily, making a soft thud on the top of her casket when it struck. I turned around and walked away as her friends stepped forward to offer condolences. I didn’t want their sympathy. I wanted to disappear.
I headed back to Mamma’s house, where a collection of ladies was already gathered inside. They had provided me with enough food to feed the entire neighborhood. Word must have gone out, because soon her tiny house was packed with people, eating and talking about Mamma. Everyone seemed to have a story to tell about her, and they all wanted to share with me. Apparently Mamma had been kind to a lot of people over the years. I realized as I listened, that I had barely known the woman they called Hattie. The more she was described to me, the further out of focus she became.
Lara stopped by late, with Josie, just to pay her respects she said. Before I could do much beyond greeting her, I was drawn aside by one of Mamma’s close friends, Mrs. Irma Washington. Irma was crying, so I wrapped an arm across her shoulders and listened to her talk about going with my mamma to bingo every week and how they liked to sit together on the front porch in the evenings. Before I could make my way back to Lara, she was gone. Emotionally drained, I headed back into Mamma’s room and waited, until the house emptied out, about an hour later.
Grateful for the silence, I wandered through my childhood home, looking at her collection of pictures as if for the first time. Mostly they were of me, some of her sisters, one was of her mother. I’d seen none of her family that day. As I was musing over that bitter fact, I noticed a picture of Josie, framed and on her coffee table. In the corner of the frame a picture of me was tucked. I was around the same age as Josie. I picked up the pictures to examine them more closely. The clothes were different, but her hair was braided as mine had been, and we wore identical expressions. An uneasy feeling came over me as I continued my perusal.
On the icebox a magnet held artwork by Josie, crayon on construction paper. It was a picture of two women, one blond with Mamma written under it, and one dark-haired with my name, spelled Silvy. Between the two women, holding their hands was a dark-haired little girl with Josie written under her. Elongated boxes, approximations of buildings, surrounded the little trio. Obviously, it was a picture of her visit to San Francisco. I took the drawing off of the icebox and went back into the sitting room.
I sat in Mamma’s chair, as it gradually grew dark outside, and as a result, inside the little house too. I
couldn’t move to put the lights on, so I just sat there and stared at Josie’s drawing as the dimming light slowly obscured it. The wetness dripped from my jaw to my neck before I realized I was crying. I put my hands over my face as the first sobs wracked through my body. It had been a long time since I cried, so long in fact that I’d grown unaccustomed to the feeling, the actual physical pain of crying. My nose burned, my eyes stung, and my head felt about to explode. My stomach seemed to tighten to the point of splitting open as I struggled to fill my lungs.
I was realizing all of this as well as the depth of my loss when I heard the screen door being drawn back, followed by a light tapping at the front door. I sat still, collecting myself, and hoping whoever was at the door would go away. When the tapping repeated a little more firmly, I wiped my face with the back of my hand and got up to answer the door. I was relieved to see Lara.
“Sylvie, baby, you’re crying,” she said gently as she stepped through the doorway without being invited. She wrapped her arms tightly around me.
“Not anymore,” I replied into her hair.
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she said, her tone soothing. I tightened my arms around her. The bitter numbness that had been overwhelming me since I found out Mamma was dead, eased slightly in Lara’s arms. “I had no idea she was sick,” Lara whispered. “I would have taken her to the doctor myself. You know I would have.” She eased back from me to see my eyes. I nodded. “I had lunch with her only last week. She was a little tired, but not sick. This flu hit her fast.”
“She hated going to the doctor, ever since that enormous hospital bill a few years ago,” I explained. Lara nodded. “Where’s Josie?” I asked.
“With Mother.”
“So you’re here to offer support,” I said evenly. She nodded, allowing her hands to slide down my arms to collect mine in a gentle grip.
“Well, that, of course, and I wanted to explain about Hattie’s finances.”
“What finances? All she had was this house. I mailed her a check on the first of every month, but she never cashed a single one.” Lara shook her head.
“Technically, Sylvie, your mother was a very wealthy woman.” Continuing to hold my hands, Lara led me over to the sofa. “Sit down.”
“Technically?” Lara nodded.
“The reason she didn’t cash your checks is probably because she didn’t need the money.” I nodded, a lump rising in my throat. “I’ve been sheltering assets and cash with your mother since right before I married David. She took a monthly income for helping me out with that, and for keeping Josie.”
“What?”
“She’s the only person I trusted, besides you of course, and I knew you would say no. Hattie didn’t mind the arrangement. She was helping me, and I was helping her. She felt okay about it.”
“Lara.”
“Those assets will go to you, of course. You’re her only heir.”
“Why?”
“David spends money like it’s water. I think one reason he married me was because he believed me to be quite wealthy. I didn’t want him spending any more of my money than absolutely necessary. I’d be financing his campaign if he knew I had any money left.” I nodded. “I didn’t inherit much from Joe. Josephine has the house, and Joe’s trust. Most of the assets from that family will eventually be hers. After the year you and I spent running through what remained of my own money, all I had left was a small insurance policy Joe had bought.”
“Okay.”
“Well, I invested that money. I didn’t know what I was doing back then, but I remembered a stockbroker I talked to in Berghoff’s Restaurant in Chicago. He swore that gold was going up, so I gambled and put it all there. Apparently, he was right. Gold was low when I bought and when it was quite a bit higher I sold. I was lucky. Around that time some family friends in Shreveport, Marge Wyatt and her husband, were looking for investors for his oil company. Through Hattie, I bought a good chunk of the company, twenty-three percent. That investment has turned out really well. The company went public last year and the stock value has gone through the roof.” She smiled. “I’m the proxy for the purpose of board meetings, but I can’t touch the money. Everything’s in Hattie’s name.”
“What about taxes and…”
“Don’t worry about all of that,” she interrupted. “We bought an insurance policy on Hattie to cover the taxes.”
“You bought life insurance on Mamma?”
“It was just a precaution, baby. My lawyer insisted on it when we set everything up.”
“Lara, I don’t like all this.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, baby. Really, I’m glad you’ll be the one to watch over it now. I just wanted to tell you about it, before my attorney, I mean Hattie’s attorney, contacts you.”
“Why don’t we put it in Josie’s name then?” Lara shook her head.
“It’s not that simple. Hattie didn’t leave a will. Like it or not, twenty-three percent of that company is yours now.”
“How could your lawyer have overlooked having Mamma sign a will? He sounds really conscientious.”
“She didn’t overlook anything. She drew up a will. I just never brought Hattie in to her office to sign it. I was planning to. It was right before my wedding, after you and I were together again. I was really distracted around that time.” She diverted her gaze. “And then it just slipped my mind.” I didn’t believe her. Lara had finally managed to buy me, and she used my mamma to do it.
“Lara, why are you complicating everything?”
“Actually, everything’s far simpler now. I’ve made you a wealthy woman. Now we can finally be together. You always say you have to work, that you have to earn a living. Well, you don’t anymore. You’re rich, honey, so come and be with me. Make us both happy. I need you, and so does your daughter.”
“I don’t belong down here,” I said softly.
“You belong with me, Sylvie. You’re mine. And I want you down here with me.”
“Are you offering to leave him?” I asked. She shook her head. “Then Lara, whether or not I belong to you, you’re not mine.”
“I can’t leave him. He’s about to announce his bid for U. S. Congress.” I nodded. “But I want you to come to Baton Rouge and be with me anyway. If he wins, and I think he will, he’ll be in Washington D.C. most of the time. It would just be the two of us, and Josie. You can afford a house in my neighborhood now, and you’ll see Josie everyday.” I shook my head. “Sylvie, be patient with me. I know you’re strong, but you have to give in to me this one time, for all three of us. I promise, we’ll be a family if you’ll compromise with me. Just stop fighting this.”
“The hospital offered to send me to school, to be a nurse anesthetist,” I offered lamely. “The pay would have been twice what I was making for about half the hours.” Lara smiled.
“It would have been?” she asked, her gaze softening. I nodded.
“I can’t hold out any longer. I loathe the idea of coming back down here to live, more than almost anything. I swore to myself I’d never do it. I can’t stand being away from you and Josie any more.” Her eyes started getting red as she wrapped her arms around me again. “You win, Lara. I’m yours, even though you’re not mine.”
“You’re serious,” she whispered next to my ear. “You’re really giving in. After all this time, you’re finally coming to me. I can’t believe it.”
“Neither can I,” I agreed. She pressed her lips to mine quickly, to shut me up.
***
I returned to San Francisco the next week, a little early. I wasn’t expected back at work for a few more days, but after Lara headed back to Baton Rouge, to find a house for me, I saw nothing to keep me in Natchitoches. I was tired and emotionally confused. I really didn’t know how or what I felt. I’d lost Mamma, but was finally going to have Josie, and Lara, sort of. Lara was, after all, still married to someone else. Also, I loved my city, and my job, and I knew soon I’d be forced to leave both behind. Going back to Louisiana would me
an admitting defeat. I swore never to return to the origin of my discontent, but Louisiana held hostage a piece of my soul. I needed Lara and Josie, and I was too tired after losing Mamma to struggle against that need anymore.
For the remainder of the week I dreaded going back to work. I would tender my resignation, and put my home up for sale, and probably be out of San Francisco within a matter of weeks. I looked around my townhouse, regretting the lack of time I’d spent within those walls. Mostly I just slept there. Still, it was my home, and I loved it.
I was having maudlin thoughts about the upcoming loss of my identity when my phone rang. I answered it on the third ring.
“Sylvie, honey, I was starting to think you were out,” Lara said breathily.
“No. I’m here. Just trying to do some planning.”
“Could you use some help?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’ve booked a flight. Josephine and I will arrive tomorrow.”
“I have work tomorrow.”
“Ask for another day.”
“Lara, I’m about to quit.”
“Exactly. That’s why you should take another day. Put it off. Come and pick me up at the airport instead, all right?” I nodded without thinking.
“All right, I guess.” I smiled as a level of relief washed over me. Dismantling my life could wait a few more days. “I’m really happy you’re coming.” It would be easier to give up my life and friends with Lara’s presence next to me, reminding me what I was doing it for.
“Okay, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow then. My flight arrives at four,” she hung up before I could respond.
I had trouble sleeping that night as I imagined what I was getting myself into. Lara would likely never leave her husband, but at least she promised to try. She’d never done that before. I would be close to Josie too. I realized while at Mamma’s house, how important Hattie was in the child’s life. There had been crafts Josie had made for her in Sunday school, and pictures of them together. Mamma had been a part of her life because she lived near them, while I was a virtual stranger to my own child.
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