Faltering

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Faltering Page 21

by Jennifer Lyndon


  I cleaned house the next morning and baked some cookies, from one of Mamma’s recipes, of course. I new Mamma’s were better, but Lara would lie and say mine were. Next I dressed carefully. Preparing for my new life, I wore a dress Lara had bought me on her last visit, a pale lavender dress made of cashmere. It was slightly simpler than the dresses Lara wore, cleaner lines, but it was a start. I left my hair down long and actually wore some jewelry for a change, the watch Lara had given me, a butterfly broche she gave me when I graduated from nursing school all those years ago, and the amethyst ring Mamma had always worn. I was pleased with the effect.

  I had a repeat of the anxiety as I waited at the gate for Lara to disembark with Josie. I kept scanning the passengers. My eyes went over the crowd two or three times as the last few people trickled out of the plane. Then Josie caught my eye. I ran my gaze up her arm to see whose hand she was holding. My heart nearly stopped as I realized it was Lara. She looked strange, too young, hardly more than a skinny teenager, grinning at me. She made her way over to me as I tried to adjust to what I was seeing. I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around Josie. She hugged me back, and I picked her up.

  “Lara?” I said, nervously studying the woman I loved. “What have you done to your hair?” She stepped back and smiled, and then ran her hands back and forth across her nearly shaved head.

  “I went into a barber shop and asked for a boy’s crew cut. The barber resisted at first, but I was able to convince him.” I wanted to cry at the loss of her beautiful hair. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll grow it back if you want.”

  “But why did you do it at all?” I asked, overwhelmed by this new image of her.

  “I had to, Sylvie.”

  “I loved your hair. What were you thinking?”

  “It’s all right if you don’t like it,” she assured me. “You haven’t commented on my clothes yet, though.” Reluctantly, I allowed my eyes to drift from her shorn hair down to the bright sun at her throat, the necklace I’d given her all those Christmases ago, and down over the loose oxford shirt and the men’s Levis jeans and boots she was wearing. “What do you think?”

  “Lara, baby, I adore you.” She smiled. “I’m having trouble recognizing you though.”

  “You’ll get used to it, my love.” She took my hand and stepped forward to kiss me lightly on the lips. “Tell me though, do I look like a tourist?” she asked. I shook my head. “A conservative politician’s wife?” I acknowledged that she did not. “A lesbian?” I stared at her, refusing to respond, trying my best for a neutral expression. Finally, I nodded. “Don’t worry, Sylvie.” She squeezed my fingers and smiled. “That’s what I wanted, the reason I cut my hair off, to face what I’ve always feared. If I’m going to live in an honest way I had to do it. I had to acknowledge who I am and allow the world to see me. I truly am one of those women, a lesbian, just like you are. I want it to be obvious to anyone who looks at me.” I nodded, speechless and more than mildly intimidated. “I left David about a week ago. I’m all yours now, honey. And Josephine and I, as of today, officially live in San Francisco, with you if you’ll have us.”

  “But what about Baton Rouge?” I said stupidly. “I just agreed to move there.” She shook her head.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Sylvie. I’d never let you do something you were so opposed to.” She laughed.

  “You’ve been pressuring me to move back down there for years,” I pointed out. Lara released my hand and wrapped her arm across my shoulders, as if aware I’d grown dizzy. She reached her other hand out to pat Josie on the back of the head before moving us forward, away from the tangle of people at the gate and toward baggage claim.

  “That wasn’t fair of me,” was her reply. She smiled.

  “What about David? You said leaving him right now would ruin his political chances.” She shrugged with an apparent lack of concern.

  “It probably will. I really don’t think he’d make a good congressman anyway, though. He’s not very trustworthy, you see.” I was confused. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” she offered, sweetly. “I’ll have to borrow that dress sometime.” I nodded. “Tell me, Sylvie, are you happy? Is this what you wanted?” I finally felt the tension I’d been carrying since my mamma’s funeral ease from my shoulders.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Being with you, and Josie, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” She grinned and gestured for me to continue. I hadn’t yet said what she wanted to hear. “And yes, Lara, I’m ecstatically happy.”

  “I love you, Sylvie.”

  Epilogue

  July 2015

  Our flight to Chicago had been delayed a couple of hours, so we were still in the air, though we should have landed already. And so we were patiently passing the time, waiting for them to land, and release us back into the world. We were headed for the Drake that evening, two, nearly, old ladies, bound for our wedding festivities over the coming week, in the first home we’d known together. I gazed at Lara in the seat beside me. She was composed as ever, her long silver hair impeccably styled in her usual French twist, her lipstick exact. I studied her profile, glimpsing that spirited young woman I’d fallen in love with, still present in the nervousness of her manner. Noticing my attention, she lowered her gaze, and then turned slightly in her seat to meet my stare with unflinching hazel eyes.

  “You’re as beautiful as the first time you kissed me,” I said quietly. My comment earned me a gentle smile, and a squeeze of my hand.

  “I can’t believe we’re back here, after all of this time. I arranged a car to collect us from the airport, and deliver us to The Drake,” she continued. I nodded. Lara always handled the comfort details. Those things always mattered more to her than they did to me. “Are you certain you still want to do this?” she asked.

  “Lara, I’ve been waiting my entire life to do this. I’ve wanted to marry you since before it was legal. I’d have gone to Canada to marry you, if you would only have agreed to it.”

  “Well, it seemed pointless at the time,” she replied, almost apologetically. “It still does, to be honest. We’ve been committed to one another since we were girls. Why does it matter whether the state sanctions us?” she asked, still protesting slightly, though I knew her well enough to know she was truly excited to be marrying me. “Anyway, when does Josephine arrive?” she asked, changing the subject. “Have you arranged a car for her, or should I do it.”

  “Josie will handle that herself,” I said, smiling at Lara. “She’ll probably Uber,” I added.

  “Yes, I’m sure you’re right,” Lara said, sounding almost distracted. Her grip of my hand tightened. “Has she told you if she’s bringing anyone?” Lara asked, hope in her tone.

  “She’s not,” I replied. “She’s still not over Sid,” I explained.

  “Well, good riddance to that one,” Lara said under her breath. “I never understood the attraction there.”

  “Well, Josie did,” I said, reminding Lara to be nice about our daughter’s exes, even though she’d never liked any of them.

  “Are you certain about the dresses?” Lara asked, her voice betraying her anxiety over the decision. “We’re not exactly virginal at this point,” she observed. “Wouldn’t suits be a more appropriate choice?”

  “Relax,” I said, laughing at her, finally. “You’ve second guessed every aspect of this event a million times; the ceremony, the venue, guest list, honeymoon, everything. I’m beginning to think maybe you don’t want to marry me,” I said, teasing her.

  “Sylvie, baby, don’t ever think that,” she replied quickly, sounding more concerned than I expected. “I want nothing more,” she said. “It’s just, I never thought it would actually happen. When you asked me, I thought you were joking.”

  “Well, it is going to happen,” I replied. Lara nodded, a pensive expression on her beautiful face.

  “You’re making an honest woman of me,” she said quietly. “Have you ever thought we should be honest about everything?” she asked. I waited in silence
a moment, considering her question, and how difficult it must have been for her to ask it.

  “I assume you’re referring to Josie,” I replied, keeping my tone casual. Lara nodded stiffly.

  “Have you ever wanted to tell Josephine the truth?” Lara asked, being braver than I expected. The directness of the question almost startled me, not because I didn’t know we’d both considered it constantly over the years, but because Lara had finally had the courage to ask me. I turned my gaze back to her, waiting. “Maybe she deserves to know,” Lara added. I nodded, not ready to really respond yet. “She has no idea of her connection to this city. She doesn’t know she was conceived here,” Lara observed. “Why haven’t we told her?” Lara appeared almost frightened that she had finally asked me that question. Still, I waited to respond, as I collected my thoughts.

  “There have been many times I’ve wanted to tell her,” I said honestly. “But something always held me back,” I replied.

  “You were concerned for my feelings,” Lara observed. I nodded.

  “Yes, that’s part of it. It’s not only that, though. Truly, I think we made the right choice, all those years ago” I explained. “She was a happy child. How many parents can say that about their children?” I asked, as dull, familiar pain stretched through my chest. “Our relationship with her is solid, and always has been. She’s proud of who she is, her heritage. It would be unfair at this point to tell her it’s all a lie.” Lara nodded, watching me.

  “You really don’t think we should tell her?” Lara asked. “I’ve always believed you regretted…”

  “I regret nothing,” I said, quietly interrupting her. Lara nodded, not appearing completely convinced, but trying for my sake. She tightened her grip of my hand and leaned her head down onto my shoulder.

  “All right,” Lara said. “Then I feel the same.” My hand moved of it’s own volition to her cheek, and she shifted to place a kiss on my palm. “You know, without you, my life would have been misery,” she said quietly. I smiled. “I’d do anything for you. I love you completely, Sylvie.”

  “I know,” I replied, smiling. “I feel the same.”

 

 

 


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