by Ronica Black
“I’m obvious?”
“Yes.”
She looked panicked. “You think people know?”
Carla closed her eyes and tried like hell to control her rising frustration. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just meant you’re obvious to me.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping for some control, thinking about how she’d need to bring some Advil with her into that closet for a preemptive strike on an impending headache.
“So, who is she, Tonya? And how is it you need me to help?”
“I—she’s. She’s my massage therapist.”
“Oh, okay.”
Wow, that could be hot.
She imagined a beautiful woman knocking on her door at home, wanting to come inside to rub her down with hot oil. She palmed her forehead.
I’m delirious. I’m overly exhausted and I haven’t been laid in a very, very long time.
“I don’t know what to do,” Tonya said. “With Mitch and everything.”
Carla laughed, unable to hold it in, and clutched her T-shirt at her chest. All the feelings of betrayal she’d endured when she’d learned of her ex, Megan’s affair, came marching back in.
“You’re cheating on a guy who is like family to me and you think you’re gay and you want me to tell you what to do?”
“Well, I—I was hoping you would know what to do.”
“Oh, good God.”
“If you don’t want to, then say so. You don’t have to be mean about it.”
“Mean? Tonya, last time I was home, you and Mitch were talking marriage. And now you’re coming to me, someone you hardly know, telling me you’re sleeping with a woman and doing so behind Mitch’s back and somehow, you’re expecting me to tell you what to do? Do you know how crazy that is?”
Tonya started to walk away. “Just forget it.”
Ah, fuck. Just fuck. Fuck my life.
And fuck me because I can’t let her go like this.
“Wait,” Carla said. She had to at least try to understand where she was coming from. Even if it did strike a very sensitive nerve in her. Even if Tonya was being ridiculous in expecting someone else to tell her what to do. “Come back.”
Tonya did but she crossed her arms over her chest, obviously pissed off.
“Is this your first time being with a woman?” Carla asked, having removed the attitude from her voice. Being with a woman for the first time was something she could understand. That much was common ground.
“Yes.”
Carla thought back to her first experience. She softened some more as she recalled how she’d felt. How unbelievably powerful and emotional it had been.
“Are you in love with her?”
She seemed shocked at the question and her tough girl gaze shifted.
“Tell the truth,” Carla encouraged. “Otherwise your asking me for advice will have been a big waste of time.”
She pushed out another big breath. “Yes.”
“Okay. So, you want to be with her? Like in a relationship type deal?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love Mitch?”
She reared back a little at that question, like she’d been verbally slapped.
“Yes.” She shook her head, her face twisted. She was obviously very distraught. “That’s why I’m so—”
“Are you in love with him?” Carla asked softly, trying to get her to focus.
She clamped her mouth. Bowed her head. “No, not anymore. Not for a while.”
“Is he in love with you?”
She kicked at the grass. “I think so. He says he loves me.”
“Then, it’s probably safe to say that what you’re doing to him is unfair, right? You’re not in love with him, but he doesn’t know that. All he knows is that he still comes home to the girlfriend he loves every night, thinking she loves him. So to him everything probably seems fine. But it’s not. Because not only are you deceiving him with your feelings, you’re doing so with your body. You’re having an affair.” She swallowed, the words feeling as if they’d come directly from her own broken heart.
“But she’s a woman not a man, so it’s not the same—”
“That doesn’t matter, Tonya. Even though I know that the feelings you’re having in being with a woman are very different from the ones you’ve had with a man, it’s still wrong. It’s still an affair. You’re cheating on him. End of story.”
“But it does matter. It is different. You just said so.”
“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, especially in coming to me, but I’m not going to sugarcoat what you’re doing just because you’re doing it with a woman.”
“I thought you would understand.”
“I do understand what it is you’re feeling for her, Tonya. I do. And there’s nothing wrong with those feelings. But you need to go explore that on your own and do right by Mitch. He’s human, you know. And he’s a good guy. He deserves someone who wants to be with him just as much as he wants to be with them. Don’t you agree?”
“That’s why this has been hard. I feel bad because I care about him and his feelings.”
“No, you feel bad because you’re cheating on him and you know it’s wrong. That’s why you feel bad. It has nothing to do with his feelings at all.” She had very little sympathy for her in this regard. She’d never understood why people didn’t suck it up and end their relationship before they got involved with someone else. To her, it was beyond selfish.
“I do care. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“If that were true, you would’ve done right by him and ended things the second your fantasies about doing anything with her crossed the line into intentions.”
She turned her back to her and Carla heard her crying.
“I’m not a bad person, Carla. I’m not.”
“No, you’re not, Tonya. I think you got very caught up in your newfound desire for a woman and made some bad choices. Choices that you’ve tried to justify and excuse. But that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. You’re human. Just like everyone else. Everybody fucks up. It’s how you handle things afterward that really shows who you are as a person.”
She cried some more, and Carla gently rested her hand on her shoulder.
“Your woman,” she said. “Does she love you as you do her?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m sure she probably wants to have you all to herself.”
“She does. She’s never been okay with me continuing my relationship with him.”
“Then I don’t think you need me, Tonya. I think you know what it is you need to do.”
“I have to face this, don’t I? And end things with him. Face-to-face. No matter how bad it may hurt.”
She turned and wiped her tears. “When I do it, you know, break up with him, should I tell him about her?”
“That’s a tough one, Tonya. And something only you can best decide. Because if you tell him, your sexuality will be exposed. That kind of news doesn’t stay secret for long around these parts.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“If you’re not ready for people to know, then you might just want to tell him it’s not working. That you feel differently than he does.”
“That makes sense.”
“But I do think he will eventually find out. You don’t exactly live in a metropolis where you and your new lover can just disappear into the crowd.”
Darlene called for them.
“You should probably go,” Carla said. “Suddenly having secret conversations with me, the well-known gay, won’t help your discretion any.” She smiled.
Tonya returned it. “Probably not.”
Carla patted her on the shoulder, hoping she did at least help her a little.
They all said their good-byes and Tonya whispered a thank you to her when they embraced. Carla gave her an extra squeeze and she and Erica watched them head back up the hill.
“What was that all about?”
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
>
“She looked upset.”
“She’ll be okay.” Carla glanced at the boys who were fishing again.
“You, on the other hand, don’t look like you will be.”
“I’m so drained I’m about to pass out. You might have to leave me here for the crawdads to consume.”
“Then for heaven’s sake, go to bed.”
“Where? Darlene’s hell-bent on cleaning the house. And people will still be coming in and out all day.” Most of the relatives from out of town had gone home, but there were still a dozen or so local folks who would continue to drop by for the next few days at least to ensure they were adequately supplied with food and support. That was just how things went when someone passed away.
“There must be somewhere you can go to get some rest. I’d suggest staying with us at Grandma’s, but we’ve got a full house now with my family and Daddy and Uncle Rick. But you know, Carla, there are a lot of people in this town who would gladly take you in. All you’d have to do is ask.”
“I know. But I’d hate to ask. And everyone around here are pretty much in the same situation we are. Small house, big family. I probably wouldn’t get any more peace there than I have been here.”
And peace and quiet is what I’m after.
Erica suddenly brightened. “What about Janice?”
Carla startled.
“She said she offered you a place to stay. She was worried about your back, I think. Because you told her you were sleeping on Maurine’s couch.”
Carla allowed Janice’s words to replay in her mind.
You’re always welcome.
But would she really be okay with her staying?
She was so brain dead she couldn’t continue to contemplate. She was so tired she even cast aside her long-held worry that Maurine might get upset if she left.
She looked back up the hill at the gravel driveway next to her grandmother’s house. Two more vehicles had pulled in since she’d last checked and others would soon arrive as well. They’d want her time and attention, especially since she lived so far away and didn’t get to see everyone very often.
She felt awful that she dreaded interacting with them when they only meant well.
Maybe once I get some rest, I’ll feel better. I’ll feel up to it.
“It would be good for you,” Erica said, touching her arm. “You should take her up on her offer.”
“I think I might just do that,” she said as yet another car pulled into the drive.
I think I might just do that.
Chapter Eight
The house was quiet, save for the soothing sound of Eartha Kitt singing about love. Janice hummed along as she sat painting in her study. She was perched on a stool at her drafting table which wasn’t inclined, like its design was intended for, but flat and covered in newspaper. Various bisque ceramic chess pieces stood like little soldiers, waiting for their turn.
She turned the piece she held in her fingers carefully and continued painting the details of the knight with her liner brush. So far, she was satisfied with the deep, royal color scheme she’d chosen for this particular medieval style set. The completed pieces had turned out great and the knight was looking fantastic. She couldn’t wait to work on the more detailed pieces like the king and queen. She could already imagine how magnificent they were all going to look once finished and glossed. Only, she wasn’t quite sure yet what she was going to do with this set when she did finish. Sometimes she sold them, sometimes she kept them. And a choice few, she gave away. But currently, she was running low on space and she was beginning to doubt if she could let this one go to a stranger.
“I may have to find someone special to give you to,” she said, adjusting the arm on the light for a better look. “But who?”
The doorbell rang and she stared through the doorway into the dim hall, unsure she’d actually heard it. She checked the clock next to her framed vintage Twilight Zone poster. It was ten fifteen, late into the evening. She had friends that sometimes came by unannounced for a bite to eat and a casual chat, but that was usually in the early afternoon or around supper time. A visit this late from one of them would be unusual.
It rang again and she put down the knight and brush and stood. She rubbed her hands on her old blue jeans as she headed for the door, trying to remove any wet paint from her fingertips. She hurried into the living room and slid the cover of the peephole aside. She went to her tiptoes to peer through.
“Oh, my Lord.” She stepped back and covered her mouth in complete astonishment. “Oh, my Lord.”
She held her throat, worried her voice would fail her. Then she took a deep breath and opened the door. Carla Sims stood just beyond the worn screen.
“Hey,” Carla said with a soft smile. Her face was partially shaded under the brim of what she recognized as an Arizona State ball cap. The shadow from the hat and the trickery from the porch light somehow sharpened her features. And those gorgeous features, along with the sinewy look to her bare arms in the white tank top she had on, made it difficult for Janice to process and make sense of her presence.
“Hey,” was the result of that difficulty.
“I tried to call,” she said. “A few times, actually.”
“Oh, I turn off my cell and my home phone when I—need to relax.”
Carla slid her hand in the pocket of her cutoff jeans and Janice tried very hard not to openly gawk at her, but her legs, like her arms, were long and sinewy, and she looked so southern tomboy in that outfit, right down to the white canvas sneakers she wore with no socks. And it became clear to Janice that she’d never see another woman who moved her more than Carla Sims did at that very moment. She knew there would never be anyone else who could totally and completely overwhelm and arouse her just by standing on her front porch on a hot summer night in cutoffs and a tank top. No one. And though she knew it, she had trouble allowing herself to accept it. That was something she was still struggling with. But even if she did accept all the thoughts and feelings her recent discoveries had evoked in her, she didn’t have a clue what she would do about it.
While Janice’s sluggish mind was suddenly reawakened and running wild, Carla seemed to be either sensing her inner chaos or she was experiencing some of her own, because she looked uneasy and began rubbing the back of her neck like she’d done under that tree at the funeral. Now, however, Janice worried that the gesture signified more than physical discomfort.
“Are you—”
“I thought—”
“Please, go ahead,” Janice said, feeling a fool.
“At the funeral—” Carla glanced away and laughed as if she, too, felt a fool. “God, I feel stupid.” She shifted her stance and Janice saw her luggage.
Oh, my Lord.
She pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the front porch.
“You came to stay,” she said, trying to sound calm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“I know,” Carla said, interrupting. “This is unexpected.” She reached for her luggage. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d still be okay with this. I apologize.” She tried to walk away, but Janice stopped her by covering one of her hands with her own.
“Where are you going?” She just got here. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t get her all excited like that and then just walk away. No. She wanted her there. With her. In her home.
“You weren’t expecting me, and I understand.”
“I don’t expect to see anyone on my porch at this hour.” She smiled, a little surprised at how quickly the usually confident Carla Sims had panicked and tried to leave. “You have to remember where you are. Showing up this late in this small town usually means someone’s coming with bad news or someone’s coming for…” she trailed off, embarrassed at what she was about to say.
“Coming for what?”
Janice laughed. “Nothing.”
Carla caught on. “Ohhh.”
She reddened and Janice just about died at seeing her react to the idea of her sho
wing up on her porch for a romantic encounter.
Could she possibly…feel like I do?
Ha. That had only and would only ever happen in my dreams.
“Come on, let’s get you inside.” She tried to take the bags from her, but Carla resisted.
“I got it.”
“I insist.”
“There’s no need. I got it.”
“But you’re my guest. I should take them for you.”
“I know that’s been engrained in you since conception, Janice, but really, I can carry my own bags.”
Janice put her hands on her hips. “I realize that, Carla. I’m just trying to be polite and show a little hospitality. I’m not trying to insult your ability to carry luggage. Now, let me help.”
“No, you’re too—”
“Too what?”
“Small.”
“Small?”
“These are heavy.”
“Oh, so it’s you who’s insulting me.”
Carla shook her head and laughed. “I’m just trying to be polite,” she said with a grin.
Janice yanked a bag from her and then stumbled a little from being off balance.
“See?” Carla said.
“Oh, hush. I just lost my balance. I’m not some delicate little lady.” She opened the screen door and motioned for Carla to enter before her. Janice followed her in and closed and locked the door behind them.
“You are little,” Carla said as she took in the living room.
“You’re already testing your welcome, Sims. You might want to stop while you’re still ahead.” She lugged her bag in farther and turned left toward the bedrooms.
“You’re shorter than me,” Carla continued, teasing her. “That’s all I meant.”
“I think a lot of women are shorter than you, Carla. We can’t all be Amazons.” She bypassed her study on the right, which was still illuminated and filled with the sounds of another love song, and entered the guest bedroom beside it. She flicked on the light and set Carla’s bag in front of the closet.
Carla followed, dropping her other bag to the floor.
“Amazon?” She raised an eyebrow. “I may be above average in height, but I am so not an Amazon. I can only wish I had strength like that.”