A Love that Leads to Home

by Ronica Black

  Nadine was quiet for a few seconds. Then she spoke softly. “I know you’re upset over the problems with the will, Carla, but, hon, you can’t run from it and think you’re going to somehow leave it behind. You’re going to have to take care of it. And trust me, it will be a lot easier doing that there than here. Trying to deal with family and tie up loose ends like that from a different state is difficult, I speak from experience. And, Carla, you know you need to work things out with your family. There. In person. You guys are so close and there is so much love between you, you don’t want to leave things like they are right now.”

  “You don’t understand how upset they are.”

  “Well, of course they are. They’re hurt and confused, just like you. You’re all in pain and still grieving, for God’s sake. So, give yourself a break. Give them a break. They’ll come around, you know they will.”

  “No, I don’t, Nadine. I just don’t know anything right now.” She stood and angrily brushed the grass from her behind. Though Nadine was right about what needed to be done, as she often was, she wasn’t saying what Carla wanted to hear, and she’d obviously heard her irritation in that last statement.

  “Okay, what’s going on? You only get this stubborn and pessimistic when you’re facing something you can’t predict the outcome of. Don’t tell me it’s just your family issue, either. We both know that will work itself out at some point, even though it doesn’t feel that way that right now. So, there has to be something more. Otherwise you would’ve bucked up, ready to go forward with a little hope and perseverance, just like you always do after we talk things through.”

  Carla took a long look at her grandmother’s grave. She put her hand to her heart, told her she loved her, and turned to head back toward the church. Sweat stung her eyes and soaked through her clothes, causing her T-shirt to stick to her back. But that mild discomfort wasn’t the reason why she hadn’t yet answered Nadine.

  “Carla? Will you please talk to me and tell me what’s bothering you?”

  She palmed her forehead and laughed at herself, knowing what she was about to say sounded bizarre.

  How had this happened?

  Why was it happening?

  And how could it be with someone I’ve known forever?

  “Carla?”

  “It’s…a woman.”

  Silence.

  “A woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “A woman.”

  “Yeah.”

  “In the middle of all this? Of all you got going on? Carla, what the fuck? What are you doing messing around with a woman? I mean I guess I can sort of understand maybe a need for comfort in all your grief, but to just up and sleep with someone, and at a time like this, doesn’t sound like you.” She paused, obviously exasperated, and took a breath. “I mean what the fuck? You don’t even like casual sex. You always say you could never have sex with someone you don’t know. Carla, my God—”

  “Nadine.” But she kept going. Carla raised her voice. “Nadine.”

  She finally stopped her verbal tirade as Carla stopped beneath the tree she’d stood under with Janice the day of the funeral. Its cool shade was a nice break from the sun, and she recalled how calm she’d felt when Janice had come to stand by her, not saying a word, just letting her know she was there with her, with nothing but love and support, should she need her.

  Just like last night.

  “I know her,” she said, recalling how she’d woken early that morning to find herself lying in her arms on the couch. They had been entangled, wrapped up in each other and pressed together like their forms had been melded together. They had to have fallen asleep quickly, because Carla’s shoes were still on and they both were still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. But that didn’t seem to have stopped them from finding comfort.

  Carla hadn’t moved for a long while, relishing her warmth and the soft contours of her body while she continued to sleep, breathing softly, her hair cascading around her shoulders, framing her peaceful face with the color that reminded her of a glowing ember.

  “She’s a family friend,” Carla said, coming back to Nadine. “I’ve known her my whole life.”

  More silence.

  “A family friend who’s a lesbian? You’ve never mentioned her—”

  “I don’t think she’s—I’m not sure she’s gay.” She leaned against the broad, rough trunk and picked at the bark, thinking about how absolutely beautiful Janice had looked when Carla had carefully roused her. Those piercing eyes of hers had opened slowly, and dozens of tiny crystals seemed to be shining from their depths.

  “Um, I’d say sleeping with you kind of pushes her more toward that end of the spectrum don’t you think?”

  Carla laughed. “I haven’t—we haven’t.” They had technically slept together. “Been intimate.”

  She heard Nadine sigh in her classic, you’re driving me batshit crazy, Carla, fashion. Carla tried to explain.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s having feelings,” Carla said.

  “And you obviously are as well.”

  Carla once again palmed her forehead, knowing any denial would be futile.

  “Yes.”

  Another long silence.

  “Now?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Amidst all this? The death, the drama, the—”

  “Yes.” Carla could almost hear the cogs of her mind working. She knew what she was telling her sounded very unusual and totally out of character. The last Nadine had known, Carla wasn’t planning on meeting anyone again, much less developing feelings for them. The failure of her relationship had completely vanquished her dream of a lifelong love, and Nadine’s mere hints at possibly trying to meet someone new had been met with quick and firm rebuttals and an absolute insistence she didn’t want to ever go there again. She was just too jaded, with wounds that had healed, but healed with scars that were still red, not yet having faded to match her surrounding flesh.

  “This is—I mean—wow,” Nadine finally said, sounding truly astounded.

  Carla smiled, appreciating her friendship more than ever. She’d known she’d get it. The magnitude of what she’d just relayed was not going to be lost on Nadine. She knew Carla way too well.

  “I’ve been staying with her,” Carla said. “Sleeping on Maurine’s couch was killing me and so was the constant onslaught of people. Janice offered me a quiet reprieve and I accepted.”

  “And now you’re sensing a mutual attraction.”

  “I’m almost positive.” She flashed back to the morning again, to when she’d just woken her, and recalled how she’d smiled shyly at her and greeted her with a raspy, sleep-laden and extremely sexy sounding, “Morning.” They’d spent an awkward moment untangling and Janice had run her hand through her thick locks, as if she were worried about looking unruly.

  Carla had quickly reassured her. “Do you know how many women would kill to wake up looking like you do right now?”

  She had smiled again, but it was coy.

  “You don’t need to worry about your hair,” Carla had said. “Or anything else for that matter.”

  Their eyes had locked, but Janice hadn’t spoken. She’d said so much with her stare.

  Carla had started to speak, but Janice had stopped her.

  “Please, don’t say thank you again.”

  Carla had cocked her head. “How did you—”

  Janice had laughed.

  She had a wonderful laugh, and the sound of it had pulled at the strings of Carla’s heart, reminding her of times long ago.

  Nadine’s voice brought her back to the present.

  “You’re not sure what to do, are you?”

  “No.”

  “You can’t talk to her?”

  “I can, but if I’m wrong, I’m afraid it will ruin everything. People here…it’s not like Phoenix. This is the Bible Belt. Being gay…a lot of people still aren’t accepting, and even if she’s okay with it, and she’s told me she is, that doesn’t mean she’s ready or wi
lling to admit her own attraction. She might not even understand that what she’s feeling is attraction.”

  “So, you’re thinking about tucking tail and running home. From your family and from her.”

  “Do you have to put it like that?”

  “That’s what you’d be doing.”

  “I’m just so overwhelmed.”

  “That’s completely understandable, and anyone in your position would be. Your heart is being tugged in all kinds of directions. The only way to stop that is to deal with one thing at a time. And if I were you, I’d start with my family. You’re smarter than the average bear, Carla. I know you can find a solution, one that everyone agrees with, and you guys can patch things up and move on. I’d make that my first priority and leave things be with the woman for now. You fear talking to her about your attraction, so just continue on as is. I know it’s been a while for you, but I’m pretty sure you can control yourself, right?”

  Carla laughed softly. “I’m going to have to. I can’t risk making that first move without being one hundred percent sure it’s what she wants. She’s too good of a friend and I’m a guest in her home.”

  “So, if anything happens, it will be her doing?”

  Carla’s mind whirled with excitement as she imagined what that would be like.

  “At this point, yes. I have to let her take the lead.”

  “What would you do if she did make a move? You might want to think about that in case it does happen.”

  “I don’t know, faint? I haven’t been with a woman in so long her touch just might completely overwhelm me and down I’d go.”

  Nadine laughed. “You might be right.”

  “No, but seriously,” Carla said. “I’m not sure how I would react. I just know that I’m seeing her in a whole new light now, and I’m discovering so much about her. She’s incredible and I don’t know how I’ve missed seeing that.”

  “Maybe you didn’t. Maybe you’ve always felt for her, but you didn’t think you would ever be able to do anything about it, so you put it in its place. Tucked it away somewhere deep and dark where it wouldn’t drive you crazy and constantly tempt you to confess your feelings for her. She might have done the same thing with her attraction to you. A lot of people have to do that at some point in their lives, for numerous reasons.”

  “It would explain the déjà vu I experience with her sometimes. But that could just be me remembering our past.” She sighed, the conversation stirring up more than she’d bargained for but glad that it had. She’d needed a new perspective and a point in the right direction. “I’d better go. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

  A lot.

  “You’ll be okay. Just remember our motto.”

  “If you don’t know, you better FITFO.”

  Carla laughed at the meaning of the acronym.

  Figure it the fuck out.

  “God, I miss you so much right now.”

  “I’m there with ya, hon, so you hang tough, okay?”

  “I will. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Kisses and hugs and all my love,” Nadine said in their traditional good-bye.

  Carla didn’t respond right away. She stared out beyond the front of the church, where the green disappeared at the edge of the hill. She had a lot to face and a lot to deal with, and it all lay ahead at the bottom of that hill where the old Chevy sat waiting for her in the parking lot. Now, however, she felt like she could handle it, thanks to Nadine and the one other person who had shown her continuous support and understanding, literally holding her in her protective embrace the night before. She thought about her as she said good-bye to Nadine, using the word that meant the most to her in this world, a word Janice had used the night before as she held her in her arms. A word she never imagined would be paired with Janice Carpenter.

  “Love,” Carla said, lowering the phone slowly from her ear, still lost in her stare beyond, still lost in her thoughts about the mysteriously beautiful woman who had always been there, but had now suddenly become front and center.

  She closed her eyes and once again paired her image with that all-encompassing word.

  Love.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Janice slowed her pace as she walked down the grassy incline back behind her great-aunt’s house. Storm clouds, thick and heavy looking, had just slid in front of the sun, casting a dark shadow over the surrounding modest brick homes, a silent warning of their intent. She was grateful for the temporary reprieve from the sun, but the air still felt stifling and smothering, with a humidity level just as high as the temperature.

  She smoothed her hands over her tightly bound hair, glad that she’d put it up in a ponytail. Her choice to wear a lightweight tank top and cotton shorts also seemed to have been wise, especially now that she found herself out in the heat, approaching her great-aunt’s garden.

  “Hey, Mamie,” she said, glad to see she was just as active as ever, hunched over the black soil in a bright, flower-pattered muumuu and oversized straw hat.

  Though her real name was Millie, she had always preferred to go by Mamie, and Janice, along with Mamie’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren, had always referred to her as such. She turned, appearing startled, and then grinned with recognition after pushing up on her horn-rimmed eyeglasses.

  “Well, I’ll be.” She stood with hands stained from the earth for a gentle hug and kiss. “It’s good to see you, sugar. Let me tidy up here and we’ll go on in the house before that thunder a-gets us.”

  “I’m surprised you aren’t already inside,” Janice said, knowing how much storms bothered her. Thunder had yet to grumble, but the storm was right on top of them, and usually Mamie took more precaution, taking cover inside away from the windows with the lights shut off.

  “It kindly snuck up on me. Shoulda been payin’ more attention.” She glanced up at the cloud cover. “We better hurry. It’s a-coming.”

  Janice helped her tuck away her gardening tools under the overhead porch and then carried the bucket she’d packed full of freshly plucked vegetables.

  “Garden’s looking good,” Janice said. Mamie brushed her hands together and then opened the basement door. They stepped inside the dim space that always had a smell that made Janice think of the word murky, even as a child. The washing machine was going on the other side of the room, and Janice was awed that Mamie could still carry baskets of laundry up and down the basement stairs, a feat other women her age might find difficult. Mamie was a force to be reckoned with at eighty-six years old, and Janice figured all the physical work she still did was what kept her so spry. She could only hope to be that vigorous at her age.

  “The tomatoes come in nicely, and I got some cucumber, and some corn and green beans. But there ain’t been much else. I reckon that rain will help everything along.”

  Janice followed her slowly up the stairs and into the kitchen. She set the bucket next to the sink as Mamie removed her hat and washed her hands. Her white hair was tied back into a bun, her wrinkled face a little scarlet from exertion. She had the fine features that most of the Carpenter women had, which many folks had often pointed out and complimented them on, making them easily identifiable as family. Janice liked to think that had an artist created their faces, he would’ve insisted on using a very fine tipped drawing pencil in order to get the sharp details and distinctness of their facial structure just right.

  Mamie wet a paper towel and wiped herself off.

  Thunder growled loudly and Mamie looked up as if she’d be able to see it.

  “Lord, it’s a-coming.”

  Her brow creased with what Janice knew was anxiousness. Some people teased Mamie over her fear of storms, but in Janice’s opinion, she had good reason to be scared. She’d been flooded out of her home when she was five and her family had lost everything, barely escaping with their lives. The water had come in the middle of the night and they’d had no warning or time to prepare. But the memory that bothered Mamie the most about that night, according to her, was
the fear and torment she’d heard as people cried and shouted and sometimes, screamed, as the fast-moving water took a loved one away.

  “Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll get us some tea?” Janice asked, retrieving two glasses from the cabinet. She poured the tea as Mamie switched off all the lights, convinced it would prevent a lightning strike, and disappeared into the living room. Janice found her in her favorite recliner, which she’d had so long it was molded to her form.

  She gave her the tea and sat on the ancient vinyl couch across from her and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. The only light came through the window, and it was weak and gray and unable to fully permeate their space. Janice could see Mamie, however, and she could take in the layout of the room, so her view was sufficient enough.

  Mamie’s house was tidy and what some would call sparse, with nothing but the absolute essentials. There was a mid-century coffee table holding a single, solitary book. It was a book about the history of their town and therefore, special enough to display. A smaller table was on Mamie’s right side where she kept her telephone and drinks. A standing light, one that Mamie could reach from where she sat, was just behind that table. On Mamie’s left, which Janice could not currently see, was a good-sized magazine holder where all of Mamie’s beloved crossword puzzle and word search books were kept alongside her magazines.

  They sipped their tea, and Janice’s gaze went directly ahead to the remaining piece of furniture. It was an old dresser that was being used as a television stand. Janice didn’t want to even try to guess how long Mamie had had that particular television set, but it had knobs to change the very few channels Mamie could pick up with the antennas.

  “What brings you by today, sugar?” Mamie leaned back and adjusted her glasses.

  Janice sat back too and crossed her legs. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you and I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. And you always told me when someone crosses your mind, you should go and cross their path.”

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Betty Sim’s a-dying would it?”

  Janice shifted, supposing it could be. She didn’t want to tell her that, though.