by Ronica Black
“Lord, child, I know I’m old, you don’t have to sit there looking like the cat that swallowed the mouse.” She set her glass on the table next to her. “You ain’t got to worry yourself. I’m a-doing just fine and dandy.”
“I was sure you would be.”
“But you was worried.”
Janice shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
Mamie chuckled, and then stared out the front window in what looked like sad contemplation.
“It’s a shame, Betty getting sick and going so fast. I wish I woulda called her. It woulda been nice to talk to her one last time.”
“She knows you cared, Mamie.” Mamie and Betty hadn’t been outrageously close, but they had known each other for a very long time. Janice felt for her, knowing that Mamie would’ve wanted to attend the funeral, had she not been in Wilmington, visiting her grandson, just as she did at this time every summer. “Your heart was with her and that’s all that matters.”
She didn’t appear to be comforted. “Her kin, they doing all right?”
“They’re having a bit of a hard time adjusting, her passing away so suddenly and all. But they’ll pull through. They’re strong people.”
“I remember you and that Maurine was attached at the hip when you was little. The Lord almighty couldn’t a torn you two apart.”
Janice smiled wistfully. She had seen Maurine earlier that morning. She’d been quiet and distant with her recently, and Janice had assumed it was in response to Carla coming to stay with her. But, as she’d discovered that morning, her mildly cold distance had since hardened into ice. Her disdain had shifted from Carla’s residency with her to the will. She was downright pissed at Carla, and it seemed that feeling had extended to Janice as well. She was convinced that she had sided with Carla, and her paranoia had probably all but been confirmed when Janice tried to get her to understand that Carla hadn’t known about Betty’s final wishes.
Maurine had bit into her then with harsh words.
“Since when have you and Carla been so tight?”
“Was having one Sims girl as a best friend not enough for you? You got to have two now?”
Her hurt and jealousy were palpable, and Janice had tried her best to get her to see reason. But when it had come to trying to explain her and Carla’s sudden closeness, she’d faltered and stumbled over her words, which made their relationship sound shady, like maybe they were shutting Maurine out or keeping something from her.
Truth was, she was hiding something.
She was hiding her feelings for Carla.
And she was becoming more and more certain that Carla was doing the same.
“We were pretty tight, weren’t we?” she said, the guilt over Maurine’s hurt turning her stomach.
“Poor child must be heartbroken as close as she was to her mama.”
“She is. They all are.”
“What about that little old granddaughter of Betty’s? She come home for the funeral?”
“Carla.” She sipped her tea, her mouth suddenly dry. “Yes, she did.”
“Good. That’ll help Maurine a little. They was always more like sisters than they was aunt and niece.”
The guilt expanded, and she felt it trying to climb her throat. She hesitated in telling Mamie about Carla’s current living arrangement, but she knew she’d find out sooner or later. In this town, the only boundaries that were respected regarded land. Personal boundaries and privacy? You had to drive into the city for those.
“Actually, Carla’s been staying with me.”
Mamie turned from the window and fixed her eyes on her. The surprise she’d felt at that information had only shown itself for a second before she regained control. A second was a lifetime when it came to hiding emotion, though and more than enough time for Janice to see it.
“Wasn’t she the one who was always running around trying to catch lightning by the tail?”
The corner of Janice’s mouth lifted as her own attempt at hiding what she felt failed. Mamie’s description of Carla was spot-on. Even now when she was besieged with stress and grief and sadness. That lightning chaser was still there, and Janice could see it in her eyes sometimes. Like when she returned from a run or showed off her sharp wit. It was like watching Carla being brought back to life, back to her true form, if only for a few seconds.
“Yep, that’s her. You couldn’t have described her any better.” She tried to lower the upturned corner of mouth, but she had a hard time, too amused and excited as she pictured Carla in that state.
“You’re quite fond of her,” Mamie said, causing Janice to quickly refocus on her. She was wearing a grin, similar to what Janice felt was on her own face. But Mamie’s seemed to be almost mischievous.
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
“There ain’t no supposing about it. I can see it in you.”
Janice felt her cheeks burn and her gaze abandoned Mamie’s before she could stop it, and she knew that would only feed into whatever it was Mamie was after. She had her suspicions as to what she was digging for based on her comments and the grin, but she had a hard time believing that a woman Mamie’s age, with such a conservative background, would ever think that she might feel something more for Carla than friendship.
“I didn’t realize ya’ll were so close.”
Oh, Lord.
Maybe I’m the one who’s naive here.
“We—I—” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead, desperate to get a hold of her nerves. “Our…closeness is more of a recent thing.” She cleared her throat and could feel the scrutiny of Mamie’s lively eyes.
“Mm.” She nodded once, like she understood. “She still got all that tomboy in her?”
Janice shifted again, her discomfort growing.
How in the world do I answer that?
Yes, Mamie. She’s a stunningly beautiful, almost graceful looking grown woman who still has a little bit of that tomboy in her…
And it’s sexy as hell.
“I—she’s grown up a lot, Mamie. She’s a teacher as a matter of fact. High school.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
Janice blinked at her. Oh, heaven above. “Sorry?”
She waved her off. “Did I ever tell you about your great-aunt Gale? My younger sister?”
Janice shook her head in confusion. Of course, she knew who her great-aunt Gale was, but she had no idea what Mamie was referring to about her.
Rain began to fall before Mamie could answer, seemingly a quick foreshadowing of how Mamie’s probing would soon cause the world to fall down on Janice. They both looked out the front window at the heavy downpour. The rain was coming down so hard the drops looked connected, like hundreds of silver streaming lines.
Mamie’s old rotary phone rang, and its shrill was shocking, causing Janice to startle and spill some tea.
She shook it off her hand and made sure it didn’t get on her tank top.
Mamie answered the phone and greeted Ethel, her long-time neighbor, and in hearing Mamie’s invitation for Ethel to come over to wait out the storm, Janice knew she should go. She returned to the sink to wash her glass. She was drying it with a dishtowel when Mamie hung up.
“Ethel’s coming by,” she said. “She don’t much like thunderstorms either.”
“I’m going to go ahead and go then so you two can visit. I have some errands to run anyway.”
She put away the glass and walked back into the living room to stand at her chair.
“It’s good you and Ethel have each other,” she said, smiling down at her.
“I reckon so.” She took Janice’s hands. “We all need somebody in this life. Some of us find someone, and if we’re lucky it lasts a good spell. And there are some of us that don’t. Your great-aunt Gale, well, she was never married, never found a fellow she cared for, but that didn’t stop her.” She laughed softly. “I reckon that’s why the good Lord puts all kinds of people in our lives. So’s we always have someone if we need them. Gale, she had one of those
people. A good close friend to walk by her side.” She pumped her hands up and down, letting her know what she was about to say was important. “I know you wasn’t ever happy being married, sugar. But you ain’t got to be alone. You can have yourself someone and it don’t have to be a husband. It can be someone else who’s special to you.”
She paused, looking up at her with a loving warmth Janice could feel seeping into her skin.
Was she referring to Carla?
Could she really be?
A light rapping came from the carport door. Mamie smiled at her with regret, the end to their conversation as obvious as her quiet disappointment.
“You ain’t got to say nothing,” she said. “You heard me out and that’s all I wanted.” She sighed. “You know I don’t like you driving in a storm, but I ain’t gonna argue with you. You’re as stubborn as your daddy was, and arguing with him plum wore me out.”
There was another short series of raps.
“Promise me you’ll drive careful.”
Janice nodded. “I will.” She knelt and kissed her. “I love you.”
“I love you, sugar.”
They parted and Janice hurried to the door. Ethel greeted her with a bubbliness that was usually infectious, but Janice was as oblivious to that as she was at what she was saying. She excused herself politely and said good-bye and stepped into the muggy air, not even focused enough on reality to ready herself for the cold onslaught of rain she had to endure to get into her car.
Nothing, it seemed, could bring her back from where her conversation with Mamie had taken her.
Nothing could bring her back from her fantasy of a future with Carla.
Chapter Fifteen
The home phone at Janice’s house beeped rudely in Carla’s hand.
“Figures.” She turned it off and thought about using her cell phone, but the battery was low on it too, so she decided to call it quits for the day. She gathered her files and the spiral notebook she’d been jotting notes and thoughts in. It was after four and she’d been sitting at the kitchen table for hours in dire contemplation about the will. She’d spoken briefly with the attorney, picking his brain for ideas, but he’d told her he thought Betty had made the right decision in leaving everything to her. She’d pondered that for a while and then tried to call him back with more questions. But the dead phone signaled the much-needed stop to her day. The headache that had started as a tiny seed earlier was now a full-blown menace, reinforcing that signal to stop. Maybe now that she had quit, the two Tylenol she’d swallowed ten minutes before would finally kick in.
She picked up her things, along with the phone, and headed for her room.
The thunder from the rainstorm spoke to her overhead, letting her know it was still present and it meant business. Janice was still out running errands and probably caught in the middle of it. Carla hoped things weren’t too bad out there. Janice had been gone since late morning, and a small tinge of worry came to life in her mind. She hadn’t worried about the safety of a woman in a long time, and she almost allowed herself to overanalyze why she was doing so now. But instead, she told herself that Janice was someone she cared about and being a little concerned about her in a bad storm was perfectly acceptable.
She entered her room and put away her files. Then she crossed into Janice’s room in search of the charging base for the cordless phone. It was sitting on her nightstand along with a couple of books and a lamp. She rounded the bed, noticing the red, velvet-looking duvet cover and well-matched throw pillows. Larger pillows were positioned at the headboard, and Carla couldn’t help but want to touch them. They looked so thick and soft and a few had different textures. She placed the phone in the cradle and sat on the bed. She ran her hands along the alluring fabrics and felt the cool satin of her sheets as her hand sank between pillows.
Her body tightened, a sudden thrill coming over her as she thought of Janice purposely choosing these sensual things for her bed, her most sacred, intimate place. The romantic appeal of it was calling to Carla, and she began to imagine Janice wrapped up in the silky sheets, her beautiful body gliding against them as she writhed in ecstasy, her head tilted back, splaying her fire-like hair, releasing a throaty cry.
Carla had to force herself to remove her hand, her excitement rising to a dangerous level. She stood quickly, needing to put some distance between herself and this room and she bumped the nightstand causing a book to fall. She picked it up and did a double take as she returned it to its place. A ball of disbelief wedged in her throat.
“No,” she said. “No way.” She touched the book cover and reexamined the title, convinced she was imagining things. But recognition of the title registered, and her body burned so fiercely she thought she’d leave burn marks on the carpet.
“Hi.”
Carla turned, the burning colliding with embarrassment. She swallowed and it actually made a sound.
“Hi.” It came out on a weak breath. So many thoughts and feelings were rushing through her, one slamming into another, imploding, exploding, multiplying, she was sure nothing else could move her so profoundly.
She was wrong.
Janice stepped fully into the room and Carla saw, first her wet, dripping hair, then her glistening face and then…her tank top.
God bless America.
It was the only thing that came to mind, everything else, including her grip on sanity, fled.
She blinked, ensuring the reality of what she was seeing. What she’d seen a few nights before had been a mere tease. What she was seeing now, which was everything, with absolutely nothing left to the imagination, was downright flabbergasting.
“What’s going on?”
It was Janice. She was talking. She’d said something. But Carla was transfixed by the puckered circles of her dark pink areolas on her full, rounded breasts.
“Hm?”
Her eyes followed Carla’s. She looked down at her chest.
“Oh, no.” She attacked her shirt with hurried hands, first trying to pluck it from its press against her body and then grabbing at the hem. She had it up and over her head before Carla could even blink again.
Then she stood there, with her limp shirt at her side, wearing nothing above her waist but a white bra. Or what was normally a white bra. When it was dry.
And it was so not dry. And her breasts were so beyond beautiful. They might as well have been completely exposed at that point with the very wet, very thin fabric of the bra doing very little to cover anything. In fact, Carla reasoned, if she were to put her mouth on her breasts at that moment, with the bra still on, there was no doubt in her mind that Janice would feel it. She’d probably even cry out like she’d just imagined her doing in her bed. And the goddamned thought of that had her so worked up she was about to come out of her skull.
She clenched her fists, determined to control the pounding rush of blood in her ears. But she knew she wasn’t hiding her arousal well. Her breathing was too shallow, too loud. She made a noise, completely involuntarily, short but high in pitch. It caused both of them to jerk and Janice glanced down at herself again and reddened like a ripe plum.
She turned and Carla heard her mumbling. She was scrambling to get out of the bra and Carla rounded the bed, intent on giving her some privacy. But Janice turned on her, catching her near the door. Her arms were folded across her chest, pressing into her breasts, bra dangling from one hand.
“Sorry,” she said, as if she’d done something horribly wrong.
“No, I’m—”
“Could you give me a moment, please?”
Carla retreated, feeling a fool. “Of course. I’ll just go—I’ll be in the living room.”
She left her quickly and just about ran down the hall. She reached the couch but was too worked up to sit. She paced, hand to forehead, fingers massaging with worry. Rational thought was slow to arrive, and when Janice entered the room, dressed in knit capris and a T-shirt with the name of her college on it, Carla was still just as excited as she’d be
en when she’d seen her in the wet shirt. Seeing her covered in fresh clothes didn’t do a damn thing to douse her desire.
“I—” Carla tried again.
“You were…in my room,” she said softly. Her rained-soaked hair was combed back, and the skin on her neck and arms still glistened with moisture. Her eyes were like daggers, their blue-green intensity piercing Carla’s body and her psyche. The tiny sharp pinpricks were as relentless as her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding weak and hesitant. “I was returning the phone.”
And caressing the very sensual sheets and pillows your goddamned glorious body lies upon and touches every night.
“Is that all?”
No.
I also saw what you’re reading.
And up until you walked in the room, I thought nothing could hit me as hard as that did.
“Mm-hm.”
She studied her a moment longer and the rainfall increased, hammering the roof. Thunder cracked loudly, shaking the house with flashes of lightning hot on its tail. The house lights flickered, mimicking the thunderbolts, and then died in an instant, leaving them in near darkness.
It was yet another element added to the scenario, giving even more power to Carla’s tumultuous feelings. First there had been the allure of the bed, then the surprise of the book and then, heaven help her, the sight of her beautiful body in the wet tank top.
And now, they were not only totally alone, with that thick, visceral charge of electricity between them.
They were also in the dark.
Chapter Sixteen
White flashes from lightning illuminated Janice’s face as she stared out the window at the storm. She’d broken eye contact a few seconds after the power failure and moved to the window. They hadn’t spoken for several agonizing minutes and Carla wasn’t sure if she should. She kept a close watch on Janice, searching for signs that would suggest she was upset. But looking at her so intently had left Carla entranced by the elegant features of her face each and every time the storm lit her up.
“It wasn’t my intention to invade your privacy,” Carla said, unable to take the silence or guilt she felt over the ordeal any longer.