by Ronica Black
She missed those days.
When the three of them were happy and enjoyed each other.
Now everything was so messed up. Maurine wasn’t even spending a lot of time with Janice.
“I miss you,” Carla said, sipping her soda.
Maurine chewed on a bite from her sandwich, staring straight ahead through the oversized lenses of her trendy sunglasses.
“Don’t you miss me?” Her silence was maddening.
Maurine sipped her own drink. “I don’t feel much of anything these days.”
Carla’s heart sank and she wasn’t sure what to say. She let the silence seep in between them. After a short while, she heard the clamoring of claws on the deck steps. Magpie, the neighborhood Labrador who seemed to belong to no one and everyone, emerged with his black and pink tongue hanging low and his sizable butt wiggling. His short curve of a tail swatted the air rapidly and seemed to be the power supply to his dancing hind end.
“Hey, boy.” Carla held out her hand and he sauntered to her. She rubbed his thick head which was warm from the sun. He had the smell of free-roaming hound on him along with a wet and mud coated underside. Both gave away his recent and favorite activities of chasing wild animals, rubbing and rolling himself on dead ones, and trouncing aimlessly through the creek. She was surprised but grateful he hadn’t brought one of his treasures along with him. He was known to collect and hoard his goods, hence his name. She pulled apart her sandwich and fed it to him, unsure as to when he last ate. When he finished, he collapsed in a shaded corner and cleaned his paws.
Carla turned her attention back to Maurine and followed her line of sight through the deck railing to the hilly fields beyond. She could just barely see the sparkles from the twinkling of the creek water at the far end. She was always so moved by the beauty of the Sims land.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she finally said to Maurine. “I’m sorry for a lot of things.” She paused, waiting for a response from Maurine but got nothing. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately though, about all this stuff and I want to run some things by you. I came by today to see if you would hear me out.”
Maurine swallowed another bite. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get upset again. I…I just can’t cry anymore. I don’t have any cry left in me. Do you know what happens when you don’t have any cry left? The pain still tries to get out, only it can’t, not with tears anyway. And you find yourself wishing for tears of all things. For the ability to cry. But nothing happens. Nothing changes. You come close to crying sometimes. But, well, we all know close don’t count in nothing but horseshoes and hand grenades.”
More silence ensued and Carla felt like she’d just been gutted, and Maurine appeared just as morose, having tossed her plate and what was left of her sandwich aside. She sat with her arms crossed over her chest but didn’t quite pull off angry and defiant. Her body was too weighted down with sadness for that, her face too drawn.
“I’m so sorry you’re hurting so badly, Maurine.” It killed her to think of Maurine crying at all. She was always so strong, so formidable. Hearing she’d cried so much that she no longer could continue, hurt her beyond measure. “I can’t make what’s happened go away. I can’t bring Grandma back and I can’t take away your pain. I can do one thing, though. Which is what I want to talk about. But first, there’s something else I need to tell you. Something I don’t think you’re aware of.”
Maurine glanced over at her, but she didn’t show any interest.
“It’s about the will.” Carla went on. “Grandma didn’t write that will recently. She wrote it ten years ago.”
Maurine shrugged. “What does that matter?”
“Maurine, think about where everyone was at in their lives ten years ago. You were going through a nightmare of a divorce, your house was at the constant threat of foreclosure because Clint wouldn’t pay his half of the mortgage payment on time, you were scared of both him and your future, and you weren’t sure where you were going to live.”
“Cole was in a deep depression because his wife had left him, and Erica had just been in that awful car wreck and was recovering. He was also having trouble with his job which he eventually lost and was unemployed for two months. He had to live with Grandma for close to a year before he got back on his feet.”
“And Rick, Jesus,” Carla said.
“That’s when he hurt his back at the sawmill.”
Carla nodded and kept talking.
“He was laid up for six months. In horrible pain. His girlfriend took pretty good care of him until she said she couldn’t do it anymore and left. You ended up moving in with him. Helped you both out I guess.”
“But do you remember the worst part of it all?”
Carla continued.
“Rick got mad at Cole. He blamed him when his girlfriend left him because she then went after Cole. Cole didn’t do anything wrong, but Rick didn’t believe it.”
“They didn’t speak for months.” Carla studied her, hoping she was reaching her. “Remember?”
Maurine swung her legs over the side of the lounge chair to face Carla and threaded her hands together on top of her head.
“Our lives were a disaster,” she said, removing her sunglasses. Her eyes were serious and sad and finally absent of resentment. “I didn’t even think about any of that.” She looked at Carla for a long moment, then swallowed and glanced away. “You were the only stable one she had.”
Carla responded softly, so relieved that she’d reached her. “At the time, yes.”
She was quiet for another long moment. “I’m so sad for her now. She must’ve been worried sick about what to do. So, she did the only thing that made sense. The safest thing.”
“She knew I would do my best to do right by everyone. And I’m going to. I don’t know how ya’ll could’ve ever thought anything different of me.”
Maurine studied her and seemed to be moved by the emotion she saw on Carla’s face. She got up and took the few steps to embrace her where she sat. She pulled Carla to her waist and held her.
“I’m sorry, Carla. I’m sorry. I was—we were hurt and confused, but we should’ve never turned on you over it. We’re—I’m just so stupid sometimes.”
Carla teared up a little then. Her cheek pressed against both the warm, freckled skin of Maurine’s abdomen and the rough denim of her shorts. When she pulled away, she wiped at what was left of the moisture from her tears and Maurine’s suntan lotion.
“Families tend to get that way in these sorts of matters,” Carla said, swinging her legs over the side of her chair to make room for Maurine.
Maurine sat next to her and helped Carla remove her sunglasses. She looked into her eyes.
“Can you ever forgive me?”
Carla nodded. “Silly, I already have.”
Maurine smiled and her eyes welled with tears.
“Hey, look, you’ve got tears,” Carla said.
“I do, don’t I?” She took a finger and swept some away. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to cry.”
“Me neither,” Carla said. “Somehow these tears feel good.”
They both laughed softly, and Maurine shook her head. “Lord, I wonder what Mama’s looking down and thinking about all this.”
“Oh, she’s pissed. There’s no doubt about that.”
“She’d give us all an earful, wouldn’t she?”
“Would? She’s already doing it. Can’t you hear her? She’s telling us all to stop this shit and get on with our lives.”
Maurine looked up at the approaching storm clouds. “She’s the only one I know who could go to heaven and still raise hell.”
Carla laughed and wrapped an arm around her neck. “You got that right.” She looked up at the sky with her. “Now it’s time to make everything else right.” Tiny icy drops of rain pricked her face. She grinned.
“We hear you, Grandma. We hear you.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Oh, no,” Janice said as large raindrops s
plattered onto the pavement around them. “It’s coming down again.” She looked to Carla to see if she was concerned. She wasn’t. She appeared to be just as happy as she had been when she’d walked in the front door an hour ago, greeted her with a loud, and boisterous hello and hurried off to shower and change.
“I know, and it’s fantastic.”
The rain fell a little harder. Janice instinctively cowered and searched for cover.
“We’re going to have to run home.” She pulled on Carla’s hand, but Carla didn’t budge. She merely smiled.
“Carla, come on.” Thunder rolled through the dark gray clouds. They were still a good ways from the house. She’d been worried about getting caught in the lingering storm, but Carla had been so eager to go for a long walk, she hadn’t been able to resist. Her cheerful mood was infectious, and as they’d trekked through the trail in the nearby woods, she’d filled her in on the catalyst for her newfound joy. She’d finally made amends with her family.
Carla resisted her and then tugged her in closer.
“Haven’t you ever walked in the rain?” she asked, glancing up into the sky. She held out her palm and closed her eyes. The rain pelted her face and she laughed. “It’s the best thing ever.”
“But you just showered.”
“I had sunscreen on me. It was greasy.” She held out her palms, catching the drops. “Getting rained on is marvelous, not something I’d ever consider to be a nuisance, having just showered or not.”
“It’s cold,” Janice said. She was only halfheartedly complaining. Carla was enjoying their predicament and seeing her so lighthearted and excited was wonderful and a long time coming.
“Cold?” Carla looked at her like she was crazy. “Come here.” She pulled her closer and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “Better?”
Janice nodded, instantly lost in her eyes and the firm warmth of her body. She could’ve taken her anywhere through any kind of force of nature and Janice would’ve let her. They hadn’t spoken about what had happened at the sink and Janice thought about bringing it up now. Carla had acted like nothing at all had happened so she wasn’t sure how to broach the topic and she had no idea what bringing it up would lead to.
For whatever reason, Carla was resisting her obvious attraction. Janice’s guess was that it was due to the painful end of her most recent relationship. That was the likeliest of possibilities. The betrayal and hurt were probably still wreaking havoc on her heart, which was why she’d voiced her disdain for future relationships. Which, sadly, would include a relationship with Janice. But if perhaps those feelings of aversion were changing due to Carla’s attraction to her, which could be the case, or Janice at least wanted that to be the case. Then Carla would be just as anxious about that happening than she was about love and relationships to begin with. The thought of trusting someone again was probably terrifying.
And I’m not exactly an out and experienced lesbian. Or any sort of lover with a lot of experience for that matter. Nor do I live close to her home. And let’s not forget that I’m her aunt’s best friend. God, is there anything else that can be piled on to this heap of deterrence?
They walked on through the rain with Carla smiling up into the sky from time to time. Thunder continued to grumble, keeping them company. The rain was constant but cooperative, holding back a heavy assault. The evening air had cooled, making for a pleasant stroll.
“It’s going to take some more time for us to wrap up Grandma’s affairs,” Carla said, her eyes on the path ahead. “We have to decide how to divide everything and more paperwork will have to be drawn up.”
She grew quiet and Janice wasn’t sure if she was waiting for her to respond.
“I need to make sure you’re okay with that.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because it means I need to remain here in North Carolina a little longer.”
She grew quiet again. Janice sensed her unease.
“If you’re asking if you can continue to stay with me, then the answer is yes. Of course. For as long as you want. I’d hoped you would know that by now.”
“It wouldn’t be right for me not to make sure.”
Janice enveloped her waist and pulled her closer, loving the feel of Carla’s arm still resting along her shoulders.
“That was mighty polite of you, Ms. Sims. But not necessary.”
They were approaching the edge of the woods. The house was in sight.
“And you don’t need to thank me again, either.”
Carla looked at her. “Oh, that I know, trust me. I wouldn’t dare do that at this point.”
“I’m glad to hear you’ve finally wised up. ’Bout time.”
Carla squeezed her and the rain began to fall harder. Janice didn’t panic or try to hurry them along. She stuck to her side, wanting their walk in the evening rain to last for all time.
They reached the house with wet heads and damp shoulders. Carla held open the screen while Janice stood hunched at the door, fumbling with the keys. Her fingers were slick, and she was too aware of Carla’s close proximity. She couldn’t seem to find the right key.
“Damn it.”
Then she felt Carla’s gentle hand on hers, and the keys nearly slid from her grip. She got caught up in her eyes, though, and Carla carefully took the keys and unlocked the door with ease. She motioned for Janice to enter first.
“Thanks.” Janice was headed to the bedroom to change, feeling an absolute fool when Carla stopped her.
“No, don’t,” she said softly. “Don’t go change.”
Janice turned, confused.
“But we’re wet,” Janice said.
“I like it,” she said. “Don’t you? It feels good. Like I’m brand new.” She tousled her hair. Her face fell when Janice didn’t agree.
“Oh, I forgot you’re cold. Never mind then.”
“You’re not?”
Carla shook her head. “Nah.”
“Because I can get you a towel at least.”
“I’m good.” She turned toward the kitchen and Janice hurried to her bedroom to quickly change and comb her hair. When she returned to the living room the wine and glasses were on the table and Carla was lighting the candles.
“Just in case,” she said with a wink. She handed Janice a full glass and smiled at her as she sank into her usual spot on the love seat.
They relaxed and began to talk as they drank. After the first glass the storm intensified with heavy rain and formidable thunder and lightning. As they finished a second glass the lights went out. Carla was busy pouring them a third when Janice noticed the effect the alcohol was having on her.
“You look so different now. So happy,” Janice said. “I can’t believe the change from yesterday to today.”
A smile spread across her face and it looked so loose and easy Janice wondered if it might actually slide off. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“You look downright drunk,” Janice added.
“That’s because I am downright drunk. I’m allowing myself one last night of drink. Then, I’m done. I’m back to drinking upon rare occasion.” She held her wine glass out for a toast. “But here’s to tonight. To me for somehow making things right, to you for graciously seeing me through, and most especially, to fucked up families everywhere, may you sort out your problems simply because you’re too tired to keep up the fight.”
“Hear, hear.” They clanked glasses and drank. Janice felt warm and content. She brushed her hair back from her cheek and became conscience of her appearance. Carla, of course, looked as sexy as ever in her Human Being T-shirt, which was damp and clinging to her body, black athletic shorts, and androgynous hand-tousled hair. Janice, however, worried she didn’t look as appealing.
That worry was soon doused by Carla intently staring at her as she sipped her wine. Though she’d caught her doing that several times during her stay, tonight felt different. The heavy weight of her family drama had been lifted from her, and everything in her had come to life. I
t was like watching a flower garden grow on high speed. Happiness, relief, and joy had just sprouted. Seeing her this way was a sight to behold and Janice felt very lucky to be witnessing it.
Carla, however, appeared to be caught up in her. She seemed to be riveted.
Janice lowered her glass and saw Carla’s eyes travel up and down her body. When her eyes finally returned to gaze back into her own, Janice could see and feel the fiery inferno of her desire. It was as if Carla had touched her skin with her eyes, running delicate fingers up and down her body.
“I’m staring again aren’t I?” Carla asked.
The confession was familiar. It seemed Carla’s inhibitions were easily drowned in wine, paving the way for forthright behavior and declarations.
Janice cleared her throat. “Yes.” She was flattered by the attention and aroused at the hunger she could see in her. Carla was less stressed now and coming at her from a place of confidence and emotional clarity. It made Janice feel truly desired and she hadn’t been afraid to answer her honestly and admit her acknowledgment.
“I have an excuse, however,” Carla said, pointing at the bottles on the coffee table. “The wine, you see, has soaked into the pores of my exhausted sponge of a brain, leaving me somewhat vulnerable to behaving by the terms of my default setting.”
“Your default setting?”
She grinned again and leaned in like she was about to share a secret.
“You know, acting on my very strong propensity for women. Beautiful, intelligent women.”
Oh, that. Okay.
No big deal.
She’s only blatantly flirting with me.
Janice rubbed the armrest with her fingertips, Carla’s stare intense. But she held her ground, her courage having grown from all the time they’d spent together. She volleyed her serve, putting the ball back in her court.