A Love that Leads to Home

by Ronica Black

  “Are you always so articulate when you drink?”

  She laughed. “According to my friend Nadine.”

  Carla continued to stare at her, and Janice continued to feel it whether she was focused on the armrest or not.

  “You don’t appear amused,” Carla said.

  Janice felt the corner of her mouth lift.

  “Actually, I am. You’re a well-spoken drunk. That’s rather unusual I think.”

  “I bet you are as well. Come to think of it, you’ve had just as much to drink as I have and yet you don’t even seem buzzed.”

  “I drink more often than you, Carla. I have wine almost every night.”

  “Alone?”

  She looked up at her. “Yes.”

  “That’s not right,” she said.

  “You mentioned you prefer being alone when taking in jazz with a glass of wine.”

  “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Is it not true?”

  “It’s true. It’s just not really what I prefer. Well, not especially.”

  “What do you prefer?”

  She looked at her for a long moment. “This.”

  “This?”

  “Drinking wine with a beautiful woman next to me. Sharing the moment with her, engaging, connecting.”

  She continued to look at her and Janice had to glance away because she now wanted to react to the rampant need she was exuding even though Carla’s motives were still unknown. She was about to get up, shove her back against the love seat, straddle her, and conquer her with a deep, searing kiss. It no longer mattered that she’d never been with a woman. She wanted Carla and she knew what she wanted to do to her.

  It wasn’t rocket science.

  “Tell me, Janice. Is that what you really prefer also?”

  Janice felt her skin heat.

  “Which part?”

  “All of it.”

  Janice sipped her wine, attempting to play it cool. But she doubted she was fooling anyone.

  “It sounds nice.”

  “Like something you might like? Something you might want to experience?”

  Janice finally met her gaze. “I am experiencing it. And I do like it. Very much.”

  Carla seemed taken aback by her honesty.

  “Even though I’m a woman?”

  “Yes, Carla.”

  “You wouldn’t rather be doing this with a man? One you found attractive and interesting?”

  Janice laughed a little. “No, I wouldn’t. I would rather be here with you.”

  “Why?”

  Janice laughed again, trying to hide her discomfort. “Geez, Carla.”

  “I want to know.”

  “Because I think you are interesting. And—”

  Carla raised her eyebrows, waiting.

  “Attractive.”

  She didn’t respond. She just kept watching her.

  “Satisfied?” Janice asked, taking another sip.

  “No. Not even close.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “That you never seem to be satisfied with my answers.”

  “That’s because I’m not.”

  “Why?” Janice turned the tables.

  Carla didn’t even hesitate. “Because you don’t tell me everything. And when it comes to you, I can’t seem to settle for knowing anything less than everything.”

  Oh, I did not expect that.

  “I wish you felt comfortable enough to truly confide in me like I do you.”

  Janice swirled the wine in her glass and thought about downing the remainder, wondering just how long it would take to calm her racing heart.

  “You don’t confide everything to me, Carla. You tell me a lot. But not everything.”

  “I’m more open than you are.”

  Janice took two large swallows of her drink. “I would have no way of knowing that, would I?”

  “You know,” Carla said softly. “You are way too perceptive and intuitive to claim ignorance.” She drank more wine and then gave the glass a look of disdain. She set it on the table and ran her hands through her hair as she sat back and sighed. “I need to leave you alone. Stop with all the questions. I need to go to bed.”

  Please, don’t. Not yet. I can’t bear the thought of you walking away.

  “You’re fine, Carla.”

  “Yeah, right, I’m fine.”

  “You are.”

  “And you are—beautiful.”

  She burned a stare into Janice that was even more powerful than her sudden statement. Janice reacted with a pulse she was certain Carla could see and her skin was so hot and sensitive she was certain she’d come very close to dying at the slightest of touch. Carla had flipped a switch in her and everything she’d tried so hard to keep in check was crashing through and no longer was it possible to hide.

  “That’s why I can’t ever seem to stop looking at you,” Carla said. “That’s why I didn’t want you to change when we came in from the rain. I like the way you look when you’re—wet. Like the way you looked that day when you found me in your bedroom. I like it a lot. But honestly, Janice, I like the way you look all the time.”

  Janice gripped the armrest. She stared right back into her. Nothing and no one could’ve made her stop. But the hunger in Carla dimmed slightly. Her eyes tried to close. She gripped her forehead.

  “Fuck.” She was trying to fight back against her fatigue, blinking and widening her eyes. “I’m not going to make it much longer. So, please, hear me now, okay? I need you to hear me.”

  Janice swallowed. “Okay.”

  “I’ve always been in awe of you, Janice. In awe of your beauty, your intelligence, your heart. I don’t know why I never said so. I don’t know why I didn’t face that within myself. I don’t even know why I’m telling you now when I know I probably shouldn’t. I just suddenly feel compelled to tell you. I just suddenly feel like you should know. You should’ve always known.”

  Janice couldn’t breathe and she touched her throat as she spoke. “Carla, I—”

  “It shouldn’t have mattered that you probably wouldn’t ever have felt the same about me. It shouldn’t have. I probably feared that. I probably feared that rejection and feared losing your friendship over my feelings because they made you uncomfortable. Hell, I fear those things now. But I can’t let that fear stop me. You are incredible and you need to know that.”

  She glanced down at the coffee table.

  “I’m not going to make a move on you or anything. I wouldn’t—do that.” She blinked again against the fall of her heavy eyelids. Her head tried to tilt back but she recovered. “Not unless…not unless…you don’t have to worry.” Her speech was fading along with the meaning of her last sentence.

  Janice replied quickly, knowing she was slipping away.

  “I would never ever worry about that, Carla. Actually, my feelings are quite the contrary.”

  Carla blinked at her and Janice waited, agonizing, wondering if she had enough clarity in her to make sense of what she’d just said.

  “I don’t—” She blinked some more, her eyes on the brink of closing for good. “Understand.”

  “Carla.” Janice leaned toward her, knowing she was losing her. “I want you to make a move on me.”

  Carla’s eyes closed and her head limped to the side. Janice tapped her arm. “Carla? Carla?”

  No, no, no, no. Not now.

  She stepped over her feet and sat next to her. She touched her face, gently turned her toward her.

  “Carla?”

  “Wha?” Her eyes opened halfway and fell shut again.

  “Wonderful. I finally tell you the truth and you aren’t even conscious.” She sighed. “Another repeat of your first night here.”

  “Janice,” she whispered. She opened her eyes again and tried to keep them that way. But it appeared to be a great struggle. “Janice.” She took Janice’s hand and placed it on her upper thigh. The firm feel of her lean muscle and hot ski
n caused Janice to close her own eyes.

  Carla pressed down on her hand.

  “I haven’t been touched—so long,” she said.

  Janice shivered and looked at her. Honey colored slits of iris reflected the candlelight. Her hand controlled Janice’s, attempting to move it up and down her thigh. Janice grazed her fingertips slowly up her leg and then back down.

  Carla made a sound and bit her lower lip. Her delight was obvious and Janice nearly groaned, completely moved in knowing she was making her feel this way. But she couldn’t continue.

  Carla made another noise, this one of longing and disappointment. She tightened her grip on Janice’s wrist.

  “Please.”

  Janice spoke softly in her ear. “I can’t.”

  Carla moaned and tried to open her eyes. She mumbled and then said two words again, very clearly.

  “Touch me.”

  Janice fought for breath and some semblance of sanity. Her lust for Carla, to touch her, to make her feel good, was mere seconds away from drowning the sparse amount of rationality left in her mind.

  Carla pressed on her hand as if she knew Janice was hesitating. “Janice. I want you—”

  Oh, my fucking God. She was so tempted it literally hurt, her chest tightening like a vice. She pulled away, panicked by the temptation she had to give in to her.

  Carla been through so much and she’d finally come through the other end. Now all that stress and heartache was leaving her, and she no longer had to carry it. Her mind and body were exhausted, but they were giving it one last hoorah in trying to get Janice for some needed touch and affection before finally shutting down. But she couldn’t do it. If and when she ever got to touch Carla intimately, she wanted her fully awake and focused on her. She wanted to look into her eyes and watch her face as pleasure coursed through her. She wanted to talk to her, engage with her and listen to her cries. To have all that, she’d wait an eternity if she had to.

  She stood and tugged on her arms. “Time to get you to bed, darlin.”

  Carla groaned in obvious defiance but managed to stumble to her feet.

  They made it down the hall arm in arm and Carla collapsed onto her bed before Janice could ease her down. She clung to Janice, refusing to release her.

  “Stay,” she said. “Here with me.”

  She pulled on Janice’s arm.

  “I can’t, Carla.”

  Not tonight. Not with you in this condition.

  Carla curled up on her side and attempted to open her eyes. When she seemed to focus on Janice, she let out a laugh, surprising her.

  “So stupid. I’m so stupid.” She curled herself tighter. “Love hurts. Always gonna hurt. I can’t…” Her eyes fell closed. “Hurt anymore.”

  Janice winced, her chest now tightening around her heart. The words came from pain, from within Carla, and now they were infiltrating her, causing more. She’d been right all along. Carla’s feelings for her couldn’t combat the lingering damage to her heart.

  Despite the way they both felt about one another, it couldn’t happen. To pursue anything further would ultimately only cause more pain.

  To her.

  And to Carla.

  But it was devastating to finally concede it.

  She covered Carla with a blanket. Then she knelt and kissed her just below her ear.

  “Sweet dreams, Stargazer.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Can I get one of those?”

  Janice’s voice came to Carla from behind as she handed a lit sparkler to Erica’s son, Victor. He grinned and bounded off after his brother, Denny, who was holding his sparkler high in the air. Carla smiled after them and straightened, turning her attention to her next customer, Janice.

  “Sure.” Carla pulled a sparkler from the box on the folding table. “But you have to promise to keep it away from your eyes and you can’t put it close to your skin or anyone else’s.”

  “Gosh, I don’t know, then.” She slid her hand into her white cotton shorts as the side of her mouth lifted in the playful grin that now made Carla’s insides melt. Her eyes were already sparkling, making her request for one she could hold in her hand pointless. Their color was set off by her patriotic blue halter top covered in small white stars, appropriate wear for the Fourth of July festivities. Her face and shoulders were newly sun-kissed and slightly red. Her hair was in a ponytail which Carla understood due to the heavy heat, but she couldn’t help but imagine reaching up to pull it free from the bind so the heavy waves could fall around her face.

  It was a longing Carla had endured throughout the day as she’d spotted her off and on. She’d mostly seen her with Maurine, which Carla had been glad to see, considering how little time they’d spent together lately. Maurine, Carla knew all too well, had distanced herself from Janice for the majority of Carla’s stay, even though the person she’d truly been upset with was Carla. But that was Maurine. She always reacted first and thought later. And though she was insecure at times and had a stubborn streak a mile long, when it came right down to it, she’d readily lay her life on the line for those she loved. Carla loved her for that. And she suspected Janice did too.

  “Them’s the rules, I’m afraid,” Carla said. She held the sparkler up, waiting for her to decide.

  Janice shook her head. “I better not, then.” She motioned toward Val. “He might want one.”

  “Yeah,” Carla said, eyeing him. “But he’s a little busy right now.” They watched Val as he sat feeding Magpie spoonfuls of soupy homemade ice cream. Magpie waited patiently, tail sweeping the ground, as Val concentrated on keeping the ice cream in the spoon as he aimed it toward his furry friend. He didn’t seem to be doing it quickly enough for Magpie, though. The dog drooled and hurriedly attacked the spoon before Val even had it halfway to him. Val fussed at him, but Magpie paid him no mind, cleaning what was dropped on the ground and on Val’s knee as he waited for another bite.

  “Everyone seems to have liked your banana ice cream,” Janice said. “Even the dog.”

  “Thanks, that makes me feel so good.”

  “Well, if it means anything, I liked it. I thought it was very good. Better than what I buy at the store.”

  Carla smirked. “It should be. It’s got enough salt and sugar in it to kill an elephant.”

  Janice chuckled. “So, that’s your secret.”

  “Not my secret. Great-uncle Lloyd’s. Apparently, salt and sugar intake weren’t things they concerned themselves with in his day.”

  Val shrieked with glee as Magpie knocked the empty bowl from his hand, cleaned it, and then started in on cleaning his bare chest and chin. Carla picked up the bowl, took the spoon from Val, and smacked his behind playfully as he took off to go wash up as she’d instructed. She tossed the bowl and spoon in the trash and got rid of the stickiness by rubbing her hands together. She smoothed down her white T-shirt with a faded American flag on the front and her khaki shorts, pleased they, too, were void of ice cream stains.

  “They knew a good thing when they had it,” Janice said. “They didn’t worry about the rest. That’s probably something we should all do a little more.” She was looking out across the lawn where the grill Rick was manning still smoked with cooking burgers and hotdogs and kids ran and giggled while the adults lounged in chairs as they ate and chatted.

  Carla removed her sunglasses, folded them closed and slid them into the collar of her shirt. The sun was finally turning in after a long, hot day of celebration and the nightly festivities were soon to begin. Rick and Cole already had the fireworks ready to go for everyone’s immediate, personal entertainment, and the church just down the road would provide the larger, more professional fireworks for everyone when they began their show.

  Janice, when it came to Carla, had been MIA, and Carla still wasn’t positive, but she’d been wondering if she’d been purposely avoiding her.

  She’d been unusually quiet the past few days despite their evening talks, which were still as thoughtful and lighthearted a
s they’d always been during Carla’s stay. And when they weren’t talking, they were sitting together on the couch, watching a movie, sharing a bowl of popcorn, their hands sometimes suspiciously colliding, causing quick laughs and quiet apologies. Of course for Carla, they caused so much more. Neither of them took it further, however. They just settled in closer, bodies pressed together as if neither wanted to ever separate.

  That closeness had developed into a comforting familiarity. They had become intuitive, knowing what the other preferred, needed, or often times even felt, resulting in a competition of generosity. They did for each other, both happy and eager to give and help where the other was concerned. Carla couldn’t ever remember feeling so well known and cared for and she was feeling so content, her longing to return home had lessened, almost to where she avoided thinking about having to return when the time came.

  “Was there a deeper meaning to that statement?” Carla asked, once again pushing the thought of leaving from her mind.

  Janice looked at her curiously but didn’t answer.

  “You sounded sad and then you got all quiet on me.”

  “Oh.” She shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

  Carla shook her head. “There’s something about that answer that I still don’t believe, regardless of how many times you say it. I know you pretty well now, Janice. You don’t seem to say things that profound without having given it a lot of thought.”

  “Maybe you’re reading into things that aren’t there. Or maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

  Carla sensed she’d taken offense. That, too, made her wonder. She knew something happened the night they’d walked in the rain, bits and pieces had come to her and the eroticism that had accompanied those pieces had made it difficult for her to believe they’d really occurred. But she hadn’t dreamt them, and they felt way too real to have come from her imagination. Something had definitely happened, and those sporadic seconds of recall suggested that she’d finally voiced her feelings to Janice and Janice hadn’t exactly run away. Carla wasn’t certain, though she’d thought about that evening time and again, hoping to remember, but she had the feeling that Janice may have confessed something of her own.