by Rae Walsh
After some time had passed and both Theresa and Sofía were calmer, and Theresa had stopped touching Sofía's face and saying, "It's really you," Theresa found herself sitting at the table like a normal human being, not like someone who had found a friend who had once been a star in her galaxy, a friend she thought she had lost forever.
"So," Katie said. "Do the rest of us get to know what this is all about?"
Mercy smiled. "I forget, sometimes, that you're so new."
Katie stared at her. "How could you ever forget that? I'm like an infant in Aveline."
Mercy shrugged, laughing. "I guess you fit in."
"And I knew your grandmother," Dorothy said.
"Let's not talk about me," Katie said. "I want to hear about Theresa and Sofía."
Theresa kept shooting glances at Sofía. She looked so much the same, and yet so different. Sofía had long black hair like always, but now there were threads of gray in it. She had the same deep brown eyes and light brown skin, but now there were lines at the corners of her eyes. She was less skinny, softer, more beautiful. Theresa remembered something her therapist had told her.
"Women with ASD often find a single, grounding friendship that means more to them than any usual friendship. It is identity-forming, affirming, and gives them an anchor in a social world they don't understand."
It had taken Theresa hearing this to understand her friendship with Sofía and how it had broken her when the friendship ended. Sofía. They had been friends in high school, but even better friends once they got to college. Theresa could close her eyes and hear Sofía's laugh, or her voice when she was angry at something on television. Sofía had brought the best out of Theresa. She had only ever wanted to work with animals and trees. She danced when she walked, and she pushed Theresa to do things she never would have done without a friend beside her.
Theresa cleared her throat. "Sofía is my best friend," she said. "But I haven't seen her for a long time." She couldn't stop the tears. Sofía drew near and leaned her head on Theresa's shoulder. She spoke, and her voice was the last piece in a puzzle that had once included Theresa, Sofía, and Sam. They had all been such good friends. Sofía was a better friend to Theresa than Sam was, and a better friend to Sam than Theresa. She had glued them together.
"We disagreed," Sofía said. "And I did the stupidest thing I could ever have done. I took my friendship away because I thought what we disagreed over was more important than remaining friends."
Theresa just sat there, feeling the familiar weight of her friend's head on her shoulder, trying not to remember the day when Sofía had left. Sofía was the only person on earth who knew what had happened on the night of the cruel forest. She was the one who had pulled tiny stones out of cuts on Theresa's arms and face, who had whispered over her and cleaned her up. Sofía had lied and told everyone that Theresa had a terrible case of the flu, that she couldn't come to class because she was too sick.
And the whole time, Sofía had pushed Theresa to tell. She had even accompanied Theresa to the police station the one time she tried to tell. Sofía had been horrified when Theresa refused to go back again. She had urged Theresa to report it, again and again, until Theresa screamed at her to stop. She couldn't. She couldn't do it.
It was the first thing in their friendship that had divided them. Sofía felt that she had tried to be understanding for a long time, but after a while, she felt that Theresa was being irresponsible. That the bad thing could happen to someone else because Theresa wouldn't tell. Theresa didn't think it was likely. The only person the menace cared about was her.
They were already losing their friendship when Theresa found out she was pregnant with Maddie. And by that time, Theresa was so low, so unable to rouse herself from the stupor her life had become, that she didn't tell anyone about the pregnancy, which she hadn't discovered until she was six months along. She stayed at home in her mother's house, wearing baggy clothes until it was too late to hide her shape anymore.
Hiding the pregnancy was a blow to Sofía and Theresa's friendship, but Sofía did her best to recover from the hurt she felt because Theresa had withheld something so huge. She moved away to take on a National Park internship for a year, but when she came back, she and Theresa got together as often as they could, with Dorothy or Sofía’s mother, Maria, watching Maddie. And then came the day Theresa had left. Sofía had been so angry. She wanted Theresa to fight to stay. But Theresa couldn’t do it. Slowly, the phone calls and letters stopped. But Theresa had never stopped missing her friend.
But now here she was. Theresa pulled her head back to smile at her friend. Sofía wrinkled her nose and snorted.
"Welp!" she said. "We sure know how to make a party awkward. We've always been amazing at that, haven't we Reesey?"
Reesey only smiled.
Breakfast was rather quiet, with small spurts of catching up between courses. Mercy asked after Sofía's sister. Sofía asked Katie how she had met Sam. When Theresa finally felt that she couldn't wait any longer, she excused herself to prepare for the opening.
"Can I walk home with you?" Sofía asked.
"Sure," Theresa said. "I'd love that."
They walked in the old way, Theresa, with her focused stride, and Sofía with the little hop she had as she kept up.
"It's good to see you," Sofía said.
"You too. So, your mom told you I was back?"
"She did. You didn't call."
"I tried! The number I had didn't work."
"You didn't come back to the restaurant."
"Sofie…"
"No, I won't lecture you, but I think I know why you didn't come back."
Theresa knew too. She didn't have to say it. She still didn't want to talk about it.
"Has he threatened you again?"
Theresa didn't answer, so Sofía got in front of her and turned around, stopping Theresa in her tracks. "Theresa Lily Grace. Has that man threatened you again? Since you've been back?"
"The menace," Theresa murmured, not meeting Sofía's eyes.
"What?"
"I call him the menace."
Sofía waited, folding her arms over her chest.
"Sofie, I don't want to do this again."
"Just answer the question."
"Yes, okay. He left a couple of notes."
Sofía turned red with fury. "You know this isn't okay, right? It's not normal, it's not okay, and it shouldn't be your life."
Theresa met her friend's eyes. She was surprised to see that Sofía was crying, and then she was surprised to find that her own cheeks were wet as well. Theresa kept looking at Sofía's eyes, so Sofie would know she was serious.
"I can't do this right before my opening, okay? Let me get this party out of the way, and then we will talk about what you think I should do. I'm open to ideas."
Sofía stared at Theresa for a long moment and then nodded. "Okay, Reesey," she said. "Thank you."
Chapter Forty-Two
On the night of her opening party, Theresa eyed her reflection in the mirror in her room. She wore a sparkling tulle skirt, a black button-up shirt, and a fedora that Sheldon had loaned her. Theresa fastened on a red coral necklace, applied a touch of lipstick, and was as ready as humanly possible. She leaned close to look herself in the eyes.
"You've got this, Reesey," she said. "Just one day of talking to everyone, and then you can go back to being quiet, being in your own home with your work. This is just for the opening." Theresa tried not to think of what she had promised Sofía.
"Talking to yourself, Mom?"
Theresa turned quickly and saw Maddie standing in her doorway.
"Wow," Maddie said. "You look amazing." She slipped into the room and gave Theresa a hug. Theresa pulled back to look at her. Maddie was wearing a long black dress and a tiara in her hair.
"You look beautiful, too, Little," she said. "Actually, I can't believe you're wearing a dress," she said. "What's gotten into you?"
"Katie bought it specifically for the opening," Maddi
e said. "So don't get your hopes up, okay?"
"I see." Theresa smiled at her daughter. Maddie looked back at her.
"I'm so glad we moved here, Mom," Maddie said softly, her eyes filling with tears. "You seem happy here, and I love Aveline so much."
Theresa used a finger to wipe one tear away from her daughter's cheek. She didn't say anything, but she squeezed Maddie a little tighter.
"Let's go," she said.
It was worth it, she thought, as they walked out of the room together. It was worth it to be here, even though Theresa didn't know what was going to happen, how she could keep the torn edges of her life together, or keep the menace at bay. Was Sofía right? Was Theresa making things worse for others by not confessing what she knew? She hadn't even told Sofía about the vandalism. Even the idea made Theresa's legs shake, and she reached out and grabbed onto the doorframe nearby.
Was Theresa enabling the menace of the cruel forest by not telling anyone? Was she the unwitting cause of racist vandalism in Aveline? Theresa walked to the living room window and pressed her face to it to look out on her garden. She had chosen to have the party at night to show off the lovely lighting in the studio, and the garden looked welcoming and soft, twinkle lights strung through the trees in the deepening twilight. There were paper lanterns that Katie and Theresa had hung from the trees or placed on tables.
Looking out on the beauty of her garden, Theresa knew with a sudden certainty that the ugliness of the menace would not disappear on its own. That kind of evil lived in hidden places. To make it go away, Theresa needed to expose it to sunlight. And she was so afraid of what that meant.
Theresa closed her fists and stood taller, calling on the memory everything in her life that made her feel stronger. She thought about Sheldon, and about the peace she had felt as she prayed in the quiet church, the way she was learning to be loved by God without having to be someone else. She thought of evenings of poetry with Sheldon, of the women's circle, and of Maddie, so loved and blooming into someone Theresa barely recognized. Theresa would always find life hard, and she couldn't always trust her mind, but somehow, she had still managed to make a life.
She needed to throw the doors open on this hidden thing, or she would never have the peace she needed here. George and Mercy deserved to know about the menace—if Theresa was right about the menace and the racist vandal being one and the same, that is.
After the opening, then, like Sofía said. After the opening, Theresa would ask Sheldon to help her talk to Francisco. She and Sheldon could find a way together through the residue of all the years of fear, through that twisted threat in the shadows. Theresa didn't have to hold it all on her own. Could it be?
It was as though someone had lifted an enormous weight off of her. The thought of opening up and allowing someone else to take the secret from her was like a window opening in a musty place, letting sweet outdoor air to rush in.
She felt someone beside her.
"Ready?"
Theresa turned and saw Sheldon, her lovely, beautiful, patient Sheldon, the one who had waited for her all these years and written her poetry and been his quirky, wonderful self. Sheldon had not changed. He had been a good friend to Maddie even though Theresa had been terrible to him.
She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, and he bent his head to meet her. His lips brushed hers ever so softly. She made a happy little sound, and he laughed softly, a low rumble.
He stood back and looked at her.
"Wow," he said.
"What?" she asked him.
"I know you don't like to hear this," he said, "but you are so absolutely beautiful that you make everything else in the entire world look dull in comparison. I've never seen anything or anyone as lovely as you."
Theresa felt heat rise to her face and felt a powerful thud in her chest. She thought for a minute and realized that these weren't bad feelings.
"I don't think I mind when you say it, Tazzy," she said. "It's just the rest of the world that I don't want looking at me."
"You're going to have to let them look at you for just a little while longer," he said.
"Yes," she said.
"And then back to pottery and poetry."
"We could also listen to music," she said. "You don't always have to read to me. It must make you tired."
"There are so many things we could do," he said. "We'll do them all."
She grinned at him, and he stole one more kiss. "Let's go open the doors," she said. "Katie should be here in a minute with the food." She felt the smile slide off her face. "And Tazzy?" she said, "I have something... well, in the next few days, I'd love to talk to you and Francisco."
Theresa saw his face change, but she couldn't read the expression.
"Is this about the vandal?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "And...other things."
"Okay," he said. "Is there anything you want to tell me now?"
Theresa opened her mouth to speak.
"Lovebirds!"
She turned. Sam had walked into the kitchen. "Oh my," he said.
Theresa realized that she was standing very close to Sheldon, and he had his arms around her.
"I mean, wow," Sam said. "I'm certainly supportive, but you realize we have a party to put on right now, right? Or should we reschedule and do it again at your convenience?"
Theresa scowled at her brother and squeezed Sheldon's hands in apology. She took a deep breath, picked up a sheaf of flyers from the table, and squared her shoulders.
"No, no postponing anything," she said. "I'm ready."
Chapter Forty-Three
It was easy to see very quickly that the party was a success. There was a path of lights from the garden door back to the little shop, and through the window, all of Theresa's shelves of bowls, plates, and cups were visible. The studio looked warm and inviting, and Theresa was burning her favorite scented candles. Katie had made finger foods for snacks, and there was hot rum for the adults and hot chocolate for the kids.
Theresa grew alarmed as the evening went on, and she sold almost everything she had. She was going to have to work for ages to replenish the shelves, and she wanted to focus on her big project. But it was not a bad problem to have, and Theresa could see that Sheldon thought so too. He kept grinning whenever he caught her eye. Theresa talked and talked, meeting the people who had come to the opening, smiling until her face hurt. She was relieved whenever she ran into someone she knew well. Sofía squeezed her hand, Francisco gave her a hug and said, "Courage," and Daniel winked at her, which perfectly communicated that he wasn't angry with her.
"Theresa!" Lucy called. "Did you order a pizza?"
"What?" Katie shouted. "How dare you?"
The people around them laughed, but Theresa shook her head. She walked over to the doorway, where Lucy and Katie stood.
"Of course I didn't order a pizza. I don't even eat pizza."
"No, wait, sorry. This guy says it's a clay delivery."
"Well, that sounds more likely," Theresa said, "but why at night?"
"I don't know," Lucy shrugged. "But he's adamant that he needs you to sign for it. He's at the gate."
Theresa sighed. "They always become sticklers when it's least convenient," she said, already walking out to the garden gate. When Theresa got there, though, she didn't find anyone. She looked down the street and saw the delivery truck parked a few spaces away. She squinted. The delivery guy was standing behind the truck, already pulling the roll-up door open.
"Sorry," he called. "I tried calling earlier but couldn't reach you. And there's no parking closer to the house."
"What is it?" she called.
He looked down at something. "Looks like something from Clay...I can't make out the second word. Clay Emporium?"
Ooh, that was exciting, Theresa thought. It must be the new batch—the one she had ordered for the sculpture series.
Theresa walked to the back of the truck, and the only warning she got was a faint prickling on her arms before she felt a sudden pa
in, and everything went dark.
Theresa woke with an agonizing headache, like a snake curled around one eye. She groaned and rolled over, then went rigid with panic when she opened her eyes. Her surroundings were black, without even a sliver of light, and she could feel the rumbling of wheels under her head. She felt the painful area over her temple and gasped as she touched a sticky gash over one eyebrow. What had happened? Where was she? Theresa felt panic washing over her like icy water and felt around to try to get a sense of where she was, but she could only feel bare metal, and she could see nothing. She faded into darkness again.
A little while later, Theresa's senses seemed to revive, and her mind cleared enough for her to think. This was it. The menace from the cruel forest had come for her, right before Theresa had made a move to destroy it. There was no other explanation for where she was and why she would be here.
Waves of panic. Theresa tried to breathe through the fear and keep the meltdown at bay, but her body and mind betrayed her. The switch had been triggered, and she lost it, crying and banging her hands on the walls. Theresa rocked back and forth, her arms wrapping around her knees, weeping, and the tears wouldn't stop. She hit her head, hard, to try to stop the panic. She scratched at her forehead and banged the walls of the truck again, but there was no response, and she couldn't hear anything from the cab, except for loud music. Slowly, slowly, the panic ebbed. Her head throbbed harder, and in addition to the wound above her temple, Theresa knew that now she had scratch marks on her forehead. Her breathing began to slow. Her mind threatened to check out again, to let her fade into oblivion, but she forced it back, listening to the music, trying to hear it.
When she finally figured out what it was, she wrapped her arms tighter around her.
She couldn't believe he would be so cruel.
Cam had been sweet to Theresa at first. He was Sam's friend in high school and college. Younger than Theresa, and always kind, even when her brother was acting like a jerk. Theresa was young and naive. She didn't yet know about the pitfalls of her neurological condition—she didn't even know that she had one. Theresa only knew that things that seemed simple for other people were hard for her.