High October

by Elena Graf

  “You can go back to bed, but I won’t promise I’ll let you sleep.” Liz put a cup of coffee into her hands. “Drink up or we’ll miss the show.”

  As Liz navigated the narrow, winding road in the dark, she drove at a speed Maggie found unnerving. In some places, it was a sheer drop down the side of the mountain, which Maggie clearly remembered from the drive in the daylight. Finally, they reached the top of the mountain, where they found they had company. The summit parking lot was overflowing with cars and bicycles. People in colorful hiking clothes passed by in a steady stream as Liz found one of the last parking spaces. Maggie began to realize this was very special event.

  “Come on, we can’t be late for this.” Liz took Maggie’s hand. They walked along the rocks, past the summit to the other side of the mountain where the ocean below was barely visible in the dim light. Only the white caps over the dark expanse let Maggie know they were looking at the Atlantic. “This is where the sun first rises on the continental United States,” Liz explained. “The first dawn in our country.” She squeezed Maggie’s hand and then held it. Soon a sliver of light appeared over the ocean. It grew quickly, rising above the water and throwing streams of pink and lavender in its wake.

  “My God!” breathed Maggie. “How beautiful!”

  They watched until the sun rose in the sky.

  Liz put her arm around her. “I’ll take you into town for breakfast.”

  “No, take me back. I need to make love to you.”

  When returned to the cabin, they peeled off their clothes and lay flesh to flesh. Maggie reveled in the feel of Liz’s soft skin against hers.

  “Please fuck me,” whispered Maggie into Liz’s ear.

  “Is that your new favorite word?” Liz smiled against her cheek as she moved in her more forcefully. Maggie pulled up her knees to get more, and then, unexpectedly, she had an orgasm inside, something she’d never experienced with men no matter how long and hard they pounded into her. Then Liz stealthily moved down her body and used her lips and tongue to make her come again. Maggie nearly screamed with pleasure before she remembered that they were very close to other people in the campground, closer than they would ever be in Liz’s house. She would reserve that particular pleasure for another time.

  Liz was grinning when she raised her head. “Impressive,” she said. “More?” She blew gently on Maggie’s clitoris, which made her jump.

  “No more. Get up here.”

  Liz returned to Maggie’s arms and kissed her.

  “I can smell my scent on your face.”

  “I’ve never forgotten your scent. It’s very dear to me.” Liz pulled her closer, and Maggie felt that she could never be happier than she was at that moment, safe and warm in her lover’s arms.

  Chapter 18

  As Liz drove down from Portland, where they had stopped to have lunch, she stole glances at Maggie, who’d fallen asleep soon after they’d gotten on the highway. Liz had only herself to blame for exhausting her. They’d spent the previous day exploring the park, which included a brief hike to prove Maggie’s leg had healed. Afterwards, she’d taken Maggie to an elegant, intimate dinner in one of Bar Harbor’s best restaurants, and followed that with a night of passionate lovemaking. It wasn’t going to be easy making up for those forty lost years, but Liz would happily try.

  Maggie awoke briefly. “I love you,” she murmured.

  “You’re besotted.”

  “I am. I adore you.” Maggie adjusted her seat and went back to sleep. She fell into such a stupor, she began to snore softly, which made Liz smile. In the early days of a relationship, everything seems charming, a new invitation to intimacy. Until the earplugs come out one night. In fact, there was little Liz didn’t know about how Maggie slept, including her ability to have whole conversations while sound sleep. There was no need to be on their best behavior. They’d already lived together and knew one another’s secrets.

  But not all of them.

  As Liz sped down I95, she wondered how to break the news. It had been difficult to keep her discovery to herself, but once she decided not to say anything, she couldn’t go back. Their Acadia weekend would have instantly turned into a disaster. At first, Liz was sure that keeping the information to herself had been the right thing to do, but as time passed, a little doubt had crept into her mind. No matter how she justified keeping the secret, she knew she’d lose Maggie’s trust if she delayed much longer.

  Maggie got a second wind when they arrived home and helped Liz unload the truck. They decided to leave all the camping gear in the garage until the next day, when Liz would be at home and could bring it in at her leisure. Only the refrigerated food needed to be put away. Once that was done, Liz opened a bottle of wine.

  Maggie sprawled on the sofa. “Oh, Liz, I had such a wonderful time. Acadia is as beautiful as you said, but…” She sighed deeply. “It’s so good to be home.”

  Liz savored the sound of the word coming from Maggie’s lips. She hated that she was about to spoil Maggie’s pleasure in the homecoming.

  She tried to organize her thoughts and decided that building a fire would be a good delaying tactic. She had it down to a science. First, she crumbled newspaper, then built a little structure over it with kindling on the bottom and small logs on top. She wound a few sheets of newspaper into a rope, held it under the flue and lit it with a match. After it burned, she touched a burning match to the newspaper under the kindling. It burst into flame and burned without smoke. Leaving the door partway open so the stove could draw air, Liz sat near the fire to make sure it was well established.

  “You’re so good at that,” Maggie said, watching. “You always get a roaring fire on the first try. When I made a fire in Connecticut, I always filled the house with smoke.”

  “The secret is warming the air in the flue to create a draft.”

  “So I see. How did you get to be so smart?”

  “I was born that way.”

  Maggie smiled. “Yes, I guess you were.”

  Liz picked up her wine glass and took a few swallows for fortification. “There’s something I have to tell you.” Unfortunately, her tone sounded more ominous than she’d intended.

  Maggie sat up straight. “I’m listening.”

  Liz felt Maggie’s anxious eyes on her, but couldn’t immediately find the words.

  “What is it, Liz? From the look on your face, it’s probably not something I want to hear.”

  Liz was wearing her neutral “doctor face,” so Maggie was exaggerating, but she was right about one thing. This was definitely not something she wanted to hear. No woman ever wanted to hear what Liz was about to say.

  “Well?” Maggie leaned forward a little.

  Liz took a deep breath. “You have a lump in your breast.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “I found a lump in your breast.”

  Maggie’s eyes shone with pure horror. Her hands began to tremble, but she managed to put down her wine glass before spilling red drops all over the carpet. “When did you find it?”

  “The first time we made love.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In your left breast.” Liz demonstrated by showing the location on her own breast. “Here.”

  “You found it while we were making love?”

  Liz nodded.

  “And you didn’t you tell me?” asked Maggie in an accusing voice.

  “I knew it would only upset you.”

  “You should have told me!” Maggie’s voice was shriller this time.

  “I know, but I didn’t.”

  Maggie got up and ran to her room. Liz winced when the door slammed. She waited a few moments before she got up and walked down the hall. She stared at the closed door. “Maggie, I’m sorry. It was selfish, I know. I didn’t want to spoil our weekend. I knew you’d be upset when I told you.”
<
br />   No response.

  Liz knocked softly. “I’m sorry.”

  This time the door opened.

  “Of course, I’m upset. My mother died of breast cancer. I’m not just upset. I’m terrified!”

  Liz took a deep breath. “I know you’re scared. Everyone is scared to find a lump. It could be nothing but a cyst. Not all lumps are cancer. Even if it is, it’s very small. Many breast cancers are indolent and never become dangerous.”

  “Listen to you, standing there, sounding like a doctor.”

  “I am a doctor.” Liz raised her open hands. “How else should I sound?”

  “Don’t be such an idiot, Liz Stolz. Hold me!”

  Liz took her in her arms and Maggie began to sob. Liz held her tighter, stroking her hair and her back to soothe her. Maggie leaned into her and held on tight, pressing her closer until there was no space at all between them.

  In all, the crying bout lasted a good five minutes. When it was over, Liz fetched the box of tissues from Maggie’s bed stand. Maggie’s mascara had run and dabbing her eyes just made it worse. “Excuse me.” She ran into the bathroom.

  Liz sank down on the bed, digging at her forehead with her fingertips out of pure frustration. No matter how she’d delivered the bad news, it would have been wrong. At least, Maggie had enjoyed the camping trip and had a few more days without worry. It made perfect sense to Liz, although she knew from years of dealing with breast cancer patients, none of this had anything to do with sense.

  Maggie remained in the bathroom for some time. Liz finally got tired of waiting and returned to the living room and her glass of wine. She finished it, but it left her flat, even though it was excellent wine. Maybe I should have told her right away. She answered her own thought aloud. “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think. That part’s true.”

  Liz looked up to see Maggie. She had taken off all her makeup. Without it, she looked pale but in Liz’s eyes, still beautiful.

  “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “Is that how you want to remember the first time we made love in forty years?”

  “No, of course not.” Maggie sat down on the sofa and nudged her way under Liz’s arm. “You knew. How could you keep it to yourself? What a burden that must have been for you.” Maggie stroked Liz’s thigh, which Liz took as a sign of forgiveness. “That’s why you were so moody after we made love. And when I caught you unawares and you looked distracted. You were thinking about it.”

  “Yes.”

  “How could you stand it?”

  “Doctors learn to keep secrets.”

  Maggie was quiet for a long moment. “You must be scared too.” She took Liz’s hand and held it tight.

  Liz did a quick scan of her emotions, something she rarely did when medical issues were involved, but this was different. The patient was her lover, and that changed everything. Even so, it was easier to default to detachment. In no case, would she admit to any fears she had until she knew more. “No use getting scared before we know the facts. I’ll save my anxiety for when we determine how serious it is.”

  “How serious is it?”

  “I can’t say without examining you, which I wasn’t about to do during sex.”

  “But you tried.” Maggie gently pounded Liz’s knee with her fist.

  “It was that obvious?”

  “One thing you’re not, Liz Stolz, is subtle. But I didn’t realize you’d found something until now.” Maggie sat up and cupped her breasts with her hands. “Where is it? I never felt anything.”

  Liz took Maggie’s fingers and placed it over the spot. “There. Feel it now?” Maggie snatched her hand away like she’d touched fire.

  “May I examine you?” Liz asked gently.

  Maggie stared at her with alarm. Then a look of resignation came into her eyes and she nodded. She pulled her top over her head and unhooked her bra.

  Liz entered the mental space where her fingertips could see. She carefully examined each breast and the armpit nodes. Fortunately, she found only the original lump.

  “There’s only one lump, and it’s small, about the size of a cherry pit.” Liz pinched her fingers together to demonstrate the size. “We’ll need a mammogram to see if there are smaller lumps I can’t feel. When was your last mammogram?”

  “I don’t remember. Three, maybe four years ago.”

  “Maggie! With your family history?”

  “I know. It was stupid, but there was so much going on. I just forgot.”

  “Where was it done?”

  “NYU Medical. I got free healthcare there.”

  “I’ll call tomorrow to get your last mammogram. We can go to Southern Med. I know the breast radiologist there. She’ll read it right away.” Liz handed Maggie her top and bra and kissed her. “Let’s forget about this for a while. What do you want to do about dinner? There’s not much in the house.”

  “I don’t feel like eating.”

  “I understand, but you need to eat, and so do I. Let’s go out. I don’t really feel like cooking.”

  “You know what I feel like doing? Fucking. I’m miserable, and I want to feel good again.” Maggie reached up and gently touched the little pucker that had formed between Liz’s brows. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s how I feel.”

  Liz took her hand. “Okay, let’s go upstairs.”

  Once the door closed to the elevator, Maggie began to kiss her so passionately that Liz forgot to press the button for the third floor. They stood there for a long time, tongue kissing like two adolescents until Liz finally realized the elevator hadn’t moved and pressed the button to go up. Maggie slid her hand down Liz’s jeans as the elevator rose.

  “It doesn’t take much for you, does it?”

  Liz smiled. “I’m not like this for every woman.” The door opened. “But I can’t walk with your hand in my pants.”

  Maggie withdrew her hand and suggestively sucked her fingers, which made Liz want to kiss her again. While she did, she held the elevator door open by pure force.

  They shed their clothes on the way. Flannel shirts and jeans made a colorful trail to the bed. Liz almost tripped balancing on one foot to pull off her sock. She ripped off the duvet, and they flopped into a heap, lips pressed together, hands roaming everywhere.

  Maggie took the lead. Liz loved it when she became a lioness. It always came as such a shock when she burst into her body taking exactly what she wanted. That juxtaposed against the delicate touch of her lips and tongue could drive her to distraction. Liz was disappointed that she came so quickly, but it allowed her to focus on Maggie’s needs, who had clearly demonstrated by example how she wanted to be loved in return. She moaned loudly when she came, gripping Liz’s shoulders with her fingers like pincers.

  Then came the deluge. Liz knew to expect it. Women had a wide variety of responses to discovering a lump in their breasts: alarm, stoicism, anger, bravado, terror, but inevitably, it always ended in tears. When Maggie began to sob, Liz cradled her against her shoulder and stroked her hair until the sobs devolved into sniffles.

  “Will I lose my breasts?” Maggie’s voice was mournful.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions. It’s just a tiny lump. In one breast. We don’t even know what it is yet.”

  “But you’re concerned.”

  “A breast lump is always a concern, but it could turn out to be nothing. Every woman’s breasts are lumpy, full of mountains and valleys. We just don’t think about them that way.”

  “But my mother–”

  “Maggie, you’re not your mother. Even if you share a gene mutation, it doesn’t mean you’ll get breast cancer. And it doesn’t mean the lump I found is cancer. Let’s just wait and see. All right?”

  Maggie began to cry again. Liz gathered her close. This was going to b
e a long night. It wasn’t that she was unsympathetic, but she had been through this with many women and knew what to expect. Of course, none of them had been her lover, which complicated everything. She suddenly had new compassion for the partners of her breast surgery patients.

  Liz was suddenly filled with overwhelming anger. Its source was diffuse. She was always angry when it came to cancer, angry because it stole so many young lives, angry because it caused so much pain and suffering, and especially angry because sometimes, no matter what she did, cancer won. She was also furious at the injustice of it. She had waited forty years for Maggie, and now this.

  If Liz thought about it too much, she wanted to scream, throw things and cry. Instead, she would roll up the anger and store it for a time when she had more privacy. The last thing she wanted to do was transmit her negative feelings to Maggie, who needed all the positive energy she could get.

  “Liz, I love you.”

  “I love you too,” said Liz, hugging her closer. “What do you say, I go downstairs and defrost some of that beef barley soup I made last week?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You have to eat. I have to eat.”

  “Okay.”

  Liz got dressed and went downstairs. It was actually a relief to have a moment alone. Mechanically, she prepared their dinner. While she patiently waited for the microwave to defrost the containers of soup, she heated some frozen sourdough rolls in the oven. She leaned against the counter while she made plans for the mammogram and needle biopsy. She could justify involving herself in the testing, but she would recuse herself from any treatments. They were too close now that they were lovers.

  She could probably do the biopsy the next day. She’d take Maggie to Southern Med. If necessary, she could even do it in the office, but she liked to have imaging available to guide the needle—less risk of causing unnecessary injury or pain.

  Focusing on planning the tests was easier than allowing her own feelings to seep into her mind and dampen her energy. She needed to be cheerful and strong for Maggie. Drawing on her training in detachment was the best way to maintain her equilibrium. She’d spoken the truth when she’d told Maggie it could be nothing. Just a cyst. How many lumps had Liz removed that were perfectly benign? Fortunately, many. But Liz had a bad feeling about this one based on nothing but gut instinct and that worried her. A physician’s uncanny sixth sense was too often right. Dead right.