Pining & Loving

by Emma Sterner-Radley

  On the table next to her lay the elegant box containing the overpriced perfume.

  “You only live once,” she said, echoing Aya’s words.

  She picked up the phone and made the call.

  “Good morning, shug.”

  Aya’s voice gave Gwen a helpful jolt. “Hi. How did the class go last night?”

  “Great! I was going to text you, but I didn’t know if you were sleeping. How are you, by the way?”

  “I’m… not as bad as I have been. Which is why I’m calling. Do you have plans for today?”

  “Nope. Have anything in mind?”

  “I was thinking about what we said yesterday, about going to Chester.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mm. I wish I could go today. I need a change of scenery.” Gwen toyed with the perfume box, feeling bad for once again complicating things. “The problem is that I’m not really presentable and I’m not sure I have the energy to be around people.”

  Aya hummed. “Well, there’s an obvious solution.”

  “There is?”

  “Yep. We take Janet to Chester and just drive around. That way you don’t have to get out of the jeep, and no one will really see you.”

  Relief washed over Gwen. “Yes, that’s a brilliant idea!”

  “Cool, I can look for a boost gift for you there, too. Some exotic honey or something.”

  “No need. The trip will be my boost.”

  Aya hummed again. “You sure?”

  “Positive. It’ll be an adventure. There’s no bigger boost than a spontaneous adventure.”

  “Okay, how about we go to a drive-through on the way and pick up hot drinks and snacks?”

  “Perfect!”

  “Right, I’ll be over in about half an hour, gotta wait for the laundry to finish and then hang it. See you soon.”

  “Great. Thank you so much. I’ll see you then,” Gwen said and ended the call.

  She brushed a few stray strands from her forehead. It was only then that she realised how badly she needed to wash her hair.

  Dammit. Do I have energy for that?

  Even if she stayed in the jeep, Aya would still see her. Besides, she wanted her hair to smell fresh. She got in the shower, planning how to do this using minimal amounts of her tiny allowance of energy.

  When the hot water hit her skin, it relaxed her muscles, rigid from lack of use, and soothed her mind. She had soaked her hair and opened the bottle of vanilla-scented shampoo when her phone rang. She was going to ignore it, but it kept ringing. It could be Aya calling to cancel or something like that.

  She put the shampoo back, got out, and grabbed her robe. When she located her phone, the caller wasn’t Aya but the owner of the café, the wife this time.

  Gwen answered it. About five minutes into the call she leaned against the wall and sank down to the floor. She was polite and didn’t cause trouble; after all, she’d known this might happen and understood. She hadn’t been fired, of course, but she might as well have been.

  When the call ended, she covered her face and sobbed. There were no more silent tears, this was proper bawling her eyes out. She cried all the tears that had stacked up inside her until her wet face hurt and she had to crawl to get some tissue. Water had pooled where she sat, but she didn’t care. She stayed in the puddle of shower water and tears as a new wave of crying hit.

  When there was a knock on the door, Gwen considered not answering it. She had wanted to wash her hair to look her best for Aya. What would she look like now?

  She’s seen you at your worst, remember? Open the damn door. It’s Aya. Open for her.

  She dragged herself up.

  Aya frowned when she saw her. “Gwen! What’s wrong?”

  “My boss called. They had to give my shifts to a new employee.”

  Aya burst in. “What?! They can’t fire you!”

  Gwen wrapped her robe closer around herself, seeking comfort. “No, they can’t, and they wouldn’t. They’re just a nice, elderly couple trying to get by. But they talked about needing some sort of document from my doctor, then said they’d been forced to temporarily replace me.”

  Aya stepped farther into the hallway. “And when you come back, what happens then? Is this new person just hired during your sick leave?”

  Gwen looked away. “I’m not officially on sick leave. That’s what the document was for. I should’ve filled in paperwork to get sick pay and such.”

  “Why didn’t you, shug?”

  “I couldn’t. It’s… well, burying your head in the sand, even when everything is collapsing around you, is common with depressed people.” Shame overwhelmed her. “I messed up, Aya, and now they’re in trouble and disappointed with me. My boss sounded so upset on the phone, like she didn’t want me back. This is one too many unofficial depression sick leaves. They’ll ask me to quit this time.”

  “That’s a lot of assumptions. Do you want me to call them back and get answers?”

  “No.” Tears lined her eyelids again, making it hard to see. “I want… I’d like you to…”

  Aya moved closer. “What? Name it? I’ll do anything.”

  “I’d like you to hold me,” Gwen said quietly. She regretted it the second she heard the words resounding in the small hallway.

  “Of course,” Aya answered.

  There was no hesitation or surprise. Aya simply closed the distance between them and wrapped Gwen in a tight, warm hug.

  Gwen bent so she could burrow her face into the crook of her shorter friend’s neck. She flung her arms around Aya and held on for dear life. Aya smelled fresh, of the outside air, but it was the underlying scent of her skin that calmed Gwen.

  She cried, teardrops trickling down Aya’s waxed jacket. She thought she was out of tears, but the last few weeks of desolation and numbness had apparently built up layers upon layers of them.

  Aya simply held her, caressing her back in comforting circles. When Gwen got too embarrassed, she forced the sobs down and stepped back. She turned so Aya wouldn’t have to watch her blow her nose and then muttered, “You know, I didn’t even get the chance to wash my damn hair!”

  Aya laughed softly. “Well, your hair isn’t going anywhere, shug. You can wash it later.”

  “I wanted to wash it before we went out.” Gwen held up a hand to stop any reply. “I know we said we wouldn’t get out of the jeep. I still wanted it to be clean.”

  “Hey, I get that. As someone who works out in a grubby, old gym every day, I take great pride and joy in showering every bloody chance I get,” Aya said with a chuckle.

  Gwen tried to smile. “Well, I don’t need a full shower. I washed this morning. I was going to clean my hair right before that call, but that went to hell. Now I’m bone tired.”

  Aya shuffled her feet. “Um, I… could help,” she suggested hesitantly. “If you lean your head over the sink, I could wash it for you?”

  “What? No. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  Aya appeared more confident now, more convinced. “You didn’t. I offered, and it would be kinda rude of you to say no.” She grinned. “You know, it would be like questioning my ability to wash hair. I may be butch, but I do actually have more hair than you. I shampoo like a boss.”

  Gwen couldn’t dispute that. She made a mental note to remember this moment so she could truly enjoy it when the depression retreated enough for her to laugh again.

  “Then I won’t say no. After all, I don’t want to be rude.”

  “All right, one shampoo and conditioning treatment coming up!”

  “My hair is short and oily enough to not need conditioner, so we can save time there.”

  “Cool!” Aya paused. “In that case, get that bottle of blue hair dye I bought. I read the instructions in the store. It seemed pretty quick and easy; I can dye your tips, then wash your hair.”

  Gwen staggered. “Y-you’d do that for me?”

  “Sure, that’s what friends do, right? Wouldn’t Charlotte do that for you?”

 
“Yes, but we’ve known each other for ages.”

  “Well then, I need catch up by doing loads of intense friendship stuff. Go get the shampoo and the hair dye. I’ll grab a chair from the kitchen for you to sit on.”

  She marched off, all resolution and practicality.

  Gwen rolled her tense shoulders, trying to let go of all worries about being a bother. She’d let Aya make the decisions today.

  It was only when the dyeing was done and Aya was massaging shampoo into her hair that Gwen relaxed. She took in the scent of vanilla filling the room, trying to calm her breaths. The sensation of practised fingers caressing her scalp and running through her tresses, was wonderful. She’d thought Aya would be awkward and want to get this over fast, but she took all the time and care in the world to make sure everything was done correctly and gently.

  It was impressive that Aya not only managed to dye the tips without getting blue on anything else, but also managed to not get shampoo in Gwen’s eyes. She did however, somehow, manage to flick some up into her own. This was followed by two minutes of her jumping up and down like a cartoon character and cursing the shampoo, the shampoo manufacturers, and the water that had caused the foam to splash. Then she’d laughed and said, “Sorry, sometimes the quick temper I inherited from my dad flares up. Never lasts long, though.”

  That was another memory that Gwen stored away for a day when she could laugh at it, like Aya had. She also stored it away to one day tease Aya about it.

  When Gwen had tousled some hair products into her hair, Aya said, “That’s all sorted, then. It can dry in the car, just get some clothes on. Unless you want to skip the drive?”

  “No, I need the distraction.”

  “Brilliant.” Aya clapped her hands. “Chester road trip time, guaranteed without getting out of the jeep.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Making Her Stagger and Sway

  The next day, Aya stood outside Gwen’s door with a mind full of doubts. The road trip yesterday had turned out to be fun and laidback. Meanwhile, this was all too prearranged, she thought as she reconsidered the blanket and basket by her feet.

  She stopped her brain and dredged up her newfound confidence. She could hold classes on a moment’s notice, she could sure as hell get through this. She squared her shoulders and knocked.

  Gwen opened right away. She was dressed. In actual clothes. Her hair was styled, too. And was that a little make-up? Gwen still looked as exhausted as a losing boxer after twelve rounds, but she was closer to resembling the woman Aya had first met in the café.

  “Hey. Wow! You look healthier today.”

  “Thanks. You’re flawless as always.” Gwen took a step back to look her over. “Is this the first time I’ve seen you wear your hair down? I didn’t realise how long it was. Or how shiny!”

  “Don’t change the topic. We were talking about how great you look.”

  “Right.” Gwen cast her gaze down. “Thanks again. I’ve been less shattered. I’ve even done some boxing.” To demonstrate, she shadowboxed in the cutest, most incorrect way, like a child pretending to be Muhammad Ali.

  Aya swallowed her laughter while Gwen let her in.

  “Brilliant, duck! I’m happy you’re feeling better.” Aya adjusted her grip on the basket and blanket. “I suppose that means I should’ve asked if you wanted to do this outside. Never mind, though; I brought it here now.”

  Gwen touched the blanket. “What’s all this?’

  “Um, since our trip to Chester yesterday showed that doing things without you needing to be in public worked, I figured we’d have a picnic. But indoors.”

  “A picnic?”

  Suddenly defensive, Aya hurried to hang up her jacket so Gwen couldn’t see her face. “Yes, that’s a thing that people do, isn’t it? Something friends do?”

  Gwen came over to her. “Absolutely, it’s a great idea. Thank you. I just didn’t know you were the picnic type.”

  Aya went into the living room to put the basket and blanket down next to the sofa. “I like to eat and to be outside. That’s a picnic. Well, I mean this one will be inside, but you get my point.” Her discomfort echoed in her voice. She didn’t want to be teased right now.

  Without another word, Gwen kneeled in front of Aya and began spreading the blanket out on the floor. When she looked up, those beautiful and oh so expressive blue eyes made Aya stagger backwards. Only a step or two, of course. She was no weakling.

  “Well? Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to open that basket and help, woman?” Gwen asked with a hint of a smile and a quirked eyebrow.

  Aya’s mouth was dry. Strange.

  “Yeah, um, I think I’m getting thirsty. I packed a bottle of cucumber water, but if you want your teeth-rotting honeyed tea, I can put the kettle on?”

  “Water’s fine. I’ll fish out the cucumber and give it to Meatloaf.”

  Aya crouched next to her and began unpacking the contents of the basket. “I didn’t buy plastic cutlery since we’re trying to save the planet. Go fetch some forks, woman,” she said, echoing Gwen’s teasing from before.

  Gwen bumped her shoulder with her own, making Aya sway until she stabilized on her hands and knees.

  “What?” Aya said with a laugh. “Woman is the best title in the world, not an insult. Not when you and I say it, anyway.”

  Gwen bumped her again, more softly this time. “Agreed. We finally found something we won’t quibble about.”

  Aya moved in closer, ready to shoulder-bump Gwen back. “What? You’re not going to argue with me?”

  “No. For once, you’re not wrong. Besides, you’re the one who usually argues.”

  Aya was about to dispute that when her phone rang from her jacket pocket in the hall. “I’ll go get that. You fetch those forks.”

  “Fetch? What am I, a Labrador?” Gwen said before heading to the kitchen.

  Aya found her phone, then froze and stared at the name on the screen. ‘Tom from Explore.’ This was the call.

  “H-hello?”

  “Hi. Is that Aya speaking?”

  Her heart jack-hammered in her chest. “Yes. Hm. Yes, this is Aya Lawson. Sorry.”

  “Great, Tom Ballard here. I’m calling with good news. I’d like to offer you the position as admin assistant.”

  Aya put a steadying hand against the wall. “Really?”

  “Yes. I take that as that you accept? We still need to iron out the details of your starting date and contract and such, but I wanted to call with the good news right away.”

  “Yes, I accept! Thank you for telling me.” She swallowed. “Thank you so much.”

  “Thank you for fitting Explore’s requirements so perfectly,” he answered. “I’ll call you tomorrow so we can discuss further if that’s convenient?”

  “Y-yes! That would be brilliant.”

  “Excellent. I’ll ring again tomorrow morning, then.”

  “Yes, please do. I look forward to hearing from you. Bye.” Aya hung up and then punched the air. “Gwen! I got the bloody job!”

  Gwen raced into the hallway with a speed that Aya hadn’t seen since their first trip to Chester. “Woohoo! I knew you would! Right, celebration time! I’m getting out a bottle of gin. And the chocolate biscuits. And Charlotte’s fancy ice cream. Let’s have every celebration we can think of!”

  “Yes,” Aya croaked, too lost for words to say more.

  Her heart was so full; her mind was so giddy. She was going to celebrate her pants off!

  Through the haze of joy and relief, she realised that Gwen’s clanking in the kitchen was slowing down from its earlier speed. Her energy and positive emotions were fading.

  Oh, well. When Gwen’s depression gets the best of her, we’ll celebrate by resting together on the sofa again.

  After all, there was no bigger treat than seeing that pretty face relaxed in sleep.

  * * *

  In the evening, Aya was back home, watching TV with her parents. A text vibrated her phone, and Aya p
ulled it out of her pocket, happy to be distracted from the documentary about Plexiglas that her mother had decided they had to watch.

  The text was from Gwen and read:

  Hey you! I was practising my right hook but it’s rubbish and makes me nearly fall over. Am I just too weak or am I doing it wrong? xx

  Aya smiled at her screen for a moment before replying.

  Hiya duck. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I have an hour or so before I have to go spar with Jenny. Do you want me to drop by and give you some quick pointers? xx

  The reply came in fast, a resounding yes! Aya wasted no time; she texted back that she was on her way and said goodbye to her parents. It would’ve been nice if they had asked where she was going, but they just said goodbye and focused back on the documentary.

  When she parked Janet on the road below Gwen’s flat, a call came in. She answered it, and before she had time to say hello, Bill barked, “Where are ya, kid?”

  She got out of the jeep. “I’m at Gwen’s. Why?”

  “You’re supposed to be sparring!”

  “No. We said 8:30.” She checked her fitness watch as she walked. “It’s 7:41 now.”

  “Oh.” His accusing tone dissolved. “Shit. I must’ve gotten my times mixed up. Okay, forget it. See you at 8:30.”

  Aya was about to tease him for the mistake when he added, “Hey, you being at Gwen’s reminds me: when you get here, we’ve gotta talk about something she and I cooked up.”

  “The two of you?” She stopped. “Can’t you tell me now?”

  “Well, I was hoping to tell her first since it was her idea, but I suppose I can start with you and then you can pass on the news.”

  When he’d finished explaining the offer and said goodbye, Aya whooped with triumph, hung up, and ran up the stairs to Gwen, not even caring that she left her hoodie in the car.