Home Again

by Christine L'Amour

  She thought about the two kittens Steph hadn’t even named yet, and how she’d offered to take one. It was so simple, for the other woman. She’d found them on the street and took them in. Erika wished it were that simple, that she could just get herself a dog, tell her parents she didn’t want to own the restaurant, buy another house. Buy a fish, if that was all she could get.

  …the local shelter had a website, didn’t it? Erika was pretty sure it had.

  She shouldn’t just go and get a dog. It would be irresponsible to just go out and get a dog out of nowhere.

  Her phone was right beside her, though. It wouldn’t hurt to check it out.

  Chapter Seven

  Steph went to Jay’s house for the first time to drop off the cats. He introduced her to his wife, showed Steph a seat, and sent her pointed looks while he brewed some coffee, cats at his feet.

  “Ok, yes, we’re dating!” Steph finally exploded, throwing her hands up. “We’re dating, Jay! I admitted it. Somehow, I’m dating Erika McCall.”

  “Back in my day,” he told her without turning around from his coffee machine, “I do that kind of thing on my front porch, my father expels me from the damn house, girl!”

  “It’s my damn house, Jay!”

  His wife laughed at them.

  ***

  The trip was exhausting. Steph drove all the way home in her old car, all alone and very hungry, since she hadn’t been smart enough to pack snacks. Erika kissed her softly before she went and asked her, seriously, to come back soon. The memory kept Steph very much occupied on the long drive.

  There was someone waiting for her, now.

  When the eight hours passed, and she was finally home, though, she was tired and cranky enough not even the memory of Erika saved her. She parked her car in her usual spot, across the street from her parents’ little apartment building, which looked exactly the same. Even though Steph felt like she’d moved out a lifetime ago, it looked the same, with its red bricks and few floors, Mom’s small Argentinian flag glued to the living room window.

  She couldn’t quite figure out what she felt, looking at that flag. Home, she thought. This had been her home all her life—and yet.

  She grabbed her bags and walked in. She still had the keys—of course she had, she’d moved out such a short couple of months ago. Her Dad answered the door when she knocked, but it was her Mom who swept her up in a bone-crushing hug, who wailed about how long the trip had taken, how much she missed Steph.

  Steph clung back, letting her bag fall heavily to the floor. Her mom smelled like cigarettes and spices and Steph had missed her, she’d missed her so much. Her Dad wasn’t about to be stopped and just hugged them both, put his arms around his wife and daughter both.

  Steph heard Suzannah laugh, and when she looked over her mom’s shoulder her big sis was lounging on the couch, grinning at them. Her husband Charles was beside her, his smile softer.

  “Hey, Steph,” Charlie said.

  “Hey, baby sister,” Suz greeted, lifting a hand. “You’re just in time for dinner.”

  “It’s 6pm!” Steph argued and untangled herself from her parents. Dad kept a hand around her waist, though, as Mom wiped her eyes and bent down to pick up Stephanie’s bag.

  “Yeah, but you didn’t eat anything on the road, did you?”

  Steph only pursed her lips. People laughed, happy, and Steph went to sit beside her sister, snuggle into her side on the couch. She scooted down on the couch until she could put her head on Suz’s shoulder; Steph was short, but her sister was impossibly shorter. Charles could fit his wife perfectly under his chin.

  …Erika could do the same with Steph, if they tried.

  “Get up from that couch, Steph, come have dinner,” Dad said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Mom made your favorite.”

  Steph smiled up at him and tried not to think about having to go back to her big, sprawling, empty house.

  ***

  She didn’t particularly like Alfred, her boss, but when they shook hands he gave her a reassuring smile that made her feel better about the whole being fired thing. If nothing else, he seemed to value her work, or else he wouldn’t have called her here, right?

  “Please, Stephanie, sit down,” he said, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. He sat down as well. “I’m glad you managed to come. I know you moved not too long ago.”

  Steph smiled. “The kind of work I do allows it, but I knew I’d have to make the trip sometimes.”

  “Yes.” He sighed. “Steph… I’m sorry about the whole firing thing. Everyone is unhappy about it; you know we’ve been growing, we were all expecting raises—”

  “Yes,” Steph said, looking down. “Life happens, though.”

  “Life happens,” he repeated with a nod. He clasped his hands together. “Look, the higher ups may not care that much, but for me who deals with the editors first-hand, you’re one of the best. You’re good, you always respect the deadlines, you’re polite. I really don’t want to lose you. I know I asked you to come here to talk about your shift to freelancer, but—”

  “I’d love to not make the shift to freelancer,” Steph was quick to say.

  “Yes, that’s what I wanted to talk about.” Alfred pointed at her. “I have a proposition. You won’t like it, I don’t think, but please think about it.”

  Oh boy.

  “If it’s about my salary—”

  “No, it wouldn’t go down,” Alfred reassured. “It would go up. You’d be given more responsibility, more work, though you’d get first pick of which manuscripts you wanted to work on. You’d get an office here, and some other stuff—the point is, you’d get promoted, but you’d have to move back here.”

  Stephanie stared at him.

  “…oh,” she managed when he just kept looking at her, waiting for a reaction.

  He sighed. “I know that you just moved away. I’d be willing to…keep things on hold, hold it together for a few months while you get your things sorted out. Truth is, the man who used to hold this position has just quit for family reasons, and I thought you’d be the best choice.”

  But Steph would have to move back.

  The no was on the tip of her tongue, but Steph couldn’t quite get it out. She did not want to lose the security she had right now, which she’d lose if she became a freelancer. She’d get promoted—that meant more money, more recognition for her work. More work itself—but she would be glad to have something to distract her from Pedro’s death.

  But she had distractions already. She had her house, the yard she was slowly cleaning so she could plant her vegetable garden. She had her cats, she had Erika and Jay. That was her new life, not the one she wanted but still one she’d fought for. She hadn’t—jumped into things, been stupid, reactionary. She knew what she was doing when she’d moved.

  She’d wanted it for so long. They had.

  Still, when she opened her mouth what came out was:

  “If you can give me at least a week or so, I… I’ll think about it.”

  ***

  When Steph got to Donald’s street he was outside walking Eddie, and it was the easiest thing in the world to shout in his direction and throw herself at his arms. He barely caught her. She hugged him tight enough to break his ribs and when they drew apart he put his hands on her cheeks, took a good look at her bright eyes and her even more sun-kissed face, and started to cry.

  “Look at how much lighter your hair is!” he shouted, hugging her again. “Your face is all tanned and red! Didn’t your mother teach you to wear sunscreen?”

  “Shut up,” Steph said, her smile so wide her cheeks hurt. “That’s make up, I’m definitely not burned. Anywhere.”

  “Jesus,” Don said, looking down. He wiped a hand over his face, drying his tears. “How did you burn your feet, Steph? Only you.”

  Steph laughed, shrugged, and finally bent down to give Eddie the attention he’d been demanding. He was a medium sized mix, not recognizably anything. He was old and greying
and had chronic issues in all his joints.

  “Baby boy,” Steph cooed, squatting by him.

  Don punched her shoulder, complained about favoritism, and led her to his apartment.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” he asked. “Man, I’d have—I don’t know. I’d have had something to look forward to, at least.”

  “Honestly, after I told my parents I figured the entire city would learn at one point or another,” Steph said with a grin, but actually she’d wanted to surprise him. “I’m not staying for long, I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  “Why’d you come, though?” He unlocked his door and ushered her in. “I thought you said you wouldn’t come here so soon.”

  Steph grimaced. Don didn’t need to know what had really happened, she thought. It’d just stress him out. He already had so many problems in his life, Steph had no business adding to them with her stupid life.

  “My boss called me here. Nothing bad happened!” she rushed to reassure at the scared expression on his face. “Everything’s just fine, you know I’d have to come back sometimes. My job’s great but it can’t be all online.”

  “Uh-huh,” Donald said, unamused. “Nothing happened? Nothing at all? Look me in the eyes and tell me he didn’t tell you to come here to talk to you about anything important.”

  Stephanie grimaced and hoped he wouldn’t see, since he was busy going to the kitchen to grab some snack.

  “Out with it, Stephanie Esperanza, I swear to god if you—”

  “It’s nothing!” Steph told him, throwing herself on his couch. “You don’t have to worry, okay? Everything’s all fine, I don’t want you to be all stressed about it—”

  “I’m stressing about it right now!”

  “You don’t need to!”

  “Pedro’s not here anymore for you to talk to,” Donald said, sad but firm. “I can’t just let you deflect things anymore, Steph, now that I don’t have the reassurance that you definitely talked to him about whatever’s happening.”

  Steph winced back, shoulders drawing in.

  “Nothing’s happening,” she said.

  “No? Did you tell your parents why you were really here, or did you just wave your hand and said something vague about work stuff?”

  “Drop it,” she told him, closing her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it, and I’m not going to.”

  He dropped it, looking away. He sighed and grabbed cookies from a cupboard and made his way to the couch.

  Steph kicked off her flip-flops and drew her knees up to her chest. If Pedro were here he’d card his fingers through her messy hair then slap the back of her head, tell her to get over it.

  …Pedro was always right, even when he was just in her head, no matter how much anxiety squeezed her lungs at the thought of troubling Don for nothing.

  “They’ve been cutting costs back at Natyurally,” she mumbled, voice muffled. “They’re going to fire me and hire me as a freelancer.”

  “Oh,” Don said, then: “Shit. Steph, you—”

  “It’s not that bad—”

  “Why would they—”

  “My pay would go up, if anything! And Alfred likes me, so you know he’d be cool with me. And—“ She lifted her head, and rubbed her hands over her face. “He offered me a promotion. Pay would go up, more work, more responsibility—but I’d have to move back here.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Oh,” Don said, very softly. “And you’re…”

  “I’m not,” she said. “I won’t.”

  “No?”

  “No,” Steph said very firmly, and didn’t tell Don she’d told Alfred she’d think about it.

  Chapter Eight

  Erika sat sprawled over the loveseat on her front porch with Luke entirely on top of her and felt peace. The dog was a stray, straw-colored and of no discernable breed, but he was the sweetest, most loveable dog she’d ever seen, and she sat with him and didn’t even care about all the comments her family would make. She had him on a leash, but she wasn’t worried. He loved her and he wouldn’t leave her lap.

  She hugged him and closed her eyes and forgot about the book she had intended to read. She didn’t notice Stephanie as she arrived with her car, stared at her, parked it at her house a few streets away, and walked back. It was only when she stood away from Erika, cleared her throat and said: “Hi?” that Erika’s eyes snapped open.

  Stephanie stood in front of her, looking tired and stressed and beautiful.

  “You’re back,” Erika said, feeling a smile warm up her face.

  “I leave for two days and you get a dog?” Stephanie asked. She lifted her eyebrows but smiled. “I didn’t know you’d miss me that much, Erika.”

  “Oh, it was awful,” Erika said with a laugh. She straightened up and gestured for Steph to sit beside her. “I thought you’d arrive later, though! I was going to be all nice and make you some food.”

  “I left earlier than I’d planned. And I won’t complain if you still want to make me food, I’ll just be passed out on the couch while you do it,” Steph said with a sigh. She sat down beside Erika very close, their shoulders touching, and hesitantly pet Luke. He snuffled at her hand. It was adorable. Erika wanted to take a picture, keep the image.

  Erika put an arm around her shoulders, slowly so Steph could stop her if she wanted to—but she moved closer, and put her cheek on Erika’s shoulder.

  “If you make me dinner, will that count as our date?” she asked, eyes on Luke.

  “Sure. But don’t worry, I’ll ask you on another one almost immediately after.”

  Steph laughed and didn’t seem so tired anymore.

  ***

  It was good that Steph fell asleep on her weird old couch as soon as they walked in, since then she couldn’t see how much Erika grimaced when she entered her kitchen. She had barely any pans, much less more specialized tools, and Erika toed past Steph to go to her house get some of her own things.

  She didn’t know what Steph liked, but lasagna was easy to make and pretty universal, Erika thought, so she went about doing that. She had the ingredients in her home, which she had to leave again to get, since Steph’s fridge was empty.

  That made sense. She’d just travelled to another state, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave anything in her fridge.

  It had just been a couple of days, though. Or maybe Steph was just the kind of person who ate out a lot…

  Erika shook her head, trying to rid it of useless thoughts.

  It didn’t take long to make the lasagna. Erika took it out of the oven, set Steph’s small table, and only then went to wake the woman up, her hand soft on her shoulder. Steph woke up slowly, easily, even though Erika had expected her to startle, like she startled at everything. She blinked up at Erika, stretching on the couch. Her shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of stomach.

  “Hey,” Erika murmured.

  “It’s dark,” Steph mumbled, lifting a hand to rub at one eye. “I slept too much… oh, man, what’s this smell?”

  “Lasagna,” Erika told her, kneeling more comfortably by the couch. She looked away from that stomach. They weren’t close enough she’d have permission to touch it, yet, not so casually. “It’s okay, it was nice to just stay here and cook. My house—I was happier here.”

  Stephanie just looked at her, eyelids heavy.

  “I’m glad,” she murmured. “I’m—I’m sorry you did all the work alone, though. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, just to nap. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Erika told her. She cupped Steph’s cheek in a hand. Steph was apparently too sleepy still to be her usual shy self; she sighed, relaxed against the cushions. “I’m showing you how well I protect and provide.”

  Steph laughed, and Erika kissed her to tease the laugh off of her lips. Steph kissed her back sweetly, warm like a lazy cat, and reached up to put her hands on Erika’s shoulders, then around her neck. Erika let her hand trail down until she could set it on that strip of skin between her shir
t and her jeans, and she felt Steph’s stomach flutter.

  Steph tugged at the elastic holding the end of Erika’s braid interrupting their kiss just long enough to tug at it until it came off, then set about loosening Erika’s hair until it fell around them like a curtain. Erika shivered at her touch, at the way she tugged at her scalp and messaged her hair.

  “You like it loose?” she murmured.

  “Yeah,” Steph whispered, face red.

  “I’ll keep it loose for you,” Erika promised, and lowered her mouth to kiss her again.

  Stephanie’s lips were full and soft, naturally moist unlike Erika’s, on which she had to put chapstick all the time. It was impossible for her not to compare her to Luciana—but it wasn’t bad, it wasn’t sad, it was something new and different and lovely. There had been love with Luciana once and there was love here, too, or at least there could be, and it made Stephanie taste all the sweeter to Erika.

  Steph hummed against her lips, content.

  “The food,” she tried, but didn’t even open her eyes, kept them closed as Erika kissed a path from her mouth to her neck. She softened her lips around the areas Steph was burned, which were as uneven as they were endearing. Maybe next time she went gardening she’d let Erika put sunscreen on her.

  “It can wait,” Erika murmured, splaying her hand over her stomach. Her fingers spread under her shirt, where her skin was soft and warm, where Erika wanted to kiss—and Steph breathed out a harsher breath, eyes opening to look at Erika.

  “It can wait,” she repeated, then glanced away before firmly bringing her eyes back. “Can…can it?”

  Erika had to laugh, touching her forehead to Stephanie’s. Steph blushed, her face absolutely red, and it was so dear that Erika kissed her and kissed her, sliding their lips together unhurriedly. Steph gave up on being embarrassed about anything and kissed her back and—

  Suddenly it was very obvious to Erika that Steph had kissed a lot of people, many times, and thus was very good at it. Erika moaned, arching her body down into Steph’s—chest against chest—as Steph wound her arms properly around her neck, bringing her as close as possible.