Prairie Fire

by Djuna Shellam

  Em shook her head.

  “Okay, well, then never mind.” Prairie laughed. “Just hang in there, okay? You’re getting there.”

  Em scoffed. “When? I was trapped in that chair forever, and now I’m hobbling around with a walker like an old lady geezer—” Em stopped herself mid-sentence. She knew how she sounded and it wasn’t nice or fair. She knew the reason she’d been in a wheelchair so long was her own fault—she’d allowed herself to wallow in self-pity for too long before coming to her senses. “I know. I know. I’d kick my own butt if I could, but…” she smiled self-consciously and shrugged.

  Prairie chuckled to herself thinking of Em trying to kick her own butt. “Listen, just keep working hard like you’ve been doing and you’ll make up for all of the, um, for the slow start. You’re doing great now, you know. I’m really, um, I’m really, uh, proud of you.” Prairie blushed, and then wanted to kick her own butt for nearly betraying her feelings for Em.

  “Oh…” Em was surprised at the tenderness in Prairie’s voice. It touched her more than she would ever admit.

  Prairie cleared her throat. “Ahem. I… You know, I prefer lakes. I mean, better than the ocean. I’d never seen the ocean until I moved out here and I guess I thought it would be different. Like a giant lake, but—”

  “The sand, salt and surf, right?” Em interjected.

  “Exactly,” Prairie concurred. “It freaked me out the first time I ever went to the beach.” She laughed.

  “I had the opposite experience the first time I ever went to a lake,” Em confessed. “I remember jumping off of a diving platform, and then shooting down, down, down through the water, and when my feet hit the bottom of the lake I was so surprised! And fresh water was really different, too.” She thought for a moment, then added, “But I think what I loved the most was that every crevice of my body wasn’t filled with sand when the day was done. That was different.” Now she laughed.

  “We should drive up to Big Bear Lake sometime, then,” Prairie suggested.

  “Sure. Once I’m walking again. I’d definitely want to go into the water.”

  “Of course. Then you better hurry.” Prairie smiled at Em, reached over and patted her on the leg. “But, you know you don’t have to walk to swim. We’ll go soon.”

  17.3—Fog

  A fog had begun to creep toward the shore, blurring the definition of the setting sun. Cool, moist air accompanied the low-lying, encroaching bank of clouds. Em suppressed a shiver. “Beautiful,” she said with a longing she never understood, staring at the horizon line.

  “That’s the one thing I love about the ocean.” Prairie admitted wistfully. “Best sunsets I’ve ever seen.”

  They sat in silence as the sun dipped below the ocean and a nebulous dusk fell over the coast.

  Prairie was immediately struck by the urgent need to express her feelings to Em. Historically, she had never felt the need to talk about her feelings; she’d just show her intended how she felt at the moment. It was always purely physical. But her feelings for Em were different and complex. They were roommates and friends, but Em was also her patient, and there were boundaries Prairie worried about crossing. Boundaries she probably shouldn’t cross, though the very fact they’d been living together as roommates practically obliterated normal ethical protocols. Nonetheless, having such intense feelings for another woman was new territory for Prairie. With only one exception, she had never spent more than a few days with any woman. After Fiona broke her heart into a million pieces, the very moment a woman even began to show the least bit of interest in her, Prairie would pack up and move on. She never felt there was any point to prolonging the inevitable. She knew she would never feel anything more than a physical lust, and drama was not her thing. Ambivalence was her modus operandi. Prairie quietly sighed. She was afraid of this.

  “Em.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I have something to say, that I, I, ugh, I don’t know how to…” Prairie stumbled mentally as her emotions confused her. She turned toward Em.

  “What is it?” Em looked at Prairie with interest.

  “Well, you know, I…” Prairie cleared her throat. “I, um, you know, I…” Prairie sighed deeply. “Okay. I like you, Em. A lot. I shouldn’t say so, because I’m your therapist.” Prairie instantly regretted saying anything and began mentally preparing to somehow backpedal.

  “I like you, too, Prairie,” Em admitted, innocently.

  Prairie sighed. “This is so hard. I really don’t know—”

  Em did a double-take. “Wait, you mean…” The gist of what Prairie was trying to say surprised, but also pleased her—and scared the heck out of her all at the same time.

  “Yeah. Like that.” Prairie dropped her chin to her chest and tried to think what to do next.

  Em held her breath. She hadn’t had feelings for anyone since Alice. Feelings of a romantic sort. Or that she would admit to having, anyway. Feelings were the last thing on her mind—until recently. Until Prairie.

  In many ways, Em still felt connected to Alice and wouldn’t allow herself to even entertain feelings for anyone, let alone Prairie—even when she did. At least not most of the time. After all, she and Prairie lived together in the same room, carpooled together, and they had become friends. But more than anything, Prairie was her physical therapist. Em knew it was difficult not to experience a closeness that could lead to feelings. But a romance would complicate an already complicated situation.

  Still, in the back of her mind, Em couldn’t help thinking, What about Alice? Alice was gone, but Em remained connected to her. There were promises, and there was the unending guilt that remained. Em almost felt as if she didn’t deserve anyone loving her, and even if she did, she wasn’t sure she could love again with the abandon she always thought love required. She closed her eyes, hoping to clear her head of the confusion.

  Prairie audibly sighed. “I don’t know how to do this, Em,” she said, interrupting Em’s thoughts. “I don’t usually, I mean, I don’t ever, at least hardly ever, have feelings for women I date or, um, who I’m you know, sleeping with—I mean, I like them, but not… And never for patients,” she added emphatically. Prairie blew air and puffed her cheeks out of frustration. She was always so smooth with women, but there was something about Em that ruffled up her game. Em had changed her, and the change had been progressing almost from the moment they met.

  Prairie’s reputation for going out every night and picking up a different woman while proudly maintaining her single status was legendary. U-Haul was not in her vocabulary. But once Em showed up on the scene, Prairie’s every night out on the prowl turned into every other night, then every third. Once Em moved into the house, Prairie spent every minute of her free time with Em.

  She knew her roommates had noticed the change in her behavior and had already begun to talk amongst themselves. They even teased her about it from time to time, but Prairie shrugged it off. She really didn’t care what anyone thought. She’d only ever felt this way once before, and sometimes wondered if she could possibly be in love with Em. But how was love even supposed to feel? Prairie thought she knew once, but clearly she was wrong given how it turned out.

  In the semi-darkened interior of the car, Prairie could see that Em had stiffened a little, which set off a silent alarm in Prairie. The last thing she wanted was to make things awkward between them. After all of the great work Em had been doing and the progress she’d made, Prairie did not want to upend everything with her stupid feelings. The lines had suddenly blurred too much for comfort.

  The sound of waves crashing brought a sense of rhythmic calm to the situation that, to the uninformed might have seemed calm, but was anything but. Both Em and Prairie were roiling inside, trying to figure out their emotions and what to do next. Em couldn’t help but remember when she and Alice sat in a car looking over a body of water at night. The memory washed over Em so completely, the sudden, momentary pain was almost unbearable. She caught her breath. Tears welled in her eyes a
s she remembered that night—the night she and Alice first kissed. The night they first made love. The night she never ever wanted to forget.

  Keep it together, Em told herself as she looked out of the passenger side window. Oh, to go back in time… just the thought of Alice and that night made her cry a little inside. She hadn’t thought of that night in a long time—on purpose. But she was here now, with Prairie. Em liked Prairie, too, and probably in a like like kind of way as well. No matter how much she wanted to deny her feelings, they simply had to be dealt with—right now.

  “So…” Em began, “what are you saying, Prairie? That you like me in… that way?” She paused, trying to process how she felt. “I’m not really ready…” to start a relationship she wanted to say, but was that the truth?

  “No, no, Em, look—” Prairie needed to get out of this thing and fast. She should have kept her stupid mouth shut. “I was just saying, you know, I like you, because I wanted you to know. That’s all. Nothing more than that, okay? Really.” Liar. Even she wasn’t convinced.

  Em looked at Prairie for a long time before speaking. She knew what Prairie was doing and had to decide if she was going to let her. Em struggled mightily with the touchy situation at hand. She wanted to be loved again, to be touched like a lover, to be wanted, and to be kissed and made love to—she wanted it all again. But she wanted it all with Alice and no one else. Then again, Prairie was so different from Alice—funny, kind, loyal, ferociously protective, reliable and tough. If she let herself, she could be with Prairie in a heartbeat. But what about Alice? Em sighed. There was so much more she wanted to say to Prairie, but all that came out was, “Okay.”

  Prairie looked out over where the horizon and the last vestiges of the day should have been, but there was nothing but a bank of fog rolling toward them. “Yeah, so… You think we should head back before that stuff socks us in?”

  Em nodded and said softly, “Yeah.”

  Prairie looked out to the horizon one last time, thinking the invading fog could not represent their relationship right at that moment any better if it tried. Stupid metaphors, she thought, shaking her head as she turned on the engine and prepared to get them back on the road home.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  The drive home was uneventful, yet everything between them had changed. Nothing had happened between them physically, but a potent seed had been planted. Each knew they could not go back in time to how they were before Prairie’s announcement, but they both wanted to—just as much as they didn’t.

  Neither spoke a word the entire way back to Highland Park, though their minds were working overtime trying to sort everything out. Prairie regretted saying anything, and Em regretted not saying enough. As soon as Em began to entertain the possibility of a romantic relationship with Prairie, she began to feel pangs of guilt about Alice. When the guilt about telling Em how she felt washed over Prairie, there was still an undeniable sense of relief that she had put it out there—planted a seed, perhaps.

  By the time they turned onto Hill Top Place and pulled into the driveway of the house, Prairie had reconciled the entire situation. She would deal with it in the morning—or in a few days, or something. What was done was done.

  Without the same sense of reconciliation, Em felt trepidatious about the evening. She remembered what had happened between her and Alice the night their true feelings were finally revealed. It started off horribly, but ultimately ended up changing her life. Would this night, she wondered, end in passion, or pain? Or would they both pretend Prairie’s confession never happened?

  EIGHTEEN

  No Baby, Baby

  18.1—1996

  “Well, that wasn’t the most pleasant physical experience I’ve ever had,” Eve said as she lowered herself into the passenger seat of Em’s Jaguar.

  Em carefully slid into the drivers’ seat and closed the door. “What, honey? I missed the last part of what you said.”

  Eve fastened her seat belt and replied, “Oh, I was just commenting on what a lovely physical experience that was, which it wasn’t—at all. Fuck.”

  “I know. But you were so brave.” Em reached over and held Eve’s hand.

  “So now we wait.” Eve stared straight ahead, thinking the whole process of getting pregnant was going to be so awful and clinical, and wondered if it really was what she wanted.

  “The time will fly by, and before you know it, we’ll have an idea how long the whole thing will take, right?” Em started the car and began to back out of the parking space. She stopped midway and looked at Eve with a smile. “You know what? We should go car shopping.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, we should have more of a family car, like…” Em looked to the ceiling of the car as she scoured her memory. “Oh, I know! What do you think of that new Range Rover?”

  Still halfway out of the parking space, a car horn blasted from behind them.

  “Oh! Sorry!” Em waved to the irate driver and quickly continued backing out of the space. “Sheesh, a little tap on the horn would have sufficed. He didn’t need to sit on it.”

  Eve turned around to see who was driving the silver Bentley. “She.”

  “What?” Em put the Jaguar into drive and headed for the driveway of the Beverly Hills doctors’ office.

  “It’s a woman driver.” Eve smiled at Em who was clearly flustered.

  “Oh, well, whatever, she could have been just a tad more patient. So anyway, what do you think?”

  “About?”

  “The Range Rover? A new car for the baby—our family.”

  “Oh, honey, we don’t even know if there’s going to be a baby yet. We… Shouldn’t we wait?” Eve didn’t want to get her hopes up and wanted desperately to just go home and wait for the news, though it would be another seven to ten days before they’d know her chances to conceive.

  “I know,” Em conceded, but knowing how Eve must be feeling at the moment, she was desperate for a distraction. “Hey, y’know I’ve had this car for several years now, and even though it’s still perfect, I’m kind of ready for a change. We don’t have any plans for this afternoon, do we?”

  “Not until three. I have a conference call with Dan and Meredith.” Eve sighed.

  “Oh, that’s right. Okay, so we have a couple hours.” Em turned to look at Eve and smiled enthusiastically.

  Eve sighed. “I hope they get on the same page. It’s no fun having your agent and manager at odds all the time,” Eve muttered to herself. “I don’t know why they don’t just figure this shit out themselves. I pay them so I don’t have to deal with that stuff.” She scoffed.

  “C’mon,” Em urged. “Let’s stop by the dealership—it’s not far from here—have a look, and then we’ll go have a fancy lunch somewhere and be home by two-thirty. Hmmm…? Take your mind off everything?” Em looked over at Eve whose lips were pursed as she mulled over Em’s proposition. “The baby? Dan? Meredith? C’mon… We don’t have to buy a new car, we’ll just have a look,” Em added as an incentive to give in. “It’ll be fun.”

  Eve thought for a moment before a mischievous smile broke out on her face, “Okay. Who do you want to be, Kiki or Muffy?”

  Em laughed out loud. “I’ve been Kiki the last few times. I think Muffy this time.”

  “Okay, Muffy, let’s go!”

  “Just don’t go into hysterics this time,” Em warned. “Last time I almost died you had me laughing so hard. Be serious. Promise?”

  “Scouts honor.”

  “Ha. You know you were never a Girl Scout,” Em teased.

  The women laughed together as they reminisced about the private joke they liked to play on unsuspecting sales people when window shopping.

  18.2—New Car Smell

  “Izzy is going to be over the moon when you tell her,” Eve said as she and Em left the car dealership. “When are you going to break the news?”

  “Well,” Em began, thinking out loud, “What if we go home for lunch instead of going out and…” Em paused as she worked the scena
rio out in her head. “Oh! I know. Let’s see if Iz will have lunch with us. I know she hasn’t eaten yet. We’ll catch up and then I’ll tell her what we did, and then…”

  “You know she loves this car,” Eve chortled. “No, she lusts this car.”

  “I know, which is why she’s going to squeal like a school girl when I give it to her.” Em smiled broadly. “Well, first she’ll fight me on it, and trust me, she will put up a magnificent fight—just like she did when I bought her the Camry two years ago, but then…”

  “But then she’ll be ecstatic and love you even more than she already does—if that’s even possible.” Eve reached over and squeezed Em on her thigh. “She loves you so much.”

  “Yeah,” Em smiled fondly. “I love her, too. She’s been like a mother to me my whole life,” Em said almost to herself, then to Eve, “I bet I know who’s going to be even more thrilled than Izzy about her new car.”

  “Ricky?” Eve asked, though she knew without asking Em was referring to Izzy’s seventeen year old grandson.

  Em chuckled, “He’s been nagging his mom and dad for a car of his own since… well, since he got his license over a year ago. If I know Iz, he’ll get a nice little hand-me-down the minute I hand her the keys to the Jag.”

  “It’s going to be a happy day at our house when we bring the new car home,” Eve commented gleefully.

  “You know… I’m wondering if I should string it out and say I’m going to trade the Jag in,” Em mused, her laugh somewhat sinister.

  “Oh my… honey, you are diabolical.” Eve shook her head with amused disbelief. “Don’t do that to Izzy…”

  “Ah, I know. I’m just kidding.” Em slowed to a stop at the red light and turned to Eve, saying with sincerity. “I want to make her happy. She’s always there for me, us… always has been—when I let her,” Em said, thinking back to her rehab days. She sighed. “I think giving her the car is the least I can do to show my appreciation. Don’t you think?”