With no response and nearly at the end of her ability to hold her water, Em slumped against the door, defeated, knowing that any second it would be too late. She began to sob. Her tears were for so much more than being locked out of her house with urgent bathroom needs. They were for Prairie leaving, for Prairie not consulting her about Fiona, for Prairie not telling her anything about Fiona. She sobbed for her leg, for Alice and everything she’d held inside for more than two years. All the while Em held one hand pressed against her crotch, hoping against hope she could delay the inevitable.
Without warning, the front door opened, hurling the unsuspecting Em into the equally unsuspecting Fiona’s arms. Fiona barely caught Em just before she crashed to the floor.
“Oh, my,” Fiona exclaimed, hoisting Em up onto her feet. “What do we have here?”
“Ohhhhhhhhh…!” Em scrambled to get her balance and quickly extricated herself from Fiona’s arms. She rushed as fast as her disabled body would allow her to the bathroom. She wasn’t going to make it, she feared, using every muscle in her body to prevent what was about to become an epic embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Fiona stood at the door, completely baffled. She looked out to the street looking for a Candid Camera crew, or something that might explain what just happened. Having never met Em, she couldn’t be sure if that was her. It seemed to be her, and probably was her since she knew exactly where the loo was, but Fiona couldn’t be positively certain. She carefully shut the door behind her and waited. She could hear muffled sounds coming from behind the closed bathroom door that sounded almost erotic. Clearly, Fiona concluded, whoever was in the loo had to use the toilet rather urgently. That was fairly obvious, but if it were Em, wouldn’t she have a key?
“It’s a bloody mystery, isn’t it?” Fiona said to herself, her American accent and language tinged with British influence after eight consecutive years in the United Kingdom.
TWENTY-FIVE
Em and Fiona Part 2
25.1—Sparks
Fiona watched Em with considerable interest. Em sat in a club chair perpendicular to the sofa where Fiona chose to sit and wait for Em. When Em exited the bathroom, she walked slowly, using her cane to bear the weight her right leg obviously could not. She appeared embarrassed, and reluctant to join Fiona in the living room, but she did nonetheless.
They introduced themselves, avoiding completely the strange episode at the front door. Em didn’t want to explain her problem to a stranger, and Fiona didn’t want to pry. She was quite surprised at the level of Em’s disability. Prairie had never mentioned for what injuries she’d been working with Em, only that she was a former patient of Prairie’s, which was how they met. Aside from the obvious handicap, Em was absolute magnificence. At least as far as Fiona was concerned.
She could see there was a barely perceptible scar on Em’s face, running down the left side from her eyebrow down to her jaw, but it didn’t detract from Em’s beauty in the least. Her hair was long, black and thick with soft curls, and her eyes were beyond amazing. Fiona couldn’t keep herself from wondering what was wrong with Prairie, to leave someone so beautiful behind. For what? Baseball? Unless, of course, Em was some kind of a bitch or crazy person, but she didn’t seem to be either—at least, not from what Fiona could tell so far.
The silence was making Fiona uncomfortable to the point she finally said, apologetically, “I know it’s a terrible imposition for me to just drop in on your life. I also know you just found out about me today, which is not how I wanted it to go, but…” Fiona didn’t want to disparage Prairie who was kind enough to offer her a place to stay, but she also wanted Em to know she would have preferred otherwise.
“It’s really not a problem,” Em interrupted. “There’s certainly enough room, and… it’ll be nice to have someone around for a while. It gets a little lonely… sometimes.” Em generally shied away from friction and conflict, and she didn’t want to be mad, or annoyed. It was less stressful for her to just play nice and let it be. And anyway, from the short amount of time Em had talked to her, Fiona seemed nice, and easy going enough. At the very least, she wasn’t terrible.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Fiona said. “I really appreciate it. I don’t actually plan on being here for long, just until I get sorted. Not only have I been in the Air Force ten years, I’ve also been out of country the last eight. The U.S. almost seems foreign to me in some ways. Odd, isn’t it?”
Em nodded, fascinated by Fiona’s accent. It was definitely American, but also, oddly British. It was nice. Unusual.
“It’s rare to be stationed so long on one base, isn’t it?” Em inquired, immediately regretting being so nosy, though she couldn’t reconcile Fiona being at one duty station for so long. Everyone she knew who had been in the military more than a few years typically spent two to three years at one base and then, as a matter of routine, they were rotated to another.
Fiona pushed her long brown hair behind her shoulders and shook her head slightly. “It is rare, unless you have just the right contact in Personnel,” she smiled slyly. Fiona did know someone in Personnel, where assignment decisions were made. Her connection happened to be right where he needed to be whenever it was time for her to re-enlist or extend her assignment.
Fiona looked at Em with a knowing gaze. “And, you want to know why I didn’t stay in the whole twenty. After all, you’re in ten, why not stay ten more for the pension, right?” Fiona cocked her eyebrow.
Em laughed, “Yes.”
“Ha! Do I sense a little bit of simpatico between us?” Fiona asked, chuckling. “I think we’re going to be best mates,” she said, the British influence completely taking over her American accent.
Em smiled at the thought of being friends, mates, with Fiona.
“Because…” Fiona began rather dramatically, “It was time for me to leave. I’d done all I wanted to do, or could do, with my photography, at least whilst in the Air Force. I got loads of experience, especially with aerial, which I love. But… I didn’t want my work to become routine, which is exactly what was happening. There’s nothing I could have done within the system to make it do otherwise. So… here I am. Ready to take on the world! Or, at least the U.S. of A.”
Laughing together at Fiona’s dramatic declaration, their eyes met for just a moment. Em quickly looked away, as did Fiona. They both felt the searing bite of an immediate and undeniable spark, which they instantly attempted to ignore—as if it didn’t happen. But it did, shading everything after that one, dangerous and startling moment.
25.2—Best Mates
Fiona’s heart was beating hard in her chest.
“Er… um… Do you want some tea?” she offered, as she quickly stood up. “I brought some from across the pond. If you tell me where your kettle is, I’ll put some on.” One thing Fiona knew for certain—tea will fix almost anything. Hopefully, it would fix the sudden awkwardness between them.
Em’s mind was reeling, as were her emotions. “Um… yeah, sure. The kettle…” Kettle? Ah, that’s what Izzy called it, too. “Oh, you mean the teapot. It’s in the cupboard under the counter. Um… the cupboard beneath the toaster I think. We never use it, so…”
“Got it!”
As Fiona busied herself in the kitchen, finding all the accoutrement she would need to serve tea, Em was trying to make sense of what just happened. They only just met! Fiona was Prairie’s friend from England. Em loved Prairie. She loved Prairie. Em stopped breathing. She still did, didn’t she? How could she if such a little thing—with a virtual stranger, no less—could set off such… She didn’t even know what it was. Whatever it was, Em quickly concluded, it was scary and downright dangerous.
Fiona stood over the teapot, waiting for it to boil. She didn’t know what just happened; well, she did, but she didn’t know why it happened. Em was Prairie’s. Off limits. No go zone. A wall should have gone up automatically, but it didn’t. It had to be those eyes of Em’s, Fiona quickly concluded. Fiona had never seen such unusual green eyes, not
even in Ireland where it seemed a lot more women had green eyes—incredible green eyes of every sort—than anywhere else she’d ever been. Em’s were almost a sea green, big, vulnerable. Fiona wanted to dive into them, they were that enticing. Sexy.
Prairie hadn’t told her much at all about Em, but Fiona was already growing fond of her. She was quiet, polite, a little bit funny, and sweet. She also seemed a little sad. Em’s sadness could have been Fiona’s imagination, but Fiona decided she’d probably be sad if her lover had left her behind, too. Though she had actually never been in love herself, so she wasn’t exactly sure what that would feel like—she could only guess. It was a non-issue for Fiona. She never planned on ever loving anyone—which was just the way she preferred it.
~/~/~/~/~
Em sipped her tea. “Mmmm… this is good. It reminds me of tea my… um… cousin Izzy would make when I was a child.” Em didn’t feel comfortable telling Fiona she grew up with domestic help, which included Izzy. She didn’t want people knowing her family was obscenely rich because it tended to make people behave differently toward her. Izzy was a cousin twice removed, so she wasn’t actually lying. “She’s from Ireland.”
“Oh, nice. So you’re Irish?” Fiona asked.
“Half,” Em replied. “My mother is Irish. My father is Spanish—from Spain.”
“Ah, interesting. I see both in you,” Fiona said, smiling, making Em blush ever so slightly.
As they got to know one another, the two women avoided further eye contact at all costs.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking…” Fiona began hesitantly.
Em cocked her head.
“Prairie didn’t tell me much more than you were her patient at one point.”
Em nodded.
“May I ask… I don’t want to… do you mind if…” Fiona suddenly felt awkward. She glanced at Em’s cane propped against the seat cushion of Em’s chair.
“Oh. Um…” Em exhaled. “Okay. Yeah, no, it’s fine. Um… I… I was in an accident. A really terrible accident.” She paused, wondering why she suddenly felt compelled to tell this stranger about the awful thing that had happened to her. “I… I almost lost my leg.”
Fiona’s eyebrows raised.
Yeah.” Em sighed. “And I got cut pretty badly on my face—see the scars?” Em ran her finger down the largest scar. “They used to be way worse. But still, I… I was lucky, I guess.”
Fiona leaned forward, engrossed in Em’s story.
Em felt strange telling Fiona what happened to her, but Fiona’s genuine interest gave her courage, so she continued. Her brow furrowed as she remembered. “It was the fourth of July two years ago. In Texas where I was stationed. And… the car I was in was hit head on.”
Fiona gasped softly.
Em nodded her head. “Drunk driver. He died. The guy driving the car I was in died. It was… horrible. I mean, I don’t remember it. But… My… friend… lover… got hurt really badly.” Em immediately went back in time for a few seconds. She quickly shook her head to clear it of the memories. “I mean, I was actually passed out drunk myself, so I don’t remember anything… not really… except afterwards.”
“Wow. That’s…” Fiona felt sick thinking about what Em must have gone through. “That’s just mad.”
“They said I’d probably never walk again. All the doctors and specialists, and I believed them, but my Commander didn’t. She found Prairie, and Prairie… saved my life.” Em looked to the floor and then directly at Fiona. She didn’t know why, but she had just told Fiona more about what happened to her than she’d told anyone else—ever.
~/~/~/~/~
They talked for hours. Em kept Alice mostly to herself, and Fiona kept her intimate dalliances with Prairie to herself, but there were so many things they told each other in that first conversation neither had even told Prairie. Em learned that Fiona’s mother had been a war bride, born in Ireland and raised in England. Fiona’s much older half-sisters were born in England, but she was not. Em shared her family history—far more than she’d ever told anyone. She told Fiona about her writing, her dreams, her fears.
The more they talked, the more Em began to suspect what she had feared since Prairie left—the foundation of their relationship was weak. Yes, she and Prairie were friends, then lovers, but they weren’t friends first. They were patient/therapist first, then friends, then lovers. And now what were they? Were they anything? Em didn’t know. Perhaps she had confused gratefulness with love. But she did love Prairie, she knew that. It just wasn’t the kind of love that could survive long-distance. But it was more than that. She was comfortable with Prairie, and they talked, but never so easily as it was with Fiona. Em felt so incredibly relaxed talking about almost everything with Fiona, the exception being certain aspects of her relationship with Alice. That was one thing she just could not bring herself to do.
Fiona was thoroughly enjoying getting to know Em, but she was uncomfortable with how she was feeling. What she was feeling was foreign to her, and frightening. Women fell in love with her, wanting emotions from her she didn’t and wouldn’t allow herself to have. But here, now, she was feeling herself and her emotions going someplace she’d never been before. Not only was it uncomfortable and strange, but it felt dodgy, to be sitting in Prairie’s house—living in Prairie’s house—hosted by Prairie’s lover, all the while falling in love with said lover. Fiona wanted to tear her heart out to stop it from feeling what it was feeling, but she knew it was already too late. She knew she was in trouble of a sort she’d never known before.
~/~/~/~/~
It was late and Fiona was fading fast. She stood up, all five foot seven of her, and began to collect their mugs. “I’m knackered. I need to go to bed, Em. Jet lag. I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation.” She smiled at Em—beautiful Em. “Um…” Fiona suddenly felt awkward, standing there, holding their mugs. “Okay, I’ll put these away and then…” she turned and headed for the kitchen.
Em got herself up off the chair, slower than she preferred, but sitting so long had stiffened her leg and hip. She gripped her cane for balance. “Me, too, Fiona. It was… really nice. I’ll… um… see you tomorrow.” Em felt odd, almost disconnected from reality. They had gone from strangers to friends who could hardly bear to part for the night in a matter of a few hours. There was either something bigger going on than either of them understood, or Em was more lonely than she thought.
“Night-night, love,” Fiona said as Em turned and began shuffling to the bedroom she had shared with Prairie.
25.3—Togetherness
Despite it being a Saturday morning, at precisely six-thirty, Em woke up. Her body didn’t know the difference between weekdays and weekends. She remembered the evening before with Fiona and smiled. She couldn’t ever recall having a friend who knew so much about her—in only one day. There were things about her Fiona knew, but Prairie didn’t, and Alice never had. Why was that?
She got on with her day, hoping Fiona would wake up earlier than later, but expected nothing. Em made coffee and toast and took it outside to the deck in the back. She ate, drank her coffee and read a book for a while. After about an hour, Em went back inside—still no Fiona. Em went to the hallway and looked at Fiona’s door for a long while. She scoffed. She couldn’t get Fiona off her mind. Concerned about her obsession, Em decided she needed to call Prairie. She felt desperate, confused, and needed to get herself back on track.
~/~/~/~/~
“So you like her,” Prairie stated, pleased.
“I do.” Em smiled to herself, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about her?” Em inquired innocently.
“Um… what do you mean?” Prairie was immediately alarmed. Did Fiona tell Em about them? Prairie fretted, waiting for Em’s answer.
“You told me you had a friend from England, Prairie,” Em began, trying not to sound mad. “You never told me she was your roommate… for two years.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Prairie gritted her teeth. S
aying yes to Fiona was a really bad idea.
“No, but it’s okay.” Em suddenly didn’t care and didn’t want to fight over nothing. “It doesn’t matter, Prair. It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I thought…” Prairie figured it was best to stop digging the hole. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re getting along. I knew you would. Ah, before I forget to ask again, how are you liking Hans?” Prairie asked about Em’s new physical therapist.
Em scowled. “I’m not.”
“No? Why not? He comes highly recommended.”
Em bit her lower lip and admitted, “He’s not you, Prair. And he’s a…” She wanted to say “Nazi” but didn’t want to use such a cliché, even though he could have been. “He’s too demanding—in not a nice way.”
“Ah, babe… I’m sorry. At least you only have to see him once a week, right?” Prairie wished she could be in two places at once.
“I guess,” Em replied softly, not wanting to go into detail how much she disliked Hans. He was gruff and not patient with her at all, but more than anything, he was too male for her. Em missed Prairie’s even temperament, but more than anything, Em missed her touch.
“Do you want me to see if I can find someone else? I can if you want me to,” she offered, feeling as if she needed to do something to atone for her mismanagement of Fiona’s unannounced arrival.
“No,” Em uttered so softly Prairie barely heard her reply.
“If you change your mind… Hey, I miss you, Emmy,” Prairie said lovingly. “You miss me?”
Prairie Fire Page 35
