Love in the Time of Corona

by Elena Graf

“I don’t really know how fast or slow to go with Brenda because I have so little experience with women. I guess I’m what they call a ‘late bloomer.’”

  “That’s pretty common with women. We’re raised to do the socially acceptable thing and date men. That works for some women…at least, for a while.”

  Cherie raised a blond brow and gave Lucy a canny look. “Sounds like you know something about that.”

  Lucy shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

  Cherie waited, turning the patient, open look back on Lucy.

  Lucy laughed softly. “You want me to tell you my story.”

  “You don’t have to,” said Cherie casually.

  “Oh, you’re good, Cherie.”

  Cherie gave her a direct look. “One of the hazards of shrinking a shrink.”

  “Damned right,” replied Lucy. She laughed at Cherie’s slightly shocked look. “All right. I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  “I’d gone through a really rough time in my life,” began Lucy. “It was so bad, I had to give up my operatic career. Everything was going wrong. I was really depressed and thought things couldn’t get any worse. A friend of mine, another professional singer, was singing alto for an Episcopal ordination at St. John the Divine in New York. They needed a soprano soloist and after working me over and plying me with wine, my friend talked me into taking the part. I was really a mess and hadn’t sung in months. I had to work hard to get my voice back into shape, but I did. Since then, I’ve never let my voice go like that. I practice every day.”

  Lucy gazed out the window as she thought back to the day of the ordination.

  “At the reception after the ordination, an attractive woman came up to me and introduced herself. Her name was Susan. She said she’d recognized me and that she’d been a big fan of mine while I was singing at the Met. She was studying theology and hoped to be ordained to the diaconate. Before she was called to the priesthood, she’d been a Roman Catholic nun for almost twenty years.”

  “Another late bloomer,” Cherie conjectured.

  “You’d be surprised how many people are called to the priesthood later in life. Obviously, I was. After the reception, Susan and I struck up a friendship and then it became…well, more. I’m sure you can figure it out from there.”

  “So where is Susan now?”

  Lucy shrugged. “I really don’t know. Her Catholic sensibilities ran deep. She felt that once she was ordained to the priesthood, she should be celibate. In fairness to her, that’s what the Church was teaching at the time.”

  “So, you split up?”

  “Yes. She wanted our goodbye to be final.”

  “That’s a shame,” said Cherie in a sympathetic voice. Lucy noticed how kind her eyes were when she was showing sympathy. She’s probably a great therapist, thought Lucy. Liz had raved about her PA’s patient management skills, and Liz was pretty picky about her staff.

  “Your turn,” said Lucy.

  Cherie touched her steepled fingers to her chin as she considered where to begin. Finally, she said, “I dated men until I was in my late thirties. Then I just gave up dating for years. Obviously, there wasn’t Mr. Right out there. I dated mostly white men. When I told them that I was part black, it was a turn off to some of them. The black men thought I wasn’t black enough. Race can get in the way of a lot of things.”

  Lucy nodded. “I’m sure it can.”

  “The sex with men wasn’t bad. I enjoyed it. Some lesbians find it weird when I say that.”

  “I don’t,” said Lucy. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Cherie smiled. Obviously, she liked the idea that someone understood.

  “I finally decided to be single. I’d hang out with my friends, not looking for anyone in particular. Then I met a woman I really liked. We started going out. We both liked classical jazz, so we went to all the best clubs in Shreveport. I really enjoyed her company. Then one night…it just happened. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Even the best sex with men was nothing like the way this woman made love to me. So, we kept seeing each other, going out to the clubs, to dinner, coming back to my place. She never stayed the whole night. At first, I didn’t question it, but after a while, it became really important to know why she couldn’t stay. Turns out she was married…to a man. He was a high-profile corporate lawyer. She was a lawyer too. They had an agreement that they could sleep with other people as long as every night they slept together in their own bed. I was faintly disgusted, but not enough to give her up. When I got accepted into the Baylor PA program, that made the decision for me.”

  Lucy had been listening intently and without judgement, but she felt sad that Cherie had deprived herself of a full relationship while wasting her time with the duplicitous lawyer.

  “Have you ever heard from her?”

  “She sends me a Christmas card.”

  “That’s nice of her,” said Lucy in a rare, sarcastic tone.

  Cherie looked surprised. Lucy realized she was surprising Cherie too much in this session. She’d better rein it in a little.

  “But now you have the possibility of a real relationship with a woman. What are you going to do about it?”

  “See how it goes?” said Cherie tentatively.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “She’s a widow, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Her wife was killed in a car accident.”

  “That’s terrible. Sudden death is so hard on the survivors.”

  “It worries me a little that she was married before. I don’t want to try to fill someone else’s shoes.”

  “You’re making assumptions.”

  Cherie looked guilty and nodded. “Yes, I am. Just my fear talking, I guess.”

  “What are you afraid of? I mean, apart from the things we’ve talked about…the uniform and the gun. Sounds like you’ve been handling them pretty well.”

  Cherie frowned as she thought. “I’ve never had a successful relationship. I’m almost fifty years old. Maybe I just can’t have one.”

  “Okay, Cherie. Now, if the situation were reversed, how would you respond to that remark?”

  Cherie looked surprised again. “Everyone loves you, Mother Lucy. When you smile, your face just beams love.”

  “That’s a dodge. Try again.”

  Cherie anxiously adjusted her position in her chair, literally squirming under Lucy’s firm look. Finally, she said, “It’s a pessimistic attitude, probably the result of poor self-esteem.”

  Lucy waved her hand dismissively. “Poor self-esteem is an overrated excuse. I only believe in lack of success. You won’t believe you’re lovable until you let yourself be loved. Sounds like Brenda is willing. The question is, are you?”

  Cherie chuckled and stared at Lucy incredulously. “You are one tough lady, Mother Lucy.”

  “Let’s get rid of the ‘Mother Lucy.’ I think we know one another well enough. Just Lucy will do, all right?”

  “You are tough.”

  “Good. That’s what some people need.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Erika watched Lucy walk around the front of the house on her way from the garage. She could instantly tell when it had been a trying day because Lucy had already taken off her collar. Sometimes, Erika found them in the pockets of Lucy’s suit jackets when she was readying clothes for the dry cleaner. Other times she needed to take them out of the light laundry before she threw it into the washing machine. The linen collars really needed to be washed by hand. Those that went through the washing machine puckered and never looked right.

  In the beginning, Lucy’s casual disregard for this obvious sign of her vocation made Erika wonder if it was a subconscious message. Then she realized it was a false assumption. Lucy was completely devoted to the priesthood and the Church.
Although her personal appearance was always flawless, she was just untidy about certain things.

  Erika deliberately turned a blind eye to the shortcomings in her beautiful, red-haired wife. They’d hadn’t even been married for six months, and they were still feeling their way with one another. But untidiness was one thing Erika couldn’t abide. She was kind but firm about it. So far, Lucy was resistant to correction. All she had to do was smile one of her incandescent smiles, and Erika completely forgot her complaints.

  Lucy dragged as she came through the front, but her face brightened as it always did when she saw Erika.

  “Hello, Sweetie,” she said, sloughing off her black coat and hanging it on the coat tree. She threaded her hands through Erika’s arms and gave her a hug. Then she raised her face for a kiss.

  Erika kissed Lucy and gave her a little hug. “My dear, you look so absolutely exhausted.”

  “I am. The accountant was there this afternoon. Good thing Tom has all that experience running a big parish. I have no patience for it. My eyes were beginning to swim.”

  Erika kissed Lucy’s forehead and patted her cheek. “I’m afraid we have company. If I’d known you’d had a hard day, I wouldn’t have asked her to stay.”

  “Who?” said Lucy, looking around.

  “Liz is in the family room, having a beer.”

  Through her fatigue, Lucy managed one of her radiant smiles. “I don’t mind. I love Liz.” She gave Erika another squeeze. “Let me go in and say hello.”

  Erika had always admired Liz’s charming, old-fashioned manners. She got up when Lucy came in. “I’m sorry to still be parked here when you came home. That wasn’t my intention.” She kissed Lucy on the cheek.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  “Erika and I are trying to figure out what to do with her money during the market crash.”

  “Thank God, I have my money managed by a financial advisor,” said Lucy. “I don’t have to think about it.”

  Liz raised her brows. “It doesn’t really work that way. You might want to check in with them.”

  Lucy shook her head “No, let them worry about it.” She patted Liz’s shoulder. “Sit down and enjoy your beer. I’m going up to change.”

  “Liz, are you ready for another beer?” asked Erika, getting up to head to the kitchen.

  “Sure. If you’ll have another.”

  Erika went to the kitchen to get two bottles of beer. As she opened the refrigerator, she noticed a strong smell, not like anything had spoiled, more like the smell when they had an extended power outage. They’d stored broccoli leftovers from the night before, so Erika ascribed the odor to that source. Cruciferous vegetables could be pungent.

  She flipped the caps off the two beers. Before she left the kitchen, she opened a bottle of Chardonnay and set a wine glass beside it for Lucy.

  Erika handed a bottle of beer to Liz, who carefully poured the contents down the side of her glass. “I am really in a quandary with the markets,” Liz said. “I was in London when Lehman Brothers collapsed. I could watch the news on British TV, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Not that I would have. Never sell in a downslide, they say. Otherwise, you enshrine your losses. I’m trying to follow that advice myself, but I admit I’ve lost some sleep over this one.”

  Erika sat beside Liz and tapped glasses with her. “I trust you. If you tell me to sell, I shall.”

  “We should have a few dead cat bounces before that. Then you can sell.”

  Erika laughed. “I love that expression. What does it mean?”

  “It’s a temporary recovery after a big fall, mostly speculators buying to cover themselves. The idea is when the fall is hard and fast enough, even a dead cat will bounce.”

  “You Americans come up with the most colorful language.”

  Lucy came into the room with her glass of wine. She was wearing a workout suit and her fuzzy slippers. Her figure was still perfect, although she’d put on a few pounds since the wedding thanks to Erika’s cooking. She’d looked like a model in her wedding gown. Erika didn’t mind her new softness, especially because it had gone to all the right places.

  Lucy insinuated herself between Liz and Erika. “Are you two still talking about money?”

  “Yes,” they said in unison.

  “You can stop now. I’ve had enough business for one day.”

  “Yes, Mother Lucy,” said Erika in a crisp voice. “Your wish is my command.”

  “Playing dead and ignoring the volatility is one strategy,” said Liz, still focused on the previous conversation. “Don’t look at it. The problem is, we’re at an age when we don’t have the luxury of time. The market may not come back until we’re dead and buried.”

  “Oh, Liz. You’re always so optimistic,” said Lucy with a sigh. “Can’t you look at the bright side?”

  “You’re a priest. That’s your job. I’m a realist. I call them as I see them.”

  “Liz, keep me informed,” said Erika. “But now, let’s leave off the discussion of the stock market, or Lucy will find other entertainment.”

  Lucy sat up and looked around. She cocked an ear in the direction of the family room. “The TV is off? My daughter is actually doing her homework?”

  “I think the novelty of the TV has finally worn off,” Erika said. “She’s in her room. Like most girls she prefers texting her friends and surfing the internet to TV.”

  “More likely playing video games.” Lucy sighed. “Lucky me. I can barely add, and I have a geeky genius for a daughter.”

  Erika patted Lucy’s thigh. “Now, now. Don’t disparage yourself, Lucy. You have many talents, including being a spectacular soprano. Not everyone is gifted in maths.”

  “My wife is a mathematician, my father-in-law, my daughter, the associate rector of my church…wouldn’t you feel stupid too?”

  Erika laughed. “No. Should I feel lacking because I can’t sing opera? We all have our gifts.”

  “Speaking of kids,” said Liz. “I’d better go home and see what’s going on. Maggie is probably ripping her hair out after being with the girls all day.” Liz swallowed the beer left in her glass and got up. Lucy caught her wrist.

  “Liz, do you have time to come to our vestry meeting tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Me?” asked Liz, looking surprised.

  “Yes, you,” said Lucy, holding Liz’s hand and giving her one of her brilliant Lucy smiles. “I want you to speak from a medical point of view…and as a tech head. There’s talk of going to online worship. We have a lot of very conservative people at St. Margaret’s. People respect you. You have a lot of influence. When you speak, people listen.”

  “No pressure or anything,” Liz quipped, glancing at Erika.

  “You know what I mean,” said Lucy firmly.

  Liz sat down again. “Where is this coming from?”

  “The bishop mentioned it in a telephone meeting this morning. Just a few days ago, we were talking about staying home if you didn’t feel well. Now, we’re talking about staying home period!”

  Liz nodded approvingly. “Your bishop is pretty damn smart.”

  “He is, and he genuinely cares about people.”

  “I’m sure Tom will support you,” said Erika. Her old friend from graduate school and one-time boyfriend, now the associate rector of St. Margaret’s, was an ardent Lucy fan.

  Liz had that look of intense concentration that told Erika she was deep in thought. “You should have heard them the other night at the chamber of commerce meeting. The idea that we might have to close businesses right before tourist season opens terrifies them.”

  “As well it should,” said Erika. “This town would die without the summer visitors.”

  “Liz, please come to the meeting,” Lucy said looking directly into Liz’s eyes. “I really need you there. Your opinion carries a lot of weight in t
his town.”

  Erika knew Liz would never refuse Lucy. She also knew that Liz had a hopeless crush on her wife, totally innocent, but not as secret as Liz would like to think. All Lucy had to do was smile and turn her green eyes on Liz, and she would do anything for her.

  “What time?” asked Liz, still looking skeptical.

  “Four thirty.”

  Liz threw back her head and sighed dramatically. “All right. I’ll be there.” She kissed Lucy on the cheek and got up. “See you tomorrow.”

  Erika followed Liz into the kitchen and watched her as she rinsed out her beer bottles and put them in the recycling bin. Liz knew exactly where everything was and always seemed perfectly at home there, which was as it should be after over forty years of friendship. Erika felt equally at home in Liz’s house.

  “Thanks for the beers,” she said.

  “Say hi, to Maggie.”

  Liz waved on her way out the door.

  Erika switched on the oven light to check on the lamb shanks braising in a cast-iron pot. Lucy came in to refill her wine glass. As she opened the door to the refrigerator, she asked, “Have you noticed a funky smell in here?”

  “Yes. Maybe the box of baking soda needs to be replaced. I think I have another in the cabinet.”

  Lucy opened the door to the freezer. “The ice is melting together and refreezing. Everything in here is covered with ice crystals.”

  Erika frowned. “Do you suppose one of us accidently left the door open?”

  “Maybe. If I did it, I’m sorry.” Lucy corked the wine bottle and returned it to the refrigerator door.

  Erika took the glass of wine out of Lucy’s hand and set it on the island. She took Lucy in her arms. “If you did, you are forgiven.”

  “It is Lent. I don’t mind doing a little penance for my sins.”

  “Hmmm. I’ll have to think of something.”

  “There they are again.” Emily came into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to get a bottle of seltzer. “What would you two do if you couldn’t glom on to one another all the time?”

  Lucy gave Erika another gentle squeeze before releasing her. “I wouldn’t like that,” she said. “And I wouldn’t like it if I couldn’t glom onto you.”