by Elena Graf
“Je t’adore aussi,” replied Lucy. “One last song for my lonely friend in her garret. What’s your pleasure?”
“Brahm’s Geistliches Wiegenlied, bitte.”
Lucy scanned for the accompaniment on her phone. “I’m not a mezzo, you know.”
“I know. I’m letting you off easy tonight,” said Liz.
As Lucy sang, Maggie knew it was ridiculous to be jealous of such a phenomenal gift. She sat back and enjoyed Lucy’s effortless rendition of the classic song. She looked down the row of seats and saw that everyone was as moved by the performance as she was.
“Thank you for letting me invade your evening,” said Liz, with her lopsided grin. “As you were.”
“Good night, Liz,” said Maggie, waving. Everyone was waving. The screen reverted to the desktop view.
Alina got up to switch off the computer. “It was nice to see her. She looks good.”
Staring at the blank screen, Maggie desperately wished that Liz was still there. She missed her so much. Her eyes filled. Later, when she had privacy, she would put on her sexiest nightgown and Facetime Liz. That would give her plenty of incentive to stay healthy and come home quickly.
Maggie took a shower and put on the sheer nightgown. She looked out her bedroom window and saw the light in the workshop studio go off. She pulled out her phone to call and, in that split second, decided Facetime wasn’t enough. What if something happened to Liz? What if she never could touch her or make love to her again?
Maggie knew that Liz would be furious, but she took a canvas bag out of the closet and began to pack. She threw in the essentials: underwear, her makeup kit, toiletries, comfortable clothes for a week. Alina could bring her anything else she might need.
Maggie listened from the landing on the second floor. It was all dark below. Everyone had gone to bed. She crept downstairs, put on her coat and shoes and took the key marked “workshop” off the hook in the hall closet. She pressed it tightly in her hand as she considered whether this was a good idea. Of course, it wasn’t, but Maggie decided she didn’t care. She needed to be with Liz.
The wind was blowing as she headed down the path to the workshop. It was a clear night, and the moon shone brightly overhead. Maggie could see her breath in its light.
It took a few tries to get the lock open. Maggie had almost given up when the pins turned in the barrel and the door opened. She went into the dark shop. Chilled from her walk, Maggie had hoped to find warmth inside, but it was cold. Maggie guessed Liz was trying to conserve energy by running the heat pump in the studio instead of the gas furnace.
After fumbling, Maggie’s hand finally found the light switch and flipped it on. She saw Liz had been busy while she’d been quarantined. There was table leg in the lathe and three matching legs on a rolling stand nearby.
Maggie hung her coat on a peg near the door. She didn’t want to walk through the shop with bare feet, but neither did she want to alert Liz to her presence. She put her bag out of the way under the stairs, then took off her shoes before she ascended. Her feet could feel the dust on the steps. Liz might be a stickler for hygiene as a doctor, but she wasn’t the world’s best housekeeper.
Maggie breathed a sigh of relief when she got to the landing without any of the treads squeaking. She turned the knob slowly and the door opened without a sound. She could hear Liz breathing in the darkened room. The rhythm of her breaths told her that Liz was already asleep. Maggie raised the covers and slipped in beside her.
Liz twisted around and sat up. “What the fuck!”
“It’s just me,” said Maggie.
Liz breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re lucky I didn’t pull my gun on you! And what the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”
“Shhh.” Maggie laid a finger across Liz’s lips to silence her. She took Liz’s hand and slipped it in the low-cut nightgown.
“You’re not really mad, are you?” asked Maggie as Liz appreciatively squeezed her breast. Maggie leaned forward and kissed her, pleased to feel the lips part and welcome her in. She probed Liz’s warm mouth with her tongue.
Liz pulled away. “Yes, I’m really mad. I could give you the virus. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
Maggie nudged Liz down on the pillow. “I can’t be without you anymore. I need you.” She resumed kissing her as she moved over her body. Maggie knew from long experience how easy it was to seduce Liz. In a moment, she’d completely forget her anger.
Maggie wanted to savor the sweetness of their reunion with long, slow lovemaking, but Liz was too excited and came quickly. Satisfied, Liz was patient enough to make love to Maggie more leisurely. By then, Maggie was aroused enough to come on the inside. After the orgasm, Liz allowed her fingers to remain. Maggie squeezed them gently to tell her wife how happy she was to feel her there.
Liz sat up and pulled off her T-shirt. “It’s warm enough in here to sleep naked. I want to feel your skin against mine.”
“Oh yes,” said Maggie with a sigh as she settled into the crook of Liz’s arm. “Are you still angry?”
“Yes,” Liz said. “But the damage is done now. You’re stuck here until the test results come back.”
Maggie laughed softly. “I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“What about our guests?”
Maggie shrugged. “They can look after themselves. We’ve been taking care of them for over a month. Let them take care of us now.”
“Hmmm. Hadn’t thought of that, but this little studio is pretty cramped.”
“I like that. It’s cozy. Reminds me of camping in Acadia. It will be like a little getaway. A second honeymoon.” Maggie snuggled against Liz’s breast. “Go back to sleep. I’m here now.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“When we go over to the house, remind me that I want to drop off the rent check to my landlord,” said Cherie.
Brenda gave her long, thoughtful look. “I want you to move in with me.”
“What? Isn’t that a little sudden?”
“We’ve been quarantined together for a month. You’ve seen me at my worst—sweating like a pig and hacking my brains out, but you still love me.”
“I do love you.” Cherie forced down her skeptical brow. What Brenda said made perfect sense, of course. Not many couples had such tests of loyalty and devotion before they moved in together. “Are you sure?” asked Cherie.
Brenda nodded. “Absolutely sure.”
“I still need to pay the landlord. We need time to move the stuff out of the house. Who knows if we can even get a mover. We might have to wait.”
“We don’t need a mover,” said Brenda. “Our friends will help. You’ll see.” She pulled her service belt around her waist. Cherie noticed she cinched it past the worn mark. Her shirt and pants were looser too.
“You’ve lost some weight,” Cherie observed.
“Yes, and I didn’t even try.”
“All that coughing takes energy.” Cherie watched Brenda put on her uniform jacket and campaign hat. “I never realized how sharp you look in your uniform.”
“Well, at least it doesn’t scare you anymore.”
“I didn’t say that. But I am getting better with it.”
Brenda put her arm at Cherie’s back to guide her out to the porch. They agreed to take separate cars because Brenda had to report at two. They were still down a few officers with the virus, so Brenda had agreed to take a shift.
“See you there,” said Brenda. She touched her fingers to the brim of her hat before she got into her truck.
As Cherie drove to the cemetery, she wondered how it would feel to stand at her father’s grave. Before now, his death had seemed like something in a movie. Her last words to him being transmitted through a Facetime call only emphasized the idea that it was something remote, like a bad television show.
Her worry that she w
ouldn’t find the grave vanished when she saw a familiar redhead moving along the row of headstones. Lucy was wearing her collar and black suit. The white stole around her neck fluttered delicately in the breeze. Cherie parked behind Lucy’s SUV and got out of her car.
“Good morning, Cherie,” said Lucy. She was wearing a black mask embroidered with a little white cross.
“I like your mask. Is that what the well-dressed priest is wearing in the age of covid-19?”
“Mrs. Reardon made half a dozen of them. She sent some to Father Tom too. Pretty cool, huh?’
“Very cool,” Cherie agreed, carefully measuring the distance between them with her eyes. “Thank you for doing this today.”
“I promised I would. I like to keep my word.” Lucy glanced around. “Is Brenda coming?”
“She should be here in a minute.” As she said it, Cherie saw the familiar truck drive through the cemetery gates. Brenda put on her hat as she got out and walked to where Cherie stood.
Finally, Cherie allowed her eyes to take in the mound of fresh soil piled on the grave. She felt sad that her father was buried so far away from her mother, but they had considered that possibility when they’d discussed moving to Maine. Her father had planned to move her mother’s remains, so they could spend eternity together. Now, Cherie would have to make the arrangements.
Lucy greeted Brenda and then began with the sign of the cross. While Lucy prayed, Brenda held Cherie’s hand with gentle, reassuring pressure.
The prayers Lucy recited were only words, but Cherie found them so comforting. After they said the Lord’s Prayer, Lucy recited Psalm 121. “I will lift up my eyes to the hills from whence comes my help…” She ended the service with a blessing.
“Thank you, Lucy,” said Cherie.
“I wish I could give you a hug.” Lucy’s eyes were so full of sympathy that Cherie could almost feel the hug they couldn’t share.
“I know. Me too. Hopefully, soon.”
“Mother Lucy, Cherie and I are going to get some chowder and lobster rolls,” said Brenda. “Shelly’s just reopened. Would you like to join us?”
“Oh, my word! Shelly’s clam chowder. I’ve missed it soooo much. Yes, I’d love to join you.”
They met at Shelly’s clam shack on Route 1. The indoor restaurant was closed, of course, but they could order food at the window. A plexiglass partition had been put up with a little door to slide out the orders.
“Everything’s different now,” observed Cherie with a sigh. “How are we going to eat with masks on?”
“I can sit over there at the far table.”
“I have an idea,” said Brenda with obvious enthusiasm. “Why don’t we bring chowder and lobster rolls to Liz’s house? I bet they’d love some. I’m buying.”
Cherie gave her a worried look. “That’s very expensive. I’ll go half with you.”
“It’s all right. I haven’t been anywhere to spend money for almost a month. And Liz wouldn’t take any money for groceries. I owe her at least that much.”
They ordered a dozen lobster rolls and what amounted to over a gallon of chowder, which the cook put in quart-sized, paper containers. Brenda handed three fifty-dollar bills to the girl who’d taken their order, but the owner came to the window. “That’s too much, Chief,” he said, handing her back a fifty.
“That’s nowhere near enough for all that food,” Brenda protested.
“Yes, it is. Thanks for keeping us safe. All of your people have done such a great job. Thank you.”
Brenda tried to give him the bill he’d returned, but he closed the window and walked away.
“I wonder if he knows I’ve been laid up the whole time.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Lucy. “It’s symbolic. Be grateful and let’s go before the chowder gets cold.”
Cherie called Liz on the way to warn her that they were bringing lunch.
“Good timing,” said Liz. “I was just wondering what I was going to feed my little army. Tomorrow they’ll be on their own because I’m going back to the office. You can be sure I won’t mind leaving lunchtime to Maggie.”
Cherie saw that parking in the driveway was tight and backed into a space between two pine trees. Lucy’s SUV drove in with Brenda’s truck right behind it.
Brenda had planned to drop off the food and then take theirs to Cherie’s house to eat, but Liz came out on the porch.
“It’s a nice day, come around and meet us on the deck. I moved a table for you to sit down.”
Brenda put down the bags of food on the porch and backed away. Liz carried the bags into the house.
“I’ll meet you on the deck,” called Lucy, going into the house through the garage door.
They walked around the side of the house to the back deck and went up the stairs. Liz was weighing down a plastic tablecloth with colorful rocks. “Maggie’s heating up the chowder,” Liz explained as she set out forks and spoons. “It will be just a minute.”
“How are you, Liz?” asked Cherie. “You look great.”
“I feel great and really happy I tested negative. I was so relieved that Mrs. Bergeron only had the flu.”
“That’s good, I guess,” said Cherie.
Liz stood straight and looked thoughtful. “Amazing to be grateful that an old woman has pneumonia from the good, old flu.”
Maggie came out on the porch with mugs of chowder. “I’ll leave it on this table. You and Cherie can pick them up.” She brought over two spoons and set them beside the mugs.
Erika came out of the house, followed by her father.
“Hello, Brenda, how nice to see you looking so well,” said Erika. “We were quite worried about you.”
“Oh, I was quite worried about myself. I’ve never had any bug that bad. It was nasty,” said Brenda, making a face for emphasis. “There were times I thought I was going to die.”
“We’re very glad that’s over and you look great,” said Maggie, bringing the bag of lobster rolls to the small table for them to pick up.
“This is so crazy,” said Brenda, taking off her mask so she could eat her chowder. “Liz, how long will we have to do this?”
Liz sat down with a mug of chowder. “Your guess is as good as mine. Probably until there’s a vaccine.”
“And when will that be?”
“Soon, I hope. Maybe by the end of the year, but that’s optimistic.”
Emily came out with a mug of chowder and sat next to her mother. She pushed the paper tray of fries closer so Nicki could reach them too. Cherie marveled that a girl with high-functioning autism could be so good with children, but Emily was always full of surprises.
“Cherie’s moving in with me,” Brenda suddenly said.
Cherie turned to her in surprise. “Did you need to make an announcement?”
“Of course. Everyone’s here. Why not?”
“Congratulations,” said Lucy, wiping ketchup off Nicki’s nose. “I’m happy for you both.”
Erika put down her lobster roll. “Liz, I forgot to tell you. Our refrigerator will be delivered next week. Then we can leave you and your family in peace.”
Liz looked up and down the picnic table. “It was kind of nice having such a big gang in the house. Amazingly, we’re all still friends. I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”
“We’re not gone yet,” said Erika. “You still have to put up with us for a while. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I’ll bet you’ll throw a party when we leave.”
“I bet you’re right,” said Liz with a quick grin. “But I’ll miss hearing Lucy sing me to sleep with lullabies.” She turned to Stefan sitting next to her. “Professor, I think you should think about staying with us a while longer. There have been quite a few cases in that senior residence of yours.”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” said Stefan. “The food is very
good here.”
Liz chuckled. “I always knew I missed my calling. I should have opened a B&B.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” said Maggie. “You still haven’t retired, and already you’re thinking of your next job.”
“Good thing she hasn’t retired,” said Cherie. “Can you imagine getting through this without her?”
“No, not me,” said Brenda. A chorus echoed her words.
Liz raised her glass of seltzer. “Here’s to the end of the pandemic and to getting through it together.”
“Here, here,” said Brenda and raised her glass.
Also by Elena Graf
THE PASSING RITES SERIES
OCCASIONS OF SIN
For seven centuries, the German convent of Obberoth has been hiding the nuns’ secrets—forbidden passions, scandalous manuscripts locked away, a ruined medical career, perhaps even a murder. In 1931, aristocratic physician, Margarethe von Stahle, is determined to lift the veil of secrecy surrounding her head nurse, Sister Augustine, only to find herself embroiled in multiple conflicts that threaten to unravel her orderly life.
LIES OF OMISSION
In 1938, the Nazis are imposing their doctrine of “racial hygiene” on hospitals and universities, forcing professors to teach false science and doctors to collaborate in a program to eliminate the mentally ill and handicapped. Margarethe von Stahle is desperately trying to find a way to practice ethical medicine. She has always avoided politics, but now she must decide whether to remain on the sidelines or act on her convictions.
ACTS OF CONTRITION
World War II has finally come to an end and Berlin has fallen. Nearly everything Margarethe von Stahle has sworn to protect has been lost. After being brutally abused by occupying Russian soldiers, Margarethe must rely on the kindness of her friends to survive. Fortunately, the American Army has brought her former protégée, Sarah Weber, back to Berlin. As Margarethe confronts painful events that occurred during the war, she must learn both to forgive and be forgiven.
HOBBS SERIES
HIGH OCTOBER
Liz Stolz and Maggie Fitzgerald were college roommates until Maggie confessed to her parents that she’d fallen in love with a woman. Maggie gave up her dream of becoming an actress and married her high school boyfriend. Liz became a famous breast surgeon. Maggie is performing in a summer stock production near the Maine town where Liz is now a general practitioner. When Maggie breaks her leg in a stage accident, she lands in Dr. Stolz’s office. Is forty years too long to wait for the one you love?
