Emily stood, wrapping her arms around herself. Ann waited patiently. "I hope I don't offend you when I say this, but I am in love with you." She turned to look at Ann whose features were highlighted by the firelight. "I know this must be totally foreign to you. I don't have any expectations. I just needed to tell you how I feel. I value your friendship more than you know, and I promise I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable."
Emily turned back to the fire. Ann waited a moment, then asked, "Can I say something now?"
Emily smiled and nodded. Ann stood to join her in front of the fire. "A couple of weeks ago, I told you, here in this kitchen, that I found myself drawn to you in a way I didn't understand. The real reason Paul left was because he felt he was in the way."
"Of what?"
"Of you and me." Ann diverted her eyes to the fire. "He said it was obvious that I was in love with you."
There was a profound silence in which the crackling of the fire sounded like gunshots. Emily's heart felt as if it had ceased to beat as she waited.
"Are you?" she whispered.
Ann closed her eyes, and shook her head. "I was so surprised when he said it, I didn't know what to think. I told you before that I wasn't sure what I felt. But I spent this past week trying to sort out my feelings, thinking about what it would mean to be in love with you, to be involved in a relationship with a woman."
Emily waited silently, giving Ann a chance to choose her words. "I knew after everything you've been through, you would probably have a hard time trusting the feelings of someone who's never been in a gay relationship, who might be tempted to run back to a man the first time things became unpleasant."
Emily couldn't help smiling. It was so like Ann to first consider whether her decision would hurt someone else, rather than simply acting on her feelings. She placed a hand on Ann's shoulder and turned her so that they were face to face.
"Are you?" she asked again.
Ann's eyes were a blue-gray in the firelight. Emily felt she was looking into Ann's soul.
"Yes," she said simply.
Emily pulled Ann into her arms, and held her so tightly her arms trembled. "Oh, Ann," she whispered, "you have no idea how I've longed to hear you say that." A tear squeezed out of her eye.
"You don't know how long I've waited to find the one I could say it to," Ann whispered back, newly aware of the softness of Emily's cheek on hers and the pressure of Emily's body against hers.
Neither of them was sure how long they had been standing there holding one another when they heard Mrs. Gundlach call, "Girls? Would you like some pie for dessert?"
Startled, they stepped back, smiling at each other. "That sounds good," Emily replied. They helped Mrs. Gundlach bring pie and coffee to the living room. As they were enjoying the delicious cherry pie, Mr. Gundlach suddenly got up and went out to the front porch. He was back in a few seconds.
"How would you like to go for a sleigh ride?" he asked with his twinkling smile.
"Really?" Ann asked. "I haven't been in a sleigh in years."
"I've never been," Emily said.
"Well, get dressed, and we'll harness the mares," he said.
Everyone bundled up in warm clothes and headed out to the barn. Mr. Gundlach gave instructions for harnessing the huge, gentle Percheron mares, Molly and Snow. Ann talked in a low voice to Snow as she put her bridle on. Listening to her, Emily and Mr. Gundlach smiled at each other as they pulled the sleigh into position and fastened the harness to the stays. Mrs. Gundlach brought heavy wool throws from the house and placed them in the sleigh. Greta sniffed and inspected everything, walking freely under the mares, who gazed at her placidly.
Soon they were seated with the Gundlachs in the front and Emily and Ann in the back seat. Mr. Gundlach clucked to the mares and they pulled the sleigh out into the snow. The soft shush of the runners blended with the muffled hoof beats in the quiet night. Snow was still falling in large airy flakes, and the half moon cast a silver glow on everything.
Under the wool throw, Ann reached over for Emily's hand. As their fingers twined together, Emily wondered if she were dreaming. Twenty-four hours ago, anything more than a friendship with Ann had seemed like a fantasy. She looked over to find Ann watching her. As their eyes met, the pressure of their hands increased.
Mr. Gundlach guided the horses down the road to an open gate allowing entrance to a large pasture with scattered trees. At the rear of the pasture was a barely discernible road cut through the trees. The moon shadows of the bare branches rippled over them as they glided by underneath. The horses seemed to be enjoying the outing also, trotting along smartly through the deepening snow. Greta bounded alongside. Mr. Gundlach began telling stories from his childhood, of rides with his family all jammed into the sleigh for trips to town for supplies in winter. They laughed as he recounted some of the mischief he and his brothers got into.
Warmed by the laughter and the camaraderie, they were all surprised to find themselves approaching the house almost an hour later. As they worked together to unharness the horses, their breath hung as clouds of vapor. Once the horses were bedded down with warm rugs draped over them, the humans and dog all headed back to the house. They left their snowy boots on the back porch and padded into the warm kitchen in their socks. Mr. Gundlach stoked the fire while his wife made hot chocolate. They warmed up inside and out. Ann and Emily both glowed, but it had nothing to do with either the cocoa or the fire.
"Oh gosh!" Ann exclaimed. "I hadn't realized the time! It's after eleven. I'd better be going."
"Why don't you spend the night?" Emily offered. She immediately wondered if Ann thought the invitation was based on other motives.
Ann smiled. "That sounds like fun. It'll be like old times."
They cleared away the dishes, and punched the logs down, closing the fireplace doors, and then headed upstairs. Emily got out a big t-shirt for Ann to wear, and went to the bathroom first to give Ann time to change. After Ann had washed and brushed her teeth, she rejoined Emily in the bedroom.
In the dim glow from the bedside lamp, Emily looked even more tan. Ann climbed into bed and sat beside Emily, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She realized how unsure she was of how to proceed. She raised her eyes to find Emily smiling at her. "What?" she asked, blushing.
Emily's smile broadened. "I've finally got you in my bed," she teased.
"You had me in your bed for a whole week," Ann reminded her.
"Yes, but you were lame. I couldn't take advantage of you when running away wasn't an option," she grinned.
"How chivalrous," Ann quipped, one eyebrow raised.
Emily's expression became serious. "On that note, there is something I want to talk to you about." She reached over and took Ann's hand in hers. She traced the delicate tips of her fingers. "You are so incredibly beautiful," she said, distracted from what she had wanted to say. "I hope you don't mind my saying that. Your beauty is one aspect of who you are, but it's not why I love you."
Ann smiled and reached out to touch Emily's cheek. "I don't mind your saying it. Hearing it from you is the only time I have felt truly beautiful." She traced the shape of Emily's lips. "I hope you know how beautiful you are also." She placed her fingers under Emily's chin and gently brought Emily's mouth to hers. She was stunned by the softness of her lips. They kissed slowly, deeply, getting to know one another. "Oh, Emily," Ann whispered weakly, resting her forehead against Emily's. "I never imagined a kiss could feel so gentle and so intense at the same time."
"There's a lot you haven't imagined," Emily smiled. Then, "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." Ann sat up and turned to sit cross-legged facing her. "I know the past week has probably opened your eyes to a lot of things you've never thought about, at least in terms of your lifestyle." She paused to clear her throat. "Falling in love is very intoxicating, and making love makes it even more intoxicating. Before this week, you weren't sure what you felt for me. I don't want to be remembered like a bad hangover."
&n
bsp; She reached out to take Ann's hand in both of hers. "I waited a long time for you to come into my life, and I'm not willing to settle for an affair with you. I want a life with you. And although I really, really want to make love with you, that's a small part of being married to someone. I want you to consider whether you could be married to me before we go any further."
She watched Ann's face carefully as she finished. "Have I offended you? I didn't mean to be presumptuous…"
"Emily, be quiet."
Emily obediently became silent.
"How could I be offended by what I think was a marriage proposal?" Ann smiled. "But I have to admit that when you mentioned the word marriage, I realized that I still reserve that concept for male-female couples. I hadn't thought about our relationship on those terms." She paused, looking down at their intertwined fingers.
"You're right, you know," she admitted. "This whole week I have felt, as you said, intoxicated. I can understand your need to have me think about the consequences of any decisions we make. So I agree; we should wait to go any further." As she finished, she slid down under the covers
"Damn," Emily grumbled. "I was afraid you'd agree with me." Ann chuckled softly as Emily turned out the lamp.
Chapter 23
The next few weeks flew by as Emily settled back into her class schedule. She had a great deal of research to do for her own classes as well as keeping ahead of her teaching load and trying to supervise the other teaching assistants. Ann's schedule also intensified with exams and papers every couple of days in one class or another. They spent most evenings studying together, either in the library or at the Gundlachs'. Emily avoided Ann's invitations to study at her apartment, not trusting herself to be alone with her. They had also resumed their early morning workouts, Emily running at the student rec center now that the snow was a constant, and Ann confining her riding to the indoor ring as she let her ankle adapt to the stresses placed on it.
Emily had vowed she would not push Ann for a decision, nor would she allude to the question with constant analysis of their relationship. For her, it was enough that Ann still chose to spend time with her.
For her part, Ann found Emily's presence more comfortable than any person she had ever known. Their conversations ranged from discussions of ancient European literature to gay discrimination in the military to their favorite old movies. Without having set ground rules, it seemed to be a given that they would be absolutely honest with each other, even when honesty was not especially flattering. Their friendship deepened considerably during this period.
One evening, when Ann came to the Gundlachs' to study, she said, "There was a message from my parents on my machine. When I called, they wanted to know what you're doing for Thanksgiving. If you don't have plans, they would love for you to join us."
Emily was startled to realize that it was already mid-November. She hadn't even thought about Thanksgiving. She wouldn't have time to go home to Pennsylvania, nor did she really want to go. "Are you sure I wouldn't be intruding?"
"Are you kidding?" Ann smiled. "My parents really want you to come. You'll get to meet Michael."
"Your brother. You don't speak of him often," Emily observed.
"Michael is four years older, so we never had the same set of friends. I know he didn't understand why I didn't go straight to college. He thinks the Peace Corps was a big waste of time. In Michael's mind, if it didn't earn money, it wasn't worth pursuing."
"That surprises me," Emily said. "Neither of your parents seems to have that attitude."
"They don't at all. They've always been politically active – very left wing," she said with a smile. "Mom used to work with Dad until we were born, and since then her energy has gone into volunteer work. She's very involved with a couple of different AIDS groups. Ironically, her pharmaceutical connections are one of her biggest strengths; she bombards them with requests for free or discount drugs for various low-income programs. My parents have always contributed to the arts and to groups that provide opportunities for poor children to experience museum trips and outdoor camps. I don't think they have ever taken for granted how fortunate we are, but I think for Michael, there's a feeling that he has to compete with Dad to prove himself." She got back to the original topic. "So, will you come?"
As Emily looked into Ann's hopeful eyes, her heart warmed. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend Thanksgiving with."
Ann beamed, and Emily swore the room brightened with her radiance.
Chapter 24
Ann sat in her French class on Wednesday with growing nervousness. For the past few weeks, she had felt alternately exhilarated and terrified about publicly presenting the poem she had picked, not only to Lise and her classmates, but to Emily, who had asked if it would make Ann too nervous if she were present. Three times she had started to prepare a different presentation, but each time she was drawn back to her original choice.
Monday's class had been fun, with two students presenting a one-act play, and another a dramatic reading from a biography of St. Joan of Arc, complete with cardboard armor. Today, she watched Emily as she spoke with Lise prior to class. She noticed how often Emily gestured with her hands as she expressed herself. She also noticed how easily she smiled and laughed lately. As Emily headed to the back of the class to observe, Ann handed her an envelope.
The class began with a female student singing a French folk song, accompanying herself on a guitar.
"Ann?" Lise called as the applause faded.
Ann took a deep breath, and handed Lise a copy of the complete poem, both in French and with her translation. She went to the front of the room and cleared her throat. Speaking in French, she began, "As I was searching for a topic for this assignment, I came across small excerpts of works written by women in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, but I had trouble finding complete works. It seems that many of the poems and books written by women exist only in rather obscure collections." She paused and saw that Emily was reading her paper which also contained the entire poem and translation.
"I was able to locate a poem by a woman who called herself Renée Vivien. She was born in London as Pauline Mary Tarn, but she adopted Paris as her home at the turn of the century, and wrote under her pseudonym. I'll read part of her poem titled "Words For My Friend:"
"See: I am at the age where the maiden surrenders her hand
To the man whom her frailty seeks and dreads,
And I have not yet chosen my companion along the way,
Because you appeared at a turn in the path.
The hyacinth bled over the red hills
You dreamed and Love walked by your side…
I am a woman, I have no right to beauty.
I have been condemned to the ugliness of men."
Ann looked up to find Emily's gaze fixed on her. She couldn't be certain, but she thought Emily's eyes might be shining with tears. She felt her face get hot, and looking down, she continued.
"And I had the inexcusable audacity to desire
A sonorous love created from light innocence,
The furtive footstep that doesn't even bruise the ferns
And the sweet voice that blends with the evening.
I have been forbidden your hair, your eyes,
Because your hair is long and fragrant
And because your eyes hold a strange ardour.
And they become cloudy like rebellious waves.
They point at me with angry gestures,
Because my eyes sought your tender gaze…
Seeing us pass by, no one has wanted to understand
That I have chosen you with simplicity."
There was polite applause from her classmates as Ann sat down. She knew they hadn't understood what Renée Vivien was writing about. A few months ago, she might not have either. Everything seemed changed now. These past few weeks she had looked at the world differently, realizing the enormity of the expectation that everyone will pair up with someone of the opposite gender. Simple romantic gestures
such as a quiet dinner at a nice restaurant or ordering flowers to be delivered could become challenges if your companion was of the same gender.
She sat absorbed in her thoughts, oblivious to the presentation which followed hers. She was startled by the applause which interrupted her train of thought. Class was over. What to say to Emily? How to act? Emily stopped beside her, and there was no time to compose herself. She looked up, unable to mask her emotions, and felt herself fall into the golden depths of Emily's eyes. Emily laid her hand on Ann's shoulder for a moment and dropped a folded piece of paper in her lap.
Looking Through Windows Page 12
