Looking Through Windows

by Caren J. Werlinger

  "I guess Paul's visit was a big catalyst," Ann replied honestly. "And so many of my friends are married now... I've just been thinking a lot about my future."

  She looked at her mother with eyes incapable of deceit, and Katharine saw a parade of emotions in them – joy, doubt, worry. She longed to reassure Ann about what lay unspoken between them, but she sensed that she needed to let Ann reach the point of being able to talk about it.

  Further conversation was interrupted by Owen's sleepy entrance. "Good morning," he yawned. "Kate, those cinnamon rolls smell heavenly," he said as he kissed her. He kissed the top of Ann's head on his way to the coffee pot.

  "They'll be done soon," Katharine said with a smile. "Ann, why don't you go see if Emily is up?"

  "She is," came Emily's voice from the hallway as she popped into the kitchen. "Who could sleep through the aroma of those rolls? Ummmm," she took another long whiff. "Refills anyone?" she asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

  "I'm ready for more," Ann said. Katharine did a double-take at the radiant expression on Ann's face as Emily refilled her cup.

  "Katharine?" Emily offered, and Katharine held her cup out.

  "How did you girls sleep?" Owen asked innocently.

  Katharine almost choked on her coffee as Ann's face turned a deep crimson. She looked over at Emily who was smiling at the coffee pot.

  "We slept well," Emily came to Ann's rescue. "That bed is very comfortable."

  "Good," Owen said, looking a little perplexed.

  To everyone's relief, the timer on the oven went off. After Katharine iced the warm rolls, they all ate until they hurt. After they had finished, Ann and Emily stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. Katharine then shooed everyone out of the kitchen.

  "How about a walk?" Ann suggested.

  "That sounds wonderful," Emily said as she rubbed her stuffed belly.

  They put on boots and jackets and walked down the long driveway.

  Emily looked over at Ann. "Are you all right?"

  Ann stopped and looked at Emily with shining eyes. "I'm very all right. Did you think I wouldn't be?"

  "Well, you know, morning after syndrome," Emily shrugged.

  Ann laughed. "Sorry, but you're not getting out of this that easily. You made me wait until I was sure," she took Emily's mittened hand, "so now you're stuck with me."

  "Gladly," Emily grinned.

  "Come on," Ann said as she hopped the fence lining the drive. Emily followed, and they had to stoop to push their way through the drooping branches of a stand of hemlocks, which had filtered out most of the snow, leaving only a thick mat of needles. "This place always felt holy to me," Ann whispered as they stopped and listened to the hushed rustle of pine boughs in the light breeze. "I always felt completely enclosed in here."

  She sat down at the base of one of the largest trunks, a vast network of gnarled roots spreading out about the tree. Emily joined her and they sat for a while in silence.

  "I used to pretend that this was an ancient forest with elves and gnomes and fairies," Ann remembered with a smile.

  "You must have had quite an imagination," Emily laughed.

  "Oh, I did," Ann agreed. "I would pack myself a lunch and be out here all day, playing and pretending."

  "All alone?"

  "Usually. I had no trouble making up enough characters to keep myself entertained." She turned to look at Emily. "What were you like as a child?"

  Emily stared off as if trying to see a picture of her younger self. "I liked to read a lot, but playing usually took the form of baseball, basketball or football with the boys in the neighborhood. In high school, I took up tennis and running, more individual sports."

  "Did you have lots of friends?" Ann asked curiously.

  "No, lots of acquaintances, but only a couple of friends," Emily responded. "We've pretty much lost touch since high school and college. My fault mostly. You probably had a huge circle of friends."

  Ann smiled. "I'm afraid so. By the time I was in high school, I loved being involved with everything. I was on just about every school committee." She paused for a moment. "But while I was in Europe and Africa, that all seemed to change. My contact with those old friends seems very superficial now. When I do see them, the conversation doesn't seem capable of moving past children or redecorating, which is okay, but if you're not at that point in your own life, there's just not much in common."

  Ann got to her feet and said, "Come on, let's go back to the old barn."

  "Are you sure?" Emily asked. "Won't it give you flashbacks?"

  "Very funny," Ann made a face. "You just don't want to have to carry me again."

  They walked across a couple of fields, hopping over a low stone wall along the way. As they topped a knoll, the barn came into view, the upper branches of the tall pines layered with snow. As they had done the last time, they paused inside to let their eyes get used to the dim light. Unlike the last time, this pause took the form of a long, passionate kiss that left both of them aching for more. Forcing themselves to show restraint, they explored the lower floor. The packed dirt floor was very dry. Emily ran her hands over the posts supporting the beams. She could still feel the ridges left by the adz which had hewn the roughly square shape of the posts.

  "You're right," she said enthusiastically, "with flooring and some kind of heat, this barn would make a wonderful retreat."

  "Putting large windows in the south wall would let all kinds of light in," Ann added.

  "And over here, we could –" Emily stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry," she stammered, shaking her head.

  "Don't be," Ann reassured her.

  "Ann, you haven't met my family, and I haven't met all of yours. I don't want us to jump into the future when we don't even know what the present holds."

  Ann considered her words. "You're right," she conceded, "we do still have a lot of things to deal with," she laid her hand on Emily's arm, "but don't be afraid to dream with me."

  Emily smiled. "I truly do love you."

  Ann hugged her and whispered, "I know you do. Now, where should we put our bedroom?"

  Emily laughed and swung Ann around. They spent the next hour remodeling the barn in their minds and turning it into a home. At length, they headed back toward the house, tracing the route they had taken the day Ann broke her ankle. As they approached the house, they could see a black BMW parked in the driveway.

  "Michael is here!" Ann cried, grabbing Emily's hand and running the last few yards to the back door. She burst into the kitchen and flung herself into her brother's arms.

  "Annie!" He held her tightly, and set her down to take a good look at her. "What's up with you?"

  In answer, she said, "Michael, I want you to meet Emily. Emily, this is my big brother, Michael."

  Emily shook hands with a male version of Ann. Michael was very handsome with thick black hair and very blue eyes. He stood about six two and seemed to present a lean silhouette under his bulky sweater and corduroys. Michael's handshake was firm and his smile was friendly, but Emily could see the curiosity in his eyes.

  Katharine put sandwich fixings on the table and placed a large pot of steaming vegetable soup in the center. They all sat and ate. Ann caught Michael up on her progress at school, and Michael spoke of his work as a financial officer for a large investment firm based in Manhattan. Listening to him talk, Emily could tell how motivated he was by the challenge of constantly improving his numbers. He spoke of margins and ratios of whose meaning she was clueless. She could see by Ann's expression as she listened that she adored her older brother. At length, Michael inquired of Emily as to what she did and where she was from.

  "I'm a teacher raised by parents who are both teachers. I'm afraid the only important numbers we deal with are grade point averages," she smiled. She got up to carry dishes to the sink, and Ann provided more detail on Emily's accomplishments.

  Owen, who had been filled in by Katharine about her conversation with Ann, came over to the sink. "How would you like to go i
nto Boston tonight for dinner?" he asked.

  Emily looked up at him. "Are you sure you want to drive in? You do that trip all the time. Why don't we just go back to the Italian restaurant here in town?"

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes," she smiled, "but thank you for asking. We'll go to Boston another time."

  "It's a deal," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

  After the dishes were done, Owen and Michael went into the den to watch television. Katharine wanted to go through her cookbooks to finalize her choices for tomorrow's feast. Ann and Emily both realized how tired they were since most of the previous night hadn't involved sleep. They kicked off their shoes and fell on top of the comforter. Emily spooned in behind Ann and fell asleep with the scent of Ann's hair in her nostrils.

  They awakened with a start as Katharine knocked on the door, calling, "Girls! It's time to get dressed for dinner."

  "Thanks, Mom," Ann called out. She rolled onto her back and stretched. Emily ran her hand lightly over Ann's stomach under her sweater, and felt the taut muscles quiver at her touch.

  "I am amazed at the effect even your simplest touch has on me," Ann said, pulling Emily to her for a kiss.

  As if at a spoken command, they broke off the kiss and both sat up. "Later," Emily said, and they rose to get dressed. Ann wore a black sweater dress, which clung flatteringly to her body. Emily did a double take when she saw her.

  "Wow," she breathed.

  Ann smiled as she admired Emily in an olive silk blouse and tan silk slacks. "Just one more," she whispered as she pressed her body against Emily's for a long, soft kiss. Emily groaned and rested her forehead against Ann's shoulder. Ann laughed softly and took Emily's hand to lead her to the hallway.

  Chapter 28

  Most of Thanksgiving morning was spent in the kitchen, with everybody participating in various stages of food preparation and cleaning up. Emily felt very much at home as she freely joined in the conversation and the jokes. She felt a twinge of homesickness. Not since she had been an undergrad had she spent much time at home, and after she had met Caroline, every visit home had felt unbearably long as she waited for the time they could be together again.

  "Emily?" Katharine laid a hand on her shoulder as she stood with a big bowl of potatoes in her arms, suspended in the middle of mashing them. "Are you all right?"

  Emily laughed self-consciously and turned a deep red. "I'm fine. I just got lost in thought."

  "You can call your family after dinner," Katharine said as she went to take the turkey out of the oven.

  Emily looked at her in astonishment, and then saw Ann smiling at her.

  "It's a mother thing," Ann shrugged.

  Owen carved the turkey, and they all sat down to eat. Before beginning, they held hands and said grace. Ann gave Emily's hand a firm squeeze before letting go. The kitchen was actually quiet as everyone concentrated on eating, accompanied only by the snapping of the fire in the woodstove. As their forks slowed, the conversation resumed. After seconds and some third helpings, they all felt sufficiently stuffed.

  The dishes were quickly cleared away, and then Owen pulled an even larger turkey out of the oven and began carving it.

  "What's that for?" Emily asked.

  "We always take the extra one down to the church for anyone who doesn't have family or anywhere to go," Ann explained.

  "We'll have dessert later, after we get back," Katharine said.

  Emily was amazed at the activity in the church hall. There were tables set with tablecloths and candles, dishes and silverware. At the tables were seated elderly people whose hands shook as they ate, homeless people with their belongings in sacks at their feet, well-dressed families who decided to eat their meal of Thanksgiving with those who usually eat alone. Other people were busy serving, carrying large bowls or platters and offering extra helpings to anyone who was still hungry. Apparently this went on all afternoon with people helping out in shifts. As Katharine, Owen and Michael disappeared into the kitchen, Emily was handed an apron and a large bowl of bread stuffing. She followed Ann's lead and started asking those at the tables if they wanted more. She felt overwhelmed at the gratitude expressed by the recipients. One old woman took Emily's hand in both of her gnarled ones and thanked her with a toothless grin. Emily couldn't help but wonder who should be thanking whom. She looked up to find Ann watching her from a few tables away. Their eyes locked in a gaze as tangible as an embrace.

  After a couple of hours, they returned home for pumpkin pie and coffee. A fresh snow had begun to fall, and the clouds made it seem that dusk had arrived early. Her pie gone, Emily sat with her second cup of coffee nestled in both hands, letting the warmth spread to her whole body.

  "Thank you all for one of the nicest Thanksgivings I can remember," she said sincerely.

  "We're very glad you could join us," Katharine said. "Why don't you go call your family? You can use the phone in Owen's study."

  "Thanks." Emily took her coffee with her. She liked the study. It smelled of leather and faintly of Owen's cologne. It wasn't a typical dark, masculine room. The furniture was cherry Mission style, with a large desk, two leather cushioned sofas facing one another in front of the fireplace and another chair near the windows. The walls were a pale sage green with stained woodwork.

  She sat in the leather chair behind the desk and dialed her parents' number, and after two rings, heard her father's voice answer.

  "Em!" he said warmly as he recognized her voice. He informed her that her sister and brother and their families were all there, watching football following dinner. He filled her in on the weather and how school was going. She did the same. He asked how she was, but didn't ask where she was. After a few minutes, he passed the phone on to her mother and then to her siblings. The conversation was polite and superficial, as always. After she hung up, she sat staring at the phone. She could hear the love in her parents' voices and the hesitation as well. She knew they must have been aware of the tension during her visits home without Caroline, the secretive phone calls late at night so Caroline's parents wouldn't know. They had interpreted her silence as a wish for privacy, which they had respected. But the silence had become a wall between them, especially after Caroline's death. Her visits home had become increasingly more uncomfortable. She simply hadn't been able to bear watching her sister and brother interacting with their spouses and, later, children. She could share neither their joy nor her grief. Now she felt permanently trapped in a middle zone where the conversation consisted only of safe topics such as work and the weather.

  There was a soft knock on the door, and Ann poked her head in. "Are you okay?" she asked, concerned.

  Emily realized she had been in there almost an hour. "I'm sorry," she apologized.

  "I was worried about you," Ann said, coming to her. Emily stood and held her tightly. "Is your family okay?" she asked, still concerned.

  "Oh, they're fine," Emily sighed. "Everything is the same as it always is." She let Ann go, saying, "Come on."

  They rejoined the family in the kitchen where they were getting set to play poker, using matchsticks to bet with. Emily had never played poker, so they taught her for the first three hands. Two hours later, she had acquired a large pile of wooden matchsticks.

  "It's a good thing I'm not a pyromaniac," she gloated as she scooped up her matches like a pirate sifting through her booty.

  "We may have created a monster," Ann grumbled, with only two matchsticks left before her.

  "Come on," Emily laughed, "just to show you I'm a good sport, I'll use my winnings to start a fire in the den."

  Within a few minutes, there was a roaring fire in the fireplace. Emily turned from the hearth to find that Michael was in the chair she had adopted.

  "Lie down here," Ann said, patting the pillow she was lying on. Emily chided herself for feeling self-conscious about such a simple gesture. She stretched out on the thick Berber carpet next to Ann and felt the electricity as their shou
lders rested against each other. She was barely aware of the movie on television; every one of her senses was focused on Ann. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this happy. She had only dreamed of being able to spend holidays with the woman she loved as part of a family gathering. Her joy was tempered, though, by the knowledge that Ann's family didn't know about their relationship. That unknown was a small grain of worry, which was a constant source of irritation, never leaving her completely free to enjoy herself. Emily felt Ann's arm press more tightly against hers, as if Ann could read her thoughts and was trying to offer reassurance.

  When the movie was over, Owen and Katharine said goodnight. Emily sensed Ann's desire to stay in front of the fire, but Michael went to the sofa, picked up the remote and began switching channels. After a few moments, with the television settled on a police drama, Emily got up and said goodnight, hoping that Ann would follow.