Autumn Spring

by Shelley Thrasher

  “I warned you. I just learned I need to go pick up my granddaughter and take her to her dance lesson. Want to ride along?”

  Bree wanted to kick herself for falling asleep instead of spending this amazing autumn afternoon with Linda. “I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. Can I have a rain check?”

  “Oh, come on. What else do you have to do? It won’t take long, and then I’ll fix some of my famous spaghetti for supper. Interested?”

  “Now you’re talking. Let’s go.” Bree jumped up and walked with Linda to her CR-V.

  Linda could make even a routine drive to pick up a kid sound like an adventure. Suddenly Bree was wide-awake and looking forward to something she’d never dreamed of doing.

  *

  The line of cars waiting at the elementary school stretched around the block. With a large placard bearing the name Riley Morton displayed prominently in the windshield of Linda’s car, they inched closer to the front of the building. A group of youngsters was darting around like a bunch of minnows, a group of adults standing nearby, and Bree squirmed in the front passenger seat, tapping the armrest. This wasn’t as enjoyable as she’d anticipated. In fact, the wait bored her silly.

  “Do you have to do this very often?” she finally asked.

  “Yes. Why do you think I bought this SUV?” Linda gestured toward the backseat. “Sometimes I have to pick up not only a grandchild but several of their friends.”

  Linda continued to inch forward, and when she finally reached the waiting children, a little girl sprinted toward them, carrying a backpack. The woman who seemed to be escorting her waved to Linda in acknowledgment.

  “Hi, Granny,” the girl called as she jerked open the back door. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Bree.”

  Bree unbuckled her seat belt, turned around in her seat, and stuck out her right hand. “Hi. And who are you?” She found herself face-to-face with a miniature Linda, only a few years younger than Linda had been when they first met.

  Riley looked a little surprised, then said, “I’m Riley. Bree? That’s a funny name. How old are you?”

  “Uh, I’m sixty-nine. What about you?”

  “I’m ten. Wow. You’re really ancient, aren’t you?”

  “That’s enough, Riley. Buckle your seat belt,” Linda said as she threw the placard into the backseat. They reached the street and she began to accelerate.

  “You too, Bree,” Linda said.

  Riley snickered as Bree clicked her seat belt into place again and said, “Yes, ma’am,” with a grin. Actually talking to Riley was a lot more fun than waiting for her to show up had been.

  “Did you learn much in school today, Riley?” Linda asked.

  Just like her dad used to do, Bree thought and turned to look at Linda.

  “Not really. We studied how to multiply our elevens and twelves, but I learned them last year.” Riley stared at Bree. “Hey. Why’s your hair two different colors?”

  Bree glanced back at Riley. “Why’s your hair red?”

  Riley grinned. “That’s just the way it grows.”

  “Well, this is just the way mine grows. It used to be all black, but then my bangs started turning silver so I just left them that way.”

  “Do you dye it? My aunt Ann dyes hers yellow.”

  Bree laughed, and Linda took a right, then a left onto a major highway. “You better not let your aunt Ann hear you say that, Riley.”

  “Why not? It’s the truth. I saw her do it one day.”

  “Not all people like to hear the truth,” Linda said. “Don’t you remember how upset Aunt Ann got when you asked her how old she was?”

  “Yes, ma’am. She told me she’d give me a whipping if I asked her anything else like that. She said it was none of my business. Why isn’t it? She knows how old I am.”

  Just then Linda pulled up to a local dance studio. “Here we are, Riley. Your daddy will be by to pick you up when your class ends.”

  Riley grabbed her backpack and jumped out of the car. Then she walked over to the window next to Bree and knocked on it. After Bree lowered the window, Riley said, “I like you, Bree. But you better not hurt my granny’s feelings like that other lady did.” She blew Linda a kiss and ran away.

  “Wow,” Bree said as she raised the window. “What was that all about?”

  Linda blushed. “I’ll tell you over supper. Do you mind if we stop by Kroger for just a minute? I need to pick up a couple of things. No need for you to come in unless you want to.”

  As Bree sat in the car waiting for Linda, she couldn’t stop chuckling. That little Riley reminded her of a small version of Linda with a big dose of attitude added. She liked her.

  True to her word, Linda was soon back in the car, and they headed toward her house. “I don’t want to rush you, but I have a board meeting at the church tonight and need to be there by seven. Is it all right if we eat a little early?”

  “Fine with me. I’ll take home cooking whatever time I can get it. I have only one requirement, though.”

  Linda glanced at her and raised a brow. “What’s that?”

  “You have to let me take you out to eat. I’m not a freeloader.”

  “I doubt anyone would ever accuse you of that. But it’s a deal. The only problem is finding somewhere around here that serves good food. We have Italian, Asian, catfish, Southern, and Mexican, Mexican, Mexican.”

  Bree laughed. “We’ll just have to try them all and see which one’s the best. Finding a good place to eat out is a problem even in a big city like Chicago.”

  As they parked in Linda’s driveway, Bree said, “Riley’s quite a kid, isn’t she? How many grandchildren did you say you have?”

  Linda grabbed her small bag of groceries from the backseat. “Four. She’s the youngest and the most outspoken.”

  Bree took the bag from her as they neared the house. “Whew. That’s good to know. I’m not sure I could stand up to the grilling I’d get from three others like her.”

  Linda opened the back door and waved her in. “Believe it or not, the others are mild mannered and even a little shy around strangers, so you can take it easy. You’ve met the worst of the lot.”

  Bree looked around as they walked directly into a large kitchen. Shiny pots and pans hung from a pot rack over a large island, and light-colored cabinets lined the wall behind the sink. The kitchen opened into a large area filled with a dining table and chairs and a den-like area dotted with comfortable-looking sofas and chairs that focused on a large television set and a wood-burning stove.

  “Just set that sack on the island. I need to put the spaghetti sauce on to cook first. Then I’ll show you the rest of the house. Want something to drink?”

  “I’d kill for a glass of water. Talking to Riley made me thirsty.”

  “Coming right up. Ice or not?”

  “Ice, please. This is the South. Don’t all drinks except hot coffee come with it?”

  “Of course. I was just testing your memory of all things Southern.”

  Linda handed her a large red plastic glass full of ice water. “Go sit down and turn on the TV if you want. I won’t be long.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Nope. I’ve got it covered. Just relax.”

  Bree happily complied. She usually stayed as far away from a kitchen as she could manage, though now she wondered if Linda’s presence might make it a more enjoyable place than she’d always found it.

  *

  Linda loved the pungent smell of onions and garlic cooking. As she browned chopped onions and garlic along with the pound of ground sirloin she’d just bought, she glanced over at Bree, who sat engrossed in a magazine she’d picked up from the coffee table. She seemed completely at home in Mike’s old large leather chair. How many times had Linda looked up from the stove to see him there?

  She retrieved a jar of tomatoes and a can of tomato sauce from the pantry, opened them, and poured them into the steaming skillet. After adding water and seasoning, she placed a lid
on the bubbling mixture and turned the heat to low.

  Then she made a quick green salad and joined Bree. “What are you reading?”

  Bree looked up as if she’d forgotten where she was and held up an old National Geographic. “Oh, just an article about what our Stone Age ancestors ate. That smells great.”

  Linda glanced around the room, which looked reasonably tidy. Thank goodness the cat hadn’t made a deposit in her litter box in the corner. And the last grandchildren here hadn’t left games strewn all over the place. She’d even brought in some wood for the stove in case it got chilly later.

  “Nice room,” Bree commented, looking around as if for the first time. She’d evidently zeroed in on the reading material when she first sat down.

  “Yes. It’s seen a lot of action over the years. I’m glad Mike felt guilty enough to leave me the house in the settlement.”

  Bree appeared as if she didn’t know what to say, so Linda changed the subject. “You asked me earlier what Riley was talking about when she threatened you. Still want to know?”

  Bree nodded. “I wasn’t sure you wanted to discuss it. But yes, I am curious.” Bree closed the magazine and tossed it back onto the coffee table.

  Bree was right. Linda wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about Riley’s threat, but she didn’t know anyone else who might understand as well as Bree might. Even Sandy had seemed a little mystified by the situation.

  She took a deep breath. “After Mike told me he wanted a divorce, my world fell apart. It was odd. One day I knew exactly who I was and where I fit, and the next I felt like a stranger, to others and to myself.” Bree’s sympathetic look helped her continue. “Sandy and Carolyn blustered about what a jerk he was for running around on me, which did help salve my hurt feelings, but back then I didn’t have the insight or the courage to admit my part in the divorce.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You got married young and didn’t have many role models. You did the best you could.”

  Linda shifted on the couch to face Bree more fully. “But you recognized your preference for women early on. Why couldn’t I?”

  “You must have wanted a family a lot more than I did.” Bree shrugged. “How many women did you see having children and raising them as a married couple?”

  “None.”

  “So how would you know that was even an option?”

  Linda sighed in relief. Bree seemed to understand. “That’s a good point.”

  Bree moved a little closer. “Tell me about the woman that upset Riley—if you want to.”

  “Oh. Where to begin?” The experience still embarrassed and puzzled her. “Mike had just moved out, and I had no idea how lonely I could be until that happened.”

  “When was that?”

  “About five years ago. Riley had just turned five, and my oldest grandchild was ten, so I had plenty of company when I felt like babysitting. But my bed felt so big and empty with Mike gone.”

  “That’s probably a normal reaction after sleeping with someone for, what, almost forty years?”

  “You’re right. But I sure didn’t feel normal.”

  “I’ve heard divorce can really do a number on people. What happened?”

  Linda took a deep breath. “Not long after the divorce was final, I had to go to a weeklong conference in New Orleans.”

  “And?”

  If Bree hadn’t listened so intently, Linda wouldn’t have continued. “I met a woman there. She seemed strong and confident, and she didn’t make any bones about being interested in me.”

  Bree grinned. “Attractive, I bet.”

  “Absolutely. And very sophisticated.” Linda still remembered how much the woman had excited her. “We hit it off immediately, and after we had dinner together a few times, I drank a little too much and ended up in her bed.” She glanced at Bree, who acted like she’d just confessed that she’d ordered raw oysters instead of saying she’d slept with a woman for the first time.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  Linda gulped, suddenly thirsty. “Yes. More than I ever thought possible. Much more than I ever had with Mike.”

  “And you felt guilty.”

  “And thrilled and totally infatuated.”

  “Did she feel the same?”

  “She definitely seemed excited.”

  “Go on.”

  Linda jumped up. “How about something to drink, Bree?”

  “Sure. Water’s fine.”

  “Great. Be right back.” She grabbed Bree’s empty glass.

  Linda handed Bree a refill and downed half a bottle herself, then sat down again.

  “Okay. Back to my first lesbian affair.” This time she confided in Bree more easily. “The woman lived in Dallas, so we didn’t have much trouble seeing each other.” Linda’s earlobes felt hot. “In fact, we even met at a motel in Tyler a few times. But mostly I drove to Dallas when we had some free time, and we spent most of our time in bed. Being with her was like a revelation, and I was over the moon.”

  “You didn’t ask her to come visit you here?”

  “No. Not for quite some time.” Linda frowned. “I must have sensed how she’d react.”

  Bree took her hand. “And how did she?”

  “She hated being in a small town. Said it was boring and everyone was narrow-minded. She obviously didn’t like children very much either, so that’s why Riley said what she did.”

  “Not a very positive introduction to a new and different life, was it?”

  Linda shook her head. “We didn’t see each other after that, and I did miss the sex.”

  “So how did you find out about TAG?”

  “That’s a slightly different story, but I did have some help.”

  “What kind?”

  Linda smiled with pleasure. “My daughter Maureen visited after living on her own for several years and came out to me. She said she’d wanted to for ages but was afraid I wouldn’t understand.”

  “Perfect.”

  Linda nodded. “For both of us. I was obviously very accepting, and she told me about the PFLAG group in Tyler.”

  “Aha. That makes sense.”

  “Yes. I went to several meetings, and that’s where I found out about TAG. It had just been organized.”

  “So now you’re able to learn about the gay life at your own pace.”

  “You must think I’m extremely slow, but with all my other responsibilities and interests, I don’t want to go overboard like I did at first. I’ve gotten used to sleeping alone, and knowing that other people similar to me live just an hour’s drive away makes me feel a lot less lonely. Now that you’re here…”

  Bree patted her hand and pulled away slightly. “I’m glad you told me all this. I’m pretty up in the air right now, what with Mother’s changed circumstances and being back in town after all this time.”

  “I hope you’ll stay a long time, especially since I like to cook and you like to eat home cooking. Speaking of—I need to stir the sauce.” She leaned over and pecked Bree on the cheek, then jumped up and hurried over to the stove, her lips throbbing and her cheeks burning. But now Bree knew what a loser she was—with women as well as men.

  *

  “Yum. Delicious. What’s your secret?” Bree asked after she tasted the spaghetti Linda had heaped on her plate. Poor Linda. Bree couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to have her first lesbian affair with such an insensitive woman. It had been difficult to have Ann break her heart when she was eighteen, but at sixty? That took a kind of strength Bree wasn’t sure she had.

  “My secret’s probably the homegrown tomatoes in the sauce. I grow a couple of rows of them every summer and can the ones we don’t eat fresh.”

  Bree refocused on their meal and broke off a small bit of the piece of crusty French bread. “I didn’t know anyone did that anymore.”

  “We don’t have gardens like our parents used to, but a lot of people still have small ones.” Linda sipped her glass of ice water.

  “Really?” Bree h
adn’t paid much attention to that sort of thing when she was younger. She’d been too busy with school activities and her social life.

  Linda put down her fork. “Really. You should see the garden centers of our local Lowe’s, Home Depot, and Walmart. As soon as all the decorations and trees are cleared out after Christmas, those areas start filling up with fertilizer, mulch, garden soil, and bedding plants. People start planting in February or March to beat the heat.”

  Bree watched Linda butter her bread. “Do you have cows and make your own butter too?”

  “No, silly.” Linda wrinkled her nose. “But my grandmother did when she lived out on the farm. When the family moved closer to town in the 1930s, they didn’t bring anything except some chickens.” Linda chewed a bit of bread. Wiping away a few crumbs, she said, “All I remember are the small gardens, though people still plant enough to share with their neighbors.”

  Bree forked a tomato from her salad. When had she last eaten a tomato fresh from the vine? “Doesn’t a garden take a lot of work?”

  “Yes. You have to get the ground ready, plant, fertilize, kill insects, and water the plants. But it’s fun to watch them grow.”

  “It makes my back ache just to think about it.” Bree groaned and pretended to rub her own back.

  Linda mock-frowned at her. “You also have to pick whatever you’ve grown and either cook it, can it, or give it away—usually all three.”

  “And you do this why? Going to Kroger is enough work for me.”

  “Everything tastes better, it’s great exercise, and it makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something.” Linda turned serious. “But most of all, I enjoy being part of nature. Remember? That’s fundamental to the way of Wicca.”

  Bree lowered her fork as she chewed another bite of spaghetti. “I’m glad you brought up that subject. I understand gardening, but I never expected to find a coven in this part of the country. And for you to act like it’s no big deal amazes me.”