Seneca Falls

by Jesse J. Thoma

  While Dylan waited for Seneca’s breathing to return to normal, Seneca avoided looking Dylan in the eye. Her face was red and she looked volatile. Dylan was worried she had crossed a line. Britt looked like she was worried about that too.

  “She won’t take them off,” Britt said. “In case she needs to make a break for it, I guess.” Britt sounded annoyed, but Dylan guessed it was concern more than anger.

  “Bob, why did you come here?” Seneca asked cautiously, surprising Dylan when her words lacked the anger she expected.

  Dylan, still crouching a few feet from Seneca, took a few tentative frog steps forward. “I wanted to see you. You left me that weird note and now that I’m here…what’s wrong? What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing, I’m fine. Please leave.” Seneca’s words were stronger now.

  Dylan didn’t want to leave, but she hadn’t been invited over, and if that’s what Seneca wanted, she couldn’t insist she stay. “Sure, as soon as you tell me about this.” Dylan held up the note Britt had given her.

  “What is there to tell?” Seneca sounded tired and a little angry.

  “You had a nice time at dinner and that’s it, never going to happen again? Am I reading this right?”

  “That about covers it,” Seneca said, pulling herself backward across the floor, back toward her bed.

  “Well, I don’t accept your brush-off. I had a great time. You admitted you did as well. Therefore, I see no reason not to do it again.” Dylan held her ground, knowing it could blow up on her at any minute. She could see the struggle for control, both physical and emotional, playing out across Seneca’s face.

  “Oh,” Seneca said, looking confused. “So if I say no more, but you say yes, your vote wins? I don’t understand how this works. Don’t I get a vote here?” Seneca pulled herself onto the bed, careful not to put any weight on her leg. “Now all of a sudden what I want doesn’t matter? I expected more from you, Bob.”

  Dylan had expected resistance, but the words still stung. She wondered if Seneca knew what an expressive face she had. If someone bothered to pay even a bit of attention, everything was laid out there for the world to see. Right now, Seneca’s face was contorted, not with anger, but with fear. Dylan didn’t think now was the time to ask what she was so scared of.

  “Have you eaten anything today?” Dylan asked.

  “I just said I don’t want to see you for meals, Bob,” Seneca said, finally sounding angry.

  “Given your bad case of the grumpy-uglies, I’m just going to answer my own question in the negative. I’m going to bring you some food. With all you’re dealing with right now, you should at least eat something.”

  “Amen to that,” Britt said from her desk. Seneca glared at them both.

  “Why would you be nice to me and bring me food?” Seneca asked, confusion back on her expression and in her voice.

  “Call me an idiot, but I’m choosing to believe that your personality is a little more along the lines of the you I have class and coffee with and not the ass that is sitting on your bed. I like the Seneca I met in class and would like to continue to be friends with that version of you. When you chase away the grumpies, maybe that’s something you’d like too. Let me know.”

  Chapter Eight

  Seneca saw Kate look her way with annoyance as she released the third long, heavy sigh. She was back at work after her leg calmed down enough for her to walk. It was the end of her shift, and Kate was about to turn over the golf cart for Seneca to put away. She knew she had been agitated and distant the whole afternoon, and it was possible she had lost count of the sighs. They kept sneaking out.

  It didn’t help that her lunch had consisted of what was left of the food Dylan had brought over. Dylan had left the food outside their door and slipped a note under the door with instructions for Britt to make sure Seneca ate. She’d also left a postcard with a picture of a koala toy, and despite the pain, that cute little creature had made Seneca smile. It wasn’t fair how she had treated Dylan, especially since she was only trying to bring her some relief.

  “Something on your mind?” Kate asked.

  Seneca struggled to find an answer to Kate’s question. She knew she had been distracted all shift and she felt bad about that. She felt like Kate would probably have some good advice for her, and the slight exasperation in Kate’s voice made her think perhaps she should explain her behavior. In truth, she had been beating herself up about the way things had gone with Dylan, and perhaps Kate could help.

  “I think I might have screwed up royally,” she said, looking for any sign of recrimination in Kate’s face. She didn’t find any. “I was an asshole to someone, and I think I ruined any chance I had for…anything.”

  Seneca couldn’t articulate just what she had ruined a chance at. Certainly she didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t do relationships. Friendships were enough of a struggle. But did she really only want Dylan as a friend? Until Dylan came barging in all heroic and idealistic, Seneca hadn’t been able to even consider getting up on her own. But somehow Dylan inspired her to stand up and take a few wobbly steps. She couldn’t stop picturing the moment Dylan walked into the room and how beautiful she looked. Britt had told her she was outside, and every fiber of her being screamed for Dylan to stay away, but the moment she walked through the door, she felt nothing―no pain, no anger, no fear. She just saw her.

  “Everyone is an asshole sometimes. Have you tried apologizing?”

  “I’m not sure I can,” Seneca said sheepishly. “I wasn’t very nice…” The next thought caught her off guard. “I think at the time I might have meant what I said and felt. Sometimes the pain messes me up in all kinds of ways.”

  “But now things are different?” Kate asked, giving away none of her thoughts, much to Seneca’s frustration.

  “I don’t know,” Seneca said. “I don’t think I can tell her I’m sorry until I figure that out. If I say I’m sorry and I still mean what I said, then I’ll have to do it all over again. And if I don’t mean it any more then…” Holy shit.

  “Sometimes it’s good to apologize for the way we say things, even if we meant what we said,” Kate said noncommittally. “Do you mind putting the cart away? I’ll meet you back in the field house.”

  Seneca was happy for the time to gather her thoughts. It felt good to talk to Kate. She had never had an adult who gave a damn about her feelings. She laughed when she realized she was technically an adult now too, but Kate still seemed like a much wiser, worldlier woman, and Seneca was afraid she would always feel like a scared little girl.

  When she got back to the field house, Kate had already straightened up and turned out the lights. She was pulling the door shut when Seneca came around the corner.

  “You doing anything for dinner?” Kate asked.

  Seneca hesitated, wondering if this was Kate feeling sorry for her.

  “I’m hungry, kiddo, and I have someone who has been asking to meet you. Thought tonight might be a good night. If you don’t have plans, of course.” Kate seemed able to read Seneca’s mind.

  “Nope, no plans. Do I need to bring anything?”

  “Just you. My car’s over this way, and I’ll give you a ride back after dinner.”

  “It’s no trouble. I can walk back,” Seneca said quickly.

  Kate looked at her with an assessing expression. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s ten miles. I don’t walk it, and I’m certainly not going to let you walk it. I’ll give you a ride back, okay?”

  Seneca nodded. Kate had just told her that her leg condition was a factor in some of her decisions, but somehow that didn’t seem as threatening as it once might have. She wasn’t sure how, but in a few weeks, her life had started to look completely foreign. For years, she had spent every moment protecting herself physically and emotionally, but suddenly she was breaking all sorts of her rules. When did that start? Bob. It all started with a dance with Bob. Seneca groaned.

  “You okay? I won’t be cooking if that’
s what you’re worried about.”

  Seneca smiled at the self-deprecating joke; it was very hard not to like Kate. “No, I wasn’t worried about your cooking. I think I just realized I need to make that apology.”

  *

  Kate’s wife was a wonderful cook. Seneca couldn’t remember a meal she had enjoyed so much, not even the first one after she’d woken up in the hospital and was finally free to eat anything she wanted. Although it was nice to be amidst such domestic bliss, it left her unsettled. She didn’t think that was something she desired or hoped for, but watching the way Kate worshipped her wife, falling all over herself praising the meal and even doing the dishes after, Seneca felt her acute isolation.

  Loneliness wasn’t a stranger, but this emotion felt different. She had been lonely most of her life, never fitting in anywhere, merely taking up space. It didn’t much matter to the people around her if she was there or not, and only a few people had ever noticed if she slipped away. Until Shannon, Seneca hadn’t realized what it meant to be part of a household, but that had quickly evaporated as Shannon took things to the other extreme.

  Watching Kate and her wife, Lisa, Seneca saw what a relationship was supposed to look like, one filled with love, respect, and equality. It was a completely new concept. She had never been around two people quite like them. Much to her annoyance, as she watched Lisa wipe a smudge off Kate’s cheek, Seneca’s mind jumped to Dylan. The image of her filled her thoughts, the way she had looked the first time Seneca saw her, then again in class, and finally how hurt she had looked standing in Seneca’s room, offering her friendship, only to be rudely turned away.

  Another loud sigh escaped, and she itched to run from the picture of domestic bliss before her. It was too real and too painful. Seeing what was possible created a heartbreaking ache at the loss of what Seneca didn’t think she could ever have. Although she hadn’t been to the bar, on the prowl as Britt called it, since the night she had danced with Dylan, tonight she needed something to take the edge off. The arms of a beautiful woman, and the well-defined game played by her rules, had always blunted the edge of dark emotion that filled her.

  Even as she thought of the night’s potential, however, the idea held less appeal than it should have. What she was feeling now wasn’t strictly loneliness and wasn’t something an anonymous other could drive away. In truth, she had no idea what she was feeling, and that was more terrifying than anything. Not knowing meant she couldn’t find a coping strategy. No strategy meant no control. The whole thing was just fucking unacceptable.

  Seneca pulled herself from her thoughts to see Kate and Lisa watching her intently. She wondered how long she had been lost in thought. Kate looked contemplative. Lisa looked worried.

  Kate moved next to Seneca and slowly, carefully, and with plenty of warning, put her arm around Seneca’s shoulder. “Don’t go to the bar tonight, kiddo. There’s no answer for you there.”

  Seneca’s head snapped up in surprise. She had no idea how Kate knew what she was thinking. She also knew Kate was right. She nodded slightly, sagging into the couch. She didn’t want to spend the night alone, and although she lived with Britt, she had shut her out of her pain for so long she couldn’t imagine letting her share any of it now. Britt had been a good roommate and a friend, but Seneca didn’t want to scare her away with the reality of just how screwed up she really was.

  “I’m not sure I want to be alone tonight,” Seneca said, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt weak and vulnerable and had already imposed enough on Kate and her wife’s hospitality. She wasn’t even sure why she was confessing at all. There was just something about Kate that offered calm in Seneca’s constant storm.

  “Then don’t be. Stay here,” Kate said, glancing at Lisa for confirmation. Lisa nodded her consent, her face showing both concern and compassion.

  “I can’t…I mean I…thank you, but…” Seneca didn’t know what to say. She wanted to refuse almost as much as she wanted to accept.

  “Tell you what,” Kate said, standing and rubbing her hands together happily. “Why don’t we head upstairs and watch the ballgame, and you can think about it and decide later. Lisa’s also a master baker and you haven’t had dessert yet.”

  Kate raised her eyebrow in question at Seneca who nodded, trying to conceal her happiness. Somewhere along the line, Kate had figured her out with surprising ease. She had said she would show her the way through life, but Seneca hadn’t expected her to make it look so damned easy. Panic settled in her chest when she realized Kate and Lisa didn’t actually know much about her. They knew nothing about the nightmares, or what had caused them, and she didn’t think they would enjoy waking up to a twenty-something screaming on their couch.

  “I don’t think you want me here overnight. I, um, don’t always sleep really well. I have…dreams, sometimes.” Seneca didn’t want to look like a complete psycho. They had been so nice to her, and she didn’t want to ruin it. Her weakness should have bothered her more, but she was too tired physically and emotionally to worry about it.

  “Like I said, let’s worry about that later,” Kate said and motioned for Seneca to follow her up the stairs. “I’ve got a huge TV up here. It’s like you’re at the game. Sometimes Lisa catches me wearing my glove like I’m going to catch a foul ball.”

  Lisa placed her hand on Seneca’s shoulder, and she flinched and immediately felt bad about it when Lisa pulled her hand away quickly. Seneca forced control of her breathing. She reached out and squeezed Lisa’s hand. She didn’t want her to think she had done anything wrong. She took the tray of brownies from the counter. “Do you have an extra glove?”

  “She is completely insane about the Red Sox,” Lisa said, looking fondly up at Kate, who was eyeing the brownies. “She made us plan our wedding around the playoffs in 2004. I told her it was a good thing they won that year because if it was just another year of the ‘curse,’ I was cursing her and moving out.”

  Seneca gawked at Lisa, not sure if she was joking. She couldn’t believe they would throw away what they had over a baseball game.

  “And so I wrote a letter to the Sox asking them to please win, otherwise my fiancé was calling off the wedding,” Kate said with a grin.

  Seneca finally started to catch on that they weren’t serious. “You didn’t actually write to them did you?”

  “Absolutely I did. I wasn’t about to lose the love of my life because of another Buckner moment. I had to be sure everyone was on their game.”

  Lisa was laughing now, and Seneca was staring at them in complete amazement. “They wrote back and said they were trying their level best and good luck with the wedding,” Lisa said, smiling at Kate and giving Seneca a gentle prod up the stairs. “She framed the damn thing too. It’s upstairs. You two enjoy the game. I’ll be up to join you in a little while. I’m taking Hank for a walk.”

  Seneca looked at the eager chocolate Lab and figured he must know it was time to go out. His tail was threatening to punch a hole in the cabinets. As she limped up the stairs after Kate, her mind wandered back to Dylan. She found herself wishing Dylan was there to share in the somewhat surreal feeling dinner party, and she didn’t know why. She felt guilty once again about the way she had treated Dylan the last time they spoke and had an overwhelming urge to make it right.

  “May I use your phone?” Seneca asked impulsively. “I don’t have a cell phone. No one has ever had a reason to call me, and it was just too expensive.”

  Kate darted into one of the spare rooms on the second floor and grabbed the receiver. She flipped on the lights, revealing a nicely furnished office.

  “Take as long as you need. I’ll be at the end of the hall in the bonus room. Can’t miss it, huge TV, cheering, or cursing, depending on how the game is going.”

  Seneca called Britt first. She assured her she was fine and asked for Dylan’s campus phone number. Sophia was still old-fashioned enough to have room landlines. It took Britt a moment to find it online, and while she was busy, Seneca w
ondered if she was making a huge mistake.

  Britt read off the number and then added, “I think you’re doing the right thing. Dylan seems like a great lady.”

  Seneca wondered when everyone in her life had developed the ability to read her mind, but said nothing as she grunted her thanks and hung up. Her stomach knotted into a nervous ball as she started to dial Dylan’s number. She had no idea what she was going to say. Dylan answered on the second ring, and the sound of her voice caused Seneca to lose hers.

  “Hello? Anyone there?”

  “Bob, hi, it’s Seneca,” she stuttered, knowing she sounded like a fool.

  “Oh, hi.” Dylan’s reply was surprised and decidedly cool.

  “I…I wanted to say I was sorry, you know, for the way I treated you the other night. I was—”

  “An asshole?”

  “Yes, that’s a good way to put it. So I’m sorry for that.” Seneca tried desperately to think of something to make Dylan laugh.

  “I was about to head downtown for a movie, if you’re interested,” Dylan said. It felt like a test.

  “Uh, I can’t tonight. I’m at Kate’s house.”

  “Oh.”

  Dylan sounded pissed and hurt. Seneca guessed she failed. “Kate’s my boss from the training room. She asked me to dinner to meet her wife,” Seneca said. “Maybe we could do something later this week?” She resisted the urge to hang up in a panic.

  “Oh.” This time Dylan’s voice was much lighter, but still cautious. “Sure, that sounds good. I’ll see you in class. Let me know if you ever want more than that. Have a good night. Thanks for calling.”

  Dylan hung up before Seneca could respond. She stared at the phone, completely baffled by what had just happened. Maybe some of her uneasiness had come through? Somehow she didn’t think Dylan had gotten the “I’m really sorry I was a jerk. Let’s start over” message. She seemed more upset after the apology than before.