by Nat Burns
“How are you holding up? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”
Delora studied Sophie’s face but pulled her gaze away when Sophie’s interest deepened. “Your call was a surprise. How’d you get my cell number?”
“Ahhh, the ways of the bayou are mysterious,” Sophie said, laughing when Delora pulled a face of mock annoyance. “Sorry for the short notice. So what do you think of the family?”
“They’re amazing. Beautiful. Surely they’re not all family?”
Sophie’s sweeping glance took in the crowd as she viewed it from Delora’s vantage point. It was a motley crew, no doubt about it. Grandam’s sister, Yarrow, was there with her husband, Lemley Banks. They lived inwater on another piece of Wassel Cofe’s land. They lived even further into the old ways than did Grandam and Sophie. Visits to their house had always been like stepping into an ancient dimension when people were ruled by superstition and sorcery in equal measures.
A good number of the revelers were patients, however: men, women and children that they had led toward healing during the years. If taken to task, Sophie could have named every injury or illness. She couldn’t remember to tie her own shoes sometimes, but she could remember every patient she’d treated. She turned back to Delora. She didn’t want to think about other patients today.
“Some are other families from the Bayou Lisse. They live all up and down the waterways. Some, like Alvin and Doris Borrows, live over in town, Redstar, but most are from the water.”
“Your grandmother…” Delora began, but broke off, unsure how to broach the subject of Sophie’s ethnicity.
“What about her?” Sophie pulled Delora toward the food table.
Delora eyed the food-laden table. There was everything from a planked fish to a full roasted turkey, all the way to ice cream in a big bowl resting in an ice-filled barrel. It was a lot of food.
“Glory, who cooked all this?” she exclaimed.
Sophie laughed and sliced off a huge chunk of chocolate cake packed with pecan halves. “Everyone. Clary did some of it, but everyone brings something to these things. Didn’t your family ever do this?” She paused. “When they were still with us, I mean.” She watched Delora even as her hand lifted two plastic forks.
“No, not really. School functions. And church things with Rosalie. But never this much food.”
Sophie laughed at the other’s wide eyes. “Come on, Miss Innocent. You’ve got to try this cake. Myria Pulet makes it and I swear I could eat the whole thing by myself.”
“Come on here, Miss Sophie. Y’all can sit here,” Tassidy Myer said as he rose and offered his chair and the empty one next to him.
“Thank you, Tass. Your mama is smiling on you from heaven,” Sophie told him.
He grinned and ducked his head as he moved away.
Delora studied the man with his straight ebony hair worn long beneath a limp-brimmed Stetson and colorful shirt over metal-studded jeans. “Is he a relative?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have introduced you. Tassidy is Grandam’s baby brother. Let’s see that makes him my, what? Great-uncle? We always called him Uncle Tass.”
Delora glanced after him as they sat. “He looks nice.”
Sophie nodded her agreement as she dug into the cake. “Salt of the earth.”
Delora lifted the fork Sophie had passed to her and used it to pick at the cake. “About Miss Beulah. Are y’all Italian?”
Sophie turned wide, astonished eyes on Delora. “Italian?” She laughed and used her fork to push a small bite of the cake into Delora’s mouth. “We’re Egyptian, but don’t tell anyone. We don’t talk about it. Isn’t that good?”
Delora lifted her eyes to Sophie. The rich sweetness of the chocolate in her mouth and the sheer sugar of Sophie’s gaze made Delora tremble deep inside. The moment was too perfect and it terrified her. Sophie seemed to sense her fear and her face went tense.
“Delora, it’s all right, honey. I’m right here. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Delora was too embarrassed to admit her feelings or her fear. She realized she loved Sophie. What was she to do with these feelings? Surely Sophie wasn’t interested. But wait, another part of her whispered. What about the way she looks at me?
Delora shook the optimism away like shrugging out of a winter overcoat.
“It’s good cake. I think it’s the nuts. Lots of nuts add richness.”
“So, you cook?” Sophie tilted her head to one side as she regarded the other woman.
Delora laughed, determined to ease up and not allow Sophie’s nearness to twist her stomach into knots. “I’m not sure I know the meaning of the word. I do what I have to do to get by.”
Sophie laughed, broke off another small piece of cake, then handed the plate to Delora “Okay, chocolate limit reached. The rest is for you.”
Delora grunted and studied the plate with suspicion.
They fell silent and watched the milling, laughing crowd.
“You still live with him, don’t you?” Sophie asked quietly.
Delora snapped her gaze back to Sophie. How much did this woman know about her life?
“Does he still hurt you?”
Delora knew she should be incensed at this invasion of her privacy. She knew she should consider the question the height of rudeness and disregard it. Sophie was different and Delora could feel no indignation. She realized with the bright light of epiphany that Sophie would always be one step ahead of her. And that Sophie could see where others could not. She considered her answer carefully.
“No, he ignores me mostly and that’s good.”
“So, he won’t do it again?”
Delora thought about telling her about the lighter fluid she’d found under his bed. It was too exhausting to open that door. “No. I don’t think it matters to him anymore. He’s blind now.”
Sophie leaned forward and dangled her hands between her knees. Her voice was soft and carried to Delora on angel wings. No one nearby could have heard. Only Delora.
“Do you know how I am?”
Delora’s puzzlement lasted only a minute. Sophie was trying to make sure Delora knew why the feelings were growing between them. She had to be sure though.
“Do you mean about the healing stuff?”
Sophie tucked her head and smiled, her eyes on the crowd. “No. The other.”
“Yes. Yes, I know.”
“Is that okay?”
Sighing, Delora mulled this question over. Was it okay? Did she want to give Sophie permission? A host of thoughts tumbled through her mind. She envisioned some possibilities, negated others. A part of her knew she had nothing to lose if others knew she was involved with Sophie, but the scars…how could she be what Sophie wanted and needed? She had to discourage Sophie. As soon as her mind was made up, however, Sophie lifted her eyes and snared Delora with a look of love and desire so pure that Delora quit breathing for a full minute.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it’s okay, Sophie.”
Sophie continued to fall deeply into Delora’s eyes, the contact broken only when one of the children, pushed by another, fell into the water with a loud howl. Infectious laughter swept through the crowd, catching Sophie and Delora up in it.
“I’d better get him a towel and something dry to wear,” Sophie said as she rose. Her loving gaze lingered, however.
“Sure,” agreed Delora. “I’ll be here.” She felt as though she could use a few minutes alone with her thoughts. And time to deal with the unfamiliar warmth spreading through her body.
“I’ll be back soon and maybe we can take a walk, okay?”
Helpless, Delora nodded.
Chapter Thirty-One
Bayou Lisse at night was even more incredible than in the daylight. Most notable were the insects. Here there was no subterfuge. Insects ruled openly. Next were the frogs. It seemed every step taken by the two women dislodged another resting amphibian.
“Frogs everywhere,” Delora muttered, finally breaking the silence that had
enveloped them for some time.
Sophie reached and took Delora’s hand in her hot grasp. “Usually are, this time of year.”
Delora rubbed her thumb along Sophie’s knuckle. It felt good to connect with her.
Sophie paused next to a wide area of open water. Delora stood next to her and they watched the slow undulation of water.
“Can you see the lights?” Sophie asked quietly. “Watch the water. Deep.”
Delora looked at Sophie’s rapt face, then followed her gaze toward the water. And there it was—a chain of lights moving through the depths.
“What is it?” Delora whispered.
Sophie shrugged and pulled Delora’s hand closer, tucking it under her arm. The fullness of Sophie’s breast pressed against the back of Delora’s hand. “I’m not sure. I call them fairy lights.”
Delora nodded. Fairy lights. Yes.
“Life sure is an adventure, isn’t it?” Delora mused quietly. Mosquitoes danced about them angrily, yet stayed away. Bayou water tapped gently just down at the end of the grassy patch where the two women stood. “Just when you think things are duller than dirt something happens to shake your world.”
“Seems that way,” Sophie agreed.
Delora watched her in silence.
Sophie tensed suddenly, looking at Delora. A message passed.
“So what has happened to shake up your world?” she asked.
Delora smiled. Gone was the resigned bitter woman she’d been. Sophie wasn’t sure she knew who this new woman was, but she was sure glad she was having the opportunity to get to know her.
“Lots of things,” Delora replied. “Seeing you with all your people, for one. I never knew how special it is—this healing you do.”
Sophie smiled, her mouth gathering dusk and holding it. “It’s addictive—like that sweet German wine they sell over in Goshen. Once you’ve tasted it, you’ve got to have it again and again. Even though the cost is outrageous.”
Silence again for a short time. “And what else has shaken up your world?”
Delora grinned again, and Sophie saw the coy, flirtatious girl Delora had once been. Her heart flipped in her chest.
“Lord, Lora. I’ve got to tell you, I…”
Sophie couldn’t finish. Delora’s laughing gaze was pulling her in like water over a deadfall. She tilted her head and allowed herself to be pulled in. There was a small moment of doubt in Delora’s eyes as Sophie leaned and pressed her lips to hers. The kiss was charming and chaste. Even as their lips moved apart Sophie stayed close, inhaling the essence of Delora. She’d read once that touching faces was the greatest intimacy two people could share. She wanted this with Delora. Surprising her, Delora allowed it, even seemed to encourage the closeness.
“You’re healing me, you know,” Delora whispered finally. Her sweet breath, still bearing the essence of chocolate, tickled against Sophie’s cheeks.
“And you, me,” Sophie answered. “I didn’t even know I was broken until you came into my life. Now, without you with me, I am.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“What’s your schedule today?”
The words next to her ear and the friendly smell of coffee wafted across Delora, waking her. Where was she?
Eyes opening slowly, they fetched up on Sophie’s smiling face. Alarm fired along Delora’s nerves. She sat up abruptly as the previous night replayed in her memory.
“Oh, my gosh, Sophie. I’m so sorry. What was I thinking, imposing like this?”
She tried to kick off misbehaving blankets, and Sophie laughed at her dilemma.
“Hold on,” she said, cautiously placing a mug of coffee on the bureau. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Delora relaxed against the pillows. “I slept here all night, didn’t I? Here with you.”
Calmly, slowly, Sophie folded back the blankets. “Yes. Yes, you did. That’s why I asked about your schedule. Where do you have to be today?”
“What day is it?”
Sophie smiled and handed the coffee over. Delora took it and sipped gratefully.
“Monday.”
“Blossom’s, all day until six. Then French Club after.”
“I swear, I don’t know how you keep it all straight,” Sophie muttered with a shake of her head. Delora watched her, enjoying the haphazard twisting of Sophie’s tawny curls, unbound this early in the day. She reached across and captured an escaping curl with an index finger. The curl grasped her back as if it were a sentient being. Sophie’s eyes grew soft and dreamy as they regarded Delora.
Sudden laughter penetrated from another room, and Delora started, dropping the curl and grasping the mug with both white-knuckled hands.
“Who’s out there?” she whispered. “I’m so mortified.”
“Just Grandam and Clary, that’s all.” Sophie glanced toward the door and sighed.
“Oh no, what must they think of me staying here this way? I’m so embarrassed.”
Sophie took the cup from Delora and helped herself to a healthy swallow before setting it to one side. “Don’t even waste energy on that. They don’t care. I’ll get a little ribbing from them about getting laid but that’s only words.”
Delora looked curiously into Sophie’s chocolate eyes. She still felt the weight and warmth of Sophie’s body all over her. “We…I mean…”
Sophie regarded Delora, eyes beginning to twinkle in a familiar way. “Nope. You’d remember that and I would too. We’ve got it powerful, don’t we?”
Delora tried to act innocent. “What do you mean?”
Sophie leaned in and captured Delora’s lips with her own. The scent and taste of coffee on Sophie transported Delora to a sweet place. It plain didn’t matter that Beulah and Clary were only a wall away. It didn’t matter that Delora was married or that she was damaged goods, scarred by her husband’s brutal whim.
Delora’s tongue escaped her mouth and sought Sophie’s. Sophie’s lips lay warm along hers, and Delora could feel the shift in her breathing as the kiss deepened, the two tongues frolicking slowly as they explored new terrain. A bright heat descended along Delora’s body and her hands trembled as they tingled. She brought those shaking hands up to push Sophie away, but instead they moved along Sophie’s neck and breast and pulled their bodies even closer.
Abruptly Sophie broke the connection. Both women were shaken, barely daring to breathe, and Delora felt that strange dropping sensation in her chest.
“Duvvel beng atchava,” Sophie whispered.
“What is that?” Delora breathed out, the language piquing her interest.
“It’s a good thing we’re not alone. No, wait, it’s a good thing I remembered we’re not alone.”
She lifted Delora’s hand and pressed it to the heated skin of her neck. “Krisi kommoben krisi chooma chor nongo ozi.”
“That sounds so beautiful. What does it mean?”
Sophie gazed into Delora’s eyes and Delora knew. She smiled shyly, yet was determined. “What is that you’re speaking, Sophie?”
“Romany. The language of the Manu. I picked it up from Grandam and her sisters.”
“It says more, doesn’t it?”
“Much more.” She leaned in and briefly recaptured their kiss. She handed the coffee back to Delora and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get you ready for work.”
Delora allowed the other woman to guide her out of the bedroom and into a short hallway. The voices of Beulah and Clary could be heard more clearly there; they were arguing about the price of canned asparagus.
Once they were in the bathroom Sophie unbuttoned Delora’s red shirt. Delora watched her as one entranced, as if watching an approaching tornado, knowing there is no place to hide. Four buttons down, Sophie paused and rubbed the back of her fingers against the rounded swell of Delora’s small breasts. The electric current generated brought Delora back to awareness.
“Sophie,” she muttered in a warning tone.
Sophie grinned endearingly. “But it feels so good,” she whispe
red.
Delora allowed her head to fall back. “I know,” she countered. “But we’re not alone.”
Sophie pressed her solid hips against Delora’s and moved their bodies together in a slow sinuous coupling as she sighed next to Delora’s ear, “Rain check?”
Delora blushed and nodded quickly. Delora refused to remember the scars.
Sophie backed away and pulled the door closed. “Hand out your clothes and we’ll press an iron over them. If they can’t be clean, at least they’ll be presentable.”
Delora finished unbuttoning the shirt with shaking fingers. She hung it on the outer doorknob and it was whisked from her fingers.
“Sophie?” she whispered.
“Yes?” Sophie answered just outside the door.
Delora pressed her palm to the door where she imagined Sophie’s face would be. “I just wanted to make sure you’re real.”
Sophie laughed low in her throat. “Hurry up, slowpoke. It’s seven already.”
Delora gasped and slid from her jeans, passing them out to Sophie.
Standing in the small bathroom wearing nothing but panties, Delora felt lost but oddly secure. The feeling was as if she’d found home again, that prehurricane world that fit her so well.
Touching a sheaf of cattail gathered together with wild honeysuckle as a binding, she knew Sophie had crafted it. Curious, she took a few minutes to look over the simple toiletries scattered about the bathroom. She touched the shampoos and conditioners, mostly store-brand products. A few looked homemade, and she lifted one vial and recognized it as the scent she most associated with Sophie.
A short time later, she emerged from the shower and found her shirt and jeans, still warm from the iron, hanging on a hook inside the door. Also included was a new toothbrush and a pair of panties and a camisole still packaged in the manufacturer’s shrink-wrap. To her amazement they were her size. After she dressed, she wasn’t sure what to do with the panties she’d worn the day before and eventually stuffed them in her jeans pocket. The hallway was deserted. Wandering to the left, she emerged into the bright kitchen. The door to outside was open and the air sweetened by garden herbs. Clary stood at one of the windows staring out. She lifted a mug of coffee to her lips but paused when she spied Delora.
