A Love that Leads to Home

by Ronica Black

  Janice’s gaze shifted slightly, but not toward Carla. She hugged herself as if she were cold.

  “I better get the candles,” she said, finally tearing her gaze away from the storm. She crossed to the kitchen and Carla followed, unprepared for her sudden movement and disregard to her apology.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  Janice halted just as quickly as she’d moved and turned and crashed into Carla. They both jumped a little and offered hurried apologies that sounded high strung with nerves.

  “I just—need to get into that drawer,” Janice stammered, as they both kept moving in the same direction, unintentionally mirroring each other, trying to get by.

  Carla relented and held up her hands in defeat. “How about I just stand still? Would that help?” She smiled and Janice seemed to relax some.

  “I think so.” She walked around Carla and slid open a deep drawer close to the sink. She pulled out several wide candles and closed the drawer with her hip. When she tried to carry them, however, some fell. “Shit.”

  “Here, let me,” Carla said, hurrying to her. They knelt at the same time, reaching for the same candle, and bumped heads and hands.

  “Ow, shit,” Janice said, grabbing her head.

  Carla winced and rubbed at her own. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She looked at Carla. “Are you?”

  “I’ll live.”

  They reached for the same candle again and hands collided. They both inhaled, reacting to the contact. Their eyes met once again, and Janice brushed her fingers along the back of Carla’s hand. Lightly, deftly. Almost as if it were imagined. Carla glanced down and lifted a single finger, wanting mutual contact. And just as her finger touched hers, Janice pulled away.

  She gathered the candles, scooping them up against her chest. She hurried back into the living room and Carla watched from the kitchen doorway as she deposited them on the coffee table. Her movements were quick and deliberate. She was obviously flustered.

  “It sometimes takes them forever to get the power back on, so I get the candles going right away, just in case.” She stood looking down at the candles with her hands on her hips. It seemed to take her a while to realize something was missing, her mind probably still back in the bedroom, replaying the scene between them.

  “Where do you keep your lighter?” Carla asked.

  She looked up. “Right. We definitely need that don’t we?” She ran her hand through her hair like she was still battling her nerves. “It’s in the kitchen. I’ll get it.”

  “No, let me. I’m right here. Where is it?”

  She looked uncomfortable, like she didn’t want to tell her.

  “It’s in the big drawer by the sink.”

  “The same drawer as the candles?”

  She looked away. “Uh-huh.”

  She’d overlooked the lighter that been right there in front of her. And it seemed she didn’t want Carla to know.

  Maybe her mind really was back in the bedroom.

  Could she not tell that Carla’s was too?

  “Got it,” Carla said, turning to retrieve the stick lighter. She carried it into the living room and handed it to Janice, who took it quietly and lit two candles. Carla picked up the rest before she could fend her off.

  “Where to?” She was trying to sound lighthearted to help ease the tension, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on Janice.

  “Uh, the kitchen.” Her embarrassment showed with the flush of her cheeks as she confessed another visit to the kitchen was needed.

  “Okay.” Carla set a candle on the counter and Janice followed. They lit one candle there and then walked down the hall to place one in the bathroom and one in each of their rooms. When they stood at the dresser in Janice’s room there was a noticeable silence, the aura of their encounter still palpable.

  Carla felt it. It was almost like it was alive and had a heartbeat. And the bed behind her fed that pulse. It was calling out, beckoning with its heavenly linens, making Carla want to feel them all over again, a temptation much like she had every time she held an open rose. She could never resist touching the impossible softness of the alluring display of petals. She wanted to take Janice in her arms and lay her down on that open rose of a bed and make love to her amidst those soft petals, knowing that they were kissing and stroking Janice’s nude body in unison with her.

  “What? What is it?” Janice asked, glancing over at her. She sounded apprehensive and must’ve felt Carla’s eyes on her. She clicked the lighter repeatedly with no success.

  You.

  You are everything.

  “Nothing.” Carla placed her hand over hers, stilling her. She felt Janice react, even though it was subtle. She gently took the lighter from her and slid the small lever to the other fuel chamber. She pulled the ignition trigger and lit the awaiting wick.

  “Lord, I am so absentminded today.” Janice attempted a laugh, but her apparent nervousness stifled it, especially when Carla didn’t laugh with her. The candlelight was teasing, illuminating and shadowing Janice’s face, mesmerizing Carla with the ever-changing contours and angles. Laughter was the furthest thing from her mind.

  Carla wasn’t sure what she wanted more. To take her in her arms to the bed, or to continue to stare at her, lost forever in the undertow of her beauty. Janice pulled her from her inner dilemma by taking the lighter back. She was once again watching Carla curiously.

  “I’m a renowned expert on lighter usage,” Carla said, hoping to explain her own obvious staring. “I get a lot of practice back home during monsoon season.”

  “Monsoon season?”

  “You haven’t read about it in all those magazines?”

  She reddened further and looked away.

  Why do those magazines make her so uncomfortable?

  Carla smiled softly, confused by her discomfort but wanting more than anything to lesson it.

  “Let’s go relax and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  Carla led the way to the couches in the living room. She sat at the end of the love seat closest to Janice who sat at the end of the sofa. It reminded Carla of their first night together and how welcome and relaxed she’d felt. And then she recalled the night she’d sat directly next to her and how Janice had held her, comforting her, until they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

  Her longing to feel her again almost took precedence, but she couldn’t go there at the present, even if just in her mind.

  “We get storms in the summer,” she said. “Monsoons.”

  “In Phoenix? In the desert?” She met her eyes briefly, showing an attempt to move beyond her current state of unease.

  “Uh-huh. Every summer.”

  “And I’m guessing, since they’re called monsoons, they aren’t like this storm.”

  “They’re usually more powerful than your average thunderstorm. A lot of strong winds and blowing dust along with the heavy rain. Haven’t you ever seen those giant walls of dust on the news?”

  “Yes,” she said, sounding more alive. “That’s what ya’ll get?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “They look so impossible, like they can’t be real.”

  “They’re real all right. Pretty cool to look at too. But you do not want to get caught in one. Especially if you’re driving.”

  “I would think not. Has that ever happened to you?”

  “I’ve been caught in a couple of dust storms, but thankfully nothing that endangered my driving.”

  “Are they ever dangerous? These storms?”

  “They can be. The strong winds can cause damage and the heavy downpours cause flash flooding.”

  “And power outages,” she said. “Hence your expertise on lighter usage.”

  Carla saw a hint of a grin.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve had to light a lot of candles in my day.”

  “You don’t sound like you enjoy that.”

  “I don’t, no. Why would I? Losing power in Phoenix in the middle of July is awfu
l. It’s way too hot to be without air conditioning. And for days at a time? Nightmare.”

  “I didn’t even think about the heat. What do you do?”

  “Me? I leave. I get the hell out. If I hear it’s going to take more than a day to fix the power, I drive a couple of hours north and stay up there until things are taken care of. But that’s worse-case scenario. The power is usually up and running again within a few hours. That’s been my experience anyway.”

  “Sound like something you might want to see?”

  “Me?” Her eyes were wide. “I don’t know. I haven’t really tho—”

  Carla waited for her to finish. She didn’t.

  “Did I scare you?”

  She looked at her with alarm. “Scare me? No, of course not. Why would I be scared to come to Arizona?”

  “I don’t know,” Carla said softly. “I was referring to my description of the storms.”

  “Oh. No. Storms don’t frighten me. I kind of like them.” She ran her hand through her hair and then propped her elbow on the armrest and leaned her cheek into her palm.

  Is she trying to appear unaffected? If so, for whom? Her or me?

  “You should come. I think you would really like Arizona.”

  Janice was quiet.

  “Janice?”

  “Mm, yes, maybe I would like it.”

  “Have you thought about coming?”

  Thunder rolled above them and the rainfall increased, assaulting the roof with machine-gun sounding clatter.

  “I don’t know. Not a whole lot I guess.”

  “Really? I thought with all your reading about it, you would want to see it for yourself.”

  She drew her feet up to rest at her side.

  “You said it was beautiful, right?” Carla knew she was pressing her. But she felt driven to discover why she was so reluctant in discussing her obvious interest. “Don’t you want to see it in person?”

  She smoothed her pants. More so than was necessary.

  “Janice?”

  She whipped her head up. “I said I don’t know, okay? I haven’t given it a lot thought.”

  Carla blinked, surprised at her reaction but still confused by her answer.

  “Why not?”

  Janice looked right into her and spoke quickly. “Because it wasn’t possible. Because it wasn’t reality. It was a dream.” She closed her mouth and turned away as if she’d said too much.

  Wasn’t possible? Wasn’t reality? How long has she been thinking about this?

  “A dream,” Carla said. “There’s nothing wrong with having dreams.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “You know, if you want to come, you can. You’d have a place to stay. I’d love to have you.”

  She remained silent.

  “That makes the dream a little more possible, doesn’t it? Dreams sometimes can come true.”

  She breathed deeply and Carla thought she saw her shudder.

  “Janice.”

  Carla leaned forward, trying to catch her gaze.

  “Yes, Carla,” she said.

  “I feel like I’ve upset you again and I don’t understand why. And I want to understand.”

  “There’s nothing to understand.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I don’t even understand,” she said. “So, how could you?”

  “Try me. It’s worth a shot, right?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t think in this case it is.”

  “What do you have going on in that beautiful mind of yours, Janice? What could possibly be so upsetting? And what could it possibly have to do with Arizona?”

  Lightning flashed, intruding upon the candlelight. Thunder cracked a second later, and when Janice looked at her again, she had a storm of her own brewing in her eyes.

  For a moment, Carla was struck breathless, speechless. She searched that storm thoroughly for answers to her questions but found nothing she could hold on to. Every time she was sure she had something, and she reached for it, it slipped from her hands. There was one thing that kept bobbing to the surface, however, always just out of reach but very clear in sight.

  “Is it me, Janice?”

  She blinked. Once. Then a few times rapidly. Her lips parted. Carla could sense that she wanted to move but she didn’t. She kept very still and even held her gaze. Then she pressed her lips firmly together as if remaining so stoic was of great difficulty to her.

  “I don’t have a problem with you being gay, Carla. I’ve told you that several times now.”

  “I wasn’t referring to my sexuality. And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I did.”

  “I asked if I was the reason why you’re upset. You saying you have no issue with my sexuality, doesn’t really answer the question. So, I’ll ask you again. Am I the reason you’re upset?”

  “No.”

  She was firm, both in tone and in posture.

  Carla sighed and rubbed her forehead.

  “I’m not sure I believe you.”

  “I don’t know how to convince you.”

  “You could tell me why you’re so upset and why you close off when I bring up the magazines or anything having to do with Arizona.”

  She finally shifted, bringing her feet back to the floor. She had her palms on her thighs and looked as though she were about to stand. Carla feared she was about to run.

  “Just, please. I—Are you really okay with my being here? Because if something has changed and you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t here, then I would understand.” She wasn’t getting anywhere with her other attempts. Janice wasn’t letting her in. So, at the very least, she needed to be sure her presence was something Janice wanted.

  “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

  “I don’t,” she said, but her voice didn’t have the strength it had before. “And I don’t want you to leave.”

  The rain stopped and the rumbling thunder sounded like it was moving on.

  “I would ask you if you’re sure, but judging by the look on your face right now, I’m thinking that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “I prefer you taking me at my word. The first time.”

  Carla nodded. “Yeah, I’m finally getting that.”

  “I will say this though. If you ever need to talk, about anything, you can talk to me. I mean that most sincerely.”

  “Okay.”

  “I care about you. A great deal. More than you probably realize.” Carla was now the one who could no longer hold eye contact. She was confessing more than her words were construing and there was a part of her that didn’t want Janice to see that.

  She swallowed and turned to Janice with a newfound smile, intent on releasing them both from the tension.

  Janice, however, seemed to be ahead of her. She quickly stood, a smile of her own beaming down at Carla.

  “How about a walk? Storm seems to have passed. Might be nice to get some fresh air. Albeit muggy, humid air.”

  She’s not going to tell me.

  She’s going to keep putting on a front.

  Whatever it is she’s hiding, she’s just not ready to share it.

  Carla was crestfallen, but she kept her smile. She had to continue to think of Janice and her position as her friend.

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll get our shoes.” Janice hurried down the hallway.

  Carla rubbed her forehead again and sighed, wondering if she should ever try again.

  Wondering if Janice would ever be ready to open up.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The morning was bright and vibrant with color. Janice stood at the kitchen sink washing last night’s dishes, thinking about how she would’ve never put off cleaning up after dinner when alone. But she and Carla had been deep in conversation and Janice had been so enraptured, she’d easily agreed to leave the dishes for another time, choosing instead to join Carla on the front porch with a bottle of homemade muscadine wine she’d brought home from
a family friend. They’d sat in the gliding chair for hours, talking, drinking, and staring off into the darkness until the tiny glowing bulbs of the lightning bugs dissipated.

  Janice couldn’t ever remember feeling so warm and content, and she was sure that had way more to do with Carla than the wine.

  She stared out the window at a cardinal hopping from limb to limb, basking in the pale yellow of the early morning light. His red plume was stark against the green leaves, keeping her attention. She was riveted by the colors, amused by his movements. He couldn’t seem to remain still and yet he didn’t seem sure as to where to go next. He just kept hopping from limb to limb.

  His unsettlement struck her.

  Somehow, to this cardinal, she could relate.

  For she too, felt like she was hopping aimlessly from limb to limb. The more time she spent with Carla, the more demanding her attraction became. She was incredibly intelligent, which Janice had known, but visiting with her one-on-one for an extended amount of time had opened her eyes even more. Carla was well educated and well-read and she still had that insatiable thirst for knowledge she’d had as a kid.

  Their conversations, some deep and intellectual, some funny and lighthearted, left her stimulated and intrigued and far from satisfied.

  The physical appeal of her had been indomitable, along with what she had initially known about her, but they had nothing on the desire she felt now.

  She wanted her.

  Oh, yes, she did.

  Mind, body, and soul.

  She’d taken her to bed in her mind every night, as she often did, and grazed her fingertips along her own body while dreaming into the darkness. Knowing she was there, across the hall, a few steps away, was torturously arousing, and she’d slipped her hand between her legs on more than one occasion, bringing herself to climax quickly and powerfully, which helped to keep her in her own bed and away from Carla’s.

  And though she was trying to continue to hide her attraction, she knew Carla was picking up on it. She’d nailed her to the couch with her gentle but well-targeted questions and Janice had managed to squeeze through the walls of Carla’s force field on that occasion, but she was certain Carla would pin her down again at some point.