A Love that Leads to Home

by Ronica Black

  Sitting there in her house, swallowed up in loneliness and depression, however, was no way to live. If she didn’t face the truth, that’s how things would continue. Because there was just no way she’d be getting over Carla and her dreams of Arizona by simply carrying on. She might be able to get up and eventually go to work every day when the time came, but every night she’d come back to this loneliness and depression. If she continued to do that, then Carla would be right. She’d keep wasting her life away, pretending everything was fine.

  She tried to explain it to Maurine.

  “It’s like waking up to the same painting hanging on your wall day after day. You loved the painting when you picked it out and hung it, and you love it now. But you’re ready for something different. You want to look at other paintings, see other landscapes. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find another painting that you love just as much, and you’ll want to wake up to it every morning instead. It doesn’t mean you love the old painting any less. You just want a different experience, a different view.”

  “Okaay,” Maurine said softly. “So, what are you going to do? Stay in here and grow like a fungus on your couch? Or read your life away?” She reached for a book. “Getting lost in these?”

  Janice didn’t even bother to worry about what she was holding in her hand. She was too busy trying to get her to understand without verbally tearing her apart.

  “Maurine, you aren’t getting it. I’m saying the exact opposite.”

  She didn’t seem to hear her. “Janice, what happened with Carla wasn’t your fault. You don’t need to feel guilty and beat yourself up about it. You don’t need to hide away in here.”

  “You’re not hearing me.”

  “Carla, she—”

  “Enough about Carla!”

  Maurine’s eyes were wide with alarm.

  “Okay, calm down.”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Janice continued, unimpeded. “What happened…it wasn’t all her.”

  “What do you mean? She—”

  “I was there too.” She ran her hand through her hair, frustrated. “Damn it, Maurine. Stop blaming her for everything. She didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t do anything I didn’t want.”

  Maurine stared at her.

  “What—you mean—you’re saying—”

  “That I liked it?” She stared right back into her. “That I wanted it? Wanted her?”

  The color drained from Maurine’s face.

  “Yes, Maurine, I did. I wanted it. I wanted her. I wanted her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. And I’ll tell you something else. I didn’t just like it. I loved it. Making love with her surpasses everything. Everything. I couldn’t have even dreamed, imagined how incredible it was. And believe me I tried. I tried for the last three years.”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re—”

  “I’m not confused. I’m not vulnerable. I’m gay, Maurine.”

  Maurine looked as though she’d been smacked. “But you—”

  “Just because I was with a man doesn’t mean I’m not gay. I loved him, yes. But there was no passion. No desire. Only a friendship. An understanding of sorts. And that, I now know, is not a loving, romantic relationship. That is not happiness.”

  “And Carla…is?”

  “Yes. I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been this summer. And she’s the reason why.”

  Maurine stared down at the table and then her gaze shifted to the back of the book in her hand. Her eyes widened again and then closed.

  “This book is about two women. You’re reading…gay…”

  “Lesbian romances. I’ve been reading them for a couple of years now.”

  Maurine’s eyes flew open as if she’d just heard her reference to time. “Years? How could it have been years? How did this—when did you—”

  “It started the night Carla came out.”

  “And she said she didn’t influence you when she obviously did. And you’re telling me not to be upset with her?”

  “Listen. Okay? I need you to really listen.” She took a breath and started in, confessing things she’d never thought she’d be able to confess. Not even to Maurine.

  “When Carla told us she was gay, something happened inside of me. I was immediately struck and…excited. My heart raced and my skin burned, and I couldn’t stop looking at her. It was like I had been jolted awake, jolted to attention. And there she was. Right in front of me. This woman I had known for as long as I can remember, whom I always had love for and admired and thought beautiful, suddenly came to life in front of me. Almost like a blooming flower. One I had never seen fully open before. She was captivating. And hearing that she was attracted to women and wanted to be with women, well, that just sent me over the edge. I got lost in delirium imagining that. And eventually, got lost in delirium imagining her being with me.”

  Maurine glanced away and it seemed difficult for her to speak.

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “How could I? I wasn’t even sure what exactly was happening. I was as surprised and confused by my feelings as you are now. Even when I figured things out and halfway understood my feelings, I knew you wouldn’t take it well. And I knew why. I’m your best friend. Carla is your niece. We’re both women. I didn’t expect you to just accept it.”

  Janice softened her tone. “And the way you react to news you don’t like, didn’t encourage me to confide in you. I feared you shutting me out, rejecting me. I feared losing you.”

  Maurine turned toward the window. “I understand,” she said. “I can see why you’d be afraid to come to me.” She sighed and laughed a little. “And here I’ve been scared that you and Carla’s closeness would lead to your rejection of me. I feel so stupid, now. I’ve been acting like such a jerk.”

  She met Janice’s gaze. “I’m sorry for that, Jay Jay. I am. But honestly, I’m still not sure how to take this. Or even what to say. It’s like I just walked in on you and Carla in bed all over again. I feel like I don’t know you, or even if I ever really did.” She shook her head. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just—I thought we were best friends.”

  “We are.”

  “Then I should’ve known. Whether you were able to tell me or not.”

  “What would you have done had you known sooner?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Understand? Be supportive?”

  She sighed. “I wish I could say yes, but I’d be lying. Truth is…I woulda freaked out. I guess that means I’m not such a good friend after all. Because I’m sitting here, taking this in and really hearing you but I still can’t make this feel okay.”

  “Do you love me?” Janice asked.

  Maurine sniffled as if tears were going to come. “Yes.”

  “Right now, after everything I’ve just told you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you love Carla?”

  Her face clouded but with what looked like anguish and guilt rather than anger.

  “Yes.”

  “I do too, Maurine. I’m in love with her.”

  “Are you…sure?”

  “Yes. And she loves me.”

  Maurine grew quiet and Janice gave her some time to process.

  “And we both love you,” Janice finally said.

  “Carla’s angry. She has every right to be. I hurt her.”

  “She still loves you. She always will. Just as I will. Whether you choose to accept me for who I am or not. I love you. Rain or shine.”

  “Lord,” she said as she stood and came to sit next to her. “I can’t sit here and let my feelings ruin what we have. This ain’t about me.” She opened her arms and pulled Janice into a firm hug and kissed her cheek repeatedly. “I got to quit thinking about my own feelings so much.” She gripped her arms tightly and looked at her with deep sincerity. “I’m still in shock and all and I’m still trying to make sense of this and exactly how it is I feel about it, but that don’t mean I can’t love and support you.”

 
Janice fell into her, relief and heartfelt love completely washing over her.

  “You don’t know how much what you just said means.”

  Maurine held her and rubbed her back. “Maybe not. But if it means anything close to what you mean to me, then I know it’s a whole hell of a lot.”

  “Thank you,” Janice said, as she began to cry.

  “You don’t need to thank me,” Maurine said, her voice finally giving way to tears as well. “That’s what friends are for.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Janice sat swaying quietly in the old porch swing nestled deep in the back of Mamie’s carport. She’d retreated to the swing often as a child when she’d needed a break and some alone time from play with her boisterous cousins. The spot was a peaceful reprieve and she’d contemplated many things from that old swing. She reckoned that’s what had drawn her there now.

  She gave herself a gentle push with her foot, content with the lulling of the continued swaying. The afternoon was hot and sticky, but she was oblivious, lost in her thoughts and the comfort of the dark, cool carport. Nothing but her, the swing, and the daddy longlegs lounging in his web in the corner.

  But the door to the house opened and changed all that.

  “I thought that was your car I seen sitting in the driveway,” Mamie said, easing open the screen door. “Whatcha doin’ sitting out here, sugar?”

  “Just thinking.”

  Mamie seemed to consider that for a moment. “You come all this way to sit in my swing and think?”

  Janice shrugged. “I guess I did, yes.” She took in the lush lawn and the bushes and trees beyond the driveway, remembering how she and her cousins ran barefoot through it all, chasing each other and laughing on long summer days just like this one. She smiled at the memory and watched as a wasp ducked under the roof and disappeared into its nest in the upper corner of the carport. It seemed she and the daddy longlegs weren’t the only living occupants after all. She looked back to Mamie, who, in turn, was watching her. Janice tried to explain something she didn’t quite understand herself. “I was driving through town, thinking about old times, thinking about now, searching for answers. But I didn’t find any. So, I kept driving, kind of lost as to where I might find them, and I ended up here.”

  “You finding any?”

  “No. Only memories.”

  “Maybe that’s where your answers lie.”

  Janice couldn’t see how. All she knew was that the memories had been and still were surrounding her, spilling into her mind everywhere she looked, filling her up with their bitter sweetness, causing her to laugh one second and cry the next. The process was becoming relentless and she’d never expected it to carry on for more than two days.

  “I heard your friend left,” Mamie said. “That Sims girl. Went back to Arizona.”

  Janice swallowed hard, wondering just what all she’d heard. The sudden panic made her wince and she cursed herself for it, knowing she shouldn’t be so worried about what people knew and what they thought. It seemed to be a habit, one she knew well from having to hide for so long. Breaking it would be a struggle, but she was determined to try.

  “Carla,” Janice clarified, bringing on more pain. “Yes, she went home.” She touched her throat, feeling as though her voice would soon fail her.

  After another long moment, Mamie edged the door open farther. “Why don’t you come on inside and sit a spell and talk to your old Mamie? Sometimes talking things through helps you find your way.”

  Janice stood and crossed to the door. She and Mamie embraced as she stepped inside and the feel of her familiar warmth and softness almost made her cry. Mamie seemed to notice. She closed the door and reached for her face.

  “Lord, child, you look like you got the world itself on your shoulders.”

  Janice teared up but couldn’t bring herself to speak.

  Mamie held her and studied her carefully with her lively eyes. She’d always been able to see Janice, to sense things about her when no one else could. She was intuitive.

  Just like Carla said I was.

  She got choked up at the thought of her.

  Mamie, saw that reaction too. She touched her shoulders, her face drawn with obvious concern.

  “Why don’t you go sit down?” She walked with Janice to the couch.

  “Where are you going?” Janice asked as she walked away and bypassed her recliner.

  “I thought you might like a glass of tea.”

  Janice shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m not thirsty right now.”

  “It ain’t about thirst, sugar. It’s about comfort.” She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of iced tea. She gave it to Janice and then headed for the hallway. Janice chose not to ask after her that time and instead sipped her drink.

  She found Mamie to be correct. The tea tasted damn good and she felt her spirits lift a little. She looked out the window and got lost in her thoughts again. She was so disconnected from her present surroundings; she didn’t even notice when Mamie reentered the room. She had sat down next to her before she could fully grasp her presence once again.

  “I got something for you,” she said, patting the lid to an old shoebox.

  “For me?”

  “Uh-huh. You’re the only one of all the young’uns in my life who I think can truly appreciate this. I always thought you might be, but I put off sharing it with you, waiting for you to come into your own. It seems now that maybe I waited too long. I hope that ain’t the case. But either way, this is yours now. Maybe it can still help in some way. Maybe it can help ease that torment I can see a-brewing in your eyes.”

  She handed Janice the box.

  Janice smoothed her hand across the top, having no idea what could possibly be inside.

  “Go ahead, child. Open it,” Mamie said, squeezing her arm.

  Janice removed the lid and found a box full of old photographs and letters. She sifted through them, curious, but didn’t see anything or anyone in the photos that looked familiar. Confused, she held one of the photos up for closer inspection.

  “Who is this?” she asked, looking closely at what appeared to be two happy women, sitting on a low, concrete ledge, legs dangling in front of them, arms entwined, and laughter on their faces.

  Mamie scooted closer, smiling, and pointed to the woman on the left.

  “That’s your great-aunt Gale.”

  Janice stared harder. “That’s Aunt Gale?”

  “Sure is.”

  “She looks so young. So…happy.”

  “She was,” Mamie said. “Both.”

  Janice studied the woman next to her. She was just as attractive as Gale, but noticeably different in appearance. Gale had her hair set, dark lipstick on, and a dress that form-fit to her body. The woman next to her was all natural. From her free-flowing hair, to her makeup-free face, to her casual shirt and pants. Her femininity was still clearly evident, even if it wasn’t in her choice of clothes. And even those she wore to fit her own style, with the sleeves to her shirt rolled up at the cuff showing the sinewy strength to her lean forearms. Her shirt was only buttoned halfway up, leaving the collar and a great deal more open, showing off her graceful looking chest and neckline. A very thin necklace hugged her neck, its charm, one that looked like a small heart, rested in the hallow of her throat.

  Her whole ensemble had Janice’s pulse racing as she continued to look back between her aunt and the woman, her eyes glued to their entwined arms and laughing faces.

  “That there is Liza,” Mamie said.

  “Liza,” Janice whispered.

  “She was the friend of Gale’s I was telling you about.”

  Janice ran her finger along the photo, already knowing, before Mamie had even said a word, that this was the woman she’d spoken of before. This was Great-Aunt Gale’s special someone. She didn’t have to wonder much at all as to just how special she was to Gale. Love and joy exuded from them both along with a sense of their deep connection.

  “
I remember,” Janice said. She touched Liza’s face, feeling her own connection. “Did I ever meet her? She seems so familiar.”

  “No, sugar. Liza died many years ago. Long before you was born. She died before her time.”

  Janice looked at her. “Why?”

  Mamie shifted as if uncomfortable. “It ain’t a pretty story.”

  Janice touched her arm. “Mamie? Please tell me.”

  Mamie stared out the window before she finally nodded. “One night Gale and Liza went out looking for a drink. They had to drive a spell, seeing as how this is a dry county and all and they found a popular old hole-in-the-wall full of smoke, liquor, and wild people. They was all sorts of things that went on there, such as gambling and things like that. But that never stopped Gale and Liza. It was like they was drawn to places and people like that from time to time. They loved the freedom they felt there in those places I reckon. And most of the time, they enjoyed themselves and let loose. But this one night, things didn’t turn out so well.

  “Seems there was a man there who didn’t like how comfortable Gale and Liza was with each other. And he made it known. Spouted off. Liza mouthed off back at him, and he didn’t take too kindly to that. So he got it in his head to go after Gale. He sauntered up to her and came on to her and started putting his hands all over her. Gale tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let her go. Liza went plum crazy and managed to get him off her, but they fell to the floor, fighting. Only…” She paused, her eyes glazed with sadness, focused somewhere beyond the room. “He was the only one to get up when it was over. Liza never did.”