A Love that Leads to Home

by Ronica Black

  She dropped her head and stared at her hands.

  “He had stabbed her. Right in the heart.”

  Janice covered her mouth. She trembled at both Mamie’s obvious pain and the awful pain Gale must’ve gone through in losing Liza.

  “That is so terrible, Mamie. I’m so sorry.”

  Mamie nodded. “It was. Gale was never the same. She never got over Liza.” She looked up at her. “Ever.”

  Janice gripped Mamie’s hand. Mamie squeezed hers in return.

  “That’s why I’m giving this to you. Because I see your aunt Gale in you. And I think, now that you seen those photos, that you do too.”

  Janice was speechless. Her heart raced with anguish from her aunt’s despair, love from the familiar passion she must’ve felt for Liza and comfort in the form of recognition. Of feeling a connection with a woman she hadn’t really known at all. A kindred spirit.

  “And I think the reason Liza seems so familiar to you is because…well, because she’s a lot like your friend.”

  Janice smiled before she could stop herself. She tried to cover it with her hand.

  But Mamie gently pulled her hand away.

  “Carla Sims is your Liza.”

  Janice’s breath hitched and she tried to cover her mouth again, this time to try to stave off tears. But Mamie wouldn’t let her. She kept hold of her hand, kept their gaze locked.

  “You don’t got to be afraid, sugar. Not with me. I knew about your aunt Gale even before she did. I was the one who told her she was in love with Liza. And that she outta quit fighting it and just be with her. Because there was no doubt that Liza was in love with Gale. She fell for Gale the second she saw her the summer Liza moved to town.”

  She smiled softly. “And now, after all these years, I’m sitting here telling you the same thing. Hoping you’ll quit fighting it. You are in love with Carla Sims. I knew it the second I asked you about her. When you was sitting right here on this couch. You couldn’t hide it, not from me. Because when I looked at you that day, when we was talking about Carla, I saw the way your eyes was a-shining and that little smile of yours kept reappearing. I saw the way you blushed, the way you fidgeted. Sugar, I saw my sister. She was in you, staring right back at me.

  “And when I heard Carla had left and that you was all tore up, well, I knew for sure then. I just kept hoping and waiting for you to come around. I figured at some point you would.”

  She brushed her hand across Janice’s cheek. “Quit fighting it, child. And go be with her. She’s your someone special and when you got someone like that, you can’t take it for granted.” She nodded toward the photo. “They’d tell you the same thing. Be together while you can. For as long as you can. You don’t want to have any regrets and you don’t want to feel like you didn’t get enough time.”

  She patted her leg, took the photo, set it in the box, and closed the lid.

  “Take Gale and Liza with you. Look at their photos. At their faces. See the love. Read their letters and feel the love. You do that, sugar, and you won’t have any more trouble in finding those answers you’re after. This town, these people, they’re all in your heart and in your mind. You can call upon them anytime, just like you did today. You don’t got to be here to do that.”

  Hot tears streamed down Janice’s face. She hugged Mamie so hard she protested, but Janice didn’t ease up. She held tight and sobbed into the sweet scent of her neck.

  Mamie soothed her and stroked her back. “It’s okay, sugar. It’s okay. You can let it all go now. Just let go and let love do its thing. You been waiting long enough.”

  “I’m just so scared,” Janice said, pulling back. “Not so much of everyone knowing, I mean, I’m still not exactly relaxed over it or anything. But I’m getting there. I’m more scared of seeing Carla. Of telling her how I feel about her. I was—I told her to leave, Mamie. That was my response to her telling me she loves me. She would have every right to slam the door in my face.”

  “She told you she loves you?”

  “Yes. And so much more. And I—I was a coward. I pushed her away. I can’t bear the thought that I’ve lost her forever. It’s just too terrifying.”

  “That’s how you know you got to go tell her. Your fear. You being afraid is how you know your feelings are real. That they are strong and deep and worth more than anything. If they wasn’t that deep and meaningful, you wouldn’t be so scared. If you ain’t doing things that scare you from time to time, then you ain’t living. That’s what my Mama used to say.”

  She wiped Janice’s tears with the backs of her fingers.

  “It’s about time you started living, sugar.”

  Janice gripped her hands. “As always, Mamie. I think you may be right.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Carla turned off the steaming flow of water with her toe, satisfied with the increased warmth of her bath water. She’d been soaking long enough for the water to cool, but rather than climb out and face another night going to bed alone, where she’d no doubt spend hours chasing sleep that just wouldn’t come, she’d topped off the tub with more hot water, content to remain where she was, where at least the temperature of the water could heat her body. Her insides however, and that spot just behind her sternum, the place that had recently been reanimated and filled to the brim with light and love, had stilled and gone dark, as if it had been unplugged. Nothing, it seemed, could penetrate the chill that now resided there.

  She sank farther into the bath, submerging her shoulders and the back of her head, the water flowing around her ears. Her eyes fell closed and she tried to relax her mind, hoping it would follow her body and give in to the massage of the heated water. But so far it was refusing and even the muffled, womb-like sound in her ears wasn’t enough to help. Her varied attempts to block out the world, which had grown more significant with the passing of days, continued to fail.

  Nadine, unfortunately, had noticed and she’d been blowing up her phone since she’d returned home. It wasn’t like Carla hadn’t tried to move on and go on with her life with a good attitude and a smile on her face. She’d spent time with friends, gone out for meals and drinks, smiled, laughed, cried. She had done those things with every intention of carrying on. But her attempts had fallen flat. Her friends hadn’t bought into it. Her despair was just too deep to mask. Nadine had said her sadness orbited her, surrounding her like a bubble, somehow fixed to her like the pull of a magnet. Carla had argued with her, but arguing with Nadine was pointless, especially when Carla knew she was right. So, instead of battling with her and instead of feigning off the overly concerned looks from her friends, she’d started staying at home and avoiding everyone altogether.

  At least at home she was free to wallow in her misery. That is, when Nadine wasn’t dialing her number every other hour. She’d remedied that though and given Nadine her own ring tone. She could better avoid her calls, and more importantly, she could stop jumping up with a rush of hope and excitement, thinking it might be Janice, only to be crushed with disappointment.

  Though she knew it was probably pointless, she’d also assigned a ring tone for Janice, wanting to be sure she’d know it was her if she called. But the song she’d chosen, “At Last” by Etta James, had yet to play anywhere other than her mind where it seemed to repeat continuously. She could even hear it now. In the bath. Under the water. Like it was somewhere in the distance.

  She opened her eyes, something sounding off, different. The same line of the song was repeating. She sat up. Listened.

  Nothing. She rubbed her face, confused. She thought about slipping down into the water again, but Etta James called out. This time clear as a bell. Close by. She scrambled from the tub, slid into her satin robe, and hurried into her bedroom. She scooped up her phone, her motionless and cold heart suddenly careening and beating with fire, saw Janice’s name on the screen, and answered.

  “Hello?”

  Silence.

  Her heart stopped. Dead stopped in the center of her chest. I
t actually caused pain and she could feel the fire it had beat through her begin to cool.

  “Janice? Hello, are you there?”

  Please, be there.

  “Hi.” The greeting was soft, almost shy. But it was her. It was Janice.

  Carla nearly buckled with relief. “Hi.”

  “I—are you home?”

  Carla blinked. “Yeah. I’m at home.”

  “Oh. Are you busy?”

  “No, I can talk.”

  “That would be—nice. I would like that. Only—”

  Carla waited, her hesitation threatening to cause a panic.

  “Only, what?”

  “I—I would like to do it in person.”

  Carla palmed her forehead. “I would like that too, but don’t you think talking like this is better than nothing?”

  “No,” she said. “No, I don’t. It’s not good enough. I want to talk to you in person.”

  Carla pushed out a breath and ran her hand through her damp hair. “Janice, what do you want me to do? Come back? To talk?”

  Dear God, I will. I’ll do it. If you say yes, I’ll book the next flight. It may be crazy but so is how I’ve been feeling here without you.

  “No, I don’t want you to do anything.”

  Carla clenched her eyes.

  “Wait, no, that’s not entirely true. There is one thing I need you to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  The doorbell rang, echoing throughout the house.

  Carla opened her eyes.

  Janice spoke.

  “I need you to answer your door.”

  The phone fell from Carla’s hand. She stared at the doorway to her bedroom in disbelief. The doorbell rang again. She ran into the hallway, sprinted across the tile and through the living room. The runner bunched as she slammed to a stop at the front door. She tried to catch her breath as she rested her forehead on the doorframe.

  Could she really be here? Could she?

  She quickly tied the belt to her robe, unlocked the door, and pulled it open slowly, afraid to find the front entry vacant, to feel that crush of disappointment she’d been trying so hard to avoid. But as the door edged farther open, Carla felt that rush of hope and excitement she’d felt with nearly every ring of her phone.

  For Janice was really there, right next to her potted cactus, smiling shyly.

  “Hi.”

  Carla struggled to speak. “Uh, hi. Hi. Hello.”

  “I was hoping we could talk. In person.”

  Carla pushed on the door. “Of course. Yes. I—come in.”

  Janice moved and Carla saw her luggage. Her throat tightened. She hadn’t packed light. She wanted to cry. She swallowed it down, trying not to anticipate anything, but failing completely.

  She stepped out into the night and grabbed her luggage.

  “I can get it,” Janice said.

  “Don’t even try,” Carla said. “You’re on my turf now. And yes, I know you want to say I told you so about my going out of my way for you, just as you said I would, but I wouldn’t do that either if I was you.” She set the luggage inside and turned. “That would be dangerous at the moment.” She smiled and welcomed her inside. Janice entered the house and quietly looked around, like she was taking everything in but didn’t want to be too obvious about it.

  “Your home, it’s very rustic but colorful. It’s beautiful.”

  Carla closed the door and carried her bags into the living room.

  “Most everything you see was made in Mexico. Furniture, rugs, artwork. I got lucky with some of them, bought them at a local store I loved that had to close down. The rest, I picked up over the years. But I can’t take credit for the decorating and arranging. That’s all my friend Nadine’s doing.”

  “These, what are these?” Janice asked, staring at one of her decorated walls.

  “Sugar skulls.”

  “Sugar what?”

  Carla laughed and started to explain but Janice moved away from the wall, shaking her head.

  “Maybe you can fill me in later.”

  There was very little light in the room, some spilling in from the window above the door from the porch light and some spilling in from the hallway. But Carla could see her face, see the fine, delicate features and the milky white of her skin. She could also see the worry in her eyes and the fidgeting of her hands.

  In fact, the dim light was doing very little to hinder her sight and there was nothing at all hindering her other senses.

  “You smell so good,” Carla said, unable to keep that particular realization to herself. Janice appeared to be wound tighter than a top and Carla hoped her confession wouldn’t send her running for the door.

  “So do you. Like your cologne, but more subtle.”

  “Body wash,” Carla said.

  “You were in the shower,” Janice said. “I noticed that you’re…wet.”

  “Bath,” Carla clarified.

  “I hope I didn’t interrupt.”

  “You did, actually.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I—”

  “Don’t be. I’d much rather be standing here with you than soaking all alone in the tub.” She smiled at her again, hoping to ease her anxiety. But Janice rang her hands and only offered a weak smile in return.

  “Would you like to sit down?” Carla motioned toward the couch. “Or maybe something to eat or drink?”

  “No,” Janice said. “I need to—talk.”

  “You don’t want to at least sit down?”

  “No. I just need to say some things and I don’t want to get too comf—”

  She’s not planning on staying. At least not here, not with me.

  “Okay,” Carla said.

  Janice seemed to be waiting for her to say more. When she didn’t, she suddenly started in.

  “I’m sorry, Carla,” she blurted. “I never should’ve treated you the way I did. I never should’ve told you to go. It wasn’t what I really wanted. Not at all. I was scared, like you said. I reacted with fear. I didn’t think I could face being gay, or face telling anyone else. Maurine’s reaction that day brought those fears to life and I—panicked. And I pushed you away because of that. I’m so sorry. I know I hurt you. And if you can’t forgive me, I understand. I wouldn’t blame you. I hope you can. Hope you will. But regardless, I came all this way to apologize to you. Because at the very least I owed you that.”

  She stopped just as suddenly as she’d started. She’d stopped fidgeting too but now she was trembling.

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I do.”

  “You apologized and that’s enough. You’re scared. I’d be a bold-faced liar if I denied understanding that. Coming out is not easy for some people. Even in this day and age and I probably shouldn’t have pushed you. So, I apologize as well. You didn’t have to come all this way to apologize to me, but your doing so is a testament to who you really are, Janice. You’re something special, so please don’t continue to beat yourself up because you’re scared.”

  She opened her mouth. Closed it. “I was scared. But—I’m not scared of that anymore.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. I’ve told quite a few people here recently, so, of course, I’m sure the entire county knows by now.” She smiled and Carla responded like a wilted flower that had just been shined upon by the sun.

  “I wouldn’t doubt it.” Carla took a step toward her, drawn to her like she very well was the sun and she needed her warmth and light to live, to exist. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit down? Now that you’ve got that off your chest? Relax a little.”

  She shook her head. “No—I. There’s one more thing.”

  What else could there possibly be? Why does she still look like she’s going to bolt at any second?

  “And I am scared to tell you this.”

  Carla took another step, wanting to reach for her. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “Please.” She held out a hand, stopping her. “Carla, I—” She
glanced away. But then she looked back at her and stared directly into her eyes. “Carla, I love you. I’m in love with you. No, not just in love. I’m madly, deeply, crazy, in love with you. And I really came all this way to tell you that. I wanted to look into your eyes and say it. Because I need you to know it’s true, despite the way I acted when you told me the same. I love you. And I’m scared saying it, of telling you, because you have every right to turn me away, to say it’s too late, that I’ve hurt you too badly. I’m so scared you’re going to do that that I’m standing here shaking like a leaf and—”

  Carla crossed to her, reached out and cupped her face and conquered her mouth with her own, kissing her long, and deep and slow, until Janice made a noise of surrender and threatened to collapse where she stood.

  Carla kissed her for what felt like an eternity, drinking her in, every last delicious drop, having longed for the feel of her, for the taste of her. She kissed her until she, too, felt like she might weaken and fall with her to the floor.

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” Carla breathed as she finally pulled her lips from hers. “I could never turn you away. I’ve done nothing but ache for you like a part of me had broken away and been left behind in North Carolina. I’ve never ached like that in my life.”

  Janice clung to her robe, as if she needed to for strength.

  “You’re not hurt? Upset?”

  “Yes, I was torn to pieces, Janice. And I was upset with myself for falling for you. For giving my heart away again when I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. But I was never angry at you. And the more I thought about things and tried to convince myself to be angry and cynical and curse love all over again, I realized I couldn’t. Not this time, even though my heart had gone cold and dark in my chest. I just couldn’t do it and I couldn’t figure out why until I picked up my phone with the anticipation of hearing your voice and my heart suddenly jump-started back to life as if it had never stopped. Everything you evoke in me, every feeling, every thought, every desire, it all came rushing back and the familiarity of its return felt so good as it flooded into and filled all those dark, empty places inside. And when I opened that door and saw you standing there, I knew I’d never feel this way about anyone else, ever again. This is all you, Janice,” she said touching her own heart. “I love you beyond what I thought possible.”