Maple Creek

by Elizabeth Penn

  “She was my mother’s angel,” Sarah explained, standing over my shoulder.

  “Are your parents still alive?” I asked.

  “Yes. Both of them. She gave it to me when I moved away.”

  There was a short silence as she took the angel and clipped her on the top of the tree, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. The angel’s stare was ice cold.

  “Are you religious?” I finally asked, my eyes not leaving the angel.

  Sarah sighed, “It’s complicated. I believe in God, but I struggle with the idea. I’ve always been told that God hates people like me. People like us…” She took a breath and took my hand, “I don’t believe God made me like this just to hate me. But not everyone would agree.”

  “I don’t believe God hates you,” I said, brushing my thumb across hand.

  “What about you? Are you religious?” she asked.

  I shook my head, “No. I never felt close to God, or any church, for that matter. My parents tried, but I guess it didn’t work. Maybe it’s just something wrong with me.”

  Sarah pulled me close to her and wrapped her arms around my waist, “You are beautiful, Emily.”

  I was scared, but I laid my head on her shoulder. She was soft and warm, and the smell of her vanilla perfume mixed sweetly with the spiced aroma of her house. And for a moment, I felt safe. We stood there like that for a while before she pulled away and continued pulling out decorations.

  We stretched a red silk tablecloth over the small round dining table, and set up a metal centerpiece with green sparkly pillar candles. We then hung her stocking up beside the TV since she didn’t have a fireplace, and put some holiday cookie cutters and little knick-knacks like that here and there around the house. Finally, the boxes were empty except for one final item: the mistletoe.

  She reached down and took it from the box.

  “Where should we hang the final decoration?” she asked shyly.

  I reached out taking it from her hand, and lifted my arm to hold it above us, “I think it belongs here.”

  She smiled, and with one quick motion I stepped forward, reached my arm around her waist and pulled her into me, kissing her creamy lips. She kissed me back, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I dropped the mistletoe beside us, wrapping my other arm around her.

  My heart felt light, like I might float away. I’d never kissed anyone like that before. In fact, I’d never been kissed like that before, not the way Sarah kissed me. But I was glad she did.

  Chapter 17

  The meatballs that Sarah made for diner tasted even more delicious than they smelled. She served them on chipped white plates with stained silverware, but they tasted like they had come straight out of the kitchen of a five-star restaurant. The meat was soft and juicy, spiced with visible rosemary and sage, and dripping with a thick red marinara sauce.

  She opened us a bottle of red wine, which I was hoping would ease my nerves. While the food was delicious, and the night was perfect, I still had a heavy heart. My secret sat on the tip of my tongue and begged to be spoken. I rehearsed it over and over in my head, trying to come up with the best way to start: Sarah, I’ve been meaning to tell you…There is something I need to say, but it’s difficult…Sarah, there is something from my past you should probably know…Sarah…I’m married.

  Over dinner, she bubbled about the season and the fun arts and crafts she had planned for her students for the holidays. In between topics she would ask me about my plans, to which I shrugged and asked her more about her own plans in order to keep my speaking to a minimal.

  After she wiped the last bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth with a paper napkin, she leapt from the table with a twinkle in her eye, saying, “Oh! It’s dark now. Let’s go outside and see how the lights look. At night.”

  I stood, taking her hand and walking to the front door where we put on our coats, padding out barefoot onto her front porch. The lights twinkled, and their cool white lights matched the frosty air. I looked over to Sarah, who was beaming as she admired the holiday décor. Her breath billowed out in puffy white clouds.

  “Sarah,” I started, feeling the tingling of my tongue as my secret tried to come out.

  “Yes?” She turned to me with a smile, crossing her arms with a slight shiver.

  “There is something I need to tell you before anything else happens,” I said, a shiver passing over me, but it wasn’t the cold.

  “Shh,” she hushed me, “I don’t want to talk about sad things, or the past. I just want to be right here, right now, okay?”

  “Right here, right now,” I repeated with a sigh.

  There was a moment of silence between us, and I tried to quiet the fear in my mind. I looked over her curls, her soft lips, her sparkling eyes, and the way the delicate way the twinkling icicles illuminated her fair complexion. Suddenly, the wind picked up, bringing not only her warm vanilla scent, but also a few fluffy snowdrops that floated and landed quietly in her hair.

  “Snow,” I gasped, “It’s snowing.”

  She looked up and so did I. The snow fell in silence, as even the wind died down to nothing. Puffy white balls of fluff landed on my nose and eyelashes, melting instantly. I stuck my tongue out, catching a few snowflakes as Sarah and I giggled.

  “Emily?” she asked, her voice more serious again, “Will you stay the night with me?”

  My breath caught in my throat.

  “Um, Sarah, I’m not sure. I don’t want to take things too fast,” I stuttered. I was still wrapping my mind around the idea that I had kissed a woman. I had no idea how to actually be with a woman, though. I wouldn’t know what to do. And I couldn’t be with her officially until I told her the truth about myself.

  “Oh, okay. I understand,” she said,

  She sounded disappointed, but I knew I had made the right choice. I needed some time to think.

  “How about I make us some hot chocolate to warm up, and you can head home?” she asked.

  “Alright,” I said, relaxing a bit, “But only if it has the little marshmallows in it.”

  She laughed, “I don’t have the little ones, but I can toss in one big one if you’d like.”

  “Deal.”

  The hot chocolate was thick and sugary, and she wasn’t kidding about the giant marshmallow. It became mushy and soaked up a lot of the drink, but it still tasted yummy, much like a donut dipped in coffee.

  After a shy kiss goodbye, I walked back to the B&B. My head was swimming with even more questions than before I had gone to see her. She liked me, and I liked her back. That was easy enough to understand. But she didn’t want us to be public, which I supposed was okay since I wasn’t in a good place for being in a serious relationship, anyway. And yet, I wanted to be.

  I had never imagined myself with a woman. But there was just something irresistible about Sarah. She was beautiful and bright. But there was still a knot in my stomach. I felt guilty. The little voices in my head reminded me that I was married, that this wasn’t my place. That I’d somehow failed as a wife by kissing her, because I was a cheater. And the voices of the Church rang in my head about the evils of homosexuality.

  And even worse than all of that, there was a part of me that thought maybe she was just a rebound. What had made me feel like I was flying just a few minutes earlier, was now making me feel like I was falling down into some deep dark hole all alone.

  Chapter 18

  Margaret was waiting in the living room, knitting something pink and fluffy when I came in. I took off my coat, hanging it up by the door before going in to sit beside her on the couch. She had a fire going in the fireplace.

  “Ah, Emily,” she said, putting down her knitting needles, “How was your visit?”

  “It was fine. We decorated her place for the holidays.”

  “Sounds like fun,” she smiled, “I do have something to ask you, dear.”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “While John is laid up, I was wondering if you would be the one to help me arou
nd here? I know you are still looking for a job, and I’d pay you. It’s just some paperwork and fix-it stuff. I know he taught you a few things. So, what do you say?”

  I looked around the room at the homey furniture, and at the cardboard boxes in the corner with tinsel sticking out from the sides. I needed the money. I knew I couldn’t live off of my saved up cash forever. And if I really wanted to start establishing myself in the area, I needed to get a job and start looking for a place to live.

  “Of course, Margaret. I’d love to help out. Are there specific hours you need me to work?” I asked.

  “Oh, no. I’ll just give you a list of tasks each day. It’s easy, don’t you worry. You can start tomorrow. Go get some sleep, dear,” she smiled warmly, “Thank you so much, Emily.”

  “Anytime, Margaret. Goodnight,” I said, giving her a hug before heading upstairs.

  The pink room was quiet and cozy, but the open window created a black void in the wall, and I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched. I crossed the room, shutting the curtains before rushing under the blankets of the pitch-black room, and closing my eyes. The night was full of nightmares.

  I tried to start the morning on a high note, and decided to focus my energy on the work ahead. My work at the B&B started with checking the visiting family out, finalizing payments, and filing receipts from their stay while Margaret cleaned out their room. John and Kiuchi had an emotional goodbye, and after they had exchanged numbers and she had left, he spent the rest of the day up in his room.

  The busywork helped to keep my mind off of the recent events, and since they were the kind of secretarial duties I was used to, the chores felt natural to me. There were only a few bits of manual labor I had to do around the property over the next few days. The snow continued to fall in heavy blankets, and so I had to go out and shovel the walkway daily. But even with the few added difficult chores, I was able to get into a sort of routine after only a couple of days on the job.

  Everything started to feel like it was coming together. Later that week, John felt well enough to help Margaret and I unpack the Christmas boxes. Once most of the decorations were unpacked and put up, we all decorated the tree together by the fireplace. Margaret shared funny stories of John from when he was younger, and John blushed and tried to change the subject while his fingers worked at knots in the strands of Christmas lights.

  It was all so lighthearted and fun, but it didn’t last long. I went to the kitchen to get us all some eggnog from the fridge. I placed the carton on a wooden serving tray with three of Margaret’s mismatched mugs beside it. As I passed through the foyer to bring the drinks back, the new house phone rang on the table beside the front door.

  I placed the tray on the round table in the middle of the foyer and grabbed the phone, picking up the pen beside it so I could take some notes for the customer. Margaret peeked her head around the corner.

  “Hello. This is the Maple Creek Bed and Breakfast. How may I help you?” I asked.

  “Hello?” A familiar voice spoke on the other side, “I’m looking for Emily Jacobson? But she might be using the name Emily Heart. Is she staying there with you? I’d like to speak with her.”

  My stomach tightened into knots, and I felt dizzy and cold. The pen dropped to the floor as I caught myself on the table. It was Hector. He had found me.

  “Um…I…she isn’t…” I stuttered.

  “Emily! Emily? Is that you? Talk to me!” His voice dropped deeper, and his tone became more authoritative.

  I stood, gasping for air as a tear escaped my eye. I didn’t know what to do. But Margaret swooped over, snatching the phone from my hand. I was still paralyzed in place.

  “Hello? I’m sorry, sir. That was my niece, Shelby. She is interning here, and she isn’t very good with her phone etiquette yet. How may I help you?” There was a pause, and I could hear him yelling something on the other side of the phone. “No, sir. There is no one by that name staying here. Thank you for calling, and Merry Christmas.”

  She hung up the phone with a click, and then continued, “Go sit down, sweetie. We need to talk.”

  My whole body was shaking as he guided me to sit on the couch. “John, I need to speak with Emily. Go make us soup or something for lunch.”

  He nodded, jumping to his feet, and silently exiting the room.

  I could feel my eyes welling up with tears, and my hands were shaking uncontrollably. Margaret seemed calm.

  “I’m so sorry,” I cried, “I should have told you everything about me. I’m not who you think I am. I left my husband and I’ve been hiding here.”

  “Good,” she said, folding her arms, “You are halfway done. Listen, Emily. You can’t just run away from men like him.”

  “I know, it was stupid,” I said, wiping my tears.

  “No! It was exactly the right move. But, what I mean is that you can’t just walk away and expect them to go away. Men like him, men like my son-in-law, John’s father, they will follow you. You have to do everything in your power to keep them away. You need paperwork. I know you are still trying to figure things out, but at least get a restraining order.”

  “A restraining order?” I asked. I’d heard of them, but I hadn’t really thought about getting one.

  There was a part of me that honestly believed that Hector still loved me, and that he would never hurt me. I wanted to think he was just hurt and emotional, but that even if he were to find me, it wouldn’t be to hurt me. That maybe he would change, somehow.

  “Emily,” she said more sternly, taking my hand, “I’ve already lost a daughter, don’t let me lose a friend, too.”

  My heart shattered with her words, and I remembered the story that John had told me about his mother, and how he knew something was wrong, but they could never do anything about it. But now it was my turn to do something.

  “Okay, I’ll go get a restraining order tomorrow,” I nodded.

  Margaret threw her arms around me, “Thank you!”

  A few minutes later, John returned with bowls of chicken soup for each of us. We ate, and soon, the laughter returned. The rest of the day was spent decking the halls with tinsel, candles, and jingle bells.

  Chapter 19

  I did as Margaret suggested, and filled out the paperwork for a restraining order the next day. Beside the desk at the courthouse there were also pamphlets on the divorce process. I took one, quietly slipping it into my purse while assuring my sinking heart that it was just for informative purposes. Once the paperwork was filled out, I was given a court date for a few days later.

  I stopped at a small park during my walk back to the B&B. My head was spinning and I thought a little fresh air would do me some good. There were a few kids there with their parents. Their book-bags were strewn around the equipment, since they had only just gotten out of class. Walking around the perimeter of the park was also an elderly couple in matching red jogging suits and hats.

  I sat on one of the empty benches and took a few deep breaths, watching the cloud billow out into the cold air. There was still about a foot of snow piled up around the bench, and I quietly counted the footprints in the snow from people, animals, and little birds. I looked up again at the people in the park, and noticed that there was now a woman sitting on the bench on the far side of the park now. It was Sarah.

  I hadn’t talked to her in days, and I immediately found myself standing from my bench and crossing the park over to where she sat. I had no control over my steps or the pull that I felt in my chest, like a rope that tied me to her. Now instead of footprints, I was counting how many bouncing ringlets framed her face.

  “Sarah, hey. How are you?” I asked, a lot less confidently than it sounded in my head.

  “Oh my gosh! Hey, Emily. It’s so nice to see you here. I hate that you don’t have a phone. I wish we could talk more. What have you been up to?” She patted the seat beside her, and I sat down.

  “Oh, you know. Just helping out around the B&B while John recovers. We just finished decoratin
g for the holidays so that when the next couple visitors come in about a week, it will be all ready for them.”

  “That sounds fun. I had a wonderful time decorating my place with you, Emily. I was actually wondering…” she started, scooching a little closer to me on the bench, “I was wondering if maybe you would like to come over for Christmas Eve?”

  “I’d love that,” I smiled, excited to have another date planned with her. “So, what brings you to the park?”

  “Oh, I come here all the time after work to get a breather before going home. It’s really close to the school and my house, which is nice. What about you? What are you up to today?” she asked.

  “I was, um…I was at the courthouse doing some paperwork,” I said. I wanted so much to be honest, but I also was afraid to tell her about Hector. I thought that if I told her, she might not want to see me anymore.

  “Ugh. Moving, right? I hate having to go up and change my addresses and fill out paperwork for this and that.”

  “Um, yeah. It was paperwork. It wasn’t fun,” I said, fidgeting in my seat a bit.

  Sarah and I weren’t serious. At least, no yet. And disclosing information about exes, which is what I considered him, wasn’t something you wouldn’t disclose until the relationship got serious. Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

  “Well, I’ve got to get home and grade these papers on writing ABC’s. But it was great talking to you. I’m so glad we ran into each other. I hope we see each other more often.”

  With a quick hug, she swung her flower-covered tote bag of paperwork over her shoulder and walked away down the street. After a few more minutes of people watching, I stood to go back to the B&B, but my foot snagged on something. I looked down to see that it was a lunchbox. It was purple with some elegant white flowers painted on the side. The artistic style made me think that it must have been Sarah’s that she had left there by accident, and so I scooped it up and took it back with me.