Jane
The porch swing creaked as we slammed into the back of it. Large sighs exhaling at the relief of it all. "I've always appreciated your sponeteninety Janine."
"I don't plan to be here long..."
She rested her arm along the wooden rest when she looked out across her open lawn with a soft mourning. "Not if you're speaking earnestly." She finally looked over with a half smile. I must've just caught her after waking up. Her face was fresh and baby like even as she aged. The hair she failed to have dyed recently ways receding into a chestnut-greyed ponytail.
I adored Linda for all she has done for me, and sometimes I wonder where her threshold will be. "What are you here for?" She asked after I let too much time pass. "Though you must know I have a feeling."
This time I wasn't nervous or ridged, I just spoke. "About what my mother or Florence?"
"I figured the latter but now I'm curious about your mother."
"Well she showed up on my doorstep asking for my father's things."
"As in...?"
"Everything. The money, paintings, books. The house." I scoffed with my arms folded and suddenly we were no longer rocking.
"Let's go inside Janine I can't stand this heat."
She lead me into the kitchen where she pulled out a wooden chair with a crocheted doily in the seat. I sat hesitantly, more familiar with her office or living room and surprised at how casual she was being. She motioned for me to sit while she busied herself with the coffee machine.
With her back turned, she added, "She hasn't seen you in years and that's all she came for." She made a mental note of it for her own judgement, but because she could not deflect that on to me, she simply peered over and asked, "how does that make you feel?"
"Angry." The answer was easy. "I didn't expect a harmonious reunion but she is my mother." She said nothing while the coffee brewed, making a terrible sound that sounded as if someone was clearing their throat of a bad cold. In an instant, it seemed the sun disappeared behind the clouds and the room was now dull as was the day.
She stayed in the corner where the granite tops met, cupping her hands around her freshly made brew. "And what was you response?"
"Well I heard it from Nicky before I did her. I was taken aback of course, partially offended. He's my father and she never cared to marry him legally. He always made sure we were taken care of even from a distance. I don't know why she wants to keep taking from him." I felt myself start to shake. I hadn't spoke of him in this much depth in awhile and it was making my never ending wound reopen and start to sting.
Linda took a quick sip, "It's diabolical. But if she wants to drown in him let her. Maybe her guilt has finally caught up to her."
I disagreed. She didn't have enough conscience for sympathy. The father of her child dies and she's looking for her name in the will. "Well anyway, I'm letting her take it."
Linda's eyes widened and averted from her cup, so shaken and reddening she had to place it down.
I shook my head. This was not what I intended for us to be talking about. "No. It's settled. I'm not stupid Lin, I kept what I needed to, sold what she doesn't know about to galleries and libraries. She has greed, he has a legacy. That was most important to me. She can get the scraps if that's what she needs to cling onto to make herself feel better."
Linda stood erect, somewhat astound at my words while searching for her next ones.
"May I have a cup myself?" I motioned. Linda seemed thankful at another opportunity to stall while holding her tongue and repeated her steps from earlier. Truthfully, I felt a headache arising and was ready to talk about what I felt to be a more pressing situation. I was hoping something hot would distract from how cool things had turned. The sun was no longer out and Linda was not happy. Both were unlikely and unnerving for the time being.
Some dishes clanked on the other side of the kitchen, "I must say, I'm not really understanding you on this Janine."
"That's alright. I didn't need you to and quite honestly when I made the decision, I didn't know either." I crossed my arms and checked my phone to see if there could be any possible missed calls from unknown numbers who could possibly be Florence. I told her to call once she was done at Harper's but hadn't heard anything. Before my impatience could start crawling Lin placed the mug before me.
I took a sip, jittery before it could even get into my system. "You know when I talked to Nicky he brought up a good point, kinda surprised me actually." I chuckled, before I could recall the whole Kaylee thing and any humor subsided. "But he suggested maybe this was the best way I could move on was to move all his stuff out." I looked over, desperate for her counsel now. "Do you agree?"
She took a shallow sip just enough to coat her tongue. "I do. But I must admit why this wasn't obvious to do earlier on? Why now, and I don't really believe it's because of your mother." She wasn't being judgmental but she had a tone I didn't like.
Linda finally took a seat and let herself lean back to the point its front legs were off the ground. We locked eyes before she briefly looked elsewhere. She was terribly avoidant today and I was the one who couldn't seem to keep my mouth shut. "I would say it's because of Florence. She gives me something to look forward to. She makes happiness seem more tangible and I would like to tap into that given I hadn't felt that way for fourteen years. I searched in it in all the wrong places, but these past few months with her have taught me so much more about myself." I scoffed, raising the mug to my lips and letting it sit there. I wished in that moment they could be on her's. She could be near and know this was the way I spoke about her when she wasn't around.
"You love her." Linda said almost sickened.
"I do." I spoke unashamedly despite how unpractical it was. "And maybe that's what I was really missing all along."
Linda tried not to scoff, roll her eyes, or flat out spit. She was antsy and now irritated because I had just up and dismantled over fifteen years of work and dedication. All that research and prescriptions, all the diagnoses and test for me to throw it all away, suddenly healed because of love. I knew her well enough to know the twinkle in her eye wasn't because of anything magical and she was seeing me in a new light she had perhaps been trying so long and hard not to. I was pathetic, and damnit I knew it too.
We let it be silent, for if either of us spoke, what came out might be too sensitive for either of our ears. She finished her cup of coffee while mine cooled off.
Then eventually she cleared her throat. "Forgive me, I know my response has not been what you may have wanted."
"You know I don't have any expectations."
She held her hand up to stop me ,"don't mistake this as unsupportive or even unhappy. I'm actually quite glad there seems to be hope for you accepting your father's death as well as finding...partnership. I am still quite concerned how sporadic this all is."
I nearly stood from the table when I pushed myself back. It was like everyone was keeping me on a rope and scared every time I pulled that it my snap. Kaylee, Nicky, Linda, dancing around the elephant in the room like it wasn't me. "These are rich words coming from you. You've known me just about all my life and know I wasn't always like this. Do you believe I can't even trust my own feelings after all this time? That even if it was sporadic wouldn't it be about time to be. Did you expect me to never see progress?" She was right, I didn't expect her to be in favor but neither did I think she would profit from my grief.
"You have been unwell for so long, decisions like this are alarming. It could trigger other episodes as a result and you are no longer in controlled environments. You can't be breaking down at work or lashing out on people. And you certainly can't damage this young woman. Relationships come with loyalty and honesty, vulnerability, Janine, and you lack a severe empathy and understanding of that."
"No!" I placed my hands over my ears, feeling my hair scrunched between my fingernails. I had to calm my breathing and find my focus otherwise I'd just be proving her right. I eased the tension on my scalp and drug my hands down the sides of my face. "These are all fucking things you and everybody else has been telling me. You're fucked in the head, Jane. Take your pills, Jane. You don't think I've been trying to find a way around my impulses and emotions because I care so deeply for someone else's?" I was hurting. My family had disintegrated right in front of me for what felt like the umpteenth time. But here was Linda for the first, doubting and turning on me.
I was already standing so I just decided to leave. Too many of my meetups were ending in this way—unfinished, words that were said that should've have been, and words that were left unspoken when then shouldn't have. It was all terribly confusing and tugging. I didn't want to succumb to be victim but I had tried, tried so damn hard for so damn long and I was seeing what everyone had been pulling out of me—just a glimpse— as I was beginning to hold on to that, they had let go.
"I believe it's best I start driving up to the city and do those home visits, maybe I can meet Florence as well."
I shoved my chair, shaking my head as I walked away to cool off my heating face. I could cry, I could scream, I could laugh.
___
It was the second option I resulted to. My tears poured as did the rain that won against the sun. The worst of Washington was bellowing into the end of September and it was birthing something cold and gloomy.
I was able to catch the slightest glimpse of myself in the rear mirror and regretted it. I was red and puffy and the sides of my hair had slipped from the already have attempted bun at my nape. The closer I neared to the house the more I felt choked. My optimism had puddled and I was fighting an urge for release.
If I was crazy, truly the crazy people had described me to be, I would press the gas as hard as it goes. Or do me one better and find a woman, any one, and ram all of my anger onto her body. I could drink till my liver blackened or destroy my father's home for the second time. Then would I be what everyone expected? Cruel and ugly—damaged. Because I could not be, even if I tried, to be the Jane of love and forgiveness.
It was so fucking hard realizing I felt like I had run into another dead end. I felt full in the beginning, not long after making love to Florence last night, but now I felt depleted and sorry for myself for the first time ever.
I decided then I didn't want to cry anymore. I wiped my eyes despite that not completely stopping the tears and tried to breathe. As much as I wanted to I couldn't be erratic. The very least I could do was get back to the loft, what happened after that was not of the matter.
My driving slowed to an appropriate speed per the demand of the pouring sky. I could barely see a few feet in front of me and grew increasingly worried I had yet to receive a call from Florence and I had no idea Harper's number.
Being nearer to the blue house I decided it was best to wait if it got lighter before I sought finding her. At least there I knew she was safe and I could use the spare time to pull myself together.
The car sludged onto the gravel as I pulled it into the shed. The silence of the rain finally stopping made the world feel still again. I sat there till the the car mad an uncomfortable noise, briefly closing my eyes, before getting out to face the storm once more.
Taking off my overcoat was my best bet against it as I hovered it over my head and did my best to run inside. The wetness had mixed with the rest of the heat and made it terribly humid and mucky outside. By the time my back rested upon the door I was a sweating, panting mess.
"You're back!" Florence appeared from behind the staircase that overlooked the small foyer. Her little legs running down the stairs quite fast, the scarf she had draped over her head starting to unfold.
I stayed still as she approached. Glad she was here and safe but partially upset the moment to myself had passed. It was nonetheless a small fire engined within me to see her crooked smile as she rose a bit on her toes to give me a timid kiss on the jaw.
I managed to smile down at her while adjusting her scarf. "Just finished praying, I see." She nodded and blushed some. "I hope I was included somewhere in there." I was half-joking but I think something in me could use the external help. It was the only thing I haven't tried.
She took the jacket from me, holding it at a distance from its wetness. "Always," she went off to hang it somewhere while I trailed lazily behind. The house looked new again with how empty it was. There was an echo and somehow seemed smaller now that there weren't paintings and books and him in it.
Florence appeared again without the jacket or the scarf, making her way to the couch and folding her legs beneath her.
"How'd you get in?" I sat down next to her and began to take off my shoes.
She pointed, "the window actually. I thought you would beat me back, I should've called."
One shoe slipped off. "Yeah you should've." Though I wasn't actually upset, I didn't have it in me to debrief what had just happened. There was no point, the meeting hadn't been nearly as productive as I hoped it to be. The strain of conversation was wearing on me the moment I realized I wasn't alone.
She recoiled and I instantly regretted the cold response. I reached out and she reached back, "we don't need to talk about it." She assured with a squeeze and I was instantly more grateful to her than I've ever been.
I leaned back to stretch out my feet, my legs being just long enough to rest on Florence's lap she didn't oblige to move. "What about you, any luck?"
Staring ahead she shrugged her shoulders. "We're still friends but she doesn't agree with a lot of my decisions so it's still an awkward place."
I blinked, nearly surprised this was the first time I noticed it. "We're too alike."
"Why do you say that?" She looked over with squinted eyes.
Scoffing, I adjusted myself to be sitting up more. "Neither of us can seem to make the people around us happy. We're like forest fires." My words just weren't coming out right and if at least one of us had a hopeful mood it was now dampened. I inwardly cursed myself and made an attempt to move closer.
"No, no it's true." She was staring at nothing in particular when she said it, "I mean," she swallowed, "neither of us is exactly innocent, also. Despite the shitty hand we've been dealt we prevail. Right? And maybe that's what drew us together." She mumbled the last part, but the house was quiet and empty and she wasn't sitting too far away anymore to where I couldn't've heard it.
I thought for awhile on her words since mine weren't coming. We were the reflection the other needed to see and perhaps that's why so much in the beginning we fought against it. I let my hand slip into hers and too found something—nothing in particular to stare at.
There was a gnawing need for a cigarette and martini right now but I tried to let this moment be enough. Let her be enough. And maybe I should try the praying to God thing, too.
*
This is Florence's story but I've enjoyed writing it from Jane's perspective ☺️ It's been such a wild ride. Thank you all for hanging with me. My new goal is to update every month, inshallah (God willing) I can deliver. Xo, L.