B L A I R E
•
The others leave, eventually.
This has been a whole day affair, including a brief respite to walk to the lake and back for air: we listened to the episode; we gossiped; we laughed; we watched a film. Then another. Olga left first, when her dad called and asked if she was going to be home for supper. Cat and Niko left shortly afterwards.
Now it's just me and Sukie. Sukie and me. The two of us, alone in her basement, her body nestled against mine, her legs thrown over my lap. I don't want to move. Don't want to spoil this moment.
"Blaire?" My name is a murmur on her tired breath, her eyes drooping, energy sapped by a long day with us and the baby feeding off her body.
"Mmm?"
"This isn't temporary, is it?"
"What?"
"You and me."
I have to pull away from her a bit to face her properly. "Why would it be temporary?" I ask, aghast at the thought that maybe she's anticipating this curse smiting me. Horror hits, draining my face of blood; I feel myself pale.
"When I have the baby, are you still going to be around?" she asks, her eyes huge as she looks up at me. In an instant, my horror is replaced by crushing relief. "I really like you, so freaking much. Getting to call you my girlfriend is ridiculously exciting"—her cheeks flush; she semi smiles—"but in a few months, I'm going to have a baby, and I don't want you to run away when I do."
"I'm going to be right here, by your side," I say. "Of course I'm not going to run away."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I don't want to tread on your toes, bu—"
"I want you around."
"And I want to stay." I kiss her, one hand on her bump, and laugh when I feel the baby move. She holds me close, deepening the kiss, and I'm gone. I'm hers.
My lips are numb when we part, googly-eyed. Sukie gazes at me and shifts so she's pressed against me, her bump nudging my waist.
"I liked you the moment I saw you," she says.
My heart flutters. "You did?"
She nods, a lazy smile on her lips. "Do you ever see someone for the first time, maybe in a coffee shop, maybe when you're a barista and they're new to town – just an example, of course – and you look at them and all you can think is oh, shit, I want to kiss you so badly."
"I think I know the feeling. Just a smidge." I hold my thumb and forefinger a centimetre apart. "Have you ever fallen in love with someone's voice before you've ever met them, and you don't see how they can be any more magical, and then you meet them at last, and they're everything and more?"
She's staring at me. Eyes wide. Wider than wide.
Oh, no. I dropped the L word.
I didn't mean to drop the L word.
I can fumble or ramble or wait for her to say something. Or I can double down. In for a penny, in for a pound. Mustering a smile, and more calm confidence than I own, I let my hand skim the warm curve of her neck.
"First, your voice. And then you. You make it easy to fall in love with you, Sukie Watanabe."
She kisses me so hard I can't breathe, and then I forget how to breathe, paralysed by her intensity and my rush of adoration.
I love her I love her I love her.
I'm in deep. But, by the looks of things – by the feel of things – so is she. She knows the darkest things about me, the worst slivers of my history, and she's still here. And I am infatuated with her.
"I've fallen in love with you too," she says, hiccupping on the last word when she starts to cry and fans her face. "This is hormone-induced crying, I swear. I'm not this sappy and pathetic."
"I don't think you're sappy and pathetic."
She starts to full on ugly-cry, not that anything about her could ever be ugly, her face all scrunched up, nose wrinkled and running, eyes streaming. It's like I turned a tap and set this off, powerful waterworks that have her gasping for breath until I gather her in my arms and she sobs into my shoulder, soaking through my sleeve.
"It's"—sob—"the"—sob—"baby," she says. I try not to laugh.
"I know, I know. It's okay."
"And I"—sob—"really love you"—sob—"too."
I hold her, swaying her, until the tears subside from sobs to sniffles and she hides her face behind her hands.
"Don't look at me."
"Don't be ridiculous," I say, letting my laugh out this time.
"My face is a mess."
"You think I care?" I try to prise her hands away. "Sukie, you've seen me cry way more, and way worse. And, by the way, I just confessed my love for you. I'm not going to run away at the sight of a snotty nose and red eyes."
She lowers her hands. Her cheeks are wet and blotchy red, her hair damp where she's wiped her tears into it, a pinkness to her eyes. So I kiss her, my nose pressing into her damp cheek, and I hold her like I'm never going to let go.
*
The time does come, eventually, when I can't stop yawning and it's time to go home. She has an early start in the morning, and I don't have a change of clothes, else I might have been tempted to stay. But it's time to go, time to call Elizabeth.
"Don't. It's late. I'll drive you," Sukie says.
"No, don't worry, it's fine. Elizabeth said she'll come out."
"She probably didn't think you'd stay here until ten."
"She's a night owl."
Sukie pushes my phone away and wraps a cardigan around herself and says, "Get in. I'm driving. Might as well eke out every minute I can."
"Okay, if you insist." I roll my eyes and get into the passenger seat, in the car that smells like her.
"I insist. It's literally a two-minute drive, anyway. And five minutes on the doorstep." She grins, flicking on the high beams when we leave town behind and crawl up that winding road to Elizabeth's.
I wish the journey was longer. All too soon, I spot Taighmartin, and it's time to go. Sukie kills the engine and gets out after me, following me to the doorstep.
I don't open the door. We stand there together, nothing else needed except this moment under the moonlight, a pale beam illuminating her glowing cheeks. My fingers find hers, lacing together. I look down at our entwined hands and I feel like an overexcited schoolgirl, catching up on all the milestones I missed.
"So. We're official now?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Seeing as you're my official girlfriend," I say, "would you like to go on a proper date? Not book club, or snatched moments while you're at work. Like, a real date. Just you and me."
"I'd like that very much."
"Unfortunately, the only hot spots I know are the café and the lake."
She grins and says, "I happen to know that there's supposed to be an incredible sunrise on Saturday morning. Reckon you can do an early start?"
For Sukie? Of course.
"How early is early?"
She pulls a face. "Five?"
"Shit. Are you sure that's early and not just really late?"
"In which case, our date starts at midnight on Friday night and ends with sunset." She tugs my hands, pulling me closer. "Though I'll be honest, I can't stay up past eleven these days. Baby likes to be up early."
"Then five a.m. it is, as disgusting as that sounds."
"It's beautiful at the lake."
"I'll be there. Five o'clock on Saturday morning."
"I'm sure I'll see you before then."
"Oh, definitely." I grin. "I'll be in the café every day until then. But those are just mini, unofficial, practice dates."
"Ah, okay. Sure. Totally." Her beam is brighter than the moon, which comes out from behind a cloud to shine on us.
One more kiss.
Okay, and another. That's the last one.
And then she's gone, and I take another couple of minutes to compose myself before I go into the house.
By the time I drop onto the sofa, less than five minutes after she left, I already have a new text from Sukie – she's in bed, duvet snuggled up to her chin.
"I was beginning to wonder if you were coming home tonight," Elizabeth says. I look up at the sound of her voice, as she comes into the sitting room. The empty space on the mantelpiece has been filled with a bright, explosive bunch of flowers.
"I nearly didn't, I have to say."
"Had a good day?"
"Mmm. Amazing." I pull my feet up to make space for her. She sinks onto the soft cushion next to me, spreading a blanket over her lap.
"You listened to the podcast?"
"Yeah. It was really good. You were great." I find another blanket and wrap it around me, sinking deeper into the sofa. "It felt right."
"It felt like closure."
"It did. It really did."
"Maybe it's a sign that it's time to move on," she says, taking off her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose. "I don't know. I've been thinking. Maybe you and I could find somewhere new."
She meets my eye. I look back, holding her gaze, trying to arrange my thoughts. Now, of all times? Now, when I want to stay more than ever?
"I don't think so," I say, my head full of Sukie. "I want to stay."
Elizabeth smiles; it reaches her eyes. She glances at the window and says, "She brought you back, didn't she?"
"Mmhmm."
"She likes you too, huh?"
I must look surprised, because she chuckles.
"I heard you get home a good five minutes before you came inside," she says. I was about to go out and check if it really was you, and I saw you out the window."
"Oh." I blush, hard. She must have got an eyeful. "Sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for." She squeezes my hand. "You two are a beautiful couple. I'm so proud of you, Blaire. I know it's been hard for you, this transition. But you've made it work, far better than I ever thought you might."
"We both have," I say, squeezing back. She nods, lips pressed together.
"Sukie is such a sweet young woman. So bright. There's a lot of talent there."
"She's incredible." I don't have the vocabulary to sum up Sukie; I'm limited to adjectives that feel flat and impersonal when she is the sun, a shooting star lighting up the night sky, a beacon in the dark. My heavy head falls against the cushion, exhaling like a balloon letting out air. "I love her so much."
"I'm so happy to see you so happy," Elizabeth says. She gets up, folding the blanket. "I stayed up to make sure you got back okay, but I really do need to get to bed. I'm exhausted."
"Me too." I stand, keeping the blanket around my shoulders. My room gets cold. I could do with extra warmth.
"Sweet dreams, Blaire," she says as she hugs me. "I hope Sukie knows how special you are."
*