Authors: Carmella Jones
Poor Alex. How would she feel? Would she think that Dana just used her to satisfy her own curiosity and leave? Dana realized Alex was probably worried about her whereabouts, and if she had made it home okay. After exiting the shower and drying off, she put on some sweatpants and a hoodie. Feeling slightly renewed, she decided to take Spark for a walk. The dog needed some exercise and socialization. Dana also needed to get some fresh air and try to deal with her feelings. Grabbing the dog's leash, she led her out to her car and they drove to the park. Dana got out of the car and Spark was excitedly swishing her tail, ready to go exploring. She led Dana down the path and paused periodically to sniff the air. She seemed to be trailing something. Dana thought she probably scented a squirrel or bird. Spark woofed and took off around a bend, almost pulling Dana behind her.
To her shock, she saw what Spark was smelling. It was Bubbles, also excitedly wagging her tail, happy to see both her new friends. Alex was sitting on a bench eating an apple and staring off into the clouds, absentmindedly. She didn't hear Dana approach the bench, and she jumped a bit when Bubbles woofed in a greeting. She looked up at Dana and smiled weakly. Dana stood a little closer to her and then asked, “Hi. Do you mind if I sit down for a moment? My dog really seems to want to get to know yours.”
“Dana. I didn't expect to see you again. Of course you can sit down.”
Dana saw the look of mixed emotions on Alex's face. She was still licking her wounds from being left alone like a one-night stand, and partially hopeful as well. “So, can we talk?” Dana asked.
“Of course we can. I think we need to talk.”
Dana sat down beside Alex and looked at her lovingly. She studied her face and her body. She wanted to trace all of her form and commit it to memory in case Alex just told her to go away. “Listen, Alex. I'm sorry about leaving you this morning. I just couldn't come to terms with…this, with us. I've never had someone so understanding and comfortable in my life. I've also never had this kind of an experience with a woman. So I'm sorry that I left you. It was a very cruel thing to do.”
Reaching over, Alex took Dana's hand and interlaced her fingers with her own. She rubbed her thumb along the outside of Dana's hand, hoping to calm her as well. “Dana, I understand you're afraid. I understand that you're still reeling and probably a bit confused as well. I know I was my first time. I thought that I was evil or disgusting, some type of mutant that must be destroyed. I learned, though, that was a part of me I was never getting rid of, nor did I want it to go away. It was me, plain and simple. So, honey, I've been in your situation. I understand if you want to take some time apart and see if this was just a passing phase for you, or if you were only feeling a bit nostalgic for Steve and wanted a warm body for comfort.”
“No. That's not it at all, Alex. Don't you think that for one moment. What I realized, Alex, is that we both equally need each other. I need you to remind me of all the beautiful things there are in life, and I need you, well, because I'm selfish. No other woman in the world is going to snatch a catch like you up, because I had a momentary lapse in judgment by leaving you. So, can we try again, Alex?”
Alex pulled Dana to her in that moment and didn't say a word. She just kissed her passionately while Bubbles and Spark played together beside the park bench. “Of course we can try again. We can try every single day for the rest of our lives as far as I'm concerned. Dana, ever since that day in the vet's office, you have changed my life and given me hope. So yes, I'm claiming you.” Alex took Dana's hand and brought it up to her lips, kissing it tenderly while their fingers were still linked. They sat that way, holding hands on the park bench, until they saw the coming sunset threatening the horizon. When the dusk was illuminated by shades of brilliant reds and oranges, Dana rested her head on Alex's shoulder, softly saying, “I'm never going anywhere again. This is home.”
The Preacher’s Daughter
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Chapter 1
Cassidy pulled a slat of the blinds down and looked listlessly out at the small pool in the motel’s courtyard. A few errant leaves and bugs floated in the water and sunlight glinted on its surface. With a sigh she turned away from the window, she got a beer out of the fridge, and sat down at the room’s small table.
She pulled a pack of Lucky Strikes out of her shirt pocket, put one between her lips and lit it. She toyed idly with the book of matches as she smoked, sorting through too many thoughts and emotions that had been piling up over the previous week.
It felt strange to be back in Mason again after all this time, and truth be told she would just as soon never have set foot here again. Too much of the past dwelt in this town. She had barely come back since the accident and her mother’s death. She had been 16 then, still a child, and had had no choice but to move in with her father in Chicago.
She had come back here to visit a few times, but it proved to be too painful. Everywhere she looked, every street she turned down, held a memory of her mother. It had taken her grandmother’s death to bring her back here again.
It had come as a shock to the whole family. At 73, Ada Bledsoe had still been in good health, spending her days tending the garden she had always so loved outside the old two story house in which Cassidy had spent so much of her childhood.
She tended to her husband as well, who had not aged quite as well as she had. No one had ever doubted that she would outlive him by a matter of years. But the heart attack had claimed her suddenly, without so much as a whisper of warning.
It had been two weeks now since her funeral, and still Cassidy was hesitant to head back to Chicago. She wanted nothing more than to get behind the wheel of her old blue Mustang and put as many miles between her and this town as she possibly could before sundown. She had felt that way every day since she’d first arrived.
But she knew that she couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least. She couldn’t leave things as they stood with Grandpa Paul. With Ada gone, there had been some debate as to who would take over his care. None of Ada’s children wanted the responsibility, despite the fact that the man had raised them as his own after their own father had walked out on them.
In the end, they had moved him out of the old two story house where he and Ada had shared so many years and into the Whispering Oaks nursing home. Cassidy had been outraged, but her hands had been tied. There wasn’t a lot she would be able to do once she returned to Chicago.
And she would have to return soon. Her father would not hold her job at the shop for her forever.
Just a while longer,
she thought.
Just until I’m sure that Grandpa Paul’s settled into the new place okay.
She mashed out her cigarette angrily in the glass ashtray that sat on the table and took a sip of her beer. He deserved better than this, but damned if she knew what to do about it.
She glanced at the red numbers of the clock on the nightstand. 6:15. With a sigh she got up, grabbed her beaten copy of T.S. Eliot poems, and stepped outside into the reluctantly fading Texas heat. After locking the door of her room she got into the Mustang, set the book on the passenger seat, and reached for her seatbelt.
She cursed as it burned her, too hot to touch after sitting beneath the unrelenting sun all afternoon. That was one thing she wouldn’t miss when she returned home. She leaned over and reached into the passenger floorboard, retrieving a dingy rag that she usually used when she checked her oil. She used it to protect her fingers as she fastened the seatbelt. She was grateful for the cloth cover on the steering wheel.
She lit a cigarette, put the Mustang into first gear, and turned left out of the motel parking lot toward Whispering Oaks. It had become her routine over the past week to go and read to Grandpa Paul in the evening, after he had taken his supper. The book had been his gift to her on her 15
th
birthday. He had been determined to instill in her his love for poetry and books.
The Mustang’s air conditioning had only just begun to make a dent in the heat by the time she pulled into the Whispering Oaks parking lot. Cassidy put the Mustang into first gear, shut off the engine, and set the emergency brake before getting out and making her way toward the nursing home. She didn’t bother locking the doors. There was no need to in this town.
When she walked through the double doors she was greeted by a wall of cool, air conditioned air, heavy with the distinctive scent that belongs only to those places where the elderly go to die. She was growing uncomfortably accustomed to it. She greeted the nurse at the front desk with a curt nod before heading down the hallway toward room 317, Grandpa Paul’s room.
She stopped just short of it, listening to the voices that drifted out into the hallway. One of the voices was an unending stream of monotone gibberish.
Must be the new roommate,
Cassidy thought. She had forgotten that he was being moved in today. The nurse had mentioned that he wasn’t quite with it. Boy, had that been an understatement. The other two voices were raised slightly. From the sound of it, Cassidy couldn’t decide if they were raised in anger, or if they were simply trying to be heard above the endless drone of Grandpa Paul’s new roommate.
“I’m tellin’ you, I want to go
home
. You have no right to keep me in this place!” Definitely anger then.
“And I’m tellin’
you
, old man, that there’s no way that can happen. Who’s gonna look after you? You damn sure can’t do it yourself.”
I see Lester hasn’t changed a bit,
Cassidy thought with distaste.
She had to tamp down the urge to burst through the door and punch him right in his smug face.
She had never understood how her uncle had wound up so mean spirited. She ground her teeth as she stepped into the room. Grandpa Paul shut his mouth against whatever reply he had been about to make and worked to school his face into a mask of neutrality.
Lester changed expressions effortlessly, a too-wide smile replacing his sneer between one breath and the next.
“Why, Cassidy!” he gushed. “I had no idea you were still in town. What brings you here?” he asked, indicating the cramped room. Cassidy crossed her arms.
“Lester,” she said flatly, ignoring his question. She stared at him for a moment until the false smile slid off his face and he dropped his eyes.
“Cass here comes and reads to me in the evenin’s,” Grandpa Paul interjected. “So if you’ll excuse us.”
Lester threw up his hands in exasperation and stormed out without another word. Cassidy sat down in the chair next to Grandpa Paul’s bed and they sat in silence, listening to his roommate’s continuing litany of nonsense.
“Got a new roommate today,” he said straight faced after a long moment. Cassidy couldn’t hold back the smile that came across her face.
“I hadn’t noticed,” she said with a laugh. “Does he ever quit?”
“Not to my knowledge, no,” he answered dryly. “Name’s Ralph, the nurse says. Seems like a nice enough fella.”
“Jeez.”
They both broke into laughter for a moment. Then Cassidy sobered.
“Listen, Grandpa, about Uncle Lester…”
“Bah. Never mind him,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t want to talk about him. I want to hear The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” He nodded toward the book in her hand.
“Sure thing,” she said with a thin smile. She opened the book and flipped through it until she found the poem. It only took her a moment. The poem was one of her favorites and she had turned to it many times before. Grandpa Paul leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he listened to her read, doing his best to tune out the incessant ramblings from the other side of the small room.
When she was done she closed the book and set it in her lap. Neither of them said anything for a long moment.
“Thank you,” he finally said.
“Anytime,” Cassidy replied. “You gonna be able to get any sleep with him carryin’ on like that?” she asked.
“I guess we’ll see,” Grandpa Paul said with a shrug. “I figure he’s gotta stop eventually.”
“Yeah,” Cassidy agreed. “Listen, I’ll stop by and see you in the mornin’. That donut shop down on the square still open?”
“It is.”
“Great. I’ll bring you some donuts and coffee.”
“That would be good,” he said with a smile.
Chapter 2
The next morning Cassidy woke early and made her way to the donut shop. The bell above the door chimed as she walked in and Mrs. Goodwin poked her head through the doorway that led to the back.
“Why, Cassidy Winters!” she exclaimed when she saw Cassidy. “I almost didn’t recognize you. Let me get a good look at you!” She made her way around the counter, put her hands on Cassidy’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length as she looked her up and down.
“Hi, Mrs. Goodwin,” Cassidy said, enduring the inspection as good naturedly as she could.
Mrs. Goodwin ran a finger through Cassidy’s short, black hair, clicking her tongue in mild disapproval.
“What did you do to your hair? You always had such beautiful hair. It’s a good thing you’ve got such a pretty face or folks’d mistake you for a man! How do you expect to ever find a husband that way?”
Cassidy opened her mouth to say that, being a lesbian, it was very doubtful she’d find a husband regardless of what she did to her hair, but thought better of it. Mrs. Goodwin meant well and there was no sense in opening that particular can of worms right now. She just let her chatter on until she was out of steam.
Mrs. Goodwin rang up half a dozen donuts and two cups of coffee for Cassidy as she talked.
“Well,” she said, more serious now that she was done inspecting Cassidy and giving her rapid-fire dating advice. “Tell me, dear, how are you?”
“Makin’ it, I suppose,” Cassidy said with a shrug. Mrs. Goodwin nodded.
“I was so sorry to hear about your grandmother,” she said sincerely. “She was a great woman.”
“She was,” Cassidy agreed.
“It’s a good thing you’re here now,” Mrs. Goodwin continued. “Nice to know there’s somebody around who’ll look after your granddad. Lord knows those good for nothin’ sons o’ his ain’t gonna do it. No offense, I know they’re your kin and all, but…”
“None taken,” Cassidy said.
Mrs. Goodwin’s words hung heavy over Cassidy as she drove to the nursing home. Who
was
going to take care of him? She had been right, after all. Not one of her three uncles would lift a finger to help him, even though he had raised them, had been a father to them for so long that everyone had all but forgotten that he was actually their step-father.
She did her best to push those thoughts aside as she made her way to his room. She could tell before she even reached the doorway that his roommate was already up from the jabbering that floated into the hallway.
“Hey, Grandpa,” she said as she entered.
“Good mornin’,” he said with a tired smile.
“Good mornin’,” she replied. “He’s at it again, I see.” Grandpa Paul shook his head.
“Never stopped,” he said. Cassidy winced.
“Sorry to hear that,” she said.
“Nothin’ a little coffee can’t fix,” he said, nodding to the cups in her hand.
“If you say so,” she said with a smile. She handed him one of the cups and set the other one on the table. Then she dug a donut out of the bag and handed it to him before getting one for herself. They made small talk while they ate.
The topics remained light, but Cassidy had come to a decision. When she had finished her second donut she stood to go.
“I’ve got some errands to run,” she told him. “But I’ll be back later.”
“Alright,” he replied.
The first thing she did when she left was pick up a newspaper and head back to the motel. It was time to find a job. There was no way that she could walk away. She decided she might as well accept the fact that she was back in Mason for the long haul.
She smoked as she flipped through the help wanted ads, idly flicking her ashes into the ashtray. One ad in particular caught her eye, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up too high. Henderson Auto Repair was looking for a new mechanic. It would be nice to go into a line of work that she already knew. But she had a feeling that old man Henderson would sooner chew glass than hire a woman mechanic.
Still, though,
she thought.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as the old saying goes.
She got into the Mustang and drove out to the edge of town where Henderson Auto Repair was situated. Her tires crunched on the asphalt as she parked in front of the shop. All of the bays were full, she noticed, and there were several cars parked along the side of the building, waiting their turns to be repaired. That was a good sign, she decided. Maybe they hadn’t hired anyone yet.
No one was in the office when she came in. Two beat-up leather couches sat at right angles to one another in the waiting area. She sat down and tried to keep herself occupied with the old magazines that littered the battered coffee table in the middle of the room, but finally her impatience won out.
She stood up and made her way out to the nearest bay, where she could hear the sound of an air ratchet in sporadic bursts.
“Hello?” she ventured.
The sound of the air ratchet stopped and a tousled head poked out from under an old Toyota. Cassidy’s jaw dropped.
“Matt?” She and Matt had been best friends since she had picked a fight with him in fourth grade and they’d been forced to hold hands for the rest of the afternoon. He had been the first one she had come out to. Hell, he was one of the
only
people in this town she had come out to.
“Holy shit,” he said, his grease-smeared face splitting into a wide grin. He rolled the rest of the way out from under the car and wrapped Cassidy in a bear hug.
“How the hell have you been?” he asked as he released her. “Sorry about the grease, by the way,” he said, looking at her now stained clothes.
“Shut up, dork. You know I don’t care,” she said with a laugh.
“Yeah. I know,” he said. He ran a grease smeared hand right down the front of her face.
“Ass,” she said without heat. She punched him in the shoulder before snagging the rag from the pocket of his coveralls.
“So since when did you decide to take up the family business?” she asked as she wiped at her face. “Thought you were gonna go to college, have a career and all that. Hell, you already practically had a full ride in scholarships when I left. What happened?”
“Life, I guess. Got Melody pregnant. Got married,” he said, holding up his left hand to show her the gold band on it. “Had to do somethin’ to support us.”
He shrugged and they both fell silent for a moment. He looked at her grease smeared face and started laughing.
“God, you look ridiculous,” he said.
She threw the greasy rag at him.
“Seriously, though, I hope whatever you need fixed ain’t urgent. I’m backed up for at least a week,” he said with a nod toward the various cars that awaited repairs.
“Actually,” she said, “I’m here about the job.”
“No shit?”
“No shit,” she confirmed.
“Huh,” he said contemplatively. “You actually know what you’re doin’?”
“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve worked in my dad’s shop since I was 16.”
“Fair enough,” he said with a laugh, holding up his hands. “Job’s yours.” Cassidy blinked.
“Just like that?” she asked.
“Why not?” he said.
“Won’t your old man shit bricks when he finds out you hired a woman as a mechanic?” she asked laughingly.
“Nah,” Matt said dismissively. “Well, okay, maybe. But he handed the shop off to me a couple years back. He’s pretty much retired now.”
“Huh,” Cassidy said thoughtfully.
“So, when can you start?”
“I’ll start right now if you want me to,” she said with a shrug.
“That’s the spirit!” Matt said with a lopsided grin. “Ford in the back over there needs a new head gasket. You can start with that.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Cassidy said with a smirk. She set to work and lost track of time. Five o’clock came before she even knew what happened.
“See you tomorrow,” Matt said as he locked up the shop.
“See you tomorrow,” Cassidy replied.
She drove to the motel and let herself into her room. She shed her grease stained clothes, climbed into the shower, and did her best to scrub away the day’s grime, though she knew that there was no way she’d get all of it. She ached all over and the hot water that enveloped her body felt like heaven.
When she had gotten as clean as she thought she could get, she got out of the shower, toweled herself dry, and pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a Black Sabbath tee shirt. She sat down and smoked a cigarette before pulling on her boots and heading out the door. It was a bit earlier than she usually headed to Whispering Oaks. But this time she was on a mission.
She sighed as she approached the room and heard the sound of wordless jabbering. She wondered if he had ever stopped. An even less welcome sound was the sound of Lester’s voice.
“Now, you listen here!” Grandpa Paul was saying angrily. He was unable to finish the thought as he was taken over by a fit of coughing.
“Look, we’ve already been over this. Ain’t nobody gonna come out and tend to you in that old house. And if I –“
He cut off sharply as Cassidy cleared her throat loudly from the doorway.
“Cassidy,” he said blinking in surprise, forcing a smile onto his features. “I didn’t see you there.”
She rolled her eyes and said nothing as she pushed her way past him and unfolded the wheelchair next to her grandfather’s bed.
“Come on,” she said. “We’re goin’ home.”
“Now, just wait a minute! Just what in the hell do you think you’re doin’?” Lester fumed. Ralph’s nonsense droning became louder and more flustered at the anger in Lester’s tone.
Cassidy ignored him. Grandpa Paul made no objection as she lifted him into the wheelchair. It saddened her that he was light enough for her to do so. She knew he had lost weight, but she hadn’t realized until that moment just how small and frail he’d become.
Grandpa Paul quickly regained his composure and the both of them ignored Lester’s shouting as she wheeled him down the hall toward the exit. Cassidy was surprised that no one had come to see what all the commotion was about.
Lester never even paused in his tirade as he followed them out of the building and through the parking lot. When they reached the Mustang Cassidy finally rounded on him.
“Do you ever
shut up?
” she spat at him. And for a moment he did. His jaw hung open as his face flushed a deep red.
“How
dare
you speak to me that way?” he spluttered after a moment.
Cassidy stared at him for a moment before shaking her head and returning her attention to Grandpa Paul, who was deliberately ignoring the exchange with an air of aloof dignity.
“Young lady, you had best not ignore me,” Lester said in a threatening tone. Cassidy paid him no mind as she helped Grandpa Paul into the car. She didn’t bother loading up the wheel chair, which had “Whispering Oaks” spray painted in white stenciled letters across its back. Lester followed her around to the driver’s side.
“Now listen here—“
“No,
you
listen, and listen good,” she interrupted as she whirled to face him again. “I am taking my grandfather home. Now. And there’s not a God damned thing you can do about it.”
She turned her back on him, got into the car, and drove to the white two-story house on the outskirts of town.