“Can I get one of those?”
Janice’s voice came to Carla from behind as she handed a lit sparkler to Erica’s son, Victor. He grinned and bounded off after his brother, Denny, who was holding his sparkler high in the air. Carla smiled after them and straightened, turning her attention to her next customer, Janice.
“Sure.” Carla pulled a sparkler from the box on the folding table. “But you have to promise to keep it away from your eyes and you can’t put it close to your skin or anyone else’s.”
“Gosh, I don’t know, then.” She slid her hand into her white cotton shorts as the side of her mouth lifted in the playful grin that now made Carla’s insides melt. Her eyes were already sparkling, making her request for one she could hold in her hand pointless. Their color was set off by her patriotic blue halter top covered in small white stars, appropriate wear for the Fourth of July festivities. Her face and shoulders were newly sun-kissed and slightly red. Her hair was in a ponytail which Carla understood due to the heavy heat, but she couldn’t help but imagine reaching up to pull it free from the bind so the heavy waves could fall around her face.
It was a longing Carla had endured throughout the day as she’d spotted her off and on. She’d mostly seen her with Maurine, which Carla had been glad to see, considering how little time they’d spent together lately. Maurine, Carla knew all too well, had distanced herself from Janice for the majority of Carla’s stay, even though the person she’d truly been upset with was Carla. But that was Maurine. She always reacted first and thought later. And though she was insecure at times and had a stubborn streak a mile long, when it came right down to it, she’d readily lay her life on the line for those she loved. Carla loved her for that. And she suspected Janice did too.
“Them’s the rules, I’m afraid,” Carla said. She held the sparkler up, waiting for her to decide.
Janice shook her head. “I better not, then.” She motioned toward Val. “He might want one.”
“Yeah,” Carla said, eyeing him. “But he’s a little busy right now.” They watched Val as he sat feeding Magpie spoonfuls of soupy homemade ice cream. Magpie waited patiently, tail sweeping the ground, as Val concentrated on keeping the ice cream in the spoon as he aimed it toward his furry friend. He didn’t seem to be doing it quickly enough for Magpie, though. The dog drooled and hurriedly attacked the spoon before Val even had it halfway to him. Val fussed at him, but Magpie paid him no mind, cleaning what was dropped on the ground and on Val’s knee as he waited for another bite.
“Everyone seems to have liked your banana ice cream,” Janice said. “Even the dog.”
“Thanks, that makes me feel so good.”
“Well, if it means anything, I liked it. I thought it was very good. Better than what I buy at the store.”
Carla smirked. “It should be. It’s got enough salt and sugar in it to kill an elephant.”
Janice chuckled. “So, that’s your secret.”
“Not my secret. Great-uncle Lloyd’s. Apparently, salt and sugar intake weren’t things they concerned themselves with in his day.”
Val shrieked with glee as Magpie knocked the empty bowl from his hand, cleaned it, and then started in on cleaning his bare chest and chin. Carla picked up the bowl, took the spoon from Val, and smacked his behind playfully as he took off to go wash up as she’d instructed. She tossed the bowl and spoon in the trash and got rid of the stickiness by rubbing her hands together. She smoothed down her white T-shirt with a faded American flag on the front and her khaki shorts, pleased they, too, were void of ice cream stains.
“They knew a good thing when they had it,” Janice said. “They didn’t worry about the rest. That’s probably something we should all do a little more.” She was looking out across the lawn where the grill Rick was manning still smoked with cooking burgers and hotdogs and kids ran and giggled while the adults lounged in chairs as they ate and chatted.
Carla removed her sunglasses, folded them closed and slid them into the collar of her shirt. The sun was finally turning in after a long, hot day of celebration and the nightly festivities were soon to begin. Rick and Cole already had the fireworks ready to go for everyone’s immediate, personal entertainment, and the church just down the road would provide the larger, more professional fireworks for everyone when they began their show.
Janice, when it came to Carla, had been MIA, and Carla still wasn’t positive, but she’d been wondering if she’d been purposely avoiding her.
She’d been unusually quiet the past few days despite their evening talks, which were still as thoughtful and lighthearted as they’d always been during Carla’s stay. And when they weren’t talking, they were sitting together on the couch, watching a movie, sharing a bowl of popcorn, their hands sometimes suspiciously colliding, causing quick laughs and quiet apologies. Of course for Carla, they caused so much more. Neither of them took it further, however. They just settled in closer, bodies pressed together as if neither wanted to ever separate.
That closeness had developed into a comforting familiarity. They had become intuitive, knowing what the other preferred, needed, or often times even felt, resulting in a competition of generosity. They did for each other, both happy and eager to give and help where the other was concerned. Carla couldn’t ever remember feeling so well known and cared for and she was feeling so content, her longing to return home had lessened, almost to where she avoided thinking about having to return when the time came.
“Was there a deeper meaning to that statement?” Carla asked, once again pushing the thought of leaving from her mind.
Janice looked at her curiously but didn’t answer.
“You sounded sad and then you got all quiet on me.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
Carla shook her head. “There’s something about that answer that I still don’t believe, regardless of how many times you say it. I know you pretty well now, Janice. You don’t seem to say things that profound without having given it a lot of thought.”
“Maybe you’re reading into things that aren’t there. Or maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”
Carla sensed she’d taken offense. That, too, made her wonder. She knew something happened the night they’d walked in the rain, bits and pieces had come to her and the eroticism that had accompanied those pieces had made it difficult for her to believe they’d really occurred. But she hadn’t dreamt them, and they felt way too real to have come from her imagination. Something had definitely happened, and those sporadic seconds of recall suggested that she’d finally voiced her feelings to Janice and Janice hadn’t exactly run away. Carla wasn’t certain, though she’d thought about that evening time and again, hoping to remember, but she had the feeling that Janice may have confessed something of her own.
Janice’s behavior the two days following had fed Carla’s suspicion. She had been quieter, more introspective. She hadn’t been distant though. Just more…serious. Her smile seemed shy and she seemed to be very conscious of their proximity. When they were close or when they came into contact, she seemed nervous, and even a little jumpy. As if touching Carla were equivalent to touching a hot pan.