To the woman who, she now wholeheartedly believed, loved her.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Janice set the large gift box she was carrying on the table in front of Carla. She tried, but she couldn’t hold back the smile that was intent on spreading across her face. The last two weeks had somehow even surpassed what they’d shared in North Carolina. Their time together in Carla’s home and when they managed to force themselves out of the bed to go out, had been filled with emotion, passion, and discovery. Janice had shared things with Carla that she’d never shared with anyone else. She told her how she felt, how she’d struggled with her attraction to her, caught up in both fear and overwhelming excitement. She’d done her best to answer the questions Carla had asked again, this time while Janice was curled up in her arms. She’d told her about her avid interest in Arizona and how she’d been reading about it for months, until her curiosity and interest had evolved into wanting to experience it firsthand. But she’d convinced herself it was just a dream knowing she would most likely love Arizona, based on what she’d seen and learned, and the mere possibility of that had consumed her with guilt. How could she leave the place that had always been her home? How could she leave Maurine and her other loved ones?
“What’s this?” Carla’s eyes were that deeper shade of gold that Janice now knew to be reticent of sleep. She was completely clueless to her beauty as she sat running her hand through her hair which was mussed from sleep and other certain activities. Activities that had caused Janice to run her hands through her hair, tangling and tugging, pleading and insisting. Her smile grew as she thought about yet another shared night of unbridled passion. Carla sitting there looking so sweet in her confusion, wearing nothing but her gray cotton sleep bra and matching shorts had Janice suddenly eager for a repeat of the night before.
How long will we be able to wait today? An hour? Possibly two, before we have to touch each other again? Two would be a record.
“A present,” Janice said. “I thought for sure the wrapping and the big red bow would be a dead giveaway.” She settled in across from her and rested her chin in her hand.
Carla gave her a look.
God, how I love her. Will it always be this good?
She thought about the future, near and far, and she was left feeling calm and assured, knowing that their love would grow and deepen. She imagined them waking next to each other and then coming home to each other at night. Nothing in the world sounded better and she knew Carla felt the same. She hadn’t been able to hide her excitement when Janice had told her she’d resigned from her job, ready to step out into the world to see where the road took her. And Carla had brought up the future and their being together a few times since then, and Janice could tell she was testing the water. Janice had wanted to jump on her and bounce up and down and proudly declare that she wanted to be with her more than anything, but she’d held back, preferring to wait for the right moment. She had hopes that the right moment would present itself today. Maybe even very soon.
“I considered breakfast to be a gift,” Carla said. “I didn’t expect this.”
“It’s your birthday, Carla, and our last day together before you go back to work. So, breakfast was nothing. The gifts, this being one of them, will be plentiful and given throughout the day.”
Carla raised her eyebrows.
“Don’t argue with me, Sims. This is what I want to do to celebrate your birthday. I want to spoil you, show you how much I cherish you. Especially since this expert in literature seems to have trouble expressing her feelings through words alone.”
“You’re getting better. You’re just not used to doing it, so it might take some time. And I told you to stop feeling so guilty about keeping everything inside. You were experiencing a lot while I was there, and most of it for the first time.”
“Even so.” She sighed. “Giving, like this, is something I know I’m good at.”
“You give me plenty,” Carla said. “More than enough.”
“Will you just open the gift? You don’t know how difficult it’s been keeping it from you.”
Carla tore away the paper and lifted the lid off the box. “No way.” She seemed completely surprised, completely taken aback. “This—it’s—I can’t believe it. You’re giving this to me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Carla, yes, I’m sure. I remember your reaction when you first saw it and from that moment on it became yours. I thought of you every second I spent finishing it, especially when you were right there, in the room next to me as I worked on it. It was made for you. I want you to have it.”
Carla held the glossy, intricately painted chess pieces up and examined them, her face lit up in excitement and awe. “So, this was what was in that box that came soon after you arrived? The one you raced to the door for and wouldn’t let me anywhere near? Even though it had my name and address on it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m glad you stayed,” she said. “To intercept the box and give me the gift yourself.”
She finally looked at Janice and appeared to be so moved she was on the verge of tears.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I don’t know what else to say. I’m overwhelmed.”
“Don’t say anything. I’m content just sitting here watching you, basking in your happiness.”
Carla rose and came to her side. She knelt and kissed her. “It’s the best, most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. I can’t even imagine you giving me any more.”
“Well, whether you can imagine it or not, it’s happening.” She stood alongside her and led her by the hand to the living room. “Sit.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Janice sat next to her and handed her the old shoebox she’d set on the coffee table. “This one isn’t wrapped.”
“Okay.”
“It doesn’t need to be. It represents something more than a birthday gift.” She nodded toward the box, encouraging her to open it.
Carla removed the lid. “What is it?” She looked at her. “Do these belong to you?”
“They do now.”
Carla picked up photo after photo.
“That’s my great-aunt Gale,” Janice said, pointing. “And that is Liza.”
Carla studied the women closely, picture after picture.
“They were a couple,” she eventually said. “They were in love.”
“Yes,” Janice whispered.
Carla smiled, wistful. “They were beautiful. And they look so happy.”
“They were. But unfortunately, their time together was tragically cut short. Nevertheless, their love lives on.” She reached in the box and held up some of the letters. “You can see a lot in the pictures,” she said. “How close they were, how happy they were. But these tell you how they felt, what they thought, and just how much in love they really were.”
Carla slowly took one and unfolded it. She read quietly. “Oh, my God.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are they all like this?”