Authors: Jaime Clevenger
Kelsey sighed. “Well, you know what you’re getting for Christmas.”
“She needs a new omelet pan too,” Denise said. She winked at Barb.
“I won’t need a new pan after you move in,” Barb countered. She waved a stalk of celery at Denise. “Not only will you bring all of your kitchen gadgets, you’ll cook for me too. I’ll be a kept woman.”
“Well kept,” Denise added.
Denise and Barb’s laughter warmed the kitchen. Kelsey leaned against the counter watching them.
Barb hugged Denise and said, “I spotted the lavender. For the balcony?”
Denise nodded.
“It’s perfect,” Barb said.
They were perfect for each other, Kelsey thought. And she was tired of being the third wheel. She picked up her phone and scrolled until she found Joy’s number. She stared at the number. As much as she wanted to call her, she couldn’t ask a potential client out on a date. It crossed too many lines.
Joy rolled over and looked at the bedside clock—her old clock. It was after ten. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept past seven. They’d left the club at midnight, but Vanessa had kept her awake until three. She stretched on the bed, feeling the pricks of sore leg muscles that she couldn’t blame on yesterday’s swim.
Vanessa peeked into the room. “Good. You’re awake.”
Joy wondered how long she had claim to the room before Tina would be knocking down the door. When they’d left the club, Tina had made it very clear exactly how pissed she was that Vanessa was letting “an ex” sleep in their room. Joy didn’t try to argue. She was supposed to be sleeping on the sofa in the living room.
“I think I smell French toast.”
“I want you back.”
Joy smiled. “Your French toast might be enough incentive. But I think I’d have to fight off Tina and I’m not sure I’d win.”
Vanessa shook her head. “T thinks we’re serious but we aren’t. I’m using her to get over you. And to help pay the rent.”
“Tina is helping you get over me? What does that say about me?” Joy laughed to try and lighten the mood, but Vanessa’s drawn face made her stop short. “I can’t move back. I’m stuck in Raceda for at least six months. Maybe longer. I don’t want you waiting for me.”
“We could do long distance and still keep things open.” Vanessa sat down on the bed next to Joy.
Joy sighed. “Long distance is hard. I’ve done it before and it didn’t end well.”
“Maybe you weren’t trying hard enough,” Vanessa countered. After a long pause, Vanessa said, “I know this isn’t saying much, but you are so much nicer to have in bed than T.”
“You’re right. That isn’t saying much.”
Vanessa turned on her side and stared up at Joy. “I want you back. Give me one reason why we shouldn’t be in an open relationship again.”
Joy wondered if the fact that she didn’t have a reason
not
to date Vanessa was a good enough reason to date her. But she
did
have reasons to date her, she countered silently. She was lonely. And Vanessa had always been good company. That hadn’t changed.
“Even if we
are
in an open relationship, you can tell me to stop dating T.”
“I’m not going to tell you who to date.” Joy took Vanessa’s hand. She kissed her palm and then placed Vanessa’s hand on her chest. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t have broken up. I’ve missed you.”
“So let’s pretend we never did.” Vanessa held Joy’s gaze for a long moment and then leaned over the pillow to kiss her cheek. “You drive down one weekend a month and I’ll drive up one weekend. We still text every day so that won’t be any different. And the same rules apply as last time—we tell each other about any competition. And I tell you exactly who you can date.”
“Since when is that one of the rules?” Joy laughed. She immediately thought of Kelsey West. The chances that she’d have to tell Vanessa anything about Kelsey were slim. But if it came up…
“Everything’s open. But I get you when I want you.” Vanessa clasped Joy’s hand. “And you have to promise to tell me about any girls in BF Nowhere. At least before anything gets serious.”
“You told me that you liked open relationships because you could love more than one person.” Joy paused. “Do you really believe that? Or are we only waiting…”
“Until someone serious comes along?” Vanessa sighed. “In theory I believe it. But maybe part of me
is
waiting. Waiting for someone who tells me they can’t live without me. Someone who asks me to wear a ring. Someone who wants to tie me down.” Vanessa looked over her shoulder at the leathers strapped to the headboard and grinned. “And who likes to be tied down.”
Vanessa continued, “Marriage is crap but I do like diamonds. What do you think—wouldn’t a fat rock look good there?” She stretched out her hand, fingers wiggling. “I’d probably last a month married. Maybe. Then I’d be checking out the club scene again.” She was quiet for a minute and then stood up. She went to the closet and pulled out a bathrobe. “Which is why you and I are perfect. We aren’t the marrying type.” She glanced back at Joy. “You don’t have to get dressed. I like to see you naked. But those lovely nipples are gonna get cold. I’ve had to turn the heat off in the rest of the apartment.”
Joy slipped into the robe while Vanessa watched. She smiled approvingly and came over to tie the knot. Vanessa placed her hand on Joy’s chest. Joy met Vanessa’s lips.
“I don’t like the thought of sharing you,” Vanessa said. She placed her fingertip on Joy’s lips. “Don’t you dare fall in love with someone better looking than me.”
“Not possible.” Joy laughed again. She grabbed Vanessa around the waist. They wrestled until their lips met again. This time their kiss was long and deep.
Joy unlocked the front door, turned off the alarm, started the coffee and headed up to the office. The usual Monday morning routine. After the weekend with Vanessa, she couldn’t help overanalyzing everything about her usual routine. Even with the bank loan pending, it was tempting to consider simply walking away from everything. She hung up her jacket and set her keys on the desk and then stared out the window.
As soon as the day’s appointments began, all the what-ifs that piled one on top of the other would slip away. Helen would page her with the first morning patient, and in the meantime she had a half hour for paperwork and emails. But she didn’t turn on the computer. Instead she pulled out the photo album she’d brought and then eyed the wall of pictures. The office needed a fresh coat of paint and before she could seriously think of selling the place, she had to clear out her father’s things. She decided the old snapshots could go first.
Most of the pictures she knew well. She carefully untacked each photo but didn’t stop to consider how anything fit into the timeline of Sam Henderson’s life or if some pictures were worth saving. Baby shots of Terrence were interspersed with pictures of a half-day sailing trip the family had taken shortly after her college graduation. Her baby picture followed several shots of Terrence from a Halloween parade where he’d dressed up as a dentist.
She paused on one image. Her father’s Buick was parked inside a redwood tree. For years now they’d stopped allowing vehicles to drive through the tunnel that had been cut in the tree. This picture was a time capsule all on its own. Her mom was perched on the car’s hood, sunglasses on and hair pulled back with a scarf as if she were right out of Hollywood. Terrence and Joy were standing next to their dad. He had one arm draped over each kid’s shoulders. Her mom and dad were gazing at each other as if no one else was around. Both had the hint of a smile on their lips. Unlike most of the other pictures, no one was missing in this one. A passerby must have offered to take the photo.
She couldn’t tell how old she was, but she guessed she was in fifth or sixth grade. She didn’t have braces yet and Terrence was her same height. He was fifteen months younger and it wasn’t until he hit his teenage growth spurt that he’d shot above Joy. Terrence had always seemed to be a mini-facsimile of Sam Henderson. They shared the same dimples and the same squint. Joy smiled as she realized they had the same bushy eyebrows as well. But it wasn’t just the eyebrows. Terrence had simply sprouted off Sam Henderson while Joy was clearly a product of both sets of genes. Her skin was a lighter shade of brown than her dad’s, but they shared the same curly hair. Her smile matched her mom’s. In the picture, she even had the same head tilt as her mom. And the same sunglasses.
As early as kindergarten and maybe before then, she’d been aware of how different her mom’s pink skin looked from her brown skin. Her mom had stood with her in front of a mirror and pointed out how similar their eyebrows were, how they had the same chin, and the same shade of amber brown eyes—to her mom, this was proof that they looked alike. Joy didn’t try to explain what she saw in the mirror. The reflection was always quiet.
Joy flipped the photo over to find the date. There was no date. Instead, she found her father’s neatly printed words: “All the reasons I need.”
The tears flowed down her cheeks. She mopped them with the back of her hand and then choked back more tears. She held the picture as she sank down in her father’s chair. She couldn’t tuck the picture under the cellophane sleeve in the photo album now.
When she’d finally stopped the tears, she read the words again. “All the reasons,” she repeated. “For what, Dad?” To work six days a week? To never take a real vacation? To keep your mouth shut and your head down? She flipped the picture over and stared at his smile.
Finally she found a piece of tape and fastened the photo to the corner of the computer screen. She’d pick up a frame the next time she was at the drugstore. The nearly empty picture wall was hard to look at now. Thumbtacks left dots that needed to be filled, but the patchwork pattern of sun-bleached spots between the photos was even more motivation to paint the office. She’d decided on a bright orange for at least one wall because it was her father’s favorite color.
The loan paperwork had arrived on Friday. All that was left to do was sign off on everything. She eyed the photo taped to the computer again. She’d spent the better part of the drive home to Raceda thinking about her father. The florist thought she’d forgotten it was Sunday and had clapped her hands together and unlocked the door to let Joy in at closing time to pick up the flowers. Joy promised she wouldn’t be late again and the woman had patted her shoulder and said, “Of course not.”
Then Joy stayed late at the cemetery asking questions that only the wind answered. She wondered if Raceda had felt like home. If her dad ever truly belonged. Joy would never have asked him if he’d been standing in front of her, but now she wondered if he’d ever been really happy. He had everything he needed but was that enough? He laughed a lot. But maybe that was an act that he’d kept up for everyone else. She knew his transition from the Bay Area to Raceda couldn’t have been smooth. A black optometrist in a nearly entirely white community had to have a reason for toughing it out. Maybe he didn’t think Irene would ever leave.
Raceda was where Sam Henderson had met Irene. He had literally run in to her coming out of a coffee shop. The Moonstone Café. Apparently the name had stuck with him. Her mom had told Joy the story of their meeting enough times that she knew it by heart. Dr. Samuel Henderson, the newly licensed optometrist, was en route to a job interview in Portland. But, as her mom was fond of saying, he never made it to Portland. They’d both tried to pull into the same parking place and two broken headlights were the result. They exchanged insurance information. Her dad had, as her mom described it, practically fallen over himself trying to apologize. He was certain it was his fault while she’d argued it was hers.
In the end, she let him buy her lunch. At the time, a young single white woman was making a statement simply sitting down at a lunch table with a young black man. She never mentioned this part of the story however—not when she told the story to Joy anyway. All she said was that she didn’t know if there was anyone else in the café that day. The only person she remembered looking at was Samuel. Her Samuel.
The ring of the office phone was jolting. Joy picked up, expecting Helen’s voice. She glanced at her watch. “Hey, Helen. I’ll be right down.”
“Um, no, Dr. Henderson, it’s me—Kelsey.” She paused a moment before adding, “Helen patched me through to your office line so I could leave a message. I don’t need to interrupt your morning.”
“It’s fine. You’re not interrupting. My first appointment isn’t here yet.” Joy stood up. She straightened the stack of charts on her desk and repositioned the stapler as she spoke. “And you don’t have to call me Dr. Henderson. Joy is fine.”
“Good. First names are easier. Especially if we are going to be working together.”
“I take it Denise already told you.”
There was a moment’s hesitation before Kelsey said, “I think she’s more excited about it than you are.”
“I’m realistic. There’s a lot of upgrades I need to make to this place and the software system is only one of them.”
“Well, I don’t think you are going to regret this upgrade. From what Denise has said, you are already seeing increased productivity over the past month. And Moonstone will be even more productive with everything computerized.”
Joy wondered how much Denise had told Kelsey. “Apparently Denise has told you a lot.”
“My mom and Denise are close. I get all the news on Moonstone Optometry over dinner. She was over this weekend and mentioned that the loan went through…and, well, I hope I’m not getting Denise in any trouble.”
The nervous edge in Kelsey’s voice was unmistakable. Joy hadn’t noticed it before but now she was certain her sales agent was stumbling over her words. Kelsey had begun to discuss the software system options and then went on to something about modifications that they might need. Joy murmured an agreement but her thoughts spun back to Denise. If Denise and Kelsey’s mom were close friends, Denise probably knew a lot more about Kelsey. She wondered if Denise would be suspicious if she asked her a few questions.
“Anyway, you can let me know about those other things later. You don’t need to decide that now.”