Eclipse

Carol didn’t see Therese the following weekend. She spent the entire Saturday with her ex-mother-in-law, going through the items she had thought Harge’s parents might like to have. On Sunday, she visited a couple of acquaintances she hadn’t kept in touch with recently. They had been friends to both her and Harge, and to see them now on her own was a duty she reluctantly fulfilled. The get-together left her doubtful she would ever see them again.

Carol thought of Therese with a heavy heart, vacillating between wanting to see her immediately and abandoning the notion altogether. A week had gone by since Therese had left for Poughkeepsie, and their phone calls had been rather sporadic during this time apart. Therese sounded more herself on the phone, Carol had noticed, and Therese had suggested they get together soon. Still, Carol hesitated, not knowing what to say or if she should propose or even encourage a meeting.

Then, on Tuesday, a letter came. It was a fancy, thick white envelope, the kind used to put greeting cards in. She sat at the kitchen counter to read its contents. The card she pulled out had a poem typed on it. The font looked delightfully old-school, the letters charmingly misaligned and their serifs slightly smudged. Whoever had written this had done so with a traditional typewriter.  

 May Hem

Playing laughter, music, each budding joy,

Spring frolics in the garden and grins at me,

It beckons the riot girl, the eternal boy,

To flaunt the best you can ever be.

                              -  R.E. McElroy

Carol smiled at the vigorous words. A quick look at it told her it was a stanza written in heroic quatrain, and she was pretty certain the capital letters in front of ‘McElroy’ hid none other than Bob. That man, Carol thought, turning the card around.

 Dear Carol,

Please join our merry crowd to celebrate this season of rejuvenation for an entire weekend of fun and games. Just bring yourself – and maybe a talent of your choosing.

Warm regards, Rose & Bob

The dates mentioned on the invitation were coming up fast, and Carol wondered if she could and should accept it. The manner in which her heart leapt at the thought of spending more time with Therese’s family however did away with the initial hesitation. After her depressing weekend visit, she needed to see people who were truly alive, embracing the here-and-now with a fiercely beating heart. And she would meet Therese, encounter her once more in her natural habitat, the one she had found so appealing on the night of the mirror ball.  

Scotch Plains, three days prior

“C’mon, dad, I’m on the phone…” Carly objected to Bob’s tireless teasing, disturbing her conversation.

“Who are you talking to anyway?” Bob questioned. “Can’t you put the damn thing down and forget about it for now?” Carly’s habit of indulging in lengthy calls while visiting irritated her father.

“I’m talking to my friend Abby,” Carly hissed between her teeth. “Remember? You used to drive us to the summer camp quarter of a century ago.”

A delighted look of recognition shone on Bob’s face. “Really? Let me have it…” he practically stole the cell away from Carly’s grip. “Is this lil’ Abigail? It’s Bob, Carly’s dad…” he roared over the phone. “You still have those braces?” he laughed, hearing an enthusiastic reply. “Twins? EXCELLENT,” Bob shouted. “Listen, we’re having a spring bash two weeks from now…” he continued, heading to another room to Carly’s distinct displeasure.

“What is he talking about?” Therese asked, drying the dinner plates in the kitchen. She had come for the day since she hadn’t been able to see Carol.

“We’re having the annual games weekend two weeks from now,” Rose said as she folded the damp towel away.

“It’s always in July,” Therese pointed out. “It’s never been this early.” She kept eyeing her mother suspiciously. “What is this?”

Carly intervened before Rose had a chance to answer. “No offense, sis, but it’s because you’re an idiot…” She reached for a colander to rinse the grapes she had brought with her.

“No offense? How the hell am I supposed to not be offended by that?” Therese snapped at her. “And what the hell do you know about anything?” She looked at Carly and then at her mother. Jesus.

“Unlike you , I talk to people – and lately I’ve talked a lot with Abby,” Carly shot back.  “And I told dad and Rose.” This she said in a much quieter tone of voice.

“What the fuck, Carly!?” Therese was beside herself. “I’m not going to tell you anything anymore. Ever.”

Carly made a rude gesture indicating she couldn’t care less of her sister’s threats. “ You don’t have to tell me anything because I know everything already.” She was far away from finished. “I can’t believe what a jackass you are… she’s a great gal, and you’re acting like a horny teenage boy!”

Worried, Therese glanced at her mother whose forehead was wrinkled either out of her ill-advised behavior or their relentless arguing. “Mom…” she started sheepishly.

“Therese,” Rose said calmly, waving her lame attempt at apology away. “Bob and I decided to move the bash up. The weather’s good and I think we could all use a nice change of pace , don’t you think?” She looked at her daughter very seriously. “Knowing the drill, you’re aware of what to expect and what is expected of you, and we will invite Carol.” The way Rose put it told Therese the matter was settled.

“And now he’s inviting Abby and her family?” Therese asked, her voice wavering with disbelief. “Good luck with that…” she scoffed.

“Have you ever heard of anyone turning down Dad’s invitation?” Carly asked Therese defiantly. Before Therese had the time to see the wisdom in her sister’s words, Bob returned.

“They’re coming. Fabulous!” He was positively beaming. “Can’t wait to see lil’ Abigail again… I can still recall her slouching on the backseat, all sullen and secretive.” Bob was tickled to death by his reminiscence. “The house will be abundant with kids! What fun!” he exalted, flicking his head fast to the right like a predator who has set his sight on unsuspecting prey – more specifically on Cass and Dusty who ran out to the yard giggling with their monster-mimicking grandfather on their tail.          

A week and a half later, Carol arrived at Bob and Rose’s house at Scotch Plains. She parked her car by the curb, the driveway having no extra room left. Carol was nervous to be there, but at the same time she was filled with anticipation – of what, she wasn’t sure. She was happy to know Abby and Gen and the boys would be there as well, providing her with indirect support in potentially confusing situations. When she got out of the car, Therese ran up to meet her.

“Hey…” Therese said, smiling. Standing face to face with her, Carol dropped her bag on the ground. They hugged each other lightly, the scent of Therese triggering a series of flashbacks of intense sexual pleasure in Carol’s harried mind. Therese touched her waist only in passing, but it burst into thousands of little tinges her fingers had imprinted in Carol’s memory. They danced all over her body in an endless procession, like tiny flames forming a ring of fire around her heart.

Unfathomably pleased, Carol blushed for a second. Noticing her befuddlement, Therese picked up her bag and carried it inside for her. The short walk from the car to the house felt absurdly meaningful. It was sprinkled with both devastating lightness and fitting solemnity.    

“Welcome!” Bob yelled the second his eyes landed at Carol. “You look lovely, absolutely ravishing,” he complimented her, and it was not an empty gesture. Carol did look good, the morning sickness having given way to a glow she didn’t know she possessed. “I will take your stuff downstairs to the den where you will be sleeping,” Bob explained. “You’ll have the place all to yourself, so you should be comfortable.” He turned to look at Carly and Jack. “You will take Therese’s old room, since Therese will be sleeping in the attic.”

Seeing Abby and Gen return from their second floor lodging, he continued for one more moment. “In case you’re wondering, the kids will be camping out on the living room floor – except little Etta who will sleep with me and Rose… won’t you, sweetie?” He picked up the little fairy girl who hardly ever uttered anything else than her own name. “Dannie will take the night watch on the couch, should anyone wish to sneak up on their parents’ bed at night, and Phil will do the same on Saturday,” Bob concluded. The brothers nodded their agreement. No one had anything to add to Bob’s plan, least of all Therese who had been condemned to the farthest upper corner of the house as far as Carol’s bed was concerned.

The early evening was to be executed on kids’ terms. Bob, Jack, Dannie and Phil took the children outside while Rose took charge of the kitchen. Carol and Gen volunteered to help her out, which left Therese and Abby to take care of the preparations for the outdoor gas grill.

“Where’s the beer?” Therese asked Rose before she stepped outside with Abby. She hoped to fill the bucket of ice Abby was holding with several long-necked bottles of her favorite brand.

“In the fridge downstairs,” Rose informed her. “Tell Carol to bring the barbecue marinade along when she comes up.”

Therese descended the stairs and found Carol putting on a cardigan at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you cold?” she asked her. “Can I get you something extra? A scarf, a poncho, woolen socks?” Therese grinned at Carol.

“You have a poncho? Never pegged you for someone wearing one,” Carol smiled. “I’m a bit chilly, but this’ll do,” she said, rubbing her arms for warmth.

“Rose has a beautiful poncho Bob brought her from Peru. I’m sure she’ll lend it to you,” Therese suggested. “I’d hate for you to be cold.” She looked at Carol openly with no hidden agenda.

“I’m good,” Carol said. “But thanks.” She returned Therese’s gaze in equal amount.

“Thanks for coming,” Therese smiled. “I’ve missed you.” Her right arm resting leisurely on her side, she sought support from the handrail with her left one. “Things were left a bit… weird.” She waited a blink of an eye before continuing. “I’m sorry.”

Carol glanced at the hand on the rail. The knuckles protruding in white bony ridges, it appeared to be holding on tight. She started to extend her arm toward what lay ahead but raised it to wipe her own chin instead. “Yeah… me, too.” The answer was timid but warm and sincere, which pleased Therese.  

“Rose wants you to pick up the marinade,” Therese said after a moment’s silence. “She’s gonna work your asses off.” She let go off the rail and motioned toward the refrigerator. Carol turned to its direction, and when she did, she felt the lightest push between her shoulder blades as if a sparrow had landed there only to fly away at once.

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Carol murmured, opening the fridge door. She took out the container, the weight of which shifted from one side to the other due to the movements of its thick, chestnut-colored liquid.  Nearly losing the hold of it, she kneeled to secure it at the same time as Therese lowered her head to look for the bottles. A collision was barely avoided. Entranced, Therese breathed in the air that was Carol.

“Careful with that grill now,” Carol said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Therese acquiesced to narrow hers and smile, catching as many bottles as she could between her long, slender fingers.

Abby professed an unforeseen ability to work miracles with the gas grill. She was in her element, turning the various vegetables, fish steaks and burger patties around on the iron grates. The graceful brown bottle she kept holding on her left hand never seemed to run out of beer, feeding her easy banter. Carol observed her friend from a distance, enjoying the relaxed manner with which Abby lobbed quips, jokes and comments back and forth .

Rose had brought Carol a flute of champagne, telling her to drink the very best now that she could only have very little. Carol had confided in her about her pregnancy, although it didn’t feel like a secret anymore. It had been an easy fact to depart with, Rose giving her a knowing smile as she had started to talk about the baby.

“Twelve weeks… about the size of a lime, my dear,” Rose had said, scraping the capers and the chopped cornichons and marinated red onions into the potato salad bowl. “You do know what happens this week, don’t you?” she asked Carol. When Carol had shaken her head she had willingly elaborated. “The little lime that already looks a lot like an actual baby is developing reflexes…” She paused to take a long look at Carol. “We know all about reflexes, don’t we?” Rose wrapped her left arm momentarily around Carol’s back, and the gesture appealed to Carol very much.

Sitting on a lawn chair, wrapped in a red fleece blanket, Carol enjoyed what was magnificently vibrant around her. Bob plotting something with Jack between frequent bites of an overloaded triple-decker burger he kept swinging carelessly around. Gen standing on the lawn, listening to Cass and obviously not understanding a word of what the quick-witted girl was trying to get across. The way she kept stroking the back of her left shin with her right instep like a confused grasshopper was a tell Gen often resorted to.

Carly sat in another Adirondack, her head tilted back while her left hand rubbed the back of her neck. She looked content, floating in a soft red wine bubble of her own. Dusty and Etta leaving her blissfully alone for now, Carly seemed serene – until Mickey bumped into the back of her chair and made her spill Zinfandel over her crisp white chinos.

And Therese – Carol knew exactly where Therese was even if she wasn’t actively seeking her. She felt her presence like she sensed a sudden leap in temperature or a gentle shift in the wind that no longer wished to keep her from moving. Whenever Therese re-emerged in Carol’s line of sight, she always seemed to be carrying giggling Lou on her shoulders.

It was Bob who finally brought Carol out of her reverie. “Time to start the talent show,” he declared wiggling his eyebrows comically.

“I won’t go first,” Dannie stated, basing his objection on his knowledge of prior occasions. “I’m still not finished with my food.” He certainly wasn’t, his plate heaped with bratwursts and German potato salad. His brother declined the number one spot just as vehemently.

“I’ll do it.” Carol turned around to see Therese stride across the yard carrying a guitar case. She set a kitchen chair on the lawn and kneeled next to the case.

“Carol Kaye bassline, huh?” Dannie asked curiously. Pleased to see Therese take the initiative, Bob forgot all about his gargantuan burger.     

“No bass, not tonight,” Therese said simply. The guitar she picked up was not her somewhat timeworn Ibanez but a beautiful Cordoba with a Canadian cedar top and Indian rosewood back and sides.

Bob smiled seeing the guitar built for classical tradition. “So you never gave up after all?” he asked his Theodore.

“I’m not a quitter, Dad,” Therese said, winking at him. She glanced at Carol before she set her left foot on the footstool and started the piece she had prepared as her contribution to the talent display.

The deft fingers of Therese’s hand plucking out the poignant melody, Gabriel Fauré’s melancholy Pavane filled the late evening air. As her hands moved on the guitar, Therese herself was almost immobile, transfixed by what emanated out of the tuned body she held in her arms. The fingers on the left finding their exact places on the strings, complementing the assured strokes on the right, Therese succumbed to the ebbs and flows of the piece’s exquisite, harmonic climaxes.

How can I be so happy, listening to something so sad? Carol mused, her eyes welling up with tears.