Therese
“Do you think she’ll come?”
Therese’s voice betrayed the uncertainty that had become a constant companion in these last few days before the opening. With a sigh Dannie carefully put down the large frame that he was trying to adjust to one of the bare brick walls of the gallery. This was not the first time that he had been asked this same question by Therese.
“Therese, would you please stop worrying. Considering all that you’ve told me about you and the wonderful Carol Aird I can only conclude that she’ll be here.” With an encouraging smile he added: “And if she doesn’t, I’ll owe you a beer.”
It was the day of the opening and Dannie had volunteered to help his friend with the last minute adjustments. He was all too familiar with Therese’s uncertainty about her free work and he knew she would be tempted to change her choice of photographs and the sequence in which they were showed until the very end.
Their friendship had started at The Times, when they were both still trainees, fresh from the New York Film Academy where they had attended the Photography School. From the very beginning Dannie had been smitten by his petite young colleague. It had resulted in some awkward moments, but it did not take long before Dannie realized that it was Therese’s friendship he would always value most. After that they had become close, Therese becoming one of the “boys” in his close knit group of friends.
Thus, it was only natural that Therese confided in him when she returned from Salt Lake City, bursting with stories about meeting and falling in love with Carol Aird. He was surprised by the strength and depth of her emotions, only having seen her handle her affairs with women, even Genevieve, in an often dispassionate, sometimes even indifferent way. They had never really talked about it, but he repeatedly wondered if Therese’s background as a foster child made it difficult for her to seriously make a commitment to another person.
Dannie looked at Therese who stood, frowning, in front of a large framed photograph she had only brought in today to include in the exhibition. After she had removed the plain brown paper wrapped around it, Dannie had immediately recognized Carol Aird, assuming that the girl that was confidently leaning against her was her daughter.
“She’s beautiful … they are beautiful,” he had whispered, admiring the way Therese had played with the light.
Therese had only smiled in response, a radiant smile that betrayed her longing for Carol. But could she have doubts now about showing this particular picture today? He walked up to her and put his hands on her frail shoulders, forcing her to look at him.
“Therese, it’s a wonderful image. Leave it there. She’ll come, don’t worry.”
She nodded, touched by his concern for her, but he could not fully convince her. The weeks after she had left Salt Lake City had been difficult. Not that she regretted the separation she had insisted on. It had given her room to think about her feelings, to contemplate the possibilities of a relationship with Carol, to sever the last ties that bound her to Genevieve. But after the first intoxicating days that were filled with the excitement of being in love, more and more she was confronted with her inner fears, the deeply hidden thoughts that she had always anxiously avoided.
Her single mother being unable to care for her, she had been committed to the care of foster parents only a few weeks after her birth. Although she had always been an obedient and friendly, if somewhat shy child, none of her foster parents decided to offer her a permanent home. She had learned to accept the frequent transfers without comment, forcing herself not to ask the questions that in the end she did not want to be answered: what’s wrong with me ? Why don’t they want to adopt me? Am I not worth it?
She left her last foster family when she was eighteen and had succeeded in obtaining a scholarship at the Film Academy. Living in foster care, she had learned to only rely on herself and to never fully commit, knowing that one day she might have to leave again. It had been the same during her years with Genevieve, even though their life together had come closest to what she imagined to be the life at a home that offered love and stability, the comfort of belonging. Still, she had not followed Genevieve to Cambridge and had stayed behind in New York.
During the sleepless nights of the past few days she had tormented herself with the same recurrent questions. Would she be able now to fully commit herself to a relationship with Carol? And what would Carol do when she knew about her fears and anxieties? More and more Therese had been troubled by these thoughts and by now they almost made her fear the moment Carol would be there … or not.
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Her senior editor Fred Wilson had courteously offered to open the exhibition and Therese was overwhelmed by his kind praise and admiring comments on her work. A startling amount of people had turned up. She noticed some colleagues from the Times, former fellow students from the Academy, several neighbours and a lot of friends: surprisingly, next to Dannie’s “boys”, there also were some of the women who had always been more Genevieve’s friends than hers. Genevieve herself was not there and Therese felt regret that right now this was how things were to be between them.
An hour after Fred had welcomed the small crowd that by now had gathered in the gallery, Carol still hadn’t arrived. And although Therese was kept busy by many enthusiastic visitors, keen to know everything about her and her work, she felt her anxiety grow. Hiding her impatience she smiled at the two elderly ladies who had cornered her next to a large print of the portrait she had made of Chris, a homeless man she had met during one of her walks through the neighbourhood.
“He looks quite frightening…”, one of the women commented. “Weren’t you afraid to approach him, let alone make his picture?”
Therese sighed uncomfortably.
“He’s actually a very kind man. I always try to look through the exterior, not to let myself be fooled by …”
Therese stopped midsentence, seeing that the woman in front of her was clearly distracted by something. Therese’s gaze followed her hand when she pointed at a tall woman in a black suit a few metres away, who was watching them. Her heart skipped a beat. Carol. Therese smiled when she noticed that Carol was wearing the same suit that she had worn when she had fetched her from the airport in Salt Lake City. But the arrogance that had made Therese so very uneasy then, was now replaced by a shyness she found endearing. Their roles were reversed now and Therese felt her excitement grow. She would show Carol her world, her life.
Smiling, Carol slowly walked up to her, opening her arms. The intensity of their embrace made Therese tremble and awakened the strong physical longing that was such a distinct part of her love for this beautiful woman.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
Carol’s lips caressed her ear before she buried her face in her hair. Therese pulled her even closer.
“Can I kiss you?”, she whispered.
For a brief moment she felt Carol tense, but then she relaxed, fully giving in to Therese’s embrace.
“I thought you’d never ask…”