Elaine tossed and turned, the bamboo sheets cool against her bare skin. She stared up at her ceiling fan, mesmerized by the shadows of the blades. She turned on her side and hugged her body pillow, the one she’d slept with since she’d lost Barb. She hugged it close with her knee propped up on it and arm pulling it tight. When she’d first lost Barb, she’d put one of her nightshirts on it and inhaled her scent every night. But eventually, the scent had faded and she was left with just a pillow. The smell of the closet had diminished as well, and it was useless to clear out the shoes and lie inside the closet with the door closed. The soothing high of doing so had long since vanished, mixing with the fresh air of the house.
If she somehow could’ve bottled it. Bottled Barb. But how do you capture a soul, an aura, a truly free spirit? Sure she had her perfume, and often times that still hit her with a quick kick to the gut as she walked past someone who wore it. But it wasn’t Barb. It was only a piece. She wanted the perfume mingled with Barb’s moist skin, the scent of her hair at the base of her neck, the taste of the impression just above her collarbone first thing in the morning. She missed how she heated when she slept, like a human radiator all wrapped up in her covers. Elaine had often awakened cold and coverless only to find that Barb had wrapped them all around herself, cocoon like. She’d never tried to get them back or to wake her. She’d simply risen and retrieved more, loving the sound of Barb’s steady breath more soothing to her than worrying about the stolen covers. Barb slept like the dead, and she was the only one Elaine had ever been with who fell asleep as soon as she hit the pillow.
Barb had no worries or racing thoughts keeping her awake at night. Barb lived hard and fearless, free and happy. She didn’t believe in drama, and she simply walked away from it when faced with it. She’d take Elaine by the hand and say, “Let’s blow this pop stand, El.” And off they’d go, leaving a person standing there mouth agape. Elaine recalled leaving more than one party and even moving because Barb didn’t like the drama. And as the years went by, they’d had to deal with less and less. It had become more and more common for two women to live together. Men, for the most part, left them alone. And even if they didn’t, Barb set it right and Elaine felt good, safe.
Elaine turned again and saw that it was after eleven. She was going on day three with very little sleep. Insomnia wasn’t new to her, but it had been a while since it had reared its ugly head. She rose and slipped into her robe. She made her way down the hallway without needing light. In the kitchen she made a cup of Chai tea and settled into the sofa in the living room. She lit the candle on the table next to her and turned on the stereo. She decided to let the iPod choose on its own, and when Led Zeppelin came on she laughed and then choked up with tears. She could still see Barb dancing in the kitchen, headphones on, using the mop handle as a microphone. Barb loved to jam out and clean, jam out and drink, or jam out and get it on. She loved music and loved to dance. She’d always catch Elaine watching her, and she’d grin and pull her in and hold her as she moved.
“Come on, darling. Shake what your momma gave ya.”
Elaine wiped her tears and laughed. She could almost see her now. Hear her. Feel her. God, what she wouldn’t give to hold her close and move to the music. What she wouldn’t give to see her dancing with the broom or sashaying down the hallway.
Elaine thumbed up the volume as Steppenwolf came on, and she laughed and cried as she remembered being awakened on more than one Saturday morning to the loud music. Of course she’d groaned and called out and buried her head under the pillows, but Barb always found her, crawling under the covers and nibbling and tickling her awake. She’d tug her from bed and lead her down the hallway to a hot cup of coffee and homemade pancakes.
“It’s a beautiful day,” she’d say. “Don’t waste it in dreamland.”
Elaine sipped her tea as the words replayed in her mind. “Don’t waste it in dreamland.”
She closed her eyes, so tired. But her mind wouldn’t let her rest. No, it wanted to torture her with the past. Replay image after image of Barb. But the worst part, the very worst, was that Barb’s face was becoming less defined. No matter how hard she focused, she couldn’t see her face as it had been in life. So she clung to the photo, stared at it for hours, trying desperately to imprint it in her mind for all eternity. But it didn’t seem to help. Her memories were firm, yes, but Barb’s face, her smile, were becoming smudged.
She traced Barb’s photo with her fingertip. It was black-and-white, the only kind of photo Elaine ever took. Barb was on the beach, turning to look back at her, wind whipping at her hair. Her light shone from her eyes, radiated from her smile. Elaine could feel her heat, her passion for life; she could feel it coming up through the glass of the frame.
How could she be gone but still feel so close?
Elaine touched her face and then jerked as she heard a soft knock from her door.
She wiped her eyes, placed the photo on the couch, and approached the door. As she touched the handle, her eyes drifted closed, and she wished silently for Johnnie to be on the other end. She longed to be held in her arms. To fall asleep and dream peacefully like she used to do with Barb.
She checked the peephole and sighed. She unbolted the door and opened it. Kyle stood just beyond the security screen.
“I thought you might be up,” she said. “Thought you might want some company.”
Elaine tightened her robe, considering her options. She knew she’d be up for hours, no doubt crying over Barb. And when she wasn’t thinking about Barb, she was thinking about Johnnie.
“Come in.” She unlocked the outer door and allowed her entry. Kyle was in cargo shorts and a T-shirt. Her cologne was strong but tantalizing. Her damp hair suggested a fresh shower.
Elaine closed and locked the door. She motioned for Kyle to sit next to her on the couch. Kyle studied her closely, and Elaine felt slightly uncomfortable. She rubbed the back of her neck with nerves. She wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable. Perhaps this was a mistake.
“How have you been?” Kyle asked.
Elaine sipped her tea and straightened her spine. “Fine and you?”
“Good. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Elaine gripped her tea mug. “I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. You know there will never be anything between us.”
Kyle shifted. “Sure, I know that. But it doesn’t mean I can’t think about it.”
Elaine met her gaze. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
Kyle nodded and rested her hand on her cheek as she leaned against the armrest.
“I get it.”
“Then why did you come?”
She laughed a little. “Why did you let me in?”
Elaine set her mug down. “I can’t sleep.”
“Maybe I can help.”
Elaine smiled at her confidence. “I don’t think so.”
“Then what did you have in mind?”
Elaine stood, realizing it was a mistake to let her in, lead her on. “I think I can sleep after all.”
She felt lightheaded and steadied herself on the couch. Kyle stood and came to her side.
“Are you okay?” Her eyes showed concern, and from the look on her face, Elaine knew she must look really bad.
“I just need to lie down I think.” But her knees went weak, and Kyle caught her.
“You’re not okay.” She sat her down on the couch. She retrieved her phone and dialed. “I’m calling nine one one.”
“No, no.” Elaine tried to smile and she touched her arm. “No need to worry.”
“Too late,” Kyle said, reporting the situation to the operator.
Elaine blinked and tried to focus, but stared off into oblivion. Her mouth went slack, her muscles melted, and she couldn’t make out the words Kyle was saying.
“Johnnie,” Elaine said, fighting to hold her head up. “Call Johnnie. I want Johnnie.”
She fell back against the couch, saw Barb’s perfect face above her, smiled, and let the blackness take her.