When my phone lights up with a text, hope sparks in my chest. But it’s Wednesday evening and this is Hera’s time with Jill—which is surely a time when texting is not allowed.
I’m apprehensive when I pick up my phone. It might be Alana, giving it one last try. Or worse, Caitlin—although I think she has well and truly received the message now. It could also be Rocco, checking in on me. I know Hera hasn’t been responding to his texts or calls and he’s worried she’ll start locking herself away in her house again.
I look at the screen. It’s a message from Hera.
I read it again and again. After my conversation with Caitlin, I had planned to contact her. To ask her to meet one last time, if only to not have things end on such a sour note between us. I hadn’t expected her to contact me. What should I do? Text back or just bite the bullet and call her?
I decide to call her. Perhaps I can deduce something more from the tone of her voice than from these words on my phone screen.
Who am I kidding? I just want to hear her voice. And she did say she was sorry—that’s most baffling of all.
My heart beats in my throat as I call her. It rings three times before she picks up.
“Hi,” she says, her voice much more assured than I had expected. “Thanks for calling.” Ah, no, there’s the tension.
“Thanks for texting,” I say. “The answer is yes. We can talk. Whenever suits you.”
“Erm.” There’s a pause and I hear some shuffling on the other end of the line. Or is that a muffled voice?
“Are you not alone?” I ask. I strain my ear. Is that Rocco I hear? Did he get through to her after all? Gave her a talking to? It’s certainly his style with anyone else, but I can’t imagine him giving his aunt a stern lecture.
“I’m with Jill,” Hera says.
I only met Jill briefly, but I’d like to go over to her practice and give her a big hug.
“Is it too late to come over tonight?” Hera asks.
“No,” I blurt out. I don’t care that I have to get up early tomorrow. I need to see Hera. I probably wouldn’t sleep a wink if we set a date for tomorrow, anyway. “Please, come over. Or I can come to yours.”
“I’m still out and about. I can be there in twenty minutes,” Hera says.
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
“Okay,” Hera says and hangs up.
Hera arrives seven minutes earlier than she estimated. I’ve been counting down. When I open the door I’m both nervous and almost beside myself with excitement.
Even though she’s wearing a variation of the clothes she always wears, and they might as well be the same as the ones she wore when she was here last on Sunday, she comes across as completely different. She hasn’t come to break up with me again, to double confirm her sentiments about our relationship, which makes me relax a little. But still, the things she said to me can’t be un-said, and we have a lot to discuss.
She waves off my offer of a beer because she has to drive, so I present her with a glass of water instead.
I invite her to sit and force myself to sit next to her, even though my legs want to pace—at least until we’ve both said what we want to say.
“I was surprised you texted me during your time with Jill.” I start things off.
“It was a homework assignment she didn’t trust me to do at home.” Hera runs a hand through her hair.
I chuckle. “Have I told you that I really like Jill?”
“Look, Kat, hm… I’ve had some time to think and I’ve had this chat with Jill and, I guess, the conclusion is that, if it were up to me, I’d like for us to try again. I mean, I don’t suddenly have all the answers but I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that on Sunday.”
“I understand why you did. I could have been kinder and more understanding.”
Hera shakes her head. “I disagree. This isn’t about you being more understanding. And yes, when I came here on Sunday, a big part of me did arrive with the intention of breaking things off. But another part of me wanted to explain more about how I feel. About how I am. But I didn’t do that at all. Mainly because I didn’t know how, so I chose the easiest road and I just left.” She looks at me with a steady gaze. “So, thank you so much for agreeing to see me. It means a lot to me.”
“I’ve had time to think as well and it’s really not all down to you.”
“Well, at least we’re talking.” Hera’s grin is almost shy.
“The past few days, I’ve been thinking that, increasingly, life is all about what we are able to communicate. And I don’t mean just in words.” I say.
“I did a pretty bad job of communicating,” Hera says.
“You have to take the circumstances into account. I probably shouldn’t have said that thing about a certain type of client I had.” I just want to take Hera in my arms, but I’m also reminded of what I said to Caitlin—about always wanting to fix her—which is not something I can repeat tonight.
“I’m not going to lie,” Hera says. “Jill spurred me on to text you, and then you called, and now I’m here. But I don’t really know what to say.” There’s her pleading gaze on me again. “Where do we go from here? Is only the intention of being with each other going to be enough?”
I inch a little closer to her. “Who knows what’s enough? All I know is that it’s a start.”
Hera glances at my hands.
“I should have talked to you before we ended up in bed. It’s not an excuse, but things did suddenly move very fast.”
“Tell me about it. I was just driving you home and, out of nowhere, there was your hand on my knee.” I try a smile.
Hera nods, as if she’s guilty of something. “I just—I find you irresistible and simply feeling that way about someone has caused some serious clashes with the identity I’ve made up for myself.”
“And what would that identity be?” I scoot a little closer still.
“I think you know.” Her lips don’t smile, but her eyes do. “Some kind of untouchable butch builder.” She snickers. “Maybe I should start tearing down my own walls.”
I burst into a chuckle because it’s such an un-Hera-like thing to say. Maybe Jill put these words into her mouth. But it doesn’t matter where they came from. It’s the sentiment behind them that counts. Like Hera’s already taking the first swing of the hammer to that very sturdy wall around her heart.
“Maybe I can help you with that,” I offer.
“You might break a fingernail or two in the process.” Hera’s smile does curl up the corners of her mouth now.
“You can’t make an omelet and all that,” I say, mirroring her smile.
“I can’t make you any promises, Kat. I am still who I am—who I’ve become. And if we do decide to see each other again, I will need you to be patient.”
“I’ve waited for someone like you for a very long time. Patience shouldn’t be that much of a problem.” I reach for her hand.
“What do you need from me?” Hera asks.
“For starters, I’d really like you to redo my kitchen,” I joke. I stroke my thumb over Hera’s palm. “I need you to talk to me. That’s all. And I know it’s hard for you, but I need you to try.”
“I will,” Hera says. “Although I’m not sure I have much more talking in me tonight.”
“For tonight,” I say, “It’s enough that you’re here.”
“I’d like to stay,” Hera says. “I’d like to just sleep in your arms.” She tilts her head and leans in. “And right now, I’d very much like to kiss you.”
“Both things can be arranged.” As her lips touch down on mine, I feel all the way into my bones, that Hera has taken the biggest hurdle already. She came back and showed a little bit more of herself to me. As our kiss deepens, the words I just spoke to her echo in my mind: for tonight, it’s enough.