Hello! This is just a short little piece. I hope you like it. It could go with "Warm in Winter" or stand alone.
Therese spins in circles puttering around the kitchen. Carol watches her from her spot perched at the kitchen table, all of the commotion from Therese almost making her dizzy. She speaks to Abby on the phone, talking of what to make for dinner that evening. It's a quarter past one on Saturday and Therese keeps muttering nervously while pondering dinner options.
"Abigail Gerhard, pay attention while I am talking to you, or we will never get dinner started," Carol scolds.
Carol can hear the radio click off in the background. "Fine, fine. How can I help you, Madame?"
Carol rolls her eyes at the obvious cheek from her dearest friend. "What time will you be round for dinner? Therese wants to know if she has time to run to the market."
"What time suits you? Rose has to go in at 4 to help with the dinner rush at the steakhouse. I could make my way over after I drive her," Abby replies.
"Alright. Do you fancy anything in particular? Therese is a wonderful cook," Carol asks.
"God, anything but steak. I am sick to death of steak," Abby replies. Carol chuckles a little at that.
Carol holds up four fingers to show Therese what time Abby is set to arrive. Therese stops her puttering long enough to catch the response. She has just enough time to run to the nicer grocery store a few blocks away and still make the pork roast for dinner, as long as Carol doesn't mind shelling the peas.
"That works, I think," Carol smiles as Therese drops a kiss on her forehead and runs out the door.
Before they hang up Carol pauses for a second, choosing her words carefully. "Abby promise you'll be nice this evening. Therese is working very hard on dinner."
"I'm always nice," Abby says back with a smile in her voice.
"Abby… you know exactly what I mean."
"Fine! I'll be the nicest girl you ever met," Abby sasses.
"That's more like it. We'll expect you around 4:30?" Carol asks.
"Yes, mother, 4:30," she replies with a click.
When the call is ended Carol gets up from the gossip table, deciding to run the vacuum over the living room carpet and straighten the decorative pillows on the couch. She never imagined that her lonely Madison Avenue apartment could feel so much like a home. Therese has added many personal touches as well as photographs to the walls, and Rindy's toys are piled neatly in the wooden chest in the corner, waiting for her daughter's weekend visit.
In the kitchen, Carol dons a clean apron and opens the icebox, in search for the peas Therese has asked her to prepare. She pulls out a pot to boil rice too, and measures out enough for the three of them and perhaps enough for leftovers. While her hands are kept busy, her mind begins to wander.
Abby and Therese are always cordial to one another - never snide, never rude - but Carol knows that sometimes it seems as though there's a lifetime between them. Carol and Abby have been through so much together and apart that Therese has not been around long enough to experience. Not to mention Abby has a protective streak a mile long, especially for friends like Carol.
I hope you know what you're doing, she'd said, all that time ago. It was back before the road trip, before the custody battle, before Carol's life had been tinged with the acute sweetness and melancholy that came with navigating her relationship with Therese Belivet.
She knows that she would have been a miserable excuse of a mother to Rindy if she had been forced to live a life without Therese, going against her own grain, fighting with herself and hiding her sexuality for the rest of her life. Carol believed every word she'd said to Harge in their lawyer's office, and she kept Rindy every two weeks. It was enough for her. No matter what Abby thought.
Therese returns from the market in a flurry of activity. She unpacks her bag from the grocery store revealing a generous portion of pork loin and a sachet of fresh rosemary and other spices. Carol's mouth waters a little at the sight. There's also wine for tonight and a loaf of baked bread and honey for breakfast tomorrow morning.
The last item Therese pulls from the brown paper bag is a fresh bouquet of red tulips, wrapped with a damp cloth at the end and tied with a string. Therese presents them to Carol, her dimples in full effect.
"I had to get these. They reminded me of you," she says genuinely.
"Sweetheart, they're beautiful," Carol says, still a little stunned at the gesture. It's refreshing to receive flowers that are not an apology.
"Exactly my point," Therese says, stepping in to press a warm kiss to Carol's cheek, always mindful of Carol's lipstick.
Carol gives no thought to her makeup, pulling Therese in by her waist before she can get too far. Their kiss is familiar but no less passionate for the time they've been together. Therese lets her eyes fall closed, getting a little lost in the kiss as Carol uses her free hand to caress Therese's neck.
The clock on the wall chimes three, making Therese gasp and pull away. "I've got to get this in the oven! It needs at least thirty minutes."
And just like that she's back in a whirlwind of activity. Carol just smirks in amusement at Therese and her need for tonight's dinner to be perfect. The effort warms her. After the tulips are housed snugly in a glass vase, she returns to shelling peas and chopping carrots for the roast.
A few minutes till 4:30 there is a knock at the apartment door. Therese tries not to fret about the pork loin needing a few more minutes. At least dinner will be served piping hot. To her credit, the apartment smells delicious.
She can hear Carol and Abby catching up by the door, gabbing like schoolgirls. Therese loves that Carol has a friend who can make her laugh, and who loves her unconditionally. She knows from experience that friends like that are hard to find. A few minutes pass and she can no longer hide behind the small wall that separates the kitchen, and makes her way to greet Abby.
"Hello Therese," Abby says as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
"Hi Abby," Therese says as politely as she can. She never quite knows when to walk on eggshells around the other woman. Abby likes her, sure, but she's always got her guard up.
The small dinner table looks gorgeous, especially draped in the lacy linen cloth. There's a wine glass next to each of the three plates as the bottle of red is uncorked to breathe in the center of the table. Carol's tulips bloom brightly next to the salt and pepper shakers.
"Well something sure smells delicious," Abby says as she sets her bag down on the couch.
"The pork roast should be done in a few minutes. There's vegetables and rice too, if you want them," Therese says.
Abby plays nice for now, looking over at Carol, "Someone's certainly hit the jackpot, haven't they?"
Carol just smirks in response, looking meaningfully at Therese. "Poor Rose says I'm hopeless at cooking. I would burn water if you let me," Abby sighs.
Carol chuckles a little at that, "It's true."
The chime of the oven draws Therese back to the kitchenette to pull out the roast.
A few bites into dinner, the atmosphere is pleasant. The red wine might certainly be helping matters but no one is complaining. Carol tells a story about Rindy in kindergarten, and how she had to pack extra treats in her daughter's lunch, because she couldn't stop sharing them with her little friends.
Abby laughs at the tale, and Therese prematurely begins to relax.
"It's a shame Rindy couldn't join us for dinner, isn't it?" Abby says, looking pointedly at Therese. She takes a bite without breaking eye contact.
Carol clears her throat of the wine that barely made it down the right windpipe. "It is a shame really, she loves Therese's cooking."
Therese tries out a smile. "We made cookies last time," Therese explains, "I let her put chocolate morsels in them. The best way to a five-year-old's heart."
"How nice," Abby says, just barely masking the sarcasm in her voice. Therese lets the moment roll off her back. She worked hard on dinner and wants it to go as smoothly as possible.
The idle dinner conversation is a little stilted but not altogether unpleasant as the evening goes on. The roast really is quite delicious, and Carol's vegetables are delightful as always.
Therese is chewing a forkful of rice when Abby asks, "Which department store is it you work in again? Was it Macy's or Sears?" Abby knows full well that she no longer sells dolls and trains.
Therese works hard not to sigh. She puts on her sweetest voice and replies. "I don't work in Frankenburg's anymore. I'm a secretary at the Times."
Carol pipes up helpfully, "Therese submitted a wonderful article to be printed last week. It's up for review but we have high hopes, don't we dearest?"
Before Therese can answer, Abby cuts her off. "Oh yes, the Times," she mocks. "Tell me, didn't your old fiancé get you that job? How is he doing, by the way?"
"He in fact did not," Therese nearly sneers, "And for the record we were never engaged. I wouldn't know how he's doing."
"I suppose not, since he let you traipse around the country with a woman you'd just met last Christmas." Abby has always known exactly which buttons to push.
"Excuse me," Therese looks briefly in Carol's direction before continuing, "But who the hell gave you the right to-"
"Enough!" Carol shouts to silence them. Her fork clatters loudly against the china as she drops it.
Carol stands from the dinner table, making her way over to the radio stand where she keeps her box of cigarettes. She opens it only to find that it's empty. Carol can't remember the last time she bought any. She sure hasn't felt the stressful urge to smoke in a while.
Therese can see from the short distance that the ornate box is empty. "I'll go get you some," She volunteers. She's out the door before Carol can even remind her to take a sweater.
As soon as the door closes, Carol whirls in on Abby.
"What in the God's name is wrong with you?" she says incredulously.
Abby looks mostly unfazed, "I don't know what you mean."
Carol scoffs. "How could you not? You are being extremely rude, not to mention talking very out of turn," she almost growls.
Abby has the decency to look mildly scolded. Carol has never talked to her in this tone of voice. At once she has gone from playing the spider to the fly.
"Forgive me, Carol, for trying to look out for you. For your best interests." Abby takes the napkin draped across her lap and tosses it carelessly beside her half-empty plate.
"And just how are you looking out for my best interests, interrogating the one I love?" Carol fires back.
"Oh, Carol, don't be daft," Abby rolls her eyes. "Can't you see? You could have full custody of Rindy by now if it weren't for that slip of a shop girl."
The turn of phrase shop girl lights a blaze beneath Carol's already fever pitched emotions. Harge had used it the same way. There's no way in hell she will let Abby carelessly do the same. Not after all they've been through in the last year.
"Don't you dare call her that Abigail," Carol sneers darkly, her finger poised outwards in the direction of her best friend.
"If it weren't for Therese my life would be still be half-empty. My heart would be broken. I tried to live without her once, and I do not care to do it again."
Abby stands to pace closer to Carol. "Well that's what I am trying to avoid, Carol," her voice loud, but just below a yell, "I've gotten very good at mending you when a woman breaks your heart."
"This is not like those others Abby, and you know it," Carol says slightly calmer now that the discussion has turned a corner, "I love Therese. She loves me. Can't you see that?"
"Of course I can," Abby nearly sighs in defeat. "A blind man could see it. I just had to make sure that it was real. That what you have with Therese isn't just an infatuation with a girl who was in the right place at the right time."
"It's not," Carol says surely. She reaches out to touch Abby's shoulder. "I'm sure of it," she says vehemently, taking care to look directly into Abby's eyes.
Abby seems to take it for an answer. "Good. I'm glad."
"If she does anything to hurt you, Carol, I swear-"
"I know, I know," Carol says as she rolls her eyes. "You've always been in my corner."
"And don't you forget it," Abby replies.
Carol smirks.
"I am sorry for being so rude to Therese." Abby says contritely.
"Yes well," Carol pats her shoulder, "Lucky for you, she's the most forgiving person on Earth."
"Lucky for us both then," Abby says with meaning.
Abby pulls out a cigarette from the fresh pack she's had in her handbag the whole time. Carol actually laughs at that. She could have at least shared.
"What am I going to do with you, Abigail Gerhard?"
Once Abby slips out the apartment door to smoke, Carol moves back in the direction of the kitchen and the small dinner table. She pulls out a baking tray to warm all three plates in the oven.
Outside on the sidewalk, Abby leans against the building to light up her cigarette. Therese rounds the corner with a brown paper pharmacy bag. When she spots Abby she rolls her eyes; she had been hoping for a few more moments of peace before facing her again.
Therese makes to move past her and into the building, thinking that if she doesn't have anything nice to say, she won't stop to say anything at all. Abby predicts this, and moves to grab Therese gently by the wrist before she can disappear into the building.
"Therese wait," Abby says as Therese huffs, "I owe you an apology. I should have never said those things." Therese says nothing but her eyes are open to Abby's plea as she listens.
"Carol's my best friend. I was just trying to protect her."
"I know," Therese says, as she takes the offered smoke from Abby's hand, "Me too. I would never hurt her."
"I know," Abby says back. "I can be a real nitwit sometimes."
Therese laughs at that. "It's alright. It's nice that Carol has someone like you always fighting for her."
The smoke dances around them for a second before Abby says, "You do too."
Therese looks up at Abby in confusion.
"I'd fight for you too," Abby shrugs like it's no big deal, "If you wanted me too."
Therese smiles at that. She's never met anyone like Abby. "Yes. I think I would."
She snubs out the butt of the cigarette on the heel of her shoe.
"Carol was right, you know," Abby says as Therese holds open the door to the building for her.
"Right about what?" Therese asks.
"You really are the most forgiving person in the world," Abby says, an amused smile perched on her lips.
"I can be," Therese replies, "When it's worth my while."
Thanks for reading!