Tuesday, September 26th, 1939
8:05 a.m.
First day of classes. First day of classes as a senior, Harrie thought as she sauntered her way toward Carol's room. So many bright, shining, eager faces on that September morning, so many young women completely oblivious to the fact that in two weeks, they would be utterly exhausted from studying, classes, sports, clubs, and everything else that went with college life. She was just going to be perfectly calm about it, not let things stress her out in her final year. There would be plenty for her to worry about when she left college and went to grad school - wherever that might be. For now though…
Harrie walked up the house steps, nearly crashing into another student who rushed out, blowing open the door in her wake. Harrie scurried up the steps to catch it, preventing it from slamming, and turned back to the girl who had come running out.
"You know what floor Carol's on?"
"Second floor," the girl replied as she kept walking away from the house, "I think she's still asleep though."
Asleep? Harrie took a peek at her wristwatch.
Harrie entered the house which as fairly similar to where she had lived on campus for the last three years. This one seemed to be the residence of lots of artsy types, bulky canvases sitting in the front room, oversized art history books on the shelves, reprints of European masterpieces on the walls. It fit Carol very nicely, Harrie thought.
As she walked up the staircase, the house was even quieter. No one was in the bathroom, no one rushing to get themselves together for class, no sounds of anyone snoring in their beds. Well, except for one room.
Even without looking at the nameplate, Harrie knew the rolling sounds of Carol's snores and behind which door she could find her. She reached for the doorknob, pleased to find it unlocked, and peered her head around the corner. Carol had already unpacked her trunk and placed whatever she could into the drawers and the closet. Only her tea set and utensils remained on the window sill without a home. New textbooks and notebooks sat on the desk along with the black fountain pen Harrie had given her for her birthday.
There in bed, sprawled out with the sheet and blankets in complete disarray, was Carol. Sleeping on her back with an arm raised above her head, the other tucked beneath a pillow. It was still unusually warm for the end of September, and Carol slept in a camisole and shorts, one leg covered with a sheet and part of her stomach covered by a blanket. Snoring.
Harrie entered and shut the bedroom door with care not to make any sound. She took one step forward, then backtracked and turned the key to lock the door. Moving toward the desk, she eyed a short stack of letters and the handwritten timetable Carol had made, sitting atop her books, noting that she had somewhere to be at nine. Why was she still sleeping then? Harrie placed her own books besides Carol's and walked to her side of the bed to take a seat. Carol never registered that someone else was there, she kept sleeping, kept snoring, kept wiggling her nose in the most amusing manner. Watching Carol sleep so peacefully made Harrie content, and very badly want to adjust her bedding and climb in her next to her for the rest of the morning.
Nonetheless summer vacation was over, she reminded herself as she looked down at her. They weren't going to have the same privacy they had had back in Greenwich or Boston, even if the door was locked or Carol's roommate was away. There was always someone around, someone noticing who came in and who came out of the house. The beds always made too much sound; even when flipping over to the other shoulder, there was a rickety creaking with every single movement.
Harrie carefully peeled away the blanket and brushed aside the sheet until there was just Carol, eyes still shut and sleeping. Harrie silently thanked Carol for wearing two separate garments to bed, making it far easier for her to slip down the short silk pants past her hips, past the angle of one knee and the straightened knee of the other leg, and finally past her feet onto the floor. Finally, Harrie could run the lightest of fingertips up the outside of Carol's legs, all the way up to her hips and looping back down through blonde curls and her inner thighs.
There might have been a faint whimper from Carol, but Harrie couldn't be certain. Harrie braced her hands around either side of Carol's hips and leaned forward, taking in her perfume before ultimately beginning steady swipes of her tongue.
Why couldn't every start of term begun this way? Harrie pondered.
She kept her hands still, wanting to wake Carol with the curl of her tongue or lips rather than her fingers. Harrie alternated between soft licks and gentle sucking, casually and gradually getting her to wake up. Moments after changing her method, delicate fingers weaved into Harrie's hair, letting her know that she was finally awake.
"Good morning," Carol whispered as she opened her eyes and looked down between her legs to see Harrie peering back up at her. Her fingers played with one of the curls, making Harrie smile in the process and change the pressure of her tongue against her. "Like that, just like that," she managed to say without shouting for all to hear. Her hips began to follow the motions of Harrie's tongue as she continued to get closer and closer.
Carol did everything she could to muffle the noises, covering her mouth with her arm so the sound of her erratic breathing couldn't possibly be heard by the neighbors. Her hips stopped moving, her hand in Harrie's hair stilled, her voice cracked and finally she moaned as she let go.
Harrie loved every second: how much she quivered at her touch, how she tasted, how Carol's legs felt closing around her cheeks. She lifted her head to let her recover, kissing the inside of her thighs and rubbing her hands against her stomach.
Carol brushed the loose strand of hair away from Harrie's face, stroking the top of her head back and forth. "You are so good at that." She pulled Harrie on top of her, relishing the weight of her body in all the right places.
"Why thank you," Harrie smugly offered, "and, might I add, you taste incredible this morning. Positively the best breakfast I've ever had."
"Do I?" Carol tilted her head up and pressed her lips to Harrie's. "I guess do," she laughed, "but to be fair, you have been feeding me all those fruit salads. Kind of feels like cheating."
"Nah, you're perfect." Harrie kissed her again and lifted herself slightly off her. "Say, you have class at nine. Don't you need to get up?"
"Yes, at eight."
"Carol, it's eight-thirty."
"What?" Harrie instinctively moved off her, knowing that Carol would get into panic mode as soon as she realized the time. "That damn clock." Carol peeled out of bed, pulling her camisole off and tossing it in the closet onto the floor next to some other dirty clothes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck… "
Harrie sat back on the bed and watched her mill about the room without any clothes on. She followed how she bent down to pick up socks, endlessly muttering a string of obscenities to herself, moved her arms to fling open drawers and the closet, but ultimately not taking any clothes out. As soon as Harrie noticed her behavior, she called out to her to stop. "Carol? Carol, honey?" Carol turned to look at Harrie. She'd never called her "honey" before; it made her smile and soothed some of her sudden anxiousness. "Go wash up. I'll get you something to wear and put out your books."
"Thank you," she said with a flustered look as she threw on her robe and rushed out the room.
Once Carol left for the bathroom, Harrie opened the closet to find a blouse and skirt. Everything was neatly arranged, the exact placement and order these same clothes had been back in Greenwich and in Boston. It was all so familiar now, and she knew the combinations Carol liked to wear. She pulled out what she needed from the closet, found a cardigan in a drawer, and pulled out Carol's beloved brown moccasins from under the bed. She wasn't sure about the rest though, finally pulling open the drawer with her undergarments. Looking inside, she liked everything she could see on (and off) Carol, but if she had to choose, the pale green set was prettiest. Harrie grabbed them from the drawer and placed them on the bed beside the other items she had chosen. And while it was still fairly warm outside, Harrie didn't know if she'd want socks or stockings. She put out both and found a garter belt, finally having everything Carol needed laid out and organized on the bed.
Turning her attention to the desk, Harrie picked up the copy of Carol's timetable to see what classes she had that morning. She made a face when she noticed that she had four classes in a row starting at nine, including French with Mademoiselle Fournier before lunch. She couldn't wait to hear how that went. Lastly, she picked up Carol's fountain pen to check the ink supply, and found that she must have already filled it the night before.
As she recapped the pen, Carol rushed back into the room. "Time?"
"Eight-forty-one."
"Goddamn it." Carol shrugged off her robe letting it fall and threw her towel over the side of the bed. Harrie remained seated at her desk, staying out of the way, watching Carol pull on the clothes she had laid out. "Thank you, Harriet, for getting all this together."
"It was nothing." She put her elbow on the desk then rested her head against her hand. "Can I be of any further help?"
"You could get my robe off the floor and hang up my towel." Harrie picked up the robe from the ground and walked to the closet looking for a spare hanger. The towel she placed across the metal frame of the foot of the bed, extending it as much as possible so it would dry and not have an entirely musty odor when Carol picked it up to use again. "And could you please help me? With the straps and my necklace?" Harrie turned back toward her, and reached up to adjust the straps of her bra as Carol finished clasping her stockings to the garters. From the desk, she picked up Carol's pearl necklace, something she hadn't seen her wear in months, and placed it around her neck.
Harrie walked around to face her, looking down to see how she looked and if the shoulders were too loose. "That good?"
Carol pulled up her skirt and zipped up the side, then shifted her shoulders back and forth. "Perfect." She kissed the tip of Harrie's nose, then scurried to the mirror to brush her hair and apply lipstick.
Harrie looked back to the clock; there were still at least five minutes before she absolutely needed to leave and she figured Carol would also need to leave around the same time as well. She stood back and watched as Carol carefully brushed her hair, dismayed by the wet edges of her hairline that she knew would make the ends of her hair frizzy later on. There was no use trying to dry them when she still needed to do other things.
"You don't need to wear any lipstick if you don't have time, Carol."
"But I want to."
"I'm not wearing any."
"Yes, but you don't have to spend an hour with Mademoiselle Fournier. I have a reputation now, minette."
"That's true," she laughed, "but if I'm being perfectly frank, I chose to not wear any lipstick today because I knew I'd be coming over here to kiss you - "
"More than kiss… "
"That was an impromptu diversion." Harrie grinned. "And I didn't want it to get too smudged otherwise I'd be spending today's classes worrying if I got lipstick on my teeth or somewhere near my nose."
Carol frowned. "You make me sound like a sloppy kisser."
"You're definitely not, gorgeous. You're the tenderest, gentlest kisser." Harrie darted over to the bed and picked up Carol's blouse and sweater. "Here, I gotta get going."
"Wait! I'm - "
"Come on then, slowpoke."
Carol quickly put on her lipstick, applied the faintest touch of perfume to her wrists and neck, and finally put on her blouse and cardigan. She grabbed her pen and books from the desk, immediately making her way to the door where Harrie stood.
"Hang on!" Harrie stilled her, grasping each arm with her own hands and keeping her from moving any further away. "Your hair looks lovely, your lips look kissable, your collar - let's fix that - " Harrie lifted her hands to re-fold and flatten her collar. "There." She lifted Carol's hand to inspect her nails. "Your nails: perfectly Jungle Red."
"All good?"
"All good." Harrie kissed her cheek, not wanting to disrupt the lipstick Carol had so carefully put on despite running late. "Let's go."
"Wait!" Carol called out before Harrie made it to the door. "Go wash your face. Your… " With one of her nicely manicured fingers, she lifted Harrie's chin and swiped a finger across it.
Harrie blushed as she held open the bedroom door and the two scurried out, with Harrie rushing off to the bathroom to quickly splash some water on her face. Running down the steps and out the front door as fast as they could.
"Good luck today."
"Same to you." Harrie stopped once they reached where their paths deviated. "Will I see you later?"
"I'm not sure. I have tennis this afternoon."
"And I'm playing cricket with the other girls."
Carol laughed. "I love how you don't have to do afternoon sport anymore, yet you choose to."
"Well, it's not like there's an abundance of cricket players out there. The school year is essentially the only opportunity I have."
"I'll come cheer you on then if I finish early enough." Carol struggled with her books, reminding herself that she needed to get to class. "I have to go."
"I love you," Harrie faintly said.
With a wink and a smile, Carol was off, turning to look over her shoulder and whisper back, "Love you too."
8:15 p.m.
As Carol sat in the common room, waiting for the water to boil for her tea, she wished it wasn't so late so she could go to the diner for coffee and doughnuts with Harrie. Not that she really needed coffee so late at night, even if only so they could sit together and talk. Some other girls from her Old Masters class sat around, drinking tea and chatting with one another; and Carol was pretty sure she knew what they were talking about too. How could this possibly be happening so early into the semester? Could they at least wait more than four hours after the last class of the first day back?
"Come join us, Carol."
"Yeah, Sylvia made cookies," another piped in.
Inwardly groaning and outwardly smiling, Carol joined the other five girls sitting on the sofas by the fireplace, her cup of tea carefully poised on the saucer with a spoon and two sugars she was waiting to add. She debated making her excuses, especially after having four classes and enough reading and assignments to start up as soon as possible.
"Marie here was telling us about her boyfriend."
Carol took a sip of tea, purposely scorching her tongue on the boiling liquid to keep herself from saying too much of anything.
"Well, there's not much to say about Rob, he's such a gentleman and so sweet."
Carol thought back to the appalling stories Harriet told her about some of her former roommates and fought cracking a smile. "I bet," she muttered under her breath as she thought back to that one tale. She shouldn't have even tried to say anything at all, but she couldn't help herself and it was therapeutic for her, even mutter things like that under her breath to break the tension she felt over these types of situations.
"He takes me to the movies, and comes over to the house for dinner with my family - oh, and if they don't just adore him to pieces!"
Lost in her thoughts of the past summer, Carol mindlessly sat with the others, drinking her tea and pretending to listen to their stories. Sometimes, she nodded her head or would murmur "uh huh" when she heard more than one girl agree with something sometime head said. They didn't know she wasn't paying any attention.
"How about you, Carol? You have a beau?"
Before she could answer, Carol took another sip of tea, realizing that she had already nearly finished her cup in trying to keep a straight face through all of the conversation she had so happily been trying to avoid and pay no attention to. But these girls wanted to know. They wanted the details for whatever reason. True, they had willingly shared with her, despite her not caring about whatever they had to say; regardless, at that point, she realized that she had three viable choices in explanation.
One, she could be completely truthful and say that she didn't have a boyfriend. It was the easiest and shortest possible reply, but it was an open-ended answer and one that would most likely lead to the other girls in the hall trying to fix her up with one of their snooty brothers or their boyfriend's chum who just happened to be single, but wasn't really single, only looking for a girl who would put out. She didn't really want to find herself in the position of having to go on a date - or worse, a double date - with one of these girls and two strange boys. In the long run, it would be more difficult to get out of going on a date and having to see the other girl every single day to say no to than saying she didn't have a boyfriend. So that option was out.
Two, she could simply talk endlessly about Harrie without actually disclosing her sex to the curious girls in the room. Carol could talk about how they spent a good part of the summer together going to the beach, attending the World's Fair, having picnics, spending time with each other's families. She could talk about how they kissed and got pretty heated a few times; however, that had incredible potential to go terribly, terribly wrong in the long run. Carol had friends from Miss Porter's there, friend who knew she lived with her grandparents and did occasionally drop by for a brief visit, although that luckily only happened while her immediate family had been visiting.
Three, and the worst of all in her opinion, but the one that would really get all of them off her back was to say that she was going with Harge. Well, she wasn't, but they would have no way of knowing him and their situation, and they definitely wouldn't pressure her to go on dates or try to fix her up with one of their friends if that were the case. The friends from Miss Porter's already knew about him anyhow from her coming out party, so if word got around, it wouldn't be a complete surprise to anyone. Harge did ask if he could visit her at school some time, so the day was bound to come where he would pop up, or hopefully have the decency to let her know in advance that he was visiting. And Harge was an older man, not some boy like the others these girls were dating; they wouldn't question her in the slightest over someone like him. Sure, they would want details about their relationship, but no one would make up this kind of story.
"There's a… man… I have been corresponding with for a few months now."
"A man?" Marie asked.
"Yes, he's twenty-six and works in real estate."
"Twenty-six? Wow."
"'Corresponding'?"
"I met him at my coming out party in December and we saw each other a couple of times over the summer. He's been writing to me as well."
"What's his name?"
"Hargess, er… Harge."
"What the hell kind of name is Harge?"
Carol rolled her eyes and tried her best to keep in a chuckle. At least one of them had a sense of humor about it. It was a silly name afterall. "A family name, I guess. I don't know, we haven't gotten as far as discussing the significance of our names," she dryly answered.
"How far did you get?"
Ugh, did they really have to ask that sort of thing, Carol winced. Again, there was the truth of the matter and it wasn't completely boring. She figured that some of the girls might consider her a prude for her response, but she really didn't care. Not when she knew what it was like to be loved, and naked and entangled in the arms of another woman who had the prettiest dimples, the smoothest skin, the softest hair, and the most delicious - "He's kissed me on the cheek. That's it."
She had to keep herself from thinking too much about Harrie without blurting it all out for them to hear.
"That's it?" Sylvia asked with a disappointed look on her face.
She looked around the room at the other girls, all attentively hanging onto every word she said. What was going on here? Why were they so terribly starved for details? "Yeah, that's it." Carol did her best to sound exasperated at being asked such a question, but she didn't want to sound snobbish.
"Oh. Well, are you two engaged?"
Carol glanced down at her hand. She didn't wear a ring on her finger, there was no tan line from having ever worn a ring, why would they ask such a question? Were they not in the least observant? "No, we're not engaged. We're not anything really, only he… writes to me. Oh, and he may come up here to see me during the year. I don't know."
"Well, he sounds like a keeper, Carol!"
All she could do was smile and politely excuse herself from the room, telling them she needed to get to her reading for the next day. Once the bedroom door was shut, she retreated to the corner of her bed, wedged against the side of the wall and the bookcase at the foot of the bed with her copy of Pierre et Jean, shaking her head and fondly thinking of the curly-haired brunette studying in her room across campus.
Sunday, October 8th, 1939
1:45 p.m.
Carol put one of the blankets on the ground, ungracefully plopped down, flinging off her hat which fell somewhere nearby in the grass. She lay down with her arms outstretched above her head and smiled up at the sky, enjoying the beautiful cloud-free sky and the leaves that were at their peak of change. Harrie looked around them, still holding the picnic basket in her hand, and quickly settled in to join her on the blanket.
"Don't let your hat blow away."
"It's fine." She waved her hand without looking over at the hat caught up in the grass.
"You better go get it, or I'll have to buy you one of those terrible hats like in Ninotchka."
"We're both far too tall for that hat."
"Carol, we'd look positively ridiculous."
"Yes, you might be too tall it, but I think you'd look elegant."
Harrie shook her head in disbelief. "That's not for me." As she settled onto the blanket, Harrie curled herself into the crook of Carol's arm, letting Carol wrap her arms around her. The moment she felt Carol's arms around her, Harrie contentedly sighed. "This is more me."
"Have you heard from Sid and James?"
"They're in Toronto now with my uncle, although I think they'll be up there a while… with the car, " Harrie replied. "They send their love. James greatly misses dancing with you because Sid will never stop stepping on his toes."
They spent the next half-hour talking about their week, how classes had been going, the assignments that needed completion by Thanksgiving, and what was happening with Harrie's family. There were no recent updates from her father, but he knew she would be back to school by then, so all she could do was patiently wait for any kind of an answer.
After a long pause, Carol asked about Harrie's graduate school applications and if she needed any help with those.
"You don't need to read about what I intend to do with atoms, polymers and quantum theory."
"I still don't know what any of that means," Carol lamented. "You didn't specify, but where are you applying to do your Master's?"
Harrie lifted herself up to look into Carol's eyes as she spoke. "Berkeley. They have one of the best chemistry programs and a top-notch research facility there."
"California?"
"Yeah."
"Oh." Carol took an extra moment to examine the plaid pattern of the blanket they lay on and play with the fringe of the wool trim. Her heart sunk a little, she couldn't deny that. California was thousands of miles away, just as far away as her father was. What would happen if they only saw each other once or twice a year?
"Are you upset? You seem upset."
"No, no. You - you need to do what's best for you and all."
Carol didn't realize it until that moment, but the first couple weeks back at school had been difficult for her. She had become so accustomed to waking up next to Harrie, starting the day with a kiss, having breakfast together in bed, spending the evenings listening to the radio, doing the crossword puzzle, dancing in the drawing room whenever the moment arose, even simple things like cleaning the house, doing laundry or making dinner together. She missed all of that. There was always studying and going to the movies, but that wasn't the same as the rapport of them actually living together like they had.
"I've been planning on going there since, well… since I started college and heard about their program. Lately though, with the war, California seems really far away from everything and everyone though."
Maybe the daily separation now, during the academic year, would be good for her, for both of them, particularly if by this time next year, they might actually find themselves being apart for a truly long period of time.
"You don't have to explain, Harriet. I understand."
"I don't want you to think, I don't… " Harrie sat up and pulled her legs beneath her skirt to stay warm, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Why do you think I've been asking what you want to do after college?" she gingerly asked.
"Oh, I have thought about it. Actually, I've been seriously thinking about it the past few weeks."
"My art historian," Harrie cooed. Carol reached up to swipe a strand of hair from Harrie's eyes, warmly looking at her. "You know, Stanford has an excellent art history department - you could try there."
Carol stroked her cheek, letting her thumb graze along her jawbone down to her chin. "Where's that?"
"South of San Francisco," Harrie replied. She could see Carol's mind beginning to think it all through. "There are trains, streetcars, and ferries all over, so it'd be no problem getting around. I kind of like the idea of traveling places by boat."
Harrie laid back down on the blanket, burrowing against Carol's side, and stretched out her legs to kick off her shoes as she got comfortable. "We could get one of those neglected Edwardian homes in San Francisco and fix it up. I trust you with all the decorating, picking out the furniture, making it a home - you have really good taste in things like that - and I can start painting the walls and getting it overall ready over the next couple years until you join me. You can come over next summer and see how it's coming along even. We can make that home our 'isle of joy.'"
Carol also removed her shoes and rolled herself on top of Harrie, straddling her hips and placing her hands on her shoulders. "I'll have to think about it."
"Hmm, I like when you're on top of me like this."
"I know you do." Carol slyly grinned. Harrie grasped Carol's hand and placed it by the hem of her skirt. She slipped her hand upward and let out a feigned cry of disapproval. "Why, Miss Lovell!"
"Hmm?"
"You're full of surprises today."
"I don't know to which surprise you're referring, my dear. Just wrap that blanket around us. I'm chilly." Carol picked up the corner and draped it over her shoulders, cocooning them with in a pleasant warmth.
"No wonder you're cold. Better now?" she asked as she roamed her fingers along the inside of Harrie's upper thighs, up and down, dawdling as she slid along wet, sticky skin to where she needed her most.
"Much better."
"I hate that this is all we have right now," sighed Harrie as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. "Sorry I fell asleep. Guess I got too relaxed."
Carol nuzzled beneath Harrie's ear and kissed up and down the side of her neck. "At least we got to wake up together."
"How many weekends away are you allowed again? I can't remember that long ago."
"I get four."
"Only four?" Harrie said with a grimace. "Perhaps in a couple weeks we can go to Worcester or Boston for the weekend?"
"I'd like that."
"I'll make the arrangements then," Harrie winked.
Carol started to roll herself off, then stopped herself. "Wait a minute. A couple weeks? No, I'll make those arrangements. I won't have my sweetie plan her own birthday weekend. Certainly not your twenty-first."
Harrie tightly gripped onto Carol's hips to keep her still and leaned up to kiss her. When Carol raised her head to take a breath, Harrie playfully rolled the two of them over so Carol was beneath her, the two of them still all wrapped up together in the blanket. She let out a shriek as soon as she felt herself fall over onto her back and as soon as she was down, Harrie again pressed her lips to hers. "Ah, so you remembered?"