Going Home

by LZClotho
οΎ© 1999

Chapter 41

Melinda awakened to the early sounds of morning. Braying donkeys, clucking chickens, snorting pigs and a gaggle of geese, she thought, ticking the sounds off.

Then there was a quiet intermittent trickling sound. Her brow furrowed as she tried to identify whether it was inside or outside the Toval home. A glance at the window showed the early sunlight sparkling through a dew-covered window, but it was not raining.

She shifted the sheet on her shoulder and slowly rose up, scanning the room. Behind a screen she saw shadows shift and her tired brain realized why Janice was no longer in bed with her.

The trickling sound came again. A peace settled over Mel as she pulled herself from the bed along with the sheet, wrapping it snugly around her nude form. Brushing her hands through her hair, she walked to the screen.

Peering around the edge, her smile widened even more as she caught a glimpse of Janice's muscular arm curved over her tanned back, squeezing water and soap from a sponge. Wet blonde hair, darkened to a russet from the water, matted on her shoulders.

The archaeologist turned her head to push her hair aside and green eyes, the lush green of a grassy field back home, caught Melinda staring. "So, you're finally awake." Janice's voice was a soft burr.

Melinda offered to wash Janice's back as she entered the private area. "Good morning," she replied and took the sponge over Janice's back as the blonde flexed her arms and braced herself on the tub's sides half out of the water.

"Oh yeah, it is that," came Janice's answer as she reveled in the light scratching sensations that sparked her quieted senses. With a splash she rinsed and then rose to her feet. "Pass me a towel," she asked, turning around.

Having backed up so she wouldn't get wet, eyes fixed on her partner, and now distracted by the water trails falling from Janice's body, Melinda did not immediately register the request. Finally she mechanically reached for the towel flung over the screen's top. "Here." Stepping from the tub, Janice looked up at her. Mel backed up to let her pass. "Have you been up long?"

Janice considered if she should tell the brunette the truth. She seemed a little skittish this morning herself. Janice had stayed awake comforting Mel to sleep after their second rather exploratory joining.

Much more than their bodies had joined though and for all the words she had used to tell Mel how she felt about their whirlwind attraction, there were dozens more inexpressible. It had grown from flashes of warmth, blossoming from little things, unconscious gestures really. From the ready acknowledgment of her hurt by the officious maitre'd in Macedonia to the silent understanding about Janice's claustrophobia. Then the warm spot would heat at times like Melinda's intervention with Bristol, holding the man at gunpoint without looking as shaky as she must have felt. She helped, and did it without putting Janice into a position less than independent.

It had turned to love when Melinda revealed that she, Janice, meant more than the Scrolls.

Never in her life had she been more important than that.

The revelation smacked her in the head and set her to reevaluating, which had kept her up, arms wrapped around Mel's shoulders and her chin resting in the woman's dark hair. Each breath filled her more deeply with awe at the scent of their love. And she grew a little afraid as time passed in silence too.

So the faintest beginning of the sunrise had driven her from bed to wash away the signs of her sleepless night before Mel could see.

She looked up now into Mel's patient gaze, realizing the silence had stretched on as the color changed from a light sky-blue to the warm interested sea-blue. With a faint smile, she finally said, "Just a little while. Long enough for a bath." She gestured. "Want to borrow it?"

Leaving Mel behind the screen, Janice listened to the sounds of the brunette stepping into the tub. She caught the deep quick intake of breath as Melinda sank into the cooled water with a slosh.

Expecting the Southerner to say something, to call her on her story, Janice had paused with her hands on the bedspread as she straightened it. But the sounds of splashing and quick movements followed instead. Then she heard Mel call, "Could I have a towel?"

Janice looked around and tucked her own towel in at the edge before snatching up a soft orange towel from a table near the door. She rounded the screen to find Melinda just standing, water sluicing off her hair and body. "Courtesy of Carmen," she quipped, shaking it out and passing it to the brunette.

Melinda said nothing as she took the offering. Toweling off her face she then pulled it across her chest and looked at Janice leaning against the wall. She opened her mouth but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Senoritas, I have a change of clothes for you."

Janice looked to Mel who said in a frank, low voice, "We have to come up with some way to properly repay this woman." Janice nodded and went to open the door.

The Spanish woman entered quickly when she saw Janice clad only in a towel and shut the door. "I brought a few more things so you have something to wear home."

Barely covered by her towel, since it stopped just at the top of her thighs, Melinda rounded the screen. "Senora Toval, here are the dresses we borrowed last night." She picked them up from the foot of the bed and brought them forward.

"Keep them."

"No, please. We will purchase something-" Janice responded.

"I will not hear of it," Carmen insisted. "What little money you have cannot possibly obtain all that you need." She shook her head. "No. The dresses are yours. When would I wear them again?" She put her hands on her hips and stared both women down, despite her diminutive size and smile.

"Vega," Janice tried.

"My daughter prefers newer styles, more flash." Deciding that ended the discussion, Carmen pressed the clothes into Janice's hands.

"Give us your address at least so that we can return them?" Janice suggested.

She shook her head and turned, dismayed, toward the door.

Melinda thought quickly. "We'll come up with something else," she whispered to Janice. "Senora, please. Wait."

Carmen turned, her hand gripping the side of the door. "Si?"

"Muchas gracias, Senora," they said together. "We are poor guests to seem ungrateful," Melinda added.

"We're sorry," Janice concluded.

"Aiyee, this new independence. My daughter, she suffers it too," Carmen lamented with a dramatic flip of her hand. "It is hard, I know." She smiled and changed the subject. "There will be food when you come down."

Melinda quickly nodded. "We'll be right there."

"Dressed please," she clucked with a scandalized tone. "My sons are not eunuchs."

Stunned, Janice and Melinda did not laugh until after Carmen had swiftly let herself out and they both heard the door firmly click shut in the silence.

Chapter 42

Dark haired and smiling warmly, Stefano stood at the bottom of the stairs when Janice and Melinda came down for the meal. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully taking the hand of each woman and escorting her the last step.

Vega looked up from where she was finishing arranging a place at the table. "You missed a wonderful match," she gushed, running over to Janice's side.

Melinda caught the frown on Stefano's face as his gaze trailed over Janice who stepped down to the floor in front of him but was immediately caught up by his sister. "Good morning, Stefano."

He turned away from watching Vega and Janice and smiled at her. "You look well rested," he commented politely. Offering his hand, he took hers and gallantly kissed it, then shot a glance over his shoulder, and frowned again. When Melinda followed his gaze, she realized what was wrong.

Janice was in conversation with Vega as the two went into the kitchen, their backs toward the room. Mel looked back at Stefano to see him working up the words to ask a question. His face, boyishly smooth despite his 24 years, was partway between chagrin and disinterest as he struggled. They walked together to the table and he never managed to ask the question as Vega, Janice and Carmen pushed through the door in quick succession, carrying serving platters.

The smells of sausage, warm fresh bread, eggs and grape juice filled the air. The platters were set down on the table and it seemed the signal for chatter to begin among the Toval children.

Vega, sitting and serving herself from the eggs, looked across to where Melinda had settled and watched Janice claim the seat to her left. "Did you sleep well, Melinda?" Her mouth currently occupied with sipping from her mug of grape juice, Mel could only nod. "Sergio won his match last night. I'm sorry you could not see it."

"What did you do after the bullfight?" Janice interjected, while passing the bread to Stefano who had taken up the seat at her end of the table, between her and his mother. "Mel and I found the street musicians and dancing."

Stefano passed the bread platter on to his mother and mused, "Really? We headed there afterward, so Vega and Sergio could meet up again, and didn't see you."

Turning to Stefano, Melinda put her hand on the top of Janice's chair, and responded, "We actually didn't stay long. We came back here after walking out toward the bluffs and watching the moonrise."

Disanto, nibbling on a sausage, put down his fork and asked, "So, did you like our fiesta?" His voice drew Melinda's gaze.

"What was it for anyway?" Janice asked, looking to each of the Tovals. "Anniversary of our beginning," Vega supplied. "Two thousand years ago a pair of fishing families blew ashore here, wrecking their boats. So they settled, married locals and continued fishing."

"Do they teach the history in school here?"

Carmen nodded, but pointed out an altogether more fascinating reason. "We are directly descended from the first families."

"They must be ancestors of the entire area. Two thousand years is a lot of generations."

"You know a lot about history then?" Stefano asked now that Janice had spoken again.

"I hope I do. I'm an archaeologist. I specialize in Mediterranean cultures."

Melinda smiled and nodded. "Ancient Greece holds her attention right now."

Janice looked over and concurred. "In fact we just finished an excavation near Thermopylae."

Carmen, who had been sitting quietly, finally asked, "We never did ask what you do. Ancient history? And you, Melinda?"

"I read the texts, or carvings, found at the sites. I'm a translator."

Janice looked up briefly and shared a quick smile with Melinda. "This was actually our first joint excavation."

"Have you been to many places?" Vega asked.

"I have been to a few. Greece, Turkey, Romania, Italy, Bulgaria. I have a few plans laid for a trip to the Caspian Sea, Western China, and India later. My research takes me all over."

"The troubles in Germany, France and Belgium must make traveling to some of these places difficult," Disanto pointed out, then dug back into his plate.

"Yes, it has made a few changes to our plans." She looked at Carmen. "Is Spain under occupation anywhere?"

The older woman paused and shook her head. "Not yet. We had a few Spanish on the occasional sunken ship, but nothing has been directed against Spain." She picked up her juice mug and sipped briefly. "So we remain safe, for now."

"I hope it continues that you miss Hitler's attention," Janice replied sincerely.

Vega looked to her mother, silently indicating her empty plate. When Carmen nodded, she stood and cleared her plate. Before she walked away, she asked Janice, "Have you met any Nazis on your trips?"

Melinda and Janice thought about that a moment. "No, I don't think we have. We've met a few people with unusual... agendas, but I don't think we've met any Nazis. Why?"

"Because I read about them, and want to know more. They are nationalists, right?"

"For Germany. Hitler says-" Janice paused in a way to indicate she didn't always put much stock in Hitler's propaganda. "He says that he wants all Germans united under Germany's flag."

"The Spanish aren't Germans, so we are likely safe," Stefano supposed. Janice put a hand on his shoulder, which he studied with interest while she spoke. "I hope you're right. But I don't know."

The conversation trailed to silence on that sour note and Janice pulled her hand from Stefano's shoulder. Returning her attention to her own food, she finished, but when she started to her feet, she felt a gentle hand lightly press on her right thigh. Glancing at Melinda, she caught the slightest shake of the dark head.

Immediately she stilled and reached for the grape juice. "I think I'll have another glass."

Stefano quickly intercepted her hands as he had been starting to his feet as well, and poured the juice. "Anything else?" he asked, his eyes lingering on Janice, but then reluctantly he passed his gaze over the others at the table.

Carmen smiled at him. "I think it's time for the table to clear. There is work to be done around this house," she said finally, pushing to her own feet with a soft scrape of the chair's legs. To Melinda and Janice she said, "You may sit for a while. When you are ready, Stefano will take you to the airport."

"How far?" Janice asked.

"An hour. Not much. Your plane was likely headed to this one anyway, so you will be getting back on the path to home." She paused, with the sausage tray in one hand and the egg platter, both empty, in each hand. "Where's home?"

Janice looked to Melinda who answered, "I live in North Carolina. It's on the eastern coast of the United States."

Carmen nodded. "Is it a nice place?"

"North Carolina? Well, yes, it's very nice. My family has a farm-" Janice interrupted Mel with a chuckle that made her pause. "A big farm there."

Vega asked, "Does it get cold?"

"Yes. We get lots of snow every year. We usually get the first just after Thanksgiving."

Disanto questioned, "Thanksgiving?"

Melinda smiled. "It's our festival of founding," she replied simply. "Late November."

Disanto came out of the kitchen and went to the back door, picking up a pair of gloves. "We need more firewood," he told his mother. "The woodbin's nearly empty."

Janice pulled Melinda into the kitchen as Carmen followed. "We'll help with the dishes, Senora Toval. It's the least we can do."

"You shouldn't."

"We want to."

Stefano and Vega remarked that the task would go quickly with the four of them working, and Carmen retreated. "I have sewing to do."

"Where should we leave our things?" Melinda asked.

"Keep them," she reminded them. "You have need of the clothes."

"But-" Janice protested, tying an apron around her waist so the dress was protected.

"No, please. Accept them," Stefano insisted for his mother. "It has been some time since we had guests who shared so much of themselves."

Melinda and Janice began sorting the dishes on the sideboard and filling the sink with soapy water, and Vega stood ready to rinse while Stefano found a towel for drying. Vega changed the subject to Sergio's performance at the bullfight, much to Melinda's chagrin.