Constance:
"Maura, no!" Her cry made her seven-year-old jump, her hand rapidly retreating from the still hot curling iron that rested on the bathroom counter. "What are you thinking? Do you want to hurt yourself?"
Maura's eyes welled up, her hands knotted in front of her stomach. "I wanted my hair to look like yours." Her head fell, her eyes looking at the floor. It made Constance's heart break.
Walking forward, she attempted to soften her tone, plugging in the curling iron and tapping her child on the shoulder. "Next time, just ask for help." It was more blunt than she meant, but in the long run, was a lesson Maura needed to learn. "I would be happy to help you curl your hair like mine." The iron on a low heat setting, she wrapped a section of honey blonde hair around the barrel. Maura's hair curled easier than hers, so it didn't take long for her to have loose ringlets bouncing on her shoulders. Maura was quiet the entire time Constance fiddled with her hair, her hands tapping a rhythm on the sides of her legs. When Constance was satisfied, she turned Maura towards her, twirling the last ringlet around her finger. "All done. Now go pick out a dress."
Maura's hands came up to touch the navy blue strap of her mother's dress. "Is this what you're wearing?"
"Yes. Now go pick out your dress, we don't have much time." This spurred the young girl into action, and she dashed from the bathroom, her feet hitting the floor with a heavy thud as she ran down the hall.
As Maura frantically dressed, Constance switched over her purse and spoke on the phone with the gallery director, apologizing for the need to bring her daughter. "She is very well behaved, you won't even notice she is there." The woman on the other end seemed annoyed, but consented to the added person. As if Constance had any control over the nanny falling ill, or her husband's busy schedule. She yelled down the hall for her daughter one last time. "Maura! We need to leave, now!"
"Coming, Mother!" After a few moments, the young girl appeared in a navy blue dress of her own, and little pink heels. Her dress had short sleeves, and buttons down the front, but the color matched Constance's almost exactly.
"Maura, dear, what happened to your black shoes?"
The you girl's shoulders dropped and she shuffled her feet. "They don't fit. I know I don't match." It was futile to ask her to put on a pink dress instead. She wanted to match her mother, not her shoes, and they were running late.
Constance let out a sigh, but beckoned her daughter to come closer. "Regardless, we don't have time for you to change. Come along." Her daughter grinned, and clomped along behind her, reaching a hand out to walk with her mother.
Art installations always put Constance out of her mind. There was a lot going on, many people to talk to, pieces to sell, and she always seemed to lose track of time. Thankfully, Maura managed to stay close, always within reach, yet silent for the most part. She had always been a shy child, and large groups of strangers could make her anxious. So she stayed close to the one person she knew, and focused on the art pieces she could see.
When the event started to die down, Constance placed her hands on Maura's shoulders and looked up at the piece she was admiring. It almost reached the ceiling, with splatters of red, green, and orange prominently featured. "What do you think of this one, dear?"
The girl leaned back into her mother. "I like it."
"Why?"
There was a moment of silence before she answered. "The colors. They make me happy."
Before Constance could answer, someone walked behind them and tapped her on the shoulder. "Can I get a photo for the newspaper?"
Both of them turned, Constance nodding in the affirmative before walking towards better lighting. "Of course. Maura, stand right there for a moment, dear."
The photographer flashed a soft smile and addressed the girl, who tried her best to put on a brave face as she stood alone. "Hi, sweetie. Do you want to be in the picture with your Mom?" Maura nodded, but waited for her mother to hold out her hands. Constance knelt down and put her arm around Maura's back, careful not to crush her curls. "Beautiful!" The photographer gushed as she sapped a few photos. "Beautiful like your Mama."
"You think I look like her?" The seven year old beamed, turning to face her mother with excitement.
"Absolutely. You even dressed alike." The photographer grinned as she lowered her camera. "I used to dress like my Mom, too." She turned her attention to Constance. "I can get one of just you, if you'd like."
"I think what you have will do. Thank you." She rubbed her hand in circles on Maura's back, who was still beaming from the photographer's compliment.
"She said I look like you, Mom." Her body thrummed with energy. She didn't hear it too often. Most often they guessed that Maura must take after her father, when in reality, she didn't look like him either.
Constance twirled a loosening ringlet around her fingers, meeting Maura's eyes with pride. "She did." She took her daughter's hand in hers. "It's time to head home."
"You aren't usually the type for nostalgia, Connie." Her husband's voice pulled her out of her thoughts, the newspaper clipping of her and a young Maura dropping back into the box. He sat at the table next to her, picking up a picture at random. "I don't remember this one." He passed it over to her, looking for an explanation. Here, Maura was around four, a handful of weeds in her hands, the strap of her yellow dress falling off her shoulder.
"I don't remember this one, either." It pained her to admit it, but she didn't remember a lot of the photos that were currently spread on their dining room table. "I think that the Nanny might have taken this." She moved the photo to the left and picked up another. Maura with bulky safety glasses on, her Halloween costume when she was nine. She laughed as she passed it to Arthur, making a note to put it aside.
"I don't remember this either." His voice was quiet as he sat it down.
"You aren't the only one that missed her life, Arthur." She picked up another unrecognizable picture, with a two-year-old Maura dancing toward the camera. "But we can be there for her now." She reached for that picture with the safety goggles, placing it in a small pile with similar photos.
"So what brought all this on?" Arthur had started gathering piles of photos, leaning back in the dining room chair as he looked at each one.
"Maura's friend, Jane, sent me an email. She needs pictures of Maura as a child, with a preference for 'especially geeky and sciency pictures, please'. I think she said something about a slideshow for a party." Jane was a frequent subject as she worked on reconnecting with her daughter. Maura was always describing some new joke Jane told, or filling her in on the latest Jane gossip. It was clear the woman was a big part of their daughter's life. "You would like Jane, I think. She's very direct, a straight shooter, but very protective and understanding of Maura. They're a good fit." She grabbed her husband's hand, shot him a knowing glance, and pulled the photo of Maura with a ribbon from the science fair off the top of his pile.
It seemed to take a moment for Arthur to get it, but when he did, his eyes widened and he lowered his pile of pictures. "Wait. You don't thinkā¦"
"I do."
His brows furrowed as he processed the information. "But she never showed any indication that she might be interested in females."
Constance let out a breath as she picked up her own pile. "I'm not sure that's true." At his puzzled expression, she continued. "Do you remember when Maura came home for her first Thanksgiving break? We were all sitting for dinner, and Maura was going on and on about Biology." She could picture it perfectly, Arthur at the head of the table with a journal open as they ate, while she tried to dab at a cranberry stain on the front of her shirt. Maura was looking in Arthur's direction as she spoke. "She was rattling off facts about all the species they had seen homosexual relationships in. Mammals, birds, fish, she had an example for just about everything. And I made a mistake." Arthur raised his eyebrows, his pile lowering completely as he gave her his full attention. "I asked her what she was trying to tell us. And it came out so harsh, I think she thought we wouldn't approve." Maura protected herself the only way she knew how. She shut down the topic, moving to something else, refusing to be swayed. "I have found out from a source that Maura experimented in college, and she may not have hated it."
"Is that source Jane?"
This made Constance chuckle. "No, Jane doesn't tell me anything Maura doesn't want me to know. Jane's mother told me."
"Wait, how does Jane's mother fit into all of this?"
Constance put her pile of photos down, focusing on her husband. "Angela lives with Maura. They have a good relationship." A relationship she was envious of. But she was trying to do better. "Every time I see her, I try to drop hints about how open-minded I can be, but she isn't picking up on them."
This had Arthur laughing, his baritone bouncing off the walls. "You can't drop hints with Maura, Connie. You have to ask her directly."
"Well how do you suggest I do that? 'Angela told me about your ex-girlfriend, Sam, and now I want to talk with you about her?'"
"Sam?" He stopped laughing, eyes wide, and grabbed her hand. "She talked about Sam, I remember that."
"She talked about Sam in very gender neutral terms. And then stopped, probably whenever they broke up."
They both took some time to take it all in. Constance started putting the photos she wasn't sending Jane back into the box. Arthur's voice made her pause. "Has she dated other women since then? I feel like I've heard about a few guys."
"I don't know."
Arthur started adding photos to the box, looking at a few of them along the way. "What makes you think she is interested in Jane that way?"
She took her time to answer, thinking about what she had noticed as they worked toward rebuilding their relationship. "Well, she trusts Jane completely. And they understand each other. Both drop everything for each other, Maura even cancelled a night out with me because Jane needed her. And you know what I learned from that Thanksgiving night all those years ago?"
"I think you'll tell me."
"I learned how to listen to Maura. Really listen. To watch her face when she talks, to figure out the meaning behind her words. And I'm telling you, she has deep feelings for Jane."
Her husband was silent, holding onto the last picture, his eyes fixated on the young woman speaking at her high school graduation. "So what's the next step?"
"Keep up with her, regain her trust. I hope one day she can talk to me the same way she can talk to Angela, or Jane." Arthur regarded her answer with a nod of his head. He rose from the table and walked toward the front door. "Where are you going?"
He returned a half minute later with his briefcase, and pulled his phone out of the side pocket. "I'm going to reach out. I want to be around when she tells you."
Maura didn't answer. She hadn't spoken to Arthur in years, and never wanted to talk to Constance about it. But he was making an effort, as was she. It gave her some hope that their relationship would mend along the way.
