Fic - Hair - In Waiting - 2/2
Crissy’s mother is waiting for her when she walks into the house the next morning. Crissy tries to slip past her, but her mother grabs her arm, holds her there.
“What?” Crissy asks.
“Jeanie’s upstairs,” her mother says. “She’s been crying for hours. She won’t say anything to me. Please, just go and talk to her. I think it must be the baby.”
Crissy does shake her mother off then, rushes up the stairs taking them two at a time. She bursts into Linda’s room, but it’s empty. She rushes down the hall into her own room and finds Jeanie curled up in her bed.
“What is it?” Crissy gasps, kneeling beside the bed. Her finger’s slide over Jeanie’s damp cheeks, across her wet eyelids. “What happened? Is it the baby?”
Jeanie shakes her head, sniffles into Crissy’s pillow.
“John?” Crissy asks.
“It’s Claude,” Jeanie says, and Crissy breathes a small sigh of relief.
“You’ve gotta try to get over him, Jeanie,” Crissy says gently. “You’ve just gotta.”
“No,” Jeanie says. “It’s not - he’s been drafted.”
“Oh,” Crissy says. She’s not sure what else to say.
**
Crissy dreams about Claude in the war. They’re all there, the entire tribe in battle gear and Jeanie sits in the middle of the scene, screaming with a baby in her arms. Crissy rushes toward her, jumping over bodies slumped against the ground, pushing people out of her way. Berger grabs her around the middle, pulls her away from Jeanie, presses her to the ground while bullets whiz by somewhere over his head. When it gets quiet again she pushes him off of her and picks herself up, lunges the last hundred feet to where Jeanie is hunched. The baby is crying and Jeanie holds him against her breast. Claude’s head is in her lap and he doesn’t look hurt, there’s no blood, but his eyes are closed like he’s sleeping.
“He said he loves me,” Jeanie cries. She hands the baby to Crissy and shakes Claude. “Wake up, baby. Wake up!”
Berger is holding a sword like some sort of medieval knight and he stands over them, his hair curling into his face in damp ringlets.
“He’s okay,” Berger says. “I saved him, right?”
Crissy stares at the baby in her arms. His hair is tiny wisps of blond and his eyes are dark brown like Jeanie’s, like John’s. He’s beautiful and as she watches he stops crying and reaches a tiny hand for her face.
“Whose baby is that?” Berger asks, looking over her shoulder. “Where did it come from?”
“It’s Jeanie’s,” Crissy says. When she looks down at Jeanie, she’s lying against Claude, her mouth open and her eyes glassy.
“No!” Crissy screams. She shoves the baby into Berger’s arms and then she’s on her knees in the mud, her hands hitting at Jeanie’s shoulders, trying to wake her. Jeanie doesn’t move and Crissy screams for help, screams until her voice gets hoarse.
Berger stands there and watches her. The baby has disappeared.
“Do something,” Crissy shouts at him, but he just keeps watching her and she sees in his eyes that he’s not the warrior anymore, that he’s just as terrified as she is.
“Where’s John?” Crissy asks. “Where is he?”
Berger doesn’t respond and Crissy starts screaming again, begging anyone for help.
And then she hears it, a slow roar building in the sky.
Berger hears it too and he lifts his sword, looks up. “What the hell is that?” he asks.
**
“Last night I dreamed that Frank’s bike had wings,” Crissy says the following morning. She was quiet the entire way into the city, replaying the dream in her head over and over again. She can’t keep it in any longer and as soon as they’re settled on a bench she spills to Jeanie. “He flew in and cleared the smoke from the world and saved us all. He was amazing. Really heroic, you know?”
“Yeah?” Jeanie asks.
“And you had your baby and he was so beautiful, Jeanie,” Crissy continues. “And I don’t know - I think, maybe that’s how it’ll happen, you know? In the dream I’d given up. We’d all given up, and just then, that was when Frank appeared. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to happen. Do you think?”
“Maybe,” Jeanie hums.
“Are you listening?” Crissy asks, and then she looks up and catches sight of Claude. He’s laughing with Hud, but it looks forced and his posture is stuff. He hasn’t even noticed them, but Jeanie can’t seem to notice anything else. Crissy waves a hand in front of Jeanie’s face until eventually Jeanie blinks and turns to look at her.
“You need help,” Crissy says.
It’s been getting worse. This Claude mess. Now that Jeanie’s so far along, she isn’t going home with anyone, has just been coming home to Crissy’s most nights. She lies in Linda’s bed and she thinks about Claude. She wakes up thinking about him. She just needs someone else to think about. Someone who will lie awake thinking about her.
John comes to sit with them. He flops down into the grass beside Crissy and lays his head in her lap, smiles up at her. He’s so beautiful, his curls and his dark eyes, and Crissy has to consciously stop herself from leaning in and kissing him. He thinks she could do better than Frank Mills. She wonders now, just a little, if he thinks he might be better for her.
“He’s so beautiful,” Jeanie says. It’s like she read Crissy’s mind.
Crissy and John both turn to look at her, but Jeanie only has eyes for Claude. John sits up, folding his legs beneath him. His shoulder bumps against Crissy’s and he rolls his eyes.
“She’s hopeless,” John sighs.
Jeanie makes a face at him before pushing herself up off the ground and going to talk to Claude. Claude’s smile is brighter when Jeanie touches his shoulder and Crissy thinks his hug lasts just a few seconds too long.
“We need to find someone for her,” Crissy says. “No one knows Jeanie better than you and me. We can find someone great for her. Just to take her mind off, you know, things.”
John laughs.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” John says. “Things.”
“It’s getting worse, don’t you think? I thought she was getting over him and now with this draft stuff, it’s all getting worse.”
“Jeanie’ll be fine,” John says. He doesn’t say that Claude’ll be fine. He doesn’t say that he’ll be fine.
Crissy leans in and kisses his bare shoulder. They’re quiet for a long moment. Crissy keeps her mouth pressed to John’s skin while she watches Jeanie talk to Claude, pulling at his arm when he turns to laugh at Berger’s antics. Whatever Jeanie’s saying has Claude shrugging, his arms pulling up in a helpless gesture before he shakes her away. They walk off together down the path.
Crissy sighs.
John shifts and wraps an arm around her shoulder.
“She’ll be fine,” John says again.
“But don’t you think -“
“Crissy,” John interrupts. He takes one of her hands, wraps it in both of his. “You’re good for Jeanie, you know? All this stuff you’ve been doing. Her staying at your place with you and your folks. It’s good.”
“Yeah, but -“
“Come on,” John says. “Shouldn’t you be waiting for your guy? Frank? I’ll go with you if you want.”
John’s face is sincere, but it feels like he’s mocking her anyway.
“I’m being serious,” Crissy says.
“Yeah,” John nods. “Me too.”
**
They sit in front of the Waverly and they wait.
Jeanie leans back on the steps, supports her back by propping her elbows on the concrete. Her belly bulges out in front of her. It won’t be long now.
“When John’s born,” Jeanie always says. “Everything will be better when baby John is born. He’s going to change everything. You’ll see.”
“I can’t wait for the baby,” Crissy says now. She loved it when her sister’s daughter was first born. She loved having the baby around, holding her. She didn’t even mind when she cried. She’s going to help Jeanie with the baby. She’ll be there through everything. Aunt Crissy. She loves him so much already.
“You don’t think your mom is right, do you?” Jeanie asks then.
“Right about what?”
“About adoption” Jeanie says. “You don’t think I should give him up.”
“Of course not,” Crissy gasps. “You love him. You can’t give him away. He already has the biggest family in the entire world, Jeanie. We’re all going to help you. You know that, right? That no matter what my mother says, you’re not alone?”
“Yeah,” Jeanie says. “Yeah, I know. You’re right.”
“I am,” Crissy agrees.
“You think Claude’s going to go?”
“No,” Crissy says immediately. “I don’t think he’ll go.”
“I think he might,” Jeanie sighs.
“He’ll be okay,” Crissy insists. She hears John’s voice in her head, speaking almost the same words to her just a few days ago. Crissy thinks of her sister, huddled in front of the television every night, waiting to hear news about her husband, Mitch. Every day Bobbie runs out to meet the mailman, hoping for a letter, anything to tell her that Mitch is all right. So far Bobbie’s been lucky.
She imagines Jeanie there, watching for the mail from the window of Crissy’s house. She holds her baby in her arms and she waits for news of Claude. Every day she gets thinner and nothing Crissy does can get her to leave the house except on Sunday, and then only because she knows there is no mail to wait for.
“I don’t think Frank’s coming today,” Crissy sighs.
“Yeah,” Jeanie agrees. “Do you want to get a soda?”
**
Crissy lies awake and listens to Jeanie crying softly down the hall. She thinks about the last night she cried herself to sleep, the night she lost Frank’s address. She thinks about how Jeanie came in and climbed into bed with her, how just having someone there made her feel a little bit better. Jeanie’s sniffles echo off the walls and Crissy throws her blankets aside and slips into the hallway.
**
“What are you gonna do if he never shows up?” Dionne asks. “You’re just gonna sit here until you’re thirty?”
“She’ll sit here until she’s forty,” Angela laughs. It annoys Crissy, but Angela follows it with an affectionate bump to Crissy’s shoulder, so Crissy lets it go.
They’ve been sitting with her for an hour now. It looks like it’s going to rain any second, but so far the clouds are holding on.
“It won’t take that long. He’ll show up,” Crissy says with a shrug. She leaves out the fact that every week she’s a little less sure.
“But what if he doesn’t?” Angela asks. “Are you really just going to wait here forever? I mean, it’s been weeks and weeks.”
Crissy doesn’t say anything. She pulls a petal from the daisy that Angela brought her instead. The fact that Angela’s there at all is nice. It isn’t the same with them, but it’s better. With Jeanie’s help, it’s getting better. Crissy sets her flower aside and pulls at a string hanging from her jeans instead.
“Jeanie went home last night with Hud,” Dionne says when it becomes obvious that Crissy’s just waiting for a subject change.
“Oh, good,” Crissy says.
“Yeah?” Dionne asks, her voice gentle.
“Yeah, of course” Crissy says, smiles and nods. Hud’s always liked Jeanie. Jeanie should spend more time with people who really like her.
“We thought you’d be upset,” Angela admits.
Crissy frowns, stares down at her jeans. “Why would you think that?”
She doesn’t get an answer. Before Angela can say anything else Dionne laughs and says, “Well, speak of the devil.”
Crissy looks up, smiles, expecting Jeanie. Instead she sees Hud and John approaching.
“Hey, baby,” Hud says. He wraps an arm around Dionne and sits on her lap.
John stops in front of them and takes a moment to look up and down the sidewalk. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pants and then says, “No sign of Frank Mills, huh?”
There it is again.
“You’re always saying it like that,” Crissy snaps. “Frank Mills. What is your problem, anyway?”
“Crissy,” Angela says.
“No,” Crissy says, and she knows she’s close to shouting, but she really doesn’t care. “What is everyone’s problem with Frank Mills? I just want to know!”
Hud raises an eyebrow. He stands and then turns and waves to a pedestrian on the corner. The man is wearing a suit and he walks a little faster when he sees Hud waving frantically at him.
“I think I know that guy,” Hud says. “Gotta go. Catch you lovely kids later.” And then he’s off, walking fast and calling to the man in the suit.
John stares after Hud then turns back to look at Crissy, his jaw slack. Crissy crosses her arms across her chest and waits.
“Dionne and I better get going too,” Angela says after one long awkard moment. She stands and holds out a hand for Dionne. “Well, see you later Crissy. See ya, John.”
John uses their departure as an excuse to break eye contact. He shuffles his feet against the sidewalk and then moves to sit on the steps beside her.
“Why do you hate Frank Mills so much?” Crissy asks, calmer now. The thing is, Crissy is pretty sure she knows John’s reason. But she’s sick of waiting for everyone else. She thinks it’s finally time she heard John say it out loud.
“I don’t even know him,” John says. “I can’t hate someone I don’t know.”
“You say his name like you do,” Crissy says. “Frank Mills. It’s like you’re jealous or something.”
Nah,” John shrugs. “I just still don’t get what it is about him. That’s all. I’m sure if I met him I’d understand, right?”
Crissy thinks he might not understand even if he did. She sighs and leans her head against his shoulder.
“Sorry I yelled,” she says.
John shrugs against her.
“Jeanie was with Hud last night,” Crissy says, because she doesn’t know what else there is to say.
John nods like he already knew. Crissy wonders if maybe he brought them together again, if maybe John really did listen to the things she said to him in the park.
It starts to rain then, a few drops at first, and then the sky opens up and it pours.
Crissy shrieks and jumps up off the steps, runs up under the awning that covers the front door.
John laughs and follows. Water shines in his hair and on his nose. He looks so much like Jeanie when he’s like this and Crissy finds herself leaning in, drawn to him. She’s up on her toes with her mouth pressed against his before she can think to stop herself.
John is still smiling as he kisses her back. After a long moment he pulls away just far enough to kiss the tip of her nose. It’s the little things like that. She loves him for them.
“What if Frank Mills showed up right now?” John asks.
‘What if he did?” Crissy says. She’s grinning at him. She probably looks like a loon, but she’s not sure she cares. “You still think I could find someone better?”
And then she gives in and kisses him again. She’s so sick of waiting. Her arms slide around his back, holding him. The rain pours down onto the steps and bounces back at them from the pavement, soaking the bottoms of their jeans. Her thigh brushes up against him and she sighs into his mouth and slides in closer. It’s not until she moves her hand, sliding it around, sliding it down toward the front of his jeans. It’s not until then that John pulls away with a start.
“Oh no, Crissy,” he says. “I didn’t mean - not me.”
“Why not you?” Crissy asks. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” John says. “But you know I don’t - I can’t.”
“What?”
“I’m not the same as Berger or Hud. I’m not - “
John’s face is shutting down. His hair is still wet and it drips onto his cheeks. The water looks like tears now. Any moment his face might burst just like the clouds. And Crissy gets it now. She does. They never talk about it, but deep down she’s always known. He’s just so good to her. She thought that if she wanted it this much then John must feel it too. But Crissy gets it. He doesn’t have to say anything more.
She reaches for him and he lets her pull him into a hug.
“It’s okay,” she says. “I was just being, well, you know. Me.”
He smiles and nods. He holds her tighter.
“Are you okay?” she asks. She feels like she doesn’t ask it enough.
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m okay.”
He kisses her on the forehead and adds, “I’m going to be an uncle soon. I don’t know if you heard.”
“Yeah,” Crissy says. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
A little of the shine returns to John’s eyes and he leans in like he’s sharing a secret. “I think he’s going to be a girl.”
Crissy laughs, then stops as she watches John’s face slip from light and silly back into sad and serious.
“They act like she died, you know?” John says. “All these parents with children who really are lost, really are dying, and they sit at home mourning a daughter that’s still here. It’s all fucked, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Crissy agrees.
They lean against the building and wait for the rain to ease up.
“Thank you for taking care of Jeanie,” John says.
Crissy shrugs. “I love her.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Crissy nods.
John smiles, but it isn’t real. His face is just going through the motions.
“When my parents finally kick me out of the house for good, you think your mom’ll let me crash on your couch?”
Crissy grabs his arm, hugs it to her chest. “We’ll sneak you in through the windows if we have to.”
**
It doesn’t take long before Claude’s draft notice starts to change everything.
No one notices it at first. The change. Then Claude starts disappearing more frequently and Berger stops laughing at everything life has to offer. That’s when Crissy starts to feel it ripple through the group, affecting each and every one of them. Hud scowls like he’s mad at the world. Sheila talks on and on about revolution. Crissy hardly remembers how beautiful John is when he smiles. Dionne zones out, stares off into the trees and jumps when someone says her name. And Jeanie. Jeanie has dark circles under her eyes and she hasn’t slept at Crissy’s house in days.
Crissy’s mother asks about Jeanie every night and Crissy promises her that Jeanie’s okay, that she sees Jeanie every day, that Jeanie will come home with her one night soon.
Crissy finds her in the park, her hair tangled, knotted. Crissy reaches out and pulls a twig from Jeanie’s curls.
“Did you sleep out here?” Crissy asks.
Jeanie nods, says, “I was staring at the stars. Me and Berger, lying on the lawn. They were so bright, Crissy. You should have been here. They watched over us as we slept.”
Jeanie doesn’t have to say what Crissy already knows. Jeanie and Berger fell asleep together worrying about Claude.
“You look awful,” Crissy says.
Jeanie laughs and grabs Crissy’s arms, swings her in a circle.
“My mom’s worried about you,” Crissy adds. “She keeps asking me where you’re coming home.”
“She doesn’t even want me there,” Jeanie says.
“She just says that,” Crissy shrugs. “Anyway, I want you there. I miss you. Dionne says you’ve been staying with Hud?”
Now it’s Jeanie’s turn to shrug.
“Hud’s always been sweet on you, I think.”
“I guess,” Jeanie says.
They walk together toward midtown. They don’t really have a destination in mind, but the day is cool and breezy and the streets are quiet this early. They walk south, watch the city wake up as they pass through. Eventually they get on the subway, and before either of them can voice the plan, they’re standing in front of the Waverly. It isn’t even Tuesday.
They sit on the steps. The spot has almost become a comfort to Crissy. It grounds her somehow, sitting here with Jeanie.
“Will you come home with me tonight?” Crissy asks her. “Not because of my mother. For me?” She really does miss having Jeanie right down the hall. She misses their late night conversations. She misses the nights that Jeanie would slip into her room and curl up beside her. They didn’t have to talk. Crissy is convinced she sleeps better just having Jeanie there.
“Sure,” Jeanie says, reaching out to smooth Crissy’s hair.
Jeanie hums quietly, a Beatles song that’s always been one of her favorites.
“You know, when I first met Claude, he had me convinced for an entire day that he really was from England? I thought that was so groovy. Just like the Beatles, I thought.”
“Yeah,” Crissy says. “I know.”
“I’ll miss him,” Jeanie says.
Crissy nods. “Remember that night?” she asks. “You, me, and Claude?”
“Sure,” Jeanie says, and Crissy catches the hint of a smile as Jeanie recalls it.
“That was one of the best nights of my entire life,” Crissy admits.
“Really?” Jeanie says.
“Really.”
Jeanie is quiet for a moment before she says, “You know what? Me too.”
Crissy nods, smiles, has to turn away.
It’s not until later that Crissy realizes she spent the entire day sitting in front of the Waverly and she didn’t once think about Frank Mills.
**
“I have an idea,” Jeanie says, bursting into Crissy’s bedroom early one morning.
“Yeah?” Crissy asks.
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. We’ll go to Brooklyn!” Jeanne says. Her fists hit Crissy’s bed in time with her words, bouncing the mattress just a little. “We’ll go to Brooklyn and your heart will lead you right to him. You see? Just like I showed you, remember?”
“You think that will work?” Crissy asks. There doesn’t seem to be anything leading Frank to her, after all.
“Of course it will work,” Jeanie says. She grabs Crissy’s bag from her desk and tosses it to her. “Besides. What have we got to lose?”
**
Brooklyn is enormous. Crissy isn’t even sure where to start, so at Jeanie’s suggestion she shuts her eyes and sets a finger on the map. The decision is made and an hour later they’re walking the streets of Sheepshead Bay. When that doesn’t feel right, they head to Bay Ridge, then Park Slope, and by mid afternoon they’re walking aimlessly through Prospect Park.
Jeanie is talking about Claude again, already mourning him even though he’s still here. Crissy tries to concentrate on finding Frank Mills, but all she hears is Claude this and Claude that and all she can think about is poor heartsick Jeanie.
She understands. She loves Claude too, but Berger and Sheila are gonna find a way to help Claude. Crissy believes that they can do it. Anyway, Claude doesn’t want Jeanie’s help.
“He can’t love you,” Crissy says. She doesn’t mean to say it. Not out loud. She slaps a hand over her mouth and turns to face Jeanie with wide scared eyes.
Jeanie is staring back at her, a small frown on her pink lips.
“Sorry,” Crissy says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s okay,” Jeanie says eventually. “I know.”
But it isn’t okay. Jeanie is the best friend Crissy’s ever had. Jeanie sits on the steps of the Waverly for hours waiting for some guy who is never going to show up. She’s here now in Brooklyn on a wild goose chase, not because she cares about Frank Mills, but because she cares about Crissy and she wants Crissy to be happy.
Frank Mills doesn’t care about Crissy. Not like Jeanie does.
Claude can’t love Crissy or Jeanie but at least Claude doesn’t push Crissy away. At least Claude cares once in a while.
John loves her but doesn’t want her. It isn’t his fault.
But Frank Mills. Frank Mills should know where to find her. He should be able to see into her soul, should be drawn to her aura like it’s a light to guide him through the dark. Frank just isn’t looking hard enough. Frank probably isn’t looking at all.
“What if it wasn’t really his address,” Crissy says. “What if Frank Mills isn’t even from Brooklyn?”
“Don’t say that,” Jeanie says. She holds onto Crissy’s shoulders, ready to shake some sense into her, but Crissy doesn’t need it. Crissy feels like she has some sense for the first time in a long time.
Frank doesn’t want Crissy. Frank just wanted two stupid dollars and he’s smart. He knows a sucker when he sees one. Angela’s been right all along. Frank doesn’t want Crissy just like Claude will never want Jeanie. Crissy and Jeanie, they’re exactly alike. Except that Claude is still here. Crissy can hardly remember what Frank looks like now. She tries to remember and all she sees is Jeanie’s blonde hair, Jeanie’s smile, Jeanie walking toward her with her eyes closed over and over again.
Frank and Claude and John, none of them want her. But Jeanie’s been there on the steps of the Waverly almost every day with Crissy. Jeanie sang in the park so that Crissy could patch things with Angela. Jeanie stroked her hair when she cried and snuck into her room at night so that they could laugh and talk into the morning. She puts up with Crissy’s mother even though they both know that Jeanie doesn’t have to stay.
Crissy’s palms are sweating and she thinks of every fantasy she’s ever had. Frank finding her sitting in Claude’s window, lying in a field of flowers with John while he tells her how much he loves her. Frank again, this time simply showing up at the Waverly like he promised. She thinks of all of her fantasies but this time it’s Jeanie she sees in all of them. Jeanie finding her at Claude’s and caring only about her, not even looking at Claude, not even once. Lying in the grass with Jeanie and laughing at the shape of the clouds. Jeanie singing to her on the steps of the Waverly.
“Jeanie,” Crissy gasps, turning toward her, feeling something in her chest jump when Jeanie’s eyes meet hers.
“What is it?” Jeanie asks.
Crissy’s face feels flushed and Jeanie’s expression is concerned. She reaches out for Crissy, a hand on Crissy’s arm. Crissy shifts so that Jeanie’s hand slides into hers instead. Jeanie’s hand is small and warm. Crissy takes a step closer, then one more until Jeanie’s round belly is the only thing separating them.
“Are you all right?” Jeanie asks. “Is it Frank? Can you feel him?”
Crissy shakes her head and closes her eyes. “Spin me around,” she says.
She feels Jeanie’s hands on her, moving her until Crissy is no longer sure which way is which.
“Okay,” Crissy says. She takes a deep breath. “Go stand somewhere and don’t move, okay?”
“You’re going to find Frank,” Jeanie says, the words close to Crissy’s ear. “I know it.” She kisses Crissy’s cheek and then she’s gone, the warmth of her replaced by a rush of crisp winter air.
Crissy doesn’t think it can really work, but she moves, she takes a step forward and she listens to the trees of Brooklyn. She hears people chatting. A dog barks. She doesn’t hear Jeanie anywhere but she keeps walking anyway. The grass beneath her feet becomes a path and she takes a right, walks until she’s no longer on the pavement. She stops again, knows it’s only a matter of time before she walks right into a tree, before she makes a complete fool of herself.
She takes one last left and walks right into Jeanie.
“Oh,” she says.
“Sorry,” Jeanie says. “I should have - here, let’s try it again, okay?”
Crissy’s heart is thumping hard in her chest.
“I don’t want you to move out of my way,” Crissy says, forcing the words out despite the drumming in her throat. “Just stand somewhere, but don’t move.”
Jeanie is already gone and Crissy starts walking again. Straight forward and this time she nearly does hit a tree. Her knees brush some shrubs and she reaches out and feels the bark a foot in front of her. She turns around completely, walks back the way she came, right back to Jeanie.
“You sure you don’t want me to move out of the way?” Jeanie asks.
“No,” Crissy says. Her face is warm and she knows she’s flushed. Her cheeks must match her hair by now. But it doesn’t matter. Right now there’s only one thing that does. She takes Jeanie’s hand, holds in it her own. “Don’t you see? It works. It’s not Frank, Jeanie, it’s you. I love you!”
“I love you too, Crissy,” Jeanie says. She grips Crissy’s hand tighter, but she doesn’t understand. She doesn’t get what Crissy’s trying to say. Crissy will have to show her.
Crissy leans closer, her eyes on Jeanie’s mouth. Jeanie’s breath picks up a little, her lips part and she says, “Are you going to kiss me?”
Crissy looks up from Jeanie’s mouth. Jeanie’s eyes are dark.
“Can I?” Crissy asks. She feels scared suddenly. She worries that she’s feeling the wrong things again, and she tries to pull away, thinks maybe she can still take it back, but Jeanie reaches for her, holds on to her shoulders, won’t let her leave.
Jeanie closes her eyes and holds tight to Crissy’s arms. Crissy can tell that Jeanie understands now. Crissy can tell that she wasn’t wrong. Jeanie won’t let go of Claude easily. It took months for Crissy to give up on Frank Mills and she only met him once for ten minutes. Jeanie’s loved Claude for a long time. But someday Jeanie will realize that Crissy’s been here through it all, that whatever happens with Claude, Crissy will still be here, she’ll hold Jeanie’s hand through anything that comes their way. Claude probably won’t ever love Jeanie, but Crissy’s loved her all along.
“Crissy?” Jeanie asks. Her eyes are still closed, her lips parted just a little.
“Yeah?” Crissy says.
“What are you waiting for?”
Crissy laughs and leans in again and this time she doesn’t stop, keeps moving closer until finally their lips meet. Jeanie’s hands find their way into her hair and Crissy’s slide down Jeanie’s sides, settle against her stomach. She parts her lips and Jeanie follows and when their mouths touch again her heart races and she knows that Jeanie can see right into her soul.