Sapphic Voices General Fiction

Holiday

“Come on Silly! The water feels good!” Sofia called to Lydia who sat stubbornly on the embankment. July 4th weekend in 1945 was turning out to be a scorcher. Bantam Lake was packed with young families taking in the long holiday. Children ran through the trees and splashed in the water. Men home from war drank beer with the neighbors or slept the afternoon away in a jury rigged hammock. Wives scurried to and fro cleaning from lunch and getting dinner ready. Every now and again, an older couple could be found amongst the melee. Tending to grandchildren with their mothers, waiting for the father to come home, their slumped shoulder tired from the burden they might be carrying.

“Lydia!” She turned her gaze towards Sofia.

“I don’t want to.” Lydia was terrified of the water and her new found friend knew it.

Sofia stood knee deep in the pond’s cooling liquid with her hands on her hips. She pouted at her friend.

Lydia laughed. The woman was so adorable when she stood like that. “Alright! How about I sit on the edge and put my feet in, would that be good enough for you Brassy?” Lydia liked the nickname Sofia had earned. The short, dark haired woman was always full of life and adventures. Some local boys called her that when she refused to play their grown up games. Lydia enjoyed teasing her friend.

“Not good enough! Come on! You can do it! I’ll even hold your hand so you don’t fall all the way in.” Sofia was trying her best to coax the other woman to enjoy the cool water.

Swatting at the gnats that never seemed to leave her side, Lydia could see Sofia standing comfortably in the shallow water up to her waist. Sighing, she rolled up her pants to the delight of her friend.

They had met the first night Lydia and her family arrived at the camp grounds. A huge bonfire was built and all the families came by for free refreshments and singing. Lydia had sat quietly by herself, her brothers tearing around, giving her a heart attack every time they ran near the flames. Just graduated from college with a Librarian’s degree, Lydia was to start working in the New Haven Public Library come the start of the school year.

Sofia touched a cool Coke bottle against her bare should, drawing Lydia’s attention away from the bonfire. Sofia, always bold, introduced herself then sat down next to her. They shared the soda, and the friendship grew. They talked and sang and cheered at the children’s antics neither wishing to leave the bench on which they sat. Finding comfort in each other’s company, it was late before either of them became resigned to retire for the night.

Now, three days later, Sofia had coaxed her into the shallows of Bantam Lake. Balancing her steps on the loose rock beneath the surface, Lydia held tight to her friend’s hands. Another step forward with her heart in her throat, Sofia kept her balanced. When the water reached her knees, Lydia stopped. She looked up to find that the shore was about five feet away and she hadn’t drowned. Sofia began to clap and laugh, and then splashed. Lydia’s foothold on the loose gravel bed did not give her the confidence to splash her friend back. Instead she bent at the waist, centering her gravity. All the while Sofia continued to play.

“Stop it Sofia!” But the woman would not.

“Stop!” Lydia’s fear was beginning to take over her senses. The water became ominously dark with imaginary tendrils of plant life slowly creeping up from the depths of the lake planning to grab her ankles and pull her under. All the while Sofia was jumping around and dunking herself under the surface was unaware of the approaching danger. Too scared to be there without the comfort of a steadying hand, Lydia decided to head back to the shore by herself. With her heart pounding in her ears, she slowly turned her back on the deeper waters. She carefully inched her right foot forward. Her toes pulled her foot forward by gripping the loose stone and sand submerged beneath the cool water. Keeping her pace slow, Lydia made little progress before Sofia noticed her intention.

“Oh no you don’t! Come on Lydia!” Sofia ran up to the shaking girl. The algae that grew on the submerged stones created a slippery surface. Sofia lost her balance. Her feet slid forward, and knocked Lydia at the back of her knees. Both girls fell into the water with a thump. Lydia felt the water engulf her body and cried out, fearing that this was the last moment of her life. She closed her eyes and screamed.

“Lydia!” Sofia was shaking her. “Lydia! You’re OK!”

Lydia opened her eyes, her scream died out. There they sat in water up to their waist. She was stunned. She wasn’t drowning. She was…she was...cooling off! Both girls looked at one another and roared with laughter.


Lydia heard the grandfather clock in her living room begin to chime for three o’clock in the afternoon. She rubbed her eyes to erase the dream. She had been dreaming lately, about Sofia. Lydia looked around the quiet apartment that once boasted her laughter, she missed her very much.

“Brassy…” the sound of her voice trailed into the empty corners of the room. Life had a way of knocking on your door and asking for a donation.

The newspaper she had been reading fell to the side of her chair as she stretched then struggled to get out of the soft armchair. It was old. Like everything else in her home. But it was comfortable.

Standing up, Lydia moved her 83-year-old body to the front door to get the mail. On the front porch, she could see that the upstairs tenant had gotten home early from work, reminding her that their rent was due. Covering herself with the worn house robe, Lydia shuffled back inside and headed to the kitchen to make an early dinner.

****

Standing in the front yard, Abby looked around at the established neighborhood. Christine was still unloading the car with their groceries and suitcases. The movers were scheduled to arrive tomorrow and Abby wanted to be ready for the flurry of activity to come. Being transferred to the East Coast, Abby looked forward in settling down closer to her family and friends. Christine, a contractor, worked independently. So they bought their first house together.

Built in 1956, it was a quaint Cape Cod style home that boasted original oak trim, hardwood floors and an original wall hutch tucked into the downstairs hallway, once housing what Abby thought was the original telephone. They had looked for homes via the Internet, and this house kept popping up when they inserted their search criteria. Then a month ago, they had been waiting for the Realtor to arrive with the key when they decided to explore the huge backyard. A swarm of dragonflies surrounded them and then flitted to and fro, enticing them to stay. The women knew they were home before they even stepped inside.

****

“Why do you always ride the Tiger?” Lydia wanted to know.

“Why do you always ride the Zebra?” Sofia’s eyes sparkled whenever she teased her. Lydia looked down, somewhat shy to say how she felt out loud. The Lighthouse Point carousel zoomed in its continuous circle. The park, crowded with families celebrating the Memorial Day holiday, was their favorite place to go on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

“Well?” Sofia was not going to let Lydia off the hook.

Lydia thrusting her chin forward, and giving Sofia a look reserved for mischievous children, said “Because it’s next to the Tiger!”

Sofia’s eyes softened.


Lydia awoke, as usual, at 5 a.m. She was the typical early riser. She rolled to her side and stared at the clock. 5:01 clicked to 5:02 then 5:03 before her bladder urged her to get up. Steadying herself against the door frame, Lydia thought about why she got up every morning at the same time. Oh it would be nice to sleep late. Sofia always managed to eke out a few extra minutes of sleep every morning. Lord only knows how she kept her job at the lawyer’s office all those years. She was late more times than punctual but never was reprimanded. She would laugh off the idea of being fired when ever Lydia asked. She couldn’t help it; Lydia fretted, Sofia was light hearted.

This morning, as Lydia slowly got herself washed and dressed, needing some of that laughter now. But today, as usual, she would take her walk to the park. Rain or shine, she insisted on walking. Sometimes, she would take the bus to the store or to a doctor’s appointment and every step of the way her bones ached, but that was just part of age. Her nieces and nephews had wanted her to move into a home for the elderly, but walking kept them at bay, and kept her in the home she once shared with Sofia.

The tea kettle whistled. The house robe settled into its familiar sag as Lydia put it on. She hurried as best she could to the stove, using wall surfaces, chairs and the counter tops as support. Both hands shaking, holding the hot kettle she managed to pour the water into a stained mug that once said NEW ORLEANS! Now in faded lettering. The memory of that trip flitted into her mind.


They had saved for a year and a half to go to Mardi Gras driving down from Connecticut in 1952. They stayed in the French Quarter with some men they had come to know from Sofia’s days at college. They owned a Bed and Breakfast and had a popular café on the first floor in the heart of downtown. Since the guys were busy with the restaurant, the two of women explored the town. Splurging on carriage rides, and restaurants, Sofia and Lydia bought souvenirs and gifts for their families back home. Lydia was 27 at the time, away from the scrutiny of her parents and with 25 year-old ‘Brassy’ she felt on top of the world. That was the week Sofia asked her. She asked if they could buy a house together.

“You serious?” Lydia felt daunted at the thought.

“Lydia, when are we going to have our own grown up life? My parents constantly hound me about marriage. Don’t tell me your parents don’t ask you either.”

“Of course they ask me.”

“Then why not?”

“I don’t know. What will the neighbors think with two women sharing a house? I might get fired. You! You could too!” Lydia wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to ward off an imaginary chill.

Sofia was thoughtful for a moment. “How about we buy something practical?”

Dropping her arms, Lydia looked at her companion. “Like what.”

“Like, what if we bought a two or three family house? The tenants would help pay the mortgage and we could always claim it to be a future nest egg if one of us were to get married.”

Lydia chuckled. “You plan on getting married?”

“Nope!” Sofia gave her a huge hug.

Lydia smiled, “I think my father would love that idea! We could go with the pretense that you would be in one unit and I could be in another!”

Sofia jumped for joy then looked Lydia in the eye. “Of course, we must share an apartment to save money.”

Tourists perusing the local shop windows turned when they heard the two women laughing out loud.


Lydia looked down at her half eaten muffin. Her tea was nearly gone but cold. She wasn’t very interested in the breakfast anyway. She pushed herself up from the kitchen table and gathered her plate and cup. Carefully wrapping the muffin for tomorrow, she washed the dishes and set them to dry.

****

The moving truck had arrived from California right on time. Christine was busy helping the guys move the heavy stuff while Abby directed them as to which room they were to place the boxes. The truck had parked in front on the street. Its cargo partially off loaded onto the grass and sidewalk. The movers (and her butch girlfriend) scurried back and forth, trying to beat off the imminent rain to come.

Abby stood on the front porch keeping an eye out for safety. It was then that she noticed the elderly woman making her way up the sidewalk. It was still hot for the early September day, but the woman had a light jacket on anyway. She wore a skirt, thirty years past fashion, solid, practical shoes, pantyhose, a wide brimmed hat and a purse slung over her left arm, bent at the elbow. She used her folded umbrella for a cane.

Abby watched as the woman negotiated through the flurry of activity as she headed towards the local shops. Calling out a ‘hello’ the woman did not hear her. The shuffle remained constant, but slow. Then she saw Christine give the woman a smile. The startled woman stopped and turned to watch as Abby’s short haired lover headed back to the truck for another piece of furniture.

The woman shook her head and resumed her pace. Christine got that reaction a lot from older people set in their ways. With the old woman making it safely past the obstacles created from the movers, Abby thought that perhaps, another day, she could say ‘hello’.

****

It was past 12 noon when Lydia came back from her hair appointment. The bus dropped her off at the corner of her street and she began the four block trek. She could see that the park was filled with young mothers and their preschool children. It was a nice day for it. Lydia must have been in her forties when she actually thought children might be a good idea, but Sofia had waved away that idea.

“You’re too old to be having children!” Sofia never did like competition. Lydia never broached the subject again.

Walking past the old Laurel house, the frenzied activity from the morning had now moved to the interior of the house. The truck was gone, replaced by cars she assumed where the friends of the people moving in. They had music blaring, and the sounds of women laughing filtered to the street.


Sofia was flabbergasted at the surprise 30th birthday party Lydia threw for her. All of their friends had carefully hidden their cars down the street at the bingo hall and had decorated the apartment while Lydia had taken the birthday girl out shopping. They had just bought their multifamily house the year before with help from their parents.

The birthday party lasted into the wee hours of the morning. Everybody danced with their preferred partners, making sure that the blinds and shades were drawn. Sofia felt like queen of the ball. Her joy still echoed off the quiet stillness of their home.


The worn key slid into the lock and the door squeaked open. She kept meaning to get out the WD40 to oil the hinges like her father had showed her, but by the time she reached the dining room, she had forgotten the task.

Lydia placed the newspaper from the stoop onto the metal coffee table next to her chair and went to make lunch.

****

The chill of the approaching winter was felt by the time Columbus Day arrived. Abby had just finished unpacking the last box near lunch time when she decided to have a smoke on the front porch. The old lady was coming down the block wearing a heavy coat, mittens, and scarf. She still wore a knee length skirt with the same practical shoes. Hopping down off the stoop, Abby approached her neighbor.

“Hi!”

The woman looked up from concentrating on the sidewalk. She blinked and looked over Abby’s shoulders to the old Laurel house. Then back to Abby. “Hello.”

“I’m Abby.” She held out her hand.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Ms. Crane.” Lydia took the proffered hand.

“We just moved in here and are getting to know the neighbors.”

Lydia’s blue eyes softened “Yes, I remember. That young gal helping you nearly ran me over; still she was very polite about it.”

Abby stuck her hands into her back pockets. “Sorry, Christine is rather exuberant. Lots of energy.”

“I’d say so.”

“I see you walk every day”

“Yes, its good exercise.”

Abby could tell that Ms. Crane wanted to continue on her way. “Ms. Crane, would you like to share a cup of coffee with me? It is rather cold out and I’ve a fresh pot in the kitchen.”

Lydia declined. “Perhaps another time, thank you though.” She said her good bye and walked home. Lydia had lost touch with all her original neighbors as time passed and they moved away. The people who bought their houses never made the effort to say hello.

Abby watched for a while but got to cold before she could see which house was Ms. Crane’s. She ran inside to warm up.


It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving, Abby and Christine were out raking the last of the maple leaves that covered their front lawn. The temperature was supposed to reach the mid fifties struggled to reach that mark. The last of the Canadian geese squawked overhead as they flew to a warmer climate. Ms. Crane was on her usual schedule and came upon the two women resting on their front porch. They hadn’t seen her approach until she was nearly upon them.

“Good morning Ms. Crane!” Christine was first to jump up and greet the woman at the sidewalk.

“Good morning Christine, Abby.” Lydia nodded to both. “You’ll not get a lot done if you’re sitting around all day!” Lydia smiled at the two women. Oh to be young again!

The women smiled at Lydia’s teasing. They had become familiar with each other over the last several weeks during their ‘sidewalk’ chats.

“Where are you off to today Ms. Crane?” Christine was the go-getter, Abby the reflective. Like Sofia and herself.

“I am heading to downtown to return a few books.”

“We could drive you. Save you some bus fare perhaps?” Abby, was the practical one.

“Thank you, no, the public transit is depending on my fare to keep the system running smoothly.” A long forgotten gleam emanated from her eyes.

“How about we drive you to the library and the money you save can buy you a new dancing dress?!” Christine was the humorous one.

Lydia laughed. Sofia would have enjoyed these women. “Girls, get back to work! I’ve a bus to catch!”

“How about you join us for lunch when you come back. I insist.” Abby looked determined.

Lydia sighed then conceded. “Alright. But I will bring the beverage.”

“Fair enough. What time can we expect you?”

“The bus will drop me off at 12:15 at the corner. I’ll be down after that.”

“Good! Then it’s settled! We will see you at 12:20!”

****

“Then it’s settled! You and I will go out on the town tonight!” Sofia’s eyes sparkled when they made plans. Lydia was always drawn to them. They were warm and comforting, even when the pain from the cancer chewed on her very essence, Sofia could always make them sparkle when ever she looked at Lydia. Years later after she died, Lydia would bring the memory of Sofia’s eyes to her mind like a candle to dispel the darkness that always came in loneliness. The pictures of Sofia on the wall could never capture that sparkle, but Lydia always knew it was there. She would spend hours reminiscing over the old photographs of their life together. Old friends now gone...life came knocking.


At 12:14, the bus let Lydia off at the corner. Christine stood waiting for her.

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t skip out on us!” Christine gave Lydia her best smile. Lady killer, that’s what Lydia thought Christine was, a natural flirt who could make just about any woman blush. Sofia would have given this girl a run for her money though.

“I bought you ladies wine, sort of a late house warming present.”

Christine took the bottle and with a smile said “This will go wonderfully with our soup and sandwich spread!” The grin was infectious.


Lydia had never been in the old Laurel house before. The girls warmly welcomed her in. Now she sat in a comfortable dining room, with a modern chandelier looking out of place providing garish lighting.

Abby noticed Ms. Crane glancing up at the light every now and then with a frown. “We do plan on replacing the light at some point when there is money in the budget.” Ms. Crane gave a little smile that resembled more of nostalgia rather than approval.

“We did the same thing when we first bought our house. The first few years were the leanest. But we had heat, and food and indoor plumbing. We didn’t need anything else.” Lydia took another small bite of her tuna salad sandwich.

“We?” Abby smiled. She liked Ms. Crane for some reason.

Lydia looked at Abby. Such a dear girl, how times have changed. She was their age when she and Sofia came to live here. Their life was always a secret. Today the Christine and Abby had given her a tour of the house. She noticed that there were two bedrooms set up, one being for guests.

Sofia and I, my…my roommate.” Lydia closed her eyes to combat the flood of memories.

The two younger women looked at each other.

“We bought the multifamily house just down the street back in ’54 or ’55. Our parents kept nagging us to find husbands. I think after ten years of us being roommates they decided to leave us alone.”

“So, you own that Victorian a block and a half away?” Christine noticed it was the only multi on their street and found it to be quite beautiful despite being a bit worn down.

Lydia nodded. “Sofia loved that house. We knew that it was the right house for us the moment we stepped into the back yard. We hadn’t even gone inside yet.”

Goose bumps formed on Abby’s forearm. “H-how did you know it was the right house for you two?”

“Dragonflies. They swarmed all around us, as if daring us to stay.”

The hosts stared at her.

****

“Lydia! You are such a slowpoke! Hurry up!” The two women had been apple picking at a local orchard. They wanted to make pies for Thanksgiving and preserve fruit for the winter months. Lydia walked through the orchard hardly picking a thing. The autumn day was glorious; the smell of it filled her senses. She felt the last rays of sun warm her skin while she sat on the hillside that over looked the colorful landscape. Sofia had wandered away searching for the tree with the most apples still on it so she didn’t have to pick them off the ground. It was getting late and the tractor pulling the last cart of the day was soon to depart. If they didn’t catch it, they would have to walk through the rapidly darkening countryside before they could get a ride back to town.

“Lydia! Where are you! I’m leaving!” With that, Lydia was brought out of her reverie.

“Sofia!” I’m here!” The two women found each other and ran to catch the last cart out. They jumped into the back, nearly knocking over a young couple mooning over each other.

“Hey! Watch it!”

“Sorry, sir!” Sofia was all smiles. The two women giggled. Their day, they were sure, was going to end rolling naked under the covers. They didn’t mean the young couple either.


Lydia awoke with a start. A knock at the door got her moving from her chair. When she opened the squeaky door, there stood Abby, her breath heavy in the cold air, teeth chattering.

“Come in girl! Come in! Excuse me, I was just napping. Come in.” Lydia ushered the woman into her home.

“Thank you Ms. Crane.”

“Time you called me Lydia. Ms. Crane was my professional name.”

“Alright…Lydia. I just wanted to come by to invite you to our Thanksgiving feast tomorrow. Both our families will be there, so there will be plenty of food. Please say yes.” Abby’s face was quite earnest.

“Is Thanksgiving tomorrow already?” Lydia ran her hand through her disheveled grey locks. “I don’t know.” It had been a long time for family.

“I am assuming, of course, that you don’t have any other plans.”

“Abby, you are so sweet, but I couldn’t possibly come. I feel so ill-prepared.”

“Tell you what; you don’t have to give me an answer now. How about you give me a tour of this beautiful house instead?”

The tour lasted several hours as Lydia began to open up about her life with Sofia. They poured over the photographs of endless albums and the multitude of framed memories on the walls. Lydia felt light as she revealed the secret life her and Sofia kept for so long. It had grown dark by the time Abby left to start the preparations for tomorrow’s celebration. Lydia knew some of the shadows had disappeared.

****

“A toast to our friends; May long life and long love always be yours. Cheers!” A chorus of voices echoed Sofia’s toast. The year was 1978. Sofia was 52. It was the last Thanksgiving they would share, the cancer was the victor.

The next several years were hard. Their friends stopped by or she got out visiting them, but holidays were never the same. Eventually, the friends that once broke bread together either faded away or passed until only Lydia remained behind.


“Tell me love, what’s on your mind?” Sofia’s voice whispered in the back of her dream.

“I miss you, Brassy.” Lydia’s heart was breaking.

“I know love. I’m here. Hush now, let me hold you.” Lydia drifted deeper into sleep.

****

“Lydia! You made it!” Abby greeted the older woman with a strong hug. Christine took her coat and purse and put it in the guest room.

One by one, Lydia was introduced to the friends and family that had gathered at the house of Abby and Christine. They gave her the best seat in the living room and chatted non stop. Lydia was never without a drink in her hand or lacked an appetizer on her plate.

When dinner was ready, Christine said grace. Clearing her throat, Lydia asked if she could make a toast. A resounding yes was the reply.

“A toast to friends; May long life and long love always be yours. Cheers!” The echoes of the past mixed with the chorus around the table.

****

“Lydia! Hurry up you slowpoke! The cart is leaving!” Lydia ran to catch up. Sofia stood on the back of the cart and reached forward grabbing her lover’s hand. They fell backward onto the hay that was strewn about. Their giggles subsided into kissing.

“Miss me?” Sofia stroked Lydia’s cheek.

“Everyday.” Lydia’s heart was filled with joy.

“Let’s go home then.” And they did.


Author’s note: Dragonflies typically live for 48 hours. They make the most of their short life. And if one lands on you, you are blessed.

If you have enjoyed Jesse Linde's "Holiday", then please be certain to  Contact The Writer  and thank her for posting this Story.

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