Resolutions | Carol

Resolutions

The lights were down. We were submerged in an inky darkness; my eyes had adjusted so I could see Carol in her robe. She sat upright on the edge of the bed, her back facing me.

"Are you ready?"

"It's got to be worth a shot. What have I got to lose?" Her voice was solemn as shame crept up her.

"Okay... Ready when you are." She lowered the robe, exposing her blackened back. I pressed harshly on my camera, the flash flickered, segregating the paler parts of her back from the purple splotches. I hoped the darkness would expose the contrast in colours, it was gruesome and yet there was something that gave us a requited sense of comfort. Her vulnerability that she allowed me to share, no one else but me.  "Next?" I didn't want to take any photos of her body that we shared, I didn't want anyone else to know them as I did. We continued to photograph her writs, shoulders, collar bones, hips and face. At the end of it, when the intermittent flashes of my camera concluded, she sat breathing, thinking.  She still faced away from me as I sat on the other side of the bed.

"Therese."

"Yes?" My anxieties began to bubble, I hoped that she wasn't angry. But most of all I hoped she didn't feel guilty.

"Come and hold me?" I got up from the bed and walked to where she sat opposite the wall. I lowered myself so that our waists were aligned, and I shuffled her robe back onto her shoulders before wrapping my arm around her. It was almost platonic, but we both knew that what she wanted right now was a friend and not a lover. It overwhelmed me with pride to know that, to her, I could be both. She ducked her head into my neck and her perfume lapped over me like a warm summer breeze. "Should I tell Abby?" I didn't say anything, because I knew whatever I would say would sound selfish or emphatic. But Carol knew what I would say, she knew if we wanted to get this over with other people had to be involved. Yet, at this moment with her putting all of her weight on me, it felt like Harge's anger and abuse was miles away. Perhaps this would bring us together, further still and perhaps I can make a friend out of Abby. I hope she may see that this, between Carol and I, is real and I would sacrifice everything for her.

"I will have to go home to develop the photos... my chemicals are all there."

"I may have missed something out on the tour?" She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and stood up, taking me with her. We went into the hallway, where there were doors leading to the dining room, living room, kitchen, the main bedroom, a smaller bedroom (perhaps Rindy's) and another door which was closed. We walked to the closed door and she twisted the handle until it clicked. The skimmed the light switch and opened the door. It was a dark room. There was a red light on the wall, with a separate switch and a half-size refrigerator, there were trays spanning over the work surface that ran from one wall to another, and string with pegs ran across the ceiling.

"Oh Carol."

"I wanted to make you feel at home. I have enough photo chemicals to keep you going until we move your stuff in." There was a smaller table in the centre of the room, where there was a scrapbook placed. I walk towards it, it was a beautiful scrapbook. It had a brown cover which felt like carboard, with a black spine and there was room to place a label in a gold metal frame on the front. I brushed my fingers across it and the texture was amazing. "Go on, open it." So, I slowly turned the cover. The first page was merely the title of The Times newspaper. "I kept an interest in your work." I turn the next page, it was the first photo of mine that was published in the paper. My name and the date were perfectly written beneath it in Carol's handwriting. "I scoured every paper, any photo in which you were credited I cut out. You were always talking about creating a portfolio. While you were gone, this was what kept me going... You're not angry at me, are you?"

"No of course not. This is amazing." I turn to her and I could tell my smile was boarder-line foolish. Yet, it didn't matter. I would have flung my arms around her, but she was fragile, and I didn't want to remind her of that. Instead, it seemed, she flung her arms around me. It was such a tight embrace that I felt bound to her.

"I have missed you Therese." She paused and pulled me away, holding me by my shoulders. "We'll start work tomorrow. For now, let's go to bed."

"I'll run you a bath." I walked to the ensuite and turn the tap. I could hear Carol's steps echo through the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. I stir the water with my hand, it was slightly too hot, but I lavished in it. I sat there just thinking about it all, Carol and I and perhaps Rindy. I knew that if Rindy were here things would be different between Carol and I. But equally, I doubt Rindy will be able to live here full-time. Seeing Carol's face light up in her company, it was carnival so full of life and joy. It was no longer surviving it was luxury.

"Here." Carol came in with two cups of coffee and handed me one, the steam rose to my face to greet me pleasantly.

"Thank you. I thought a bath might relax you."

"I am relaxed Therese, you're here." I can feel myself blushing, so I sip my coffee and leave Carol to her bath. I walk back to the dark room to look through the scrapbook. It was all so perfectly placed. Her writing made it so much greater. I feel the pages, thick and rough like watercolour paper, turning their weight. Each new page filling me with pride, not because it was my work but because she loved me enough to document it even in my absence. Guilt suddenly pinned me down. My time without her, the time I longed to dedicate to her, it all seemed to span against my mind. How she risked everything for me, her child and her safety. I couldn't talk to her about it, because I knew she would respond with her guilt about leaving me. I close the scrapbook, trying to ensnare my guilt under the heft of those pages. Closing the door behind me, I headed back to the bedroom. I hadn't really spent that much attention on the furnishings because Carol was the only piece that had ever mattered. Beside each half of the bed were bedside tables which had a single draw and a shelf. Above the bed was a reading light, the shade looked much like the shells I used to collect in the summers with Richard, the first times I had visited a beach. Pushing the thought away, I look through the chest of draws that were by the door, filled with undergarments and pyjamas, Carol had even bought sets much like the ones I had at my house in my size. The wardrobe too, was half full of her clothes and a quarter full of clothes I like to wear, there was a little room for clothes I already own that were still at my house. The bathroom door buckled, and she walked into the room in her pyjamas, she ran her towel through her hair which turned to honeycomb when it was damp. As Carol sat on the bed I began to change into a set of pyjamas I obtained from the drawers. As I undress I can feel her watching me, I glance at her and see her fixated over me. She looks at me like a painting, mulling over each detail and finding harmony from it. I slip into my pyjamas and turn off the light, hesitantly navigating my way to the bed. I lie down beside her. Motionless, we lie their together. I feel her hand slip into mine and she pulls me close, holding me in her confines. This is what it is to love someone endlessly. Each part of me that was held by her sung a symphony into the night, past the point where I fell asleep. My body sung like a drunken sailor, merrily and gaily. Wondering into the night with her.

Carol was my lullaby and was the dream I had even when my eyes were open.