It's Nice to Have a Friend

I ARGUE THEE

THAT LOVE IS LIFE

AND LIFE HATH IMMORTALITY

~~~~

"So sweet and still, and thee, oh Sue, what need I more to make my heaven whole? Sweet hour, blessed hour, to carry me to you, and to bring you back to me, long enough to snatch one kiss, and whisper goodbye again..."

i.

Sue and Austin go to the Dickinson's for supper a couple of times a week. It allows Mrs. Dickinson to fawn over the baby and for Austin and his father to talk about cases and the firm.

She wears that pretty red, white, and gold sun dress that Sue likes so much.

They all exchange pleasantries over baked potatoes and roast, and talk about how the light snow outside, though lovely, is so late for the time of year. Lavinia bats a ribbon at the cat in her lap, and Austin starts talking about how Worcester and Springfield are quickly becoming industrial cities and important centers in textile machinery, blah blah blah.

Their eyes find each other's silently in the surrounding conversation and the clinking of silverware. What experts they've become at communicating through glances across the table, eyeing things like "I hate this" or "I miss you" or "You look so pretty" without ever actually saying the words or being given away.

The candles burn lower, and the men retire, full-bellied, to Mr. Dickinson's office where they can get lost in legal documents and a cloud of smoke from matching pipes. Mrs. Dickinson coos at the baby in her arms, wrapped in blankets and a laced white bonnet, cozied close in a corner rocking chair.

In the kitchen, Sue puts a half-empty bowl of peas on the table, leaving the rest of the dinner dishes and washing for Maggie and Vinnie, pulling Emily into the hallway between the kitchen and the foyer where they can, for a short time, finally be alone.

Sue pushes her gently up against the wall, takes her face in her hands and her upper lip in her mouth, earnest and quiet all the while, and Emily's breath catches in her throat. Her eyes roll closed, and Sue nuzzles her neck for a moment, breathing in the sweet scent of lemon scones and flowers.

"I thought about you all day," she whispers, fingering the gold and red patterns on the sleeves of her cotton dress.

Emily smiles wistfully, kissing her again, feeling her hands encircle the back of Sue's neck.

Sue sighs into her hair. "I hate that we have to sneak around like this. To see you and be around you and have to pretend like my body isn't humming...it all feels too much sometimes."

But Emily smirks at her cheekily. "It is kind of exciting though, isn't it?" She captures Sue's lips again, lingering. "How could it be bad when it feels so good?"

They stay there, against the wall in a shadowy, hushed corner, eyes sometimes peering all around in fear of being caught...if only for one moment more.

ii.

On a Sunday in June, the church is especially hot. Women undo their bonnets and men sit in the pews jacketless, everyone lightly sweating and doing their best to listen to the hymns.

Austin and Sue sit three pews ahead of Emily and the others, and one row over, and Emily spends a lot of the mass looking at the back of Sue, observing her as a wife and mother in this public space. The baby, like everyone else, is hot and cranky, and before communion, Emily watches Sue and Austin collect their things and slip out of the pew as to not cause a scene while the baby fusses.