“That brother of yours--I could shake him, if I didn’t love him so much.”

While Ona had been secretly dating Lucien; Rachel had been corresponding with Caleb.  And the woman couldn’t keep a secret.

Ona said...

“When did you last talk to my brother?”

“A week ago.  Actually...six days, eighteen hours, and twenty-two minutes.”

Ona wanted to gasp because Rachel had it bad for her brother.

Ona said...

“They’re nearing the end of their project.  Caleb and my parents, that is.”

Rachel heard a tremble in her voice, and she didn’t mince her words.

“Yep, that’s right--and you had better pony up, the same as me.”

Ona had worked outside of her commune at an early age but she always got hung up on regional vernacularisms; and Rachel spoke in these terms more than anyone she’d ever met in her life.

Ona said...

“Do you mean that...”  she stopped, mainly because she had no idea what Rachel was talking about.

Rachel calmly said...

“Look Ona...by now, you know that I don’t mince my words.  I say what I mean and I mean what I say.”

Ona nodded, then Rachel said...

“Ona--everybody around here knows about you and Lucien except for your family--and according to Caleb, soon he and your parents will return home.”

This too, she knew, so she nodded while Rachel continued.

“Well...I’ve given Caleb a few ultimatums.  I won’t be dicked around--excuse my language, but I made the mistake of falling in love with him, and I’m pretty sure that he feels the same about me.”

“Did he offer you his band?”  Ona spoke in terms that she understood, and Rachel didn’t correct her.  She simply shifted her gears, and told her what was what.

“No...he didn’t ask me to marry him and he didn’t say that he loved me in terms that you would understand...but a girl knows.”

“How does a girl know?”  The question had been more for her than Rachel, but her friend had clinched down on this topic and there was no prying her loose.

They were standing in front of the door to Ona’s office, when Rachel stopped, and this had caused Ona to face her.

Rachel’s eyes held an expression that puzzled yet drew her in.  As politely as one could say these words; somehow Rachel managed to execute her sentiment.

“After I say what I’m about to say--you might have to clean your ears out but...well...”

Out of frustration, Rachel threw up her hands.  She was clearly annoyed and Ona could hear exasperation in her voice.

“Your Sect is governed by a strict set of rules.  I know this because Caleb told me.  Before he left, he explained that we might not see each other again.  I got angry and I told him that that was bullshit, and I didn’t apologize.  Caleb wouldn’t say the words--but he made it clear that he wanted to be with me.  Whenever we met at the dock, or walked here to the center; if we passed a person belonging to your Sect, he didn’t act different, or shy away, and pretend that we weren’t together at all.  In fact--he didn’t care if anyone saw us.  Our weekly lunches at the Samaritan dock--those dates were Caleb’s idea.  He’d wanted to spend time with me--and I did whatever it took to encourage his interest”

For the better part of a year, Ona had heard profanity and she didn’t shy away like she’d done in the earlier months.  She stood silent while Rachel said...

“I told your brother the same thing that I am going to say to you, as it concerns Lucien.  Rules are rules--and rules are made to be broken.  Not that I’m putting down your religion but--I will not allow a Creed to tell me, who I can love and who I cannot get married to.  As a Baptist I understand that denominations acknowledge their own doctrine but my religion doesn’t tell me who I can date.  And I’m not talking about that unequally yoked stuff; I’m talking about being with a person who is good for you--the bible says that that’s a good thing.  People should be with the people that they love and no set of rules, creeds or commandments should wedge itself in the middle, preventing that from happening.”

Ona remained silent, so Rachel continued....

“Ona...I am my own woman and as such, I can date whomever I damn well please.  And please excuse my French.”

Since she’d understood every word, and she didn’t know how to speak French, Ona concluded that this was just another one of those sayings that she didn’t fully understand.

Rachel took a breath then she said...

“When Caleb gets back, I’m gonna put so much brown sugar on him--girl, when I get through with him, he won’t know if he’s coming or goin.”

Again, Ona was bemused by her friend and she’d prepared herself to say this when she heard the sound of footfalls.

Her heart joined in with the pitter-patter of rhythmic sounds.  When she looked beyond Rachel, she noticed Lucien rounding the corner.  Rachel didn’t have to turn to see the owner of those footfalls, because Ona’s face beamed like those Christmas Tree’s in Rockefeller Plaza.  Ona blocked everything except one image; Lucien’s image.  She didn’t even hear Rachel when she excused herself saying...

“I’ll go check on Sahara to see if she’s still in one piece”

She passed Lucien, and they acknowledged each other with a knowing nod.  They were in the same boat, so they recognized signs that could only be defined as desperation.

Lucien couldn’t move fast enough.  He took long steps to close the distance.  Outdoors the city was readying itself for turkey, Thanksgiving and the return of Santa Claus.  Halloween was a memory and no sign of that holiday remained.  People had their sights on the future.  They were thinking about travel and shopping; oh how he envied them because he was trapped in a bubble and everyone knew how fragile bubbles could be.  He felt this way every time he saw her because there just weren’t enough minutes in the day and each day, their time spent together had to be measured in minutes but twice a week, they would have hours.  This was one of those days; and Lucien had come to love Fridays for an entirely different reason.  On Fridays the Children’s Center closed four hours earlier than on any other day.  It was late afternoon and the ferry wouldn’t leave the dock until eight in the evening.  Lucien wrapped his arms around her waist and in fluid motion he enveloped her and she felt the moistness on his wool coat.  It had been snowing outside and a light dusting had wet his lapel.  Snow in November was her thought, then she lifted her eyes to gain a better look at him.  Lucien smiled, when he said...

“Hi you.”

She adored him and she echoed.

“Hi you.”

Being with him was like pocketing stolen magical minutes and she was simply Ona.  Nothing mattered in this place.  It was just Ona and Lucien; Lucien and Ona.

Lucien lowered his head, and she raised on tiptoes to meet his lips. She was getting better at this, he mused.  She was beginning to express herself without him gently urging her.  He felt delicate arms wrapping around the lower half of his waist and being near her produced a satisfied moan.  He wanted her but he’d always had to be careful; he didn’t want to frighten her and he knew that he could.  Lucien had built a wall to contain every emotion linked to Ona and he only released his feelings in drips and drabs.  The cost for this kind of restraint had come in a number of forms.  Countless cold showers and ice packs on swollen testicles.  But hell, when he was with her, every pain that he’d endured had been worth it because he loved everything about this woman, and then some.

Lucien slowly drew back, kissing her softly on her lips.  He smiled and he noticed that her eyes were still closed.  When she raised her lids, he could see how much she loved him.

Lucien said...

“How was your day?”

“Not bad.”