Maybe Some Other Time, page 14
The woman in question gazed off into the distance, contemplating what legacy her disappearance had wrought in her community. Until then, she had purposely avoided information about it, aside from what the FBI and her family told her. Robbie doesn’t really talk about it. Megan had said that Debbie kept whole scrapbooks about the case and often lamented that she didn’t get more than a handful of memories of her mother. I have plenty of you, honey.
Pensively, Thelma tucked her finger between the pages of the book and sighed into her other hand, which perched atop her mouth while her elbow scraped against the table. So much time had passed since her disappearance. For her, it had only been a season since she went for a drive. I should be making summer plans and clearing Robbie’s summer camp registration. Bill would be sitting at the Formica table, tracing the roads in a large atlas as he plotted a family trip to the Grand Canyon or the Redwoods, whichever struck their fancy that year. Debbie would be officially starting kindergarten at the end of the summer. Thelma had been looking forward to taking the cost of the private daycare schooling out of the family budget.
“Hey.”
Thelma nearly leaped out of her skin, her bones cursing the day they grew to adult size and could no longer hope to expand. For Gretchen had approached, and her husky voice penetrated the force field Thelma had erected around herself as she briefly pretended to be back in her more familiar, more low-tech library that she sometimes visited to search for recipes and old fiction books she remembered from her childhood. Our library had a little meeting room… Many housewives gathered there once a fortnight to discuss events in the neighborhood. Thelma had always wanted to go more often…
“Hi,” she said to Gretchen, her throat dry and useless. She then did a double-take, for the neighbor was somehow more scantily dressed than many of the other girls in the public library. Oh. My. A sleeveless shirt showed off the workwoman’s muscles Gretchen had developed and a small, flowery tattoo on her upper arm. But the shorts! Why the heck was she wearing such short shorts? Didn’t she know that Thelma could see her skin? And more toned muscles? And skin?
“Some light reading, huh?”
Thelma snapped back to a world where she had to respond with words. Shoot, she had to remember where she was? Public library. 2018. Surrounded by women who showed off their belly buttons and bottoms.
Okay, so maybe Gretchen could show a little more skin…
“Wow.” She came closer, no scent of perfume nor a hint of makeup on her skin. She peered over Thelma’s shoulder, courting an eerie calm that insinuated a closeness between them… but Thelma knew better. She already felt things for Gretchen that would have gotten her in trouble during any other time period. “You really look like her.”
Thelma realized Gretchen referred to the pictures of herself in Sandy’s book. Like a fool, Thelma had left the pages open to family photos that showcased her “vintage” style. That day, Thelma even wore a collared sundress and a baubly necklace that Megan had given her. It looks like pearls. She missed her pearls. She hadn’t been wearing them the day she went missing.
“Well, she is my grandmother,” she sardonically said.
“Seriously, though. You even have her name. How crazy is that?”
Not as crazy as you might think. Thelma slowly flipped the book shut and decided to rejoin the future now that Gretchen was here. “Genetics is an interesting thing, isn’t it?” She had been learning more about the strides of genetic testing and DNA through a scientific TV show that Robbie and Megan liked to watch.
“Anyway… sorry.” Gretchen glanced toward the front desk, where a middle-aged woman with purple hair processed returned books. “Should I be on the lookout? I know Rob works here during the week. Don’t want to cause a scene with you guys.”
Thelma rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about him. He’s… cranky. But I’m an adult, and he knows how to heel when it comes down to it.”
Gretchen’s eyes in turn widened as she shoved her hands on her hips and leaned back. “Wow. Okay. The boy heels for someone, huh?”
He heels for his mother. Thelma knew how ridiculous it all was now. There was her Robbie, old enough to be a grandfather multiple times over, and he had to answer to her, a twenty-eight-year-old blonde who had gone missing in 1958. Nobody would ever take them seriously, especially since she was supposedly his niece. They must think I am his young lover and we’re trying to cover it up. Once, that thought made Thelma retch. Now she was numb.
“What are you doing here?” Thelma politely asked, desperate to change the subject.
Gretchen shrugged before relaxing those tensed shoulders. “Checking out some reading. I still prefer physical books. I finally came up on the list to check out The Woman in the Window. Have you read it? Everyone’s raving about it this year.”
“Can’t say I have.” Honestly, Thelma struggled to catch up with all the books that had “woman” in the title. I will never have time to catch up on the books I would have wanted to read over the decades. She’d have to catch the movie versions.
“Oh. Okay.”
Thelma had to get it together. Here was this gorgeous woman who would have given her a romantic conniption any other day of her life, and she was as insufferable as Scarlet O’Hara when she had been wronged. As Megan would say… don’t blow it. Thelma didn’t need the phrase explained to her. The image was preposterously clear in her head. As clear as a nuclear bomb going off.
“You know what’s nice to know?”
Gretchen halted from turning around and saying goodbye. “What?”
Thelma leaned back in her seat, one arm draped over the plastic chair, and a foot slipping out of its shoe. “That since 1945, no other nuclear weapon has been used for its intended purpose on this planet.”
“Uh…” The book Gretchen carried switched hands. “Yeah.”
“It used to be the most frightening thing in the world. Just in 1962, there was such tension between the United States and Cuba.” Thelma still struggled to wrap her head around the idea of Cuba being any kind of significant threat to the rest of America. “People still talk about it. They discuss how little they slept at night. Can you imagine what it would have been like to live through that?”
“No. That was forever ago.”
“Robbie lived through it. So it must not have been that long ago.”
Gretchen sucked in her cheeks and placed her book on Thelma’s table. “Guess so.”
The last thing I need is him seeing me with this book. Or talking to Gretchen. Heck, everything about that still weighed heavily on her mind. She had tried discussing it with Megan, but not only had she been scarce since her college term wrapped up, but it felt… inappropriate. There were some things a young lady did not need to know about her grandmother. At the end of the day, we’re not best friends. Not that Thelma could speak about this to Pauline or Jo, either…
Not yet.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Thelma blurted at the infuriatingly attractive woman who had all her lean carpenter muscles hanging out. Great skin, nice body, and I can’t stop thinking about sex. Thelma would break her No. 2 pencil in half at her current level of frustration. You’d think after two kids that would all slow down, but no. Thelma swore that her last pregnancy broke her. She had a completely “normal” sex drive, and then her hormones went nuts. Like they knew how little time she had left! “I noticed that there’s a little garden area out there. I’d love to see it.”
“Uh, sure…”
Well, one point to Thelma Van der Graaf, who hadn’t scared this nice tomboy away! I was probably pretty close. She gathered her things into her bag and stood up. Better to take it all with her than leave it with Robbie, who would only ask questions.
They went out the door farthest from the counter and instantly stepped into the hot sun. Thelma pulled a pair of sunglasses she purchased from the department store out of her purse and used them as a shield not only against the bright light of the sun, but from feelings that had been percolating inside of her for most of the week.
Gretchen was unperturbed. She was bare-faced against the sun, but considering how good her skin was, Thelma figured she must have taken good care of it despite her occupation. I’m still figuring out how it works today… The cosmetics of her time were long gone. Even her lipstick was about to run out.
“You want to know why Robbie’s losing his marbles?” Thelma blurted once they were near the community garden, one of the only accessible green spaces in the area. “He found out about me.”
Gretchen was reverently quiet as they meandered through the publicly accessible path in the garden. Large, wired fences separated outsiders from the greens within. Social trust is down these days. Back in Thelma’s time, nobody except someone completely losing it would have harmed a community garden, but nothing made sense anymore.
“Found out about you?” Gretchen finally pried. “You mean that you exist?”
“No, no… well, yes. I mean… it’s complicated.” Thelma adjusted her bag strap. Sweat glided down her back, her cotton dress suddenly oppressive against her lithe frame. “He discovered an uncomfortable truth about me. Something I kept hidden from the family for years. It just wasn’t done, you know? There weren’t any other alternatives for me. If I wanted to be provided for, I mean… I had to marry a man and bear children. Don’t get me wrong, Gretch, I love my children, it’s just…”
She shut her mouth before she said anything else so silly.
No. No, I should just get it out. Say it out loud. Make it true.
“He found my favorite book. I kept it hidden in my chest, but he found it.”
“All that over a book?”
“You don’t understand. It was…” She cleared her throat, searching for the confidence that was quickly descending to her bile-ridden stomach. “Lesbians in Outer Space.” A schlocky, pulpy novel written by a dear friend of mine. I mean, of the family. Because it’s from the ‘50s. During my grandmother’s time! Actually!” She stopped, pivoting her whole body toward Gretchen, who jumped. “It was Thelma’s! She was a big ol’ lover of women, but nobody except Sandy Westmore and a few girls at their college could ever know! And here I am! Same name, same face, and I also love women. More than my husband! The poor bastard…”
Gretchen crossed her arms. That was all Thelma saw, for she could hardly bear to witness any other reaction. She was too wrapped up in her own head, remembering how Bill flirted with her before he went to work that last morning she was there. Taking care of him. Giving him stability, like he gave me stability… Their children. Robbie, Debbie…
Poor Debbie. No memories of her mother except what fragments existed in a five-year-old’s head.
“And between me and God, He knows that’s why I’m here!”
As Thelma wrangled her breath back into her lungs, the sweat growing tenfold and her bag strap refusing to stay on her shoulder, Gretchen asked, “What do you mean, ‘here?’”
2018. At least Thelma had some wherewithal left to know better than to say that.
“Van Nuys.”
“Right.” Gretchen looked just as confused as before. “Because this is where God dumps all the queers He knows can’t afford West Hollywood.”
Spit flew from Thelma’s lips as she simultaneously laughed and sobbed. Luckily, her bodily fluids completely missed Gretchen and instead landed on the pavement beside them.
“Lord…” She was a mess. “I want to go home, but I can’t. There’s no way back.”
She saw Robbie on the couch with a fever; Bill wandering the kitchen to make toasted cheese; Debbie watching the television as she played with a doll. They were all still waiting for her back on Hemlock Street. All Thelma had to do was turn the car around, remove her gloves, and return to her proper life.
One with her children. With Sandy for midweek afternoon delights.
Sandy…
Thelma’s attempts to hold back her tears of frustration and love lost did not quite work. While she didn’t shed the sobs that threatened to destroy her in public, her body still hiccupped, and her right hand smacked against her face to hide the scrunching nose and wibbling lips that she swore she would hide from Gretchen.
“Ah…” That same woman swung around, looking for anyone who might be watching them. When it was clear that no one was sweeping in to save them from themselves, she turned back to Thelma, saying, “I’m sorry.”
Thelma swung her hands down to her sides and sniffed so hard that she felt her snot roll around her brain. She refused to rub her nose, though. That was unladylike in the present company.
“I just don’t know what to do,” she muttered. “And now I’ve definitely embarrassed myself in front of you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you.”
“Nah. It’s cool.” Gretchen’s attempt to play off how awkward this was did not go unnoticed, but Thelma was in no space to pay what it was due. “I know what it’s like to feel how you do. My parents… well, they didn’t take too well to my being gay.”
“You mean a homo—”
“Yeah, yeah, a big homo. That one.”
Thelma swallowed her sadness, nodding. “My parents never knew. Nobody knew. I would have… I would have died for them to find out… just…” She hiccupped again. “Unfathomable.” Her brain went blank trying to imagine what it would have been like to be caught with someone like Sandy. Even if it was Bill… even if he was willing to forget it or at least talk about it… No. Impossible. Every particle in Thelma’s body refused to acknowledge it. “Feels good to finally say it out loud, I guess.”
“Wait, you mean I’m the first one you’ve willingly outed yourself to?”
Thelma shrugged. “Is that so strange?”
“No, just… wow. Kind of honored.” Gretchen unexpectedly opened her arms. “Do you want a hug?”
A little gasp once again knocked Thelma off balance. “A hug would be lovely.”
Gretchen took one step toward her, but Thelma did not bridge the gap between them. She was too tentative, too wrapped up in her own head to know how to hug someone who just saw her as her. Gretchen didn’t know anything about Thelma’s truth. She would never believe it. Gretchen was a grounded woman who believed in what was in front of her.
Me. I’m in front of her.
Did that mean Gretchen believed in Thelma? In what she was going through?
Thelma relaxed her arms and took a tiny step forward. She almost shrieked in surprise when Gretchen hugged her with such strength that Thelma was liable to fall to the pavement if she was immediately released.
The seconds froze into one long moment that Thelma couldn’t count. She slowly wrapped her arms around Gretchen’s middle, savoring the natural warmth and softness of someone else’s body. I can hear her heartbeat. Above the traffic. Above the pigeons. Above even the noise in her own head that hadn’t shut up in a good long while.
But it was Gretchen’s arms around her that were most idyllic. Thelma closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against a sloping shoulder that curved into a firm bicep. There it is. The earthy scent of another’s body. Thelma didn’t care about sweat, nor was she put out by hot breath hitting the back of her neck. It had been so long since she experienced an embrace like this. Empathy and friendly, helpful love poured into her as she realized there was someone in the future who could get to know the messed-up Thelma and embrace her.
It was the purest hug of her life.
She could have stayed there for the rest of the day, immortalized as a statue and left to serve as a memorial to the fallen time travelers who had never felt such wholesome kindness again. Because when Thelma held Gretchen close, she forgot about the loud, fast cars, the devices attached to people’s hands, and the plasticky clothing that rubbed her skin raw out there in the heat. There were only the two of them, and whatever God still watched over her.
“Let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing…”
“Whoa…” Gretchen’s feet slightly tilted as Thelma pushed herself deeper into the other woman’s hold. “That’s quite the grip you’ve got.”
“Sorry.” Thelma’s voice was muffled as she spoke into Gretchen’s shoulder. “It just feels good to hold somebody.”
“Yeah… I know what you mean.”
When Thelma feared she might wear out her welcome, she pulled away, allowing her fingertips to linger on Gretchen’s T-shirt. Their eyes briefly met, but Thelma’s bag smacking against her was all it took for her to resume life as it had been before they hugged.
“Thanks for hearing me out,” Thelma said. “I’ve been a right mess ever since I got here. I guess you could say it wasn’t my choice. I’m very grateful for Robbie taking me in, but…”
Gretchen held up her hand. “I get it. And no problem. We all need someone, sometimes.”
“I better head back,” Thelma said with a small smile. “Before he notices I’m missing.”
She took a dramatic step back toward the library, her skirt swishing around her legs. Gretchen’s voice suddenly smacked her in the back of the head.
“What are you doing this weekend?”
Thelma stopped, but did not push her head completely over her shoulder to look back. She held her bag to her chest like a schoolgirl on her way home. “No plans. Why?”
“Let me get you out of that house, huh?”
Thelma suppressed the grin attempting to kill her. “All right. It’s a date.”
“Now, I didn’t say…” Gretchen was more flustered than any of the boys who attempted to talk to Thelma on her way home from school. It’s adorable. Especially the red on her face that almost matched the color of her shirt. “Nah. You’re right. It’s a date.”
This time, Thelma let her see the full brunt of her smile.
“I look forward to it.”
She hurried back to the library. When she found Sandy’s book right where she left it, she looked at the picture of her old lover on the back cover, wondering what it would have been like to grow old alongside her.
