Invisible, as Music Read online

  She looks at me.

  Henrietta thought hard, trying to recall the color of Amanda’s eyes. Or Joyce, the companion before her. Or any of the others. She couldn’t. She could picture them vaguely, in sketchy outline, but not fully formed. In her memories of them, her interactions with them, they were always busily doing something or looking elsewhere, anywhere but at her. They never seemed to want to see her.

  Or is it you who doesn’t wish to be seen?

  More unwelcome questions Henrietta couldn’t quiet. But they were forcing her to think about the ways in which she’d walled herself off ever since she’d gotten sick. It had been bad enough at the sanitarium, but at least there, she was one among many cripples. If they had to put up with patronizing doctors or sympathetic murmurs from visitors, they could commiserate with one another later. But after she’d come home, seemingly the lone polio cripple in this town—or at least the only one to return—it had felt the entire village’s eyes were focused on her every move. Even if she sometimes needed their help, she didn’t need their pity.

  But there was no pity in Meryn’s eyes. There was curiosity—not about her physical limitations—it was more a desire to know her. Now that she thought about it, Henrietta could see Meryn’s amusement as she ignored Henrietta’s rather pointed attempts to keep her at a distance. She didn’t simply refuse to stay outside Henrietta’s wall, she barged right through it.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by noise from the front of the house when the door opened. Henrietta got up from her stool, bracing one hand on the counter to lean over and retrieve her sketchpad.

  “Hank! I’m home.”

  Meryn’s entrance was like that tornado as she stomped through the house toward the studio. “Hi. Whatcha working on?”

  Henrietta reached for her crutches and carried her brushes to the sink.

  Meryn came over to study the half-finished painting on the easel. “The pond.” She leaned closer. “Wow, I love the colors. If I were painting this, I would have just used gray or blue or something. You’ve got an entire rainbow here, and it’s perfect.”

  Henrietta shook her head as she gently worked soap into the bristles. “Clouds aren’t white.”

  “I guess they aren’t. You make me look at things differently. I like that.”

  Henrietta paused and couldn’t help a small smile, which she immediately erased. Shaking the extra water from the brushes, she said, “Am I mistaken, or did I hear you address me as ‘Hank’?”

  Apparently immune to the ice in Henrietta’s voice, Meryn grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. I think four syllables is unreasonable for one person to be saddled with on a daily basis. Takes too long. Especially when I’m hungry. HEN-REE-ETT-AH. See? Hank is quick and easy. And we can eat sooner. I can have dinner fixed in the time it takes me to call you by your full name. How about hamburgers tonight? I’m starving.” Without waiting for an answer, she headed toward the kitchen.

  At the sink, Henrietta stared after her. “Hank,” she murmured. With another unwilling smile, she laid the brushes out to dry.

  The clock ticked closer to ten till the hour.

  “Make sure you read the next chapter before Friday,” Ryn said over the noise of backpacks zipping and chairs scraping the floor. “I’m pretty sure there will be a quiz.”

  There were a few groans and some grumbling as the students filed out of the classroom. Ryn gathered up her notes and headed up the back stairs to her office. On the landing, she paused to peer through the glass. Damn. Geary’s door was open and the light was on. She pulled the stairway door just wide enough to slip through, catching it as it closed to muffle the thump that would betray her presence. Walking as quietly as she could, she made her way to her broom closet to swap notes for her afternoon lecture, but before she could escape, he was there.

  “If I didn’t know better,” he drawled, taking up his favorite position of leaning against the doorframe to block her in, “I’d think you were trying to avoid me.”

  She didn’t glance up. “You give yourself too much credit.”

  His voice lost the drawl and became more clipped as he said, “You do realize, by next year, you’re going to be working for me.”

  She straightened. “I can pretty much promise you, that is never going to happen.”

  A befuddled expression settled over his face. “What do you— Have you heard something?”

  “Hi!”

  Geary jumped at the voice behind him.

  “Vanessa, hello,” Ryn said.

  Geary immediately sucked in his gut. “And who is this lovely young thing?”

  Ryn was about to tell him off, but Vanessa smiled up at him.

  “Vanessa Feldman. And you’re Professor Geary.”

  Ryn rolled her eyes as he gave Vanessa a toothy smile and reached for her hand.

  “Guilty as charged.” He held her hand in both of his. “Nice to meet you, Vanessa Feldman.”

  Ryn took advantage of the distraction to exit her office, pulling the door shut behind her.

  “Walk with me, Vanessa.”

  “Bye,” Vanessa said, reluctantly tugging her hand free and giving Geary a little wave.

  Ryn led the way down the hall toward the front stairs. “Stay away from him.”

  “Why? Is he—Oh. Sorry.”

  “Sorry? What are you sorry for?” Ryn glanced at her as they descended to the foyer of the building.

  “I don’t want to trespass.”

  “Trespass.” Ryn stopped and laughed so hard she thought she might pee herself. “You think I want that lout? No. I just don’t want him messing with you.”

  “I think he’s kind of cute.”

  “Cute? He’s old enough to be your father. Hell, he’s old enough to be my father.” Ryn shivered at the thought.

  Outside, a few students were tossing a Frisbee on the quad, while others stretched out in the sun, reading or talking.

  “Anyway, what brings you by?”

  “I miss you,” Vanessa said. “Things at Mrs. Middleston’s are so boring. Won’t you come back?”

  Ryn shook her head. “I like it where I am. Do you have a new roommate?”

  “God, yes,” Vanessa said melodramatically. “All she does is read and study. It’s awful.”

  Ryn hid a smile. “Maybe her study habits will rub off on you.”

  “That’s what my mother said.” Vanessa sighed. “I’m going crazy in this town.”

  Ryn considered. “I was thinking about going to Syracuse this weekend. Want to come?”

  Vanessa grabbed her arm. “You mean it? Really?”

  “Really. Saturday, nine o’clock sharp. We’ll have lunch, do some shopping.”

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Vanessa impulsively threw her arms around Ryn. “Thank you so much!”

  Vanessa bounced off. Ryn stared after her, shaking her head. She turned and realized the three young nuns—all wearing black dresses and short veils—were standing nearby, watching her. A fourth young woman, an athletic blonde, was with them. Ryn didn’t recognize her, but she gave them a quick nod and headed toward an adjacent hall for her next class. At the base of the stairs, she looked back and caught the blonde watching her. There was a little extra jaunt in her step as she took the stairs two at a time to her classroom.

  “Refill?”

  Meryn got to her feet to pour Henrietta a second cup of coffee. She claimed she found the aroma of coffee enticing, but insisted she couldn’t stand the taste. One shelf of the cupboard above the stove was now stocked with more types of tea than Henrietta had ever seen. She’d even tried some, but for a morning pick-me-up, she needed her coffee.

  “Thank you.”

  “I still think you should come with us,” Meryn said.

  “Not this time.” Henrietta stirred a bit of milk into her cup. “I’m going to a fall flower show with some friends.”

  Meryn opened her mouth as if to reply, but then apparently decided to fill her mouth with a bite of her peanut butter-and-jelly toast. />
  “You think that sounds stuffy?” Henrietta guessed, smiling behind her cup.

  Meryn shrugged. “Just not my thing. If Vanessa weren’t going, I’d bug you more about coming along, but I promised her. Not sure what got into me. She’s nice, but she’d drive you crazy.”

  Henrietta raised one eyebrow. “You think you know what would drive me crazy?”

  Meryn set her toast down and bounced in her seat, wagging her head from side to side as she put on a higher-pitched voice. “Oh, my God, this town is so boring. I’m stuck here for four years. My life will be over by the time I can escape from here.”

  Henrietta stared wide-eyed. “Thank you for sparing me this… adventure.”

  “Plus, she’ll probably bring her stuffed animals for a ride,” Meryn said mournfully.

  Henrietta snorted, startling herself. “And you associate with this individual?”

  “She’s sweet despite the immaturity. And I remember how I felt at that age, busting to get out of my small town, where everybody knew me, and I couldn’t do anything without my parents hearing about it before I even got home.”

  Meryn flung an arm out for dramatic effect. “Thus, I got me free and made for yon fair city.” She dropped her arm. “Except Pittsburgh is anything but fair.”

  She finished her breakfast and quickly washed the dishes for both of them. “Not sure when I’ll be home, but it’ll be before supper.”

  She bent to pick up her backpack and gave Henrietta’s shoulder a squeeze. “Have fun at your flower show, Hank. See you this evening.”

  The door banged shut behind her, but Henrietta sat like a statue, her shoulder throbbing as if it had been burned. No one touched her. Ever. The last person who had, had been her doctor, listening to her lungs last spring when she’d caught a cold.

  This is dangerous. Why are you allowing this to happen?

  Things had been so much better in the couple of weeks since this girl moved in. Meryn kept her door partially open in case Henrietta called out for her in the night, so that Henrietta was actually sleeping through the nights. She’d left little thank-you notes in her wing of the house on Wednesdays, notes that delighted Bonnie and shamed Henrietta, who had never thought to do something so whimsical and kind. She called Henrietta from her office to see what she was in the mood for for supper, in case she needed to pick something up at the market on her way home.

  Home.

  She called this house home. None of Henrietta’s other companions had ever done that. To them, this position had clearly been a job. Though Henrietta had never realized it, that arrangement had left her with an underlying feeling that she had to treat them as employees in order to not feel indebted. But when she tried to think of Meryn that way, the image just swirled away, like a dab of watercolor dropped into a bowl of water. The same way the girl was wriggling her way into Henrietta’s life, tinting what had been nothing but black and white and shades of gray, bringing bursts of color… and joy. It was already difficult to remember what things had been like before she was here.

  What happens when she leaves? You know she will. They all do.

  Henrietta looked at her watch. Her ride would be here soon. She got to her feet to gather her things. She needed to regain control of this situation. Now. Before it was too late.

  Ryn sat back in her chair, reading over the proposal she’d typed up for the women-and-history course. She’d spent most of yesterday compiling her notes and putting everything together. Satisfied, she hit the print command and saved her work to a floppy disk before scooping her notes from where they’d spread out around the computer she was using. Technically, she was supposed to have access to the department computer, but that was in Geary’s office, sitting on the empty desk of the professor who had retired. No way in hell was she going to work in there. So, she came to the computer lab at the library.

  She stuffed her notebook into her backpack and went to the staff desk, where the printer was located. Students apparently could use up printer ink more quickly than the cartridges could be refilled, and so had to pay for any printed pages. The dried-up old woman behind the desk looked as if she might disintegrate into dust if a stiff breeze blew through the building. She squinted from Ryn’s faculty ID to her face several times, as if certain it must be a forged document to avoid paying. At last, apparently satisfied that Ryn really was faculty, she grudgingly handed the pages over.

  Ryn thanked her and walked from the library to Rayburn, taking the steps two at a time. Peering around the door, she saw that Talbert’s office was dark, but Beverly was at her post.

  “Is he due back today?” Ryn nodded toward the empty office.

  “I believe so.” Beverly got up to check that the corridor was empty. “He’s meeting with the dean.” Her dismissive sniff gave a clear indication of what she thought of that news.

  Ryn held up her papers. “I have my proposal for the class I want to teach.”

  Beverly’s eyes lit up. “The one on women?”

  Ryn nodded.

  Beverly opened a file cabinet in the corner. “Let’s present it in its best light.” She produced a bright yellow folder and a hole punch. In a few seconds, she had the papers punched and neatly ensconced inside the folder. She quickly typed up a label with the title of the course and Ryn’s name and degree. Peeling off the adhesive backing, she positioned the label perfectly on the front of the folder.

  “We’ll place this right on his desk so he can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks so much.” Ryn bent down to pick up her backpack but then paused. “Do you have a second?”

  “Certainly.” Beverly gazed at her through her thick glasses. “Do we need tea for this?”

  Ryn chuckled. “We may.”

  Beverly quickly made tea for both of them. “Now,” she said, handing one mug to Ryn. “What’s on your mind?”

  Ryn frowned into her tea. “Have I— Do you know if Henrietta has said anything to your sister… Have I made her angry?”

  Beverly sat back. “Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, things seemed fine until this past weekend. I went to Syracuse, and she was going to a flower show. But ever since I got back, she’s been really cool and distant. I’m not sure if I did something to upset her. Dinners have been pretty quiet the last few nights, and after, she’s gone straight to her room to read until bedtime. It’s like she’s avoiding me.”

  “Bonnie hasn’t said anything. And she was just there yesterday.” Beverly sipped her tea, thinking. “Miss Cochran is not usually one to pussyfoot around things that have displeased her. She hasn’t said anything to you?”

  “No,” Ryn said, tapping a finger on the side of her mug. “But I’ve been calling her Henrietta—her suggestion that we go by first names. And…” She paused. “I’ve actually started calling her Hank. Do you think that bothers her?”

  Beverly choked and sputtered past the gulp of tea that seemed to have gone down the wrong pipe. “You call her what?”

  Ryn lifted one shoulder. “Hank. Henrietta just seems so formal.”

  Beverly goggled for a moment. “Heavens to Betsy.”

  “Too much?”

  When Beverly didn’t reply, Ryn’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” She drained her mug and sat up straight. “Guess I’ll apologize.”

  She washed both mugs in the women’s restroom and brought them back. “Wish me luck,” she said as she shouldered her backpack.

  She kicked at acorns and crunched through leaves as she walked. She drove if the weather was bad, but walked most days, though Henrietta’s house was more than twice as far from campus as Mrs. Middleston’s had been. The trek gave her more time to think. Today, her thoughts were not just of Henrietta but this growing restlessness she’d been feeling the last week or so.

  In Pittsburgh, there were a couple of gay bookstores that carried a few lesbian novels, stuck in a dark corner in the back. And just last year, Wildsisters had opened, giving the lesbian community a place
to gather to listen to music and dance. She and Ashley had gone nearly every weekend and sometimes during the week. Her search for something similar in Syracuse had been fruitless, hampered by Vanessa tagging along everywhere she’d gone that day.

  As much as Ryn liked Bluemont and the college, she was feeling the need to be around other women, other lesbians. It was like an itch she couldn’t scratch. Adding to the itch was the fact that she’d written Ashley a couple of times, but hadn’t heard back. She knew, surrounded by jocks in her work as a trainer for a college in Oregon, Ashley had almost certainly met someone else.

  “We said it was fine to move on,” she reminded herself. “No promises. No commitments.”

  But it still hurt that three years together could be tossed aside so easily.

  By the time she walked up the driveway, automatically giving Nelly a pat, she was in a foul mood. She unlocked the front door and went on through to her room without saying anything.

  She tossed her backpack onto the spare bed, kicked off her shoes, changed her clothes, and flopped on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She wasn’t ready to deal with Henrietta just yet. She didn’t even turn on her new boom box with a double cassette player—her one splurge since she was no longer paying rent.

  She had no idea how much time had passed before she heard the click of crutches.

  “Meryn? Are you there?”

  Ryn sighed and sat up. “I’m here.”

  “Are you ill?” Henrietta asked when Ryn emerged from the room.

  “No. Not ill.” Ryn moved past her toward the kitchen. “What would you like for supper?”

  “We can warm up some of the chicken and dumplings Bonnie made for us yesterday.”

  Ryn nodded and went to the kitchen. She got out a pan and spooned some of the leftovers into it, placing it on medium heat.

  Henrietta followed her, getting down bowls and glasses.

  “How was bridge this morning?” Ryn kept her back to Henrietta, occupying herself by stirring the contents of the pot unnecessarily.