The Sun Will Shine Again (A Lesbian Story)

Part 4

Zofia arrived home at 5:12 p.m. I know that because she shouted my name, and I turned to the clock and then the door. The door slammed and the TV shut off.

"Eve?" she called, worry in her voice. "Are you here?" I rushed into the den to greet her, not wanting her to think I left the apartment.

"I'm here!" I exclaimed, throwing the bedroom door open. "I was just standing by the window, admiring the view."

She snorted. "What view? Anyway, how was your day?" she asked, folding her light jacket over her arms.

"It wasn't bad," I told her. "I tried not to think about some things too much, although, there wasn't really a lot to do here. Oh, by the way, someone named Lucy stopped by earlier this morning. She said to call her."

"Alright, I will in a minute," Zofia replied, plopping onto the couch in her usual manner and pulling her cell from her back pocket.

"Oh, also," I began. "Can I ask for a favor?"

"Yeah, what is it?" She looked at me with concerned eyes, lowering the phone from her face.

"Would you mind walking me to the florist, and then the cemetery on South Avenue? I know it's a long way, but my house is in that direction. We could even stay the night there if you wanted."

"I'll go with you, but why don't we take a cab? It'll be much faster than walking, and I don't mind if you'd rather stay at your house tonight. I know it must be weird to be staying here alone with me. Would your parents be okay with me though?"

"I... I'm kind of afraid of vehicles, so I'd rather walk, and I'm sure my parents won't care if I bring you home with me."

"Any particular reason you're scared of vehicles?"

The scene of a truck speeding towards my brother and I flashed through my head. There was the impact, the car tumbling over, me climbing out through the broken window, and my brother just lying there, blood trickling down his clothes. I scream frantically as a passerby rushes to me and another one calls 911. The scene skips time: now I'm at a funeral, crying, with Cara holding me dearly. Even more time passes: I'm at another funeral - this time, Cara's.

I shook my head vigorously as I felt a stream of wetness dribble down my cheek to my chin and my heart pounding in my chest. I wiped my face with the back of my wrist. Zofia rose from the couch and stood in front of me. "Sorry," I said. "My brother died in a car accident." As I was wiping my face, her arms enveloped me, applying pressure on my torso and filling me with a sense of security.

"It's okay," she soothed. "There's nothing to apologize for."

"How come you seem so perfect, Zofia?" I cried. "You always seem like you know how to calm someone down and make them feel better. Yesterday, when we got here, I was so lost in my mind and everything was cloudy. I didn't know who you were, and I didn't care because you were being kind to me. But now my mind is clearer than it's been in days, and just...just...how do you do it?"

She rubbed my short black hair and ran her hand up and down my back. "I guess you could say I've had a lot of experience," she said. "Beatrix used to have frequent panic attacks because her father had abused her." I recalled the picture in Zofia's bedroom and how happy Beatrix had appeared. It's hard to believe that someone with a smile like that could be in such internal despair, but right now, in Zofia's arms, I felt as if she could reach into the depths of anyone's hell and pull them out of it. She let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Heh, and I am by no means perfect, but it means a lot to me that you think so. I had panic attacks, too, after she died, and Lucy forced herself into my apartment to make sure I wasn't going to kill myself."