Old Town (Blogophilia 29.12)

“Who locked the door to the bathroom?”

It took a second, but I realized I’d walked into the linen closet again. You would think after three days, I would be able to maneuver in the dark. I have been here before, you would think I’d remember the layout. I could have said jet lag, but there wasn’t any even on the first day. I guess I’ll blame on the wine again. It’s as good scapegoat as any. I found my way to where I needed to be and did my business. It wasn’t worth going back to bed, so I padded into the kitchen to fire up some coffee.

The place was nice enough, 10th floor in Crystal City with the Rosslyn skyline across the tracks. One bedroom with a nice bath set up. She even remembered the Old Spice for me in the toiletries. It was kind of noisy, though. Train traffic providing an almost magic fingers vibration through the building. I was surprised Jane let me stay, but she wanted to be at the Old Town row house, if for no other reason as to keep control of the “festivities”.

The last time I was in town it was for Jane and Aunt Millie taking advantage of legally cementing the fact they were a couple and had been for years. A train whistle catches my attention. I look out on a double decker commuter train heading into the city. I wonder if I shouldn’t be on it, or at least a Metro to Reagan National and a flight home. I don’t know if I can handle this. Remembering the joy of their smiles and the sneaky three way dance we had at the reception, the continuation of our secret. Now, it’s one year later almost to the day, and it’s Millie’s funeral. I knew she wasn’t well at the wedding, but the adrenaline had kept her going.

Aunt Millie wasn’t a relative, just a spinster lady Mom used as a babysitter. Short and curvy, she smelled like roses when she hugged me. In proper Southern tradition, she was addressed as “Aunt.” The honorific was used to hide all sorts of sin and made adults respectable to children. Of course, I later found out differently. I wonder how much Mom really knew about Millie, but she trusted her with my life.

Pulling a cup out of the cabinet, I tried to pour a cup. My hand shook so bad I made a mess. A futile effort to lick the drips before they hit the table drove them to my bare legs. Any further up would have been ugly. Drying them with a dish towel, I settle down. Looking up, I see a shelf of leather bound cookbooks on the opposite wall. A tall one caught my eye and I brought it down to browse. It was a picture book of the significant buildings of Old Town. I opened to a picture of Christ Church and the memories began to flow.

It was 1985. Mom had died and I went to live with Millie and her friend Jane in the row house. Funny, I never referred to Jane as “aunt”, only Millie. I had just turned twelve and I had just begun to show some flamboyance in my appearance. School had let out for summer and I didn’t know anyone. The other kids weren’t friendly, thinking my Kajagoogoo hair flip was faggy. I suppose now they were right, but at the time I just shrugged off the snub. I wasn’t interested in their baseball, anyway. I’d spent my days walking over town.

The brick sidewalks of St. Alsaph St. never failed to fascinate me, with their herringbone patter. The different designs of the buildings even within the same block made me wonder how they were built. Some were painted or whitewashed, where others had their original brick facings. Some of the streets were asphalt while others still had their original cobblestones waiting to trip the unwary. Some days would take me through the Christ Church yard over to Market Square and over to the harbor, where I’d watch the boats skim along the river. I wondered how they managed to steer, but never got enough nerve to ask any of the men. They scared me.

One day towards the end of August, I came home just as the sun was going down. I was kind of late and wondered if I’d missed dinner. The ladies never said anything when I did, but I could hear Mom yelling in my head about needing to be home when I was. Funny how they don’t shut up even when they’re gone. Probably her attempt to keep me straight from the other side. Who knows?

The lights were out in the front room. Had Millie and Jane gone out? They had done that before and left food on the table for me. I would eat, put up my dishes and then go up to my room. I looked for a note on the entry table, but there was none. I could hear the radio playing in the kitchen. I then heard a low moaning noise like the neighbor’s cat when she was in heat. I tiptoed toward the doorway leaned my head so I could see. I shouldn’t have done that.

The ladies were topless behind the table close dancing. I was shocked. I had never seen Mom in anything other than I dress until she got sick, and even then it was only in a long gown with sleeves. Modesty was Godly and right and the body was to humbled. What I was seeing now was entirely the opposite. I had heard of breasts but had never seen one in the wild before and now there were to sets in all their glory. Millie’s were larger and droopy compared to Jane’s high set ones, but to my young eyes they were glorious. It looked like Millie was leading Jane in the space between the table and stove. Their hands were locked around their backs and kissing each other’s smiles. I ran into the door jamb with a clunk.

“Oh!” Millie pulled back, trying to cover herself. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Jane turned and I realized she didn’t have anything at all on. I could feel my cheeks burn.

“Hey, Kid.” She came over and put her arms around me. She smelled funny, a mixture of rose perfume similar to Millie’s and something out of the bathroom. She kissed my forehead.

Millie smiled. “I should be mad, but you finding us is our fault, not yours. I guess you’d like some supper.”

I nodded. Looking in the refrigerator, she found a french bread pizza and popped it in the microwave and slipped out of the room. Jane poured glasses of lemonade and sat me down at the table. Millie came back wearing a long t-shirt and tossed another one to Jane, who slipped it on right in front of me. I was speechless. The microwave beeped. Millie slid the plate right in front of me.

“Go on, Sweetie. Eat up.” She was smiling as if nothing had happened. Silently, I began to eat. I could feel in the inside of my mouth blister from the heat of the cheese. It was the only thing I hated about those things. The sauce seemed sweeter and spicier,though. I quickly drank my lemonade, which Jane promptly refilled.

When I was done, I rinsed my plate and glass and put them in the dishwasher and I was going to leave, but Jane stopped me.

“Kid, I need you to understand something.”

“Yes, Ma’am?” I wasn’t sure where this was going. Millie finished the thought in her soft, fluty voice.

“What you saw tonight needs to be our secret.”

Jane picked it the conversation.

“We like and love you. Do you understand?”

I hesitated. “I think so. And I think you love each other, kind of like a mom and dad.”

Both sets of arms ran around me in a big hug. I could feel each breast against me and I relaxed. I knew I was home. Millie whispered in my ear.

“Yes and we love you very much. But most people don’t like what they don’t understand, so they wouldn’t like us.” They released me. “Go get ready for bed.”

I had a skip in my step as I climbed the stairs toward the gable roof. After I changed into my pajamas, I sat in the window seat staring at the cobblestones. Everything was so different than it was with Mom. I mean, what Jane and Millie were doing was wrong...but it seemed so right. There was a soft knock on the door and Aunt Millie came in, the neckline of her shirt low enough to see paradise again. Taking my hand, she lead me to bed. Before lay down I asked her.

“Have you always...liked girls?”

She smiled.

“ It was a choice we made. Remember, when making your choices in life, don’t forget to live. That’s what Jane and I are doing.”

She pulled my head between my breasts and it seemed to go on forever. Mom was not a toucher or hugger. I knew she loved me, but even sick she had a “keep away” sense about her. I couldn’t even remember more than a touch of her hand and here this woman I was not even related to was bringing me close. I told her I would love her for ever as she closed the door and dreamed of being nestled safe between the two of them. When I woke, I knew I would keep their secret as long as it needed it to be, which was well into high school.

The tears flowed freely. Millie was gone and I wanted one last hug. But like everything else, it had to come to an end. I guess you’d call Jane a widow, but theirs was a relationship that defied definition. She was the center of attention again and that was a blessing keeping her mind off sorrow.

I felt the rumble of an Amtrak on the tracks below and looked at the empty cup. I guess I’d better get ready and get a bite to eat. Service was at 11 and she wouldn’t want me to be late.

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Topic: Rebecca S. Revels

Pic: Gerard Villegas

Pic guesses” Leather bound (in blog), musty, old library, ancient shelf, bookworm heaven, Gated. Forgotten.