Page 21 of Maybe Some Other Time

Thelma took one of those hands and brought it down to the table. Once she realized what she had done, both she and Gretchen stared at their hands as if they were as natural as two friends sharing something as deep as the pain they inevitably shared.

It was Thelma who untangled their hands first. But she didn’t apologize.

“I have a son.”

Gretchen regathered her bearings. “How old?”

Thelma said what was true in her mother’s heart. “Eight. The last I saw him, he was ill.”

Her host did the math. “You had him when you were twenty?”

Thelma nodded. “I dropped out of college to get married. It was what girls did in my community. You basically went to college to have something to do while looking for a husband. I found one. William.” She hoped Gretchen didn’t know about “Bill.” Heck, she counted on it.

“That’s wild. I only hear about that in cults, to be fair.”

Laughing, Thelma crossed one leg over the other as she leaned back in her chair. “It’s a place stuck in a different time.”

“Where’s your son now?”

“He’s, um…” Well, he’s out with the boys, whoever they are.

Hooting, hollering, and drinking, probably.

If he’s anything like his father. “He’s with family.

It was best for all of us that I leave him behind with people who could take care of him.

Actually, didn’t really have a choice. After his father died…

I mean… it’s really complicated. I probably shouldn’t have even said this much. ”

Gretchen remained in awe over what she had heard. “I had no idea. I mean, just looking at you… I’d never guess you’ve been married and had two kids. You look great. ”

Thelma was so stunned by that response that she almost forgot to laugh again.

“Thank you. I’ve honestly been through the wringer these past few weeks.

I didn’t expect to move in with Robbie so suddenly.

I’ve never even met Megan before. Now we all live together.

I don’t have a husband. My daughter is… well, she’s essentially gone.

I have to face that, you know? As for my son…

it’s almost better if he doesn’t know me at all. ”

“Everyone’s got a crazy story, right?” Gretchen said. “Still, that’s wild. In this day and age. I mean, there were girls in my class who were really religious or caught up in the gang life. It was like two extremes, right? Those were the types most likely to get married and have kids.”

Thelma sat with her cooling tea for a minute, taking in the ticking clock in the living room and the gentle hum of the light above her.

If I close my eyes, it’s like being home.

Ticking clocks. Humming electricity. Crickets in the distance.

The closing of car doors and the occasional shriek of a child getting into trouble.

All that was missing were the ever-present tones of Danny Thomas and Marshal Matt Dillon, be they from the television or the radio.

And Bill’s voice. Whether he was on the telephone with his mother in Inglewood or chatting with neighbors on the back porch…

Thelma missed him. When she thought of Bill, she thought of his companionship, his silly jokes, and the goofy faces he made at the kids when they were little to make them stop crying so Thelma could steal a nap for a few minutes.

He was no gourmet in the kitchen, but she recalled being excited about the toasted cheese he had perfected in the Army to the point his nickname had been Van der Cheese.

And he could dance. Really dance. The simple things that had shown the kind of committed but gentle soul she could marry without too many worries.

He had been a good provider and a sweet but firm father.

If only I were physically attracted to him.

Bill had been her best friend. She realized that now.

But wasn’t that how it was? Women had to find a husband. They didn’t get much say in how many children they had. The best they could do was find a good husband who wouldn’t be too intolerable.

“So!” Thelma slapped her hands on the table, making Gretchen jump.

Get me off this train. Now. She wanted to stop thinking about a man who was now dead.

About a lesbian lover who was now dead. Her daughter, who was soon dead.

And her son… who would rather she stay dead.

“What’s your crazy story? Quid pro quo! I’ve told you about my husband and my kids. ”

“Gosh…” Those uneasy chuckles were Gretchen’s tacit response to being put on the spot.

Thelma settled into her seat, making herself comfortable—something she had gotten used to since coming to this time period.

Women take up space now. Besides, how else was she to get acclimated in a strange new world if she didn’t just assert herself as if she belonged there?

“I dunno. You already know about my dead parents.”

“Surely, you have an ex.”

Of all things, that was what made Gretchen laugh so hard and so wonderfully loudly that she nearly tipped over her mug of tea.

“Should I not have said something?” Thelma struggled to say through the kind of gasping giggles that made it hard to speak.

“Jesus,” Gretchen choked, clearing her throat and waving her hand at her face as her heart-shaped cheeks turned pink. “Clocked me harder than my ex when she broke up with me.”

She? There it was. The thing Thelma had wondered about… but not too deeply, because she was the Tommy Spotter. I dedicate that power to you, Sandy. Thelma joined in with more giggles, imagining how the Sandy of 1958 would have reacted to this scene.

“Clocked?” she finally asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Gretchen stole a large drink of tea to settle her voice.

“I mean it figuratively, of course. She never actually hit me.” So, that’s what that means?

“My ex, Amy. We broke up years ago, but it kinda feels like yesterday. We even lived together for a while. In an apartment, not this house. I didn’t move back home until I officially gave up on college, and the housing market got so screwed that I couldn’t afford anything else.

My parents took me in shortly before they both died. Got the house.”

“Tell me more about your ex.”

“Why?”

Thelma shrugged. “Where I come from, most homosexuals keep it underground. Outside of my friend Sandy, I knew so few when married to William.”

“Wow,” Gretchen said. “I haven’t heard ‘homosexual’ in years. You say it so nicely.”

Duly noted. Thelma should figure out what words to say instead. “I guess I’m old-fashioned like that. Blame how I was raised.”

“I’m used to hearing that from the Christians. No offense to any you may know.”

“Do you think Lutherans spend an inordinate amount of time protesting against homosexuals?”

“I honestly don’t know what Lutherans do. What even are Lutherans?”

“They’re named after Martin Luther!” Gretchen exasperatedly responded. “How could you not put those two things together?”

“Martin Luther King?”

Thelma only knew who that was because of her recent history lessons.

“Clearly, he was named after the original Martin Luther, who put up the Ninety-five Theses to challenge the authority of the Vatican because it had become so corrupt and fallen in the eyes of the Lord.” When Gretchen continued to blankly stare in her direction, Thelma continued, “Martin Luther was behind the Protestant Reformation. Surely, they still teach that in school.”

“I honestly do not know. I mostly slept through History class.”

If only I could. “Sorry.” Thelma sighed.

“The things I know and the things that the people of this city know are so at odds at times. I come from an environment where everyone knows their Bible stories, even if they’re not a believer.

Even my friend Sandy and I would talk about our favorite women from the Bible. ”

“Uh, who’s yours?”

“Ruth, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” Gretchen wrinkled her nose as if that was supposed to mean anything to her. “What was hers?”

“Jezebel!”

“Hey, I know that one. Don’t worry. I love a good Jezebel.”

Once again, she had taken Thelma aback. Yet, this time, it was with a slight nod and a flirtatious tone that implied Thelma was welcome to flirt back.

Dare I? She hadn’t opened flirtations with a woman since Sandy first tried to kiss her back in college.

I was so nervous. So na?ve. Thelma was the type of girl who wanted to try anything and everything—within reason.

And sex with a woman as pretty, soft, and tender as Sandy was definitely within reason.

But she had pushed Sandy away the first time the other girl tried something.

Sandy was so afraid of me afterward that I had to go out of my way to find her.

And flirt with her. To make her intentions clear once the initial shock of being attracted to another woman wore off.

She didn’t want to make that mistake again. Especially with someone who had become one of her first friends in this new world, who knew nothing about her.

So, maybe she shouldn’t flirt right now. She might do it wrong. She might accidentally offend the attractive neighbor who had invited Thelma into her home.

Headlights flashed in the living room window. Thelma immediately got up, announcing, “That must be Robbie. He said he was out late tonight.”

“Oh.” Gretchen slowly got up as well. “Are you on curfew or something?”

“Huh? Of course not. I just don’t have a phone thing, you know. He might worry about me if I’m not home yet.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“Is that weird?”

“What part of California are you from, again? Central-East?”

Thelma thanked her for the tea and, grabbing her purse, headed outside to intercept her son in the driveway. Robbie fiddled with his keys by his SUV and looked up to see Thelma coming from the neighbor’s.

“Welcome home,” she said. “Did you have a nice time tonight with your friends?”

Robbie looked between her and the other woman also coming out of the same house. “Hey, Rob,” Gretchen said, staying by the gate between their properties.