Honeysuckle Love

“I guess I deserve to get spanked,” Clara admitted. She burst out laughing.

 

Ms. Debbie laughed too. “Help me wash these dishes, honey,” she said in between chuckles, and Clara followed her into the kitchen.

 

“I don’t know how to ask for help,” Clara admitted after several minutes of contented silence where the women stood at the sink washing and drying dinner plates, pots and pans.

 

“All right. Then how about I ask you questions and you answer?” Ms. Debbie offered.

 

Clara nodded.

 

“Are you too cold at night?”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“Will you tell me when you are?” Ms. Debbie asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good. Are you eating enough for dinner?”

 

“I think so,” Clara replied.

 

“Are you eating healthy things like vegetables?”

 

“Are canned vegetables healthy?” Clara asked.

 

“They’ll do.”

 

“Then yes.”

 

“All right. Are you too tired from working and then coming home and having to cook and take care of Beatrice?” Ms. Debbie asked.

 

“Beatrice can take care of herself. And yes, I’m tired, but not exhausted,” Clara replied.

 

“Beatrice cannot take care of herself, Clara. You know that. She needs you despite her little grown-up ways,” Ms. Debbie said.

 

Clara nodded.

 

“How are you doing at school? How are your grades?”

 

“We’re doing just fine at school,” Clara said. “Straight A’s.”

 

“What about having no hot water? Is it getting too hard to heat water for bathing?” Ms. Debbie asked.

 

Clara hesitated before answering. “It’s time-consuming,” she admitted. “Bea hasn’t been washing her hair as much as she should. I thought about showering at school sometimes but I can’t risk certain people finding out.”

 

Ms. Debbie put away the last pot then turned to face Clara. “Honey, why don’t you and Beatrice take showers here at night?”

 

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Clara said. She turned away because she felt the familiar stinging in her nose, the prelude before warm tears.

 

“You’re never a bother, Clara,” Ms. Debbie said gently. “Will you do this for me? It would make me very happy if you and Beatrice would start showering over here.”

 

Clara could not bring herself to look at her neighbor as she nodded.

 

“Good,” Ms. Debbie said. “Now go get your sister and your shower things.”

 

Clara wiped her face and nodded again. She walked to the door and reached for the handle then suddenly turned and ran towards Ms. Debbie. She wrapped the old woman in a desperate hug, crying into her shoulder as she felt Ms. Debbie’s chubby arms go around her to hold her close. Ms. Debbie stood there as long as Clara needed to be held, stroking her back and whispering funny things into her hair until Clara was no longer crying but laughing instead.

 

***

 

“I get frustrated giving you compliments,” Evan said running a hand through his dirty blond locks.

 

He and Clara were sitting on the couch in the finished basement of his parents’ house watching television. Clara came over after school and told him she could stay only until the end of Beatrice’s play practice. At first she was hesitant to come over. She wasn’t ready to meet his parents because she knew she would have to lie to them when they asked her questions. But thankfully they weren’t home. Both were still at work, and Evan’s brother was in play practice with Beatrice.

 

“You’re so cynical,” Evan went on. “You think I always have some ulterior motive, like the only thing I care about is getting into your pants.”

 

Clara blushed and grinned. “Well, isn’t that true?” she asked. “You are a boy, after all.”

 

Evan rolled his eyes. “Actually no, it’s not true. I like you. I think you’re pretty. You have a weird sense of humor, and I like it. I like the way you care for your sister.” He paused for a moment. “I imagine you’ll be a very good mother someday.”

 

Clara’s heart clenched tightly, a constriction she was not ready for, and she instinctively placed her hands over her chest. She let out a shallow breath wondering how someone’s words could affect her so much.

 

“Hmm. You liked that one,” Evan said smiling. It was a bit of a smug smile. “I got you with that one. What will you say now, Clara?”

 

She couldn’t say anything. She felt she couldn’t breathe and tried for a long, deep inhalation of air. Her heart relaxed then, and she drew in the air hungrily, releasing it slowly.

 

She looked at Evan.

 

“I don’t know how to have a boyfriend,” she said softly. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before. And you’re so nice to me. I don’t understand it when there are so many people at school who aren’t nice to me. I started thinking that I was just that person who people weren’t nice to.”

 

Evan snaked his arm around Clara’s waist, and she jumped. “Those people are assholes. You know that, right?”

 

Clara nodded.

 

“And you don’t have to know how to have a boyfriend,” he continued. “You just need to let me be one to you. You want to keep pushing me away, but I won’t let you.”

 

He tightened his arm around her, forcing her to lean into him. He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

 

“I’d very much like to kiss you if you’ll let me,” he said softly.

 

Clara’s heart raced. She wanted very much for him to, but she was scared. She’d never kissed a boy, but she knew he had probably kissed plenty of girls. And more. She would come off as inexperienced and ridiculous. She wondered if she should just be honest with him. If she blurted it out fast, then she couldn’t take it back. It would be there in the open for him to decide what to do with.

 

“I’ve never kissed a boy,” she said. She turned her face away, but he placed his hand on her cheek and forced her to look at him.

 

“So what?” he asked.

 

“I’m afraid I’ll be terrible at it,” she confessed, her eyes lowered so that he could only see the blackness of her long lashes.

 

“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to practice,” Evan replied.

 

She grinned and looked at him. “Don’t make light of it.”