Honeysuckle Love

“Why don’t we go somewhere?” she offered.

 

“Clara, it’s cold out here. Will you please let me in?” he asked, and gently pushed past her. He walked into the house and froze.

 

“Where’s the heat?” he demanded.

 

Clara shut the door feeling her face grow hot, even though the house was frigid.

 

She didn’t reply.

 

Evan turned around and looked at her. “You told me the electricity was back on.”

 

“Did I?” Clara asked. Evan stared at her and she stared back.

 

“Clara, it’s too cold, and you can’t live like this,” Evan decided.

 

Clara was already mad at Angela, and now she had someone standing in front of her to take it out on. “I’m doing the best that I can! I don’t make enough money to pay for everything. I’m trying to find a new job. It’s not so easy. No one wants to work around my schedule, my other job.”

 

“How much do you need?” Evan asked, and Clara looked appalled.

 

“Don’t you dare,” she seethed, feeling her eyes well up.

 

“I won’t let you live like this,” Evan replied. “How much, Clara?”

 

“I’m not taking money from you!”

 

“You’ll live in the dark, in the cold, instead?” he asked. “What about your sister, Clara? Think about her.”

 

“Don’t you dare bring her up!” Clara screamed. “This isn’t your problem! I didn’t ask you to come here! I don’t even know why you’re here. Why don’t you just leave?”

 

Evan looked around the living room, then walked into the kitchen. The bills were there, splayed out on the table along with Clara’s checkbook. He walked over to the table, and Clara sprinted after him. She tried to gather the papers quickly, but he saw what he needed.

 

“Get out of my house!” she screamed. She was beyond embarrassed, shaking and sweating. She couldn’t make sense of why she felt she’d been caught.

 

“Clara, I’m going to pay off your gas and electric bills,” Evan said calmly.

 

“No!” Clara cried. “I won’t take it!”

 

“I want you to go directly to the bank after school when I bring you the check on Monday.”

 

“Stop talking! I won’t take money from you!”

 

“Yes you will!” Evan shouted. He didn’t mean to, and he didn’t do it because he was exasperated with her resistance. He yelled because he was angry with himself, like he should have known the girls were still living like this, with no heat or lights. With no hot water. My God, he thought, how cold must they have been? He pictured them freezing at night, huddled together under all of the blankets in their house, shivering and scared.

 

He should have known that Clara was lying to him. She always had an excuse for his not coming over. They always went to his house or out somewhere. On the rare occasions when she allowed him to pick her up, she was always waiting for him, hurrying out of the house before he even made it up the walkway to her front door. He felt stupid, only now seeing the obvious signs. He should have known, and he meant to pay for his ignorance.

 

“It’s not your responsibility to help me.” Clara was crying and angry with herself that he saw her crying. Again.

 

He looked down at her clutching the bills to her chest, shoulders slumped and defeated.

 

“I’m not trying to make you feel helpless, Clara,” he said gently. “Or embarrassed. I care about you and Bea. I can’t walk out of this house knowing that I didn’t help you. I cannot allow you to live like this. And I won’t.”

 

Clara drew in a ragged breath. “It was going to be fine,” she whispered. “We were going to stay with Ms. Debbie.”

 

The thought of Ms. Debbie was too much. Saying her name broke Clara, and she let out a strangled sob.

 

“I miss her,” she cried. “She was so pushy and she got on my nerves constantly and she loved us so much.”

 

Evan put his arms around his girlfriend and let her cry into his chest.

 

“I feel guilty because she bought me those earrings and she didn’t have any money,” Clara went on. “But she loved us and wanted us to live with her because she had a good heart. And I kept pushing her away because of my pride and desire to prove I could do it on my own. But I can’t. I’m so tired. I can’t do it.”

 

Evan squeezed her. “You don’t have to do it by yourself,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

 

She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears, a look of determination on her face.

 

“I’ll pay you back,” she said, her voice shaking. “I will.”

 

“No you won’t,” Evan said.

 

“Please let me,” she begged.

 

“No, Clara,” he replied, wiping away her tears.

 

“Please,” she whispered, unable to continue fighting.

 

“No, Clara,” he said softly, and kissed her lips.

 

She shivered from his touch and from the chill in the room. He pulled her close, her body stretched tightly against him as her arms went around his neck. He kissed her with urgency, feeling that masculine urge to take care of, to protect. He crushed her to him as he kissed her harder, thinking that he wanted to take care of her. Forever.

 

***

 

Clara walked into her bedroom and switched on the overhead light. She squinted against its brightness—too bright, she thought—and promptly turned it off. She heard the familiar click of the heat turning on, rumbling low throughout the house, snaking its fingers through the ducts and out the vents, spreading and warming the tiny rooms of her home.

 

Clara struck a match and lit a candle. She set it on her nightstand then sat down on her bed. She looked up to find Beatrice standing in her doorway.

 

“I don’t like my light either, Clare-Bear,” Beatrice said. “But I do like the heat.”

 

Clara smiled and patted the space beside her on the bed. Beatrice walked over and plopped down.

 

“How did you manage it, Clare-Bear?” Beatrice asked. “And hot water, too?”

 

Clara wasn’t sure she should tell Beatrice, but she also knew she couldn’t lie. Beatrice would know immediately and then feel hurt by Clara’s deception.

 

“I have a very nice boyfriend,” Clara said finally.

 

Beatrice sat silent for a moment.