Speak Low (Speak Easy 2)

“Oh, honey.” Bridget circled my shoulders with her arm. “You’ll know when you find it. It fills you up, so many good feelings, from your toes to the top of your head, until you think you might burst from it. You won’t be able to keep it inside of you—you’ll want to shout it and share it and give that person everything you have to give. And it still won’t feel like enough, but you’ll want to keep trying to show him how much he means to you. And the way he’ll love you back…” She sighed. “You’ll think it’s impossible that he loves you the way you love him, but he’ll do everything in his power to convince you otherwise. And love makes you do drastic things—look at what Vince and I did!”

I tried to smile. “Love sounds like a lot of work.”

She laughed. “It does take work, I won’t pretend it doesn’t. Both people have to be willing to make themselves vulnerable, to open up. It’s not easy to put your heart out there, to offer it up and ask for another’s heart in return. Especially for men—they never know exactly what to say, and sometimes it comes out terribly wrong.”

I thought of Joey asking me to come with him to Chicago without even telling me how he felt. Was that what she meant? Should I have recognized unspoken affection in his words? How the hell could I be expected to know? I closed my eyes, sighing. It was hopeless.

“What now?” she asked.

“Joey’s leaving.”

“And you don’t want him to?”

I shook my head. “No, but I had no idea what to say to stop him. He asked me last night for a reason to stay, and I couldn’t give him one.”

“He asked you to give him a reason to stay? And you couldn’t think of one?” She looked at my tearstained face incredulously.

I could. I could think of one, and I had—maybe I hadn’t been willing to admit it yet, even to myself.

But things change.

“I couldn’t then.” I stood and walked to the mirror over Bridget’s dresser, taking in my puffy, splotchy face. “But I think I can now.” I turned to face her. “Can the girls stay with you tonight? There’s something I have to do.”

#

After leaving Bridget’s, I went home and took a bath, lingering for a long time in warm water I’d scented with a little vanilla extract. I’d thought about something fancier, like rosewater or lavender, but decided Joey would find vanilla harder to resist.

I needed to be irresistible.

I washed my hair with Cocoanut Oil shampoo and combed it out, then I pinned curls to my head and let it dry. Choosing an outfit was a bit of a problem, since I didn’t want to wear anything too fancy but my day dresses weren’t romantic at all. After agonizing over it for two hours, I chose a simple navy dress with white piping that had been at the back of my tiny closet all summer since it had a tear near the hem and I hadn’t felt like mending it. Locating a needle and a spool of navy thread in my sewing kit, I sat on my bed in my black stockings and white chemise and stitched up the tear.

It wasn’t as bad as I remembered.

See, broken things can be repaired. Torn cloth can be mended. Apologies offered.

Feelings declared.

As long as I had the guts to do it.

Around three o’clock, I walked to the streetcar stop and took a car heading downtown. As I hurried on foot to the restaurant, I tried to calm my swirling stomach by reminding myself it was just Joey I was going to see. There was no reason to be scared.

But there is, worried a voice inside me. He could turn me away, he could tell me I’m too late, or worse—he could tell me I was mistaken about what I felt, or what I imagined he felt.

But I hadn’t imagined it last night, I knew I hadn’t. When we’d finally come together on the sofa—well, on the floor near the sofa—it was just as Bridget had described. I’d felt so full of passion and relief and want and need and shock and happiness—so many feelings I couldn’t even name them all. But it added up to one thing, and I couldn’t stop thinking it.

I was in love with him.

I was in love with him.

I was in love with him.

And I wanted to say it to his face.

My stomach tightened. Would he kiss me when I told him? Would he pull me to him like he had last night? Would he let me tear the clothing from his body? Will he throw me down and ravage me the way I want him to, and let me ravage him in return?

The thought was enough to make the muscles in my lower body seize up, and I stopped walking. Closing my eyes, I whispered a prayer.

Dear God, please avert your eyes tonight. Because I’m going to do things to Joey Lupo I have never done before, things I’ve never even imagined doing before.