Love Lost in the Storm

August 3rd, 1954 - Vermont

Mary and Susan run through the storm laughing and jumping into puddles to get each other wet, even though they are already soaked to the bone. Summer dresses of blue and yellow cling to their soft skin while their loafers turn brown with mud and leaves. Mary’s long golden hair has now fallen from her pins and is clinging to her rosy cheeks. Susan’s shorter brunette cut stands up in places it never has before. Their delighted faces glow in the moonlight as they gently hold on to each other and continue their journey towards their homes.

They did not have the intention of getting stuck in the rain, but the afternoon easily escaped them as they were having such a wonderful time at the summer county fair. They had ridden the merry-go-round; the Ferris wheel and threw metal rings around glass milk bottles.

The girls spent nearly every day together and now, just a week before they parted ways, with Susan moving to Albany for university, they were absolutely inseparable.

Susan is the first to notice they have arrived at the abandoned barn tucked on the edge of an overgrown field.

“Mary, over there!” she calls over her shoulder just as thunder bellows up above. “We can wait out the storm in the barn.”

Mary follows Susan’s gaze and hesitates.

“Susan, it looks frightening. We should keep going to the bridge.”

Susan gives Mary’s arm a tug as she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, don’t be such a scaredy cat, Mary Woodworth!” Susan laughs. “We’ve been in there before. Last autumn, remember?”

“Yes, I remember it was daytime and there were kittens.” Mary shudders as lightening cracks open the sky.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Susan picks up her pace towards the barn. Mary follows close behind to not be left alone in the darkness of the night.

The girls step into the doorless entrance, the cool air has a mixed scent of straw, rotting wood and mildew. The dilapidated barn is empty aside from a rusted plow, the head of a shovel and some piles of hay.

Mary rings her soaked hair between her hands as the rain continues to pour just behind her.

“Like that’s going to do you any good.” Susan smirks. Susan shakes her head from side to side and water sprays in Mary’s face.

“Susan!” Mary gasps. “You rascal!”

The girls laugh. Mary turns to look back out into the storm.

“It’s hard to imagine living so far away from each other.” Susan stands behind Mary and starts to pull out the loose pins from her wet hair. She braids the silky light strands all together down her back. Mary reaches back and pulls Susan’s arms around her waist to feel her dearest friend’s loving embrace.

“I know, I can’t even fathom it, Susan.” Mary pivots to look earnestly into Susan’s dark brown eyes. “I’ll write to you twice a week, every week. I promise. That’s thirty-two letters until I see you for Christmas and then I’ll send you thirty-two more before I come visit in the spring.”

Susan smiles but is unable to hide the sorrow she feels. She quickly tries to cover it, finding herself feeling vulnerable.

“You certainly are smart, especially in math, but you’re an absolute fool for not attending university, Mary.” Mary lets out a sigh as they’ve had this conversation many times.

“You’re going to be brilliant in Albany, Susan, I admire you for it, but I’m perfectly content staying here and settling down.”

Susan steps back exacerbated with her friend’s decision.

“Settling down at eighteen should be a crime, Mary. The world is changing now. More and more women are going to start attending college and you’re going to miss out on it. We could be the pioneers of—”

A tiny mouse interrupts Susan’s thought as it scurries between the girl’s feet. As Mary looks down to see what Susan sees, a large barn owl swoops from the beams to capture dinner with his wings practically brushing against the girl’s foreheads. Their startled hearts leap to their throats as they both fall back into the hay. Mary lets out high-pitched squeals and bats her hands in front of her face, combatting nothing but air as the owl has already returned to a dark corner of the barn, frustrated having lost his helpless prize.

Susan recovers and smiles at Mary. She shifts over to her and gently pulls her hands down to show that there is no longer a threat.

“It’s okay, Mary. It was just an owl.” Susan tries to comfort her friend who is continuing to panic.

“JUST AN OWL! I swear, Susan. I told you we should have gone to the bridge instead of--” Mary frantically speaks in between quick inhalations. Susan can’t help but laugh. She places her hands on Mary’s face and turns her towards her.

“Mary, you are such a ninny.” Mary sees Susan’s grin and finally takes a deep breath. She lets out a gentle laugh, embarrassed with herself.

Susan feels a familiar pull that she can no longer ignore. She slowly leans closer to Mary and places her lips, cold from the weather but warm with desire, onto her friend’s. Mary feels a moment of temptation but quickly pulls back and jumps up with a flash of lightening illuminating behind her. Susan stands to explain.

“What on earth are you doing, Susan?!” Mary yells. “What was that?!”

“Mary, I—I just, I’ve had these feelings for some time now and I thought that—” Susan stutters her reasoning but can’t find the words as fear swims through her body.

“I’m not—I’m not that way, Susan! You— I didn’t know, you! All this time?! Why would you do this to me? To us? I—” Without another word Mary turns and runs back into the storm at full speed. Susan quickly chases after her.

“Mary! Wait! Please! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me.” Susan cries out, trying to keep up with Mary’s stride. Mary suddenly stops and turns, breathing heavy, her eyes full of anger.

“Susan! Stop!” Mary takes a moment that seems to last a grueling eternity for Susan. “We must never see each other again. Do you hear me? If our parents knew of this—if anyone knew of this. How on earth would I be able to find a husband if everyone thought I was—”

“Mary, I won’t tell a soul. I’m so sorry. It was just a momentary lapse of sanity, I promise!” Susan attempts to justify what happened, though she truly thought Mary felt the same way. Mary raises her hand to stop her.

“Stop. We’re through being friends. Please don’t come by the house. Please don’t call, don’t write. Don’t ever say a word to me again.” Tears pour down Mary’s face as she tries to remain firm.

“Mary—” Susan whispers as Mary turns and continues to run off into the distance. Susan is left all alone in the pouring rain. She falls to the soaked ground and sobs into her hands.

July 17th, 1994 – California

Susan pulls into the driveway of her modest home that is set in the enchanting Mojave Desert. She still wears her hair short, but the deep brown is now peppered with white. She’s wearing a crisp pin striped pant suit that she can’t wait to remove as she’s been fantasizing about her sweats the entire two-hour drive from Los Angeles.

Susan grabs her briefcase from the passenger seat and finds her mailbox empty. She enters her house and is welcomed by her partner Linda. Linda’s grey streaked hair falls effortlessly past her shoulders. She wears a flowing floral dress and Susan lovingly admires her elegance as she approaches.

“Hi honey.” Linda gives her a warm kiss and takes her briefcase off her hands. “How was the lecture?”

“I’m getting too old for this, baby.” The women laugh.

“Too old?” Linda sets Susan’s briefcase down and wraps her arms around her waist. “The young women of the world need you more than ever, my dear. You just have to suck it up for a few more decades.”

“Decades?! I’ll give the world five more years of my beautiful brain and then I’ll be spending the remainder of my life on the back patio watching the sun set with you each night.” Susan brings Linda’s hands to her mouth and covers her knuckles with soft pecks.

“Oh, what a dream… however, you did promise me an RV on my sixtieth, so fat chance babe.” Linda grabs her own car keys that are hanging by the door. “I’m off to the store for some bell peppers, eggs and bread. Need anything?”

“I’m alright, sweetheart. Hurry home.” The two women kiss once more goodbye. Their affection towards one another has remained strong for thirty years now and there is no doubt their love will continue on for thirty more.

Linda turns to leave. She opens the door and looks back over her shoulder.

“Oh! You have a package in the dining room. I left it on the table. See you in a bit, Suzie.” Linda exits while blowing a kiss.

Susan kicks off her pumps, unbuttons her jacket and slowly strolls towards the dining room. She sees a large rectangle parcel wrapped in brown paper on the table. Her name and address are written in a near perfect cursive script but there is no return address to be found. Puzzled, Susan turns the package and unwraps it. She is shocked to find a golden picture frame housing a stunning watercolor painting of a barn owl souring through the night sky.

Susan feels a slight ache in her heart, but she doesn’t allow herself to jump to conclusions. She finds a letter tucked in the corner of the frame and opens it.

Dear Susan,

I am afraid this letter is long overdue. I have written it a dozen times, but I was always too fearful to actually bring it to the post office.

It was fear that made me treat you so poorly that night in 1954. We could have worked it all out if I wasn’t so terrified of what others thought of me.

The truth is, I loved you with my entire heart, Susan. I felt such inner turmoil any time we would separate, even if it was just to go home for the night. You were the very first thing I would think of each morning. I didn’t know what to do with these feelings. I was terrified.

I have never stopped hating myself for abandoning you in that storm. It continues to haunt me to this day. I’m not asking for your forgiveness; I just want you to know the truth.

I have always admired your bravery and your fierce ability to speak your mind and follow your heart without judgement. I have kept up on what you have been up to and your incredible accomplishments within the feminist movement. Though I’m not surprised by your societal impact and success, I applaud you to no end.

I have found my own sort of happiness with Robert and the children but the owl that forced us into facing our truths still visits me in my dreams. I paint to escape the reality I’ve created for myself that may not be as honest as yours, but it will have to do.

Susan, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry. I’m not expecting to hear back from you but if I’m able to successfully deliver this then at least I am braver than I was forty years ago.

Be well,

Mary

Susan wipes a tear from her cheek and looks back at the beautiful owl. She feels an old wound begin to heal within her and longs for her partner Linda's comforting return.