Rescued

"Survivor's guilt."

Okay, so shehadbeen listening.

"And it's a normal, healthy reaction to what happened down there. Except, you're forgetting about all the people youdidhelp. The ones you rescued. I mean, you said you worked 12 hours a day, and most of the people you encountered were desperate, waiting for someone to help them...and you did that. You took the time out of your life, when you could have just turned the channel, or turned a blind eye. You took the time out of your life, days you will never get back, and you gave them to these people. Strangers. And for what? You didn't get paid. You don't get any awards or anything. You don't have your face plastered all over TV. You did it why?"

I knew she was right, but I didn't really know what to say. She didn't let it go.

"Why did you do it Tess?"

Oh my God, the sound of my name on her lips...focus Tess. Focus.

"Because someone had to do it."

"Yeah, but not you. Why didyoudo it?"

I was confused by her question. It was the right thing to do, that's why? I don't know why I did it otherwise.

"Tell me," she pushed.

I sighed, "I don't know. Because a part of me felt Ihadto do it. Because, those people needed help and I am in a position to help them. Because...it was the right thing to do."

She nodded, replacing her soda on the tray and staring straight into my eyes.

"And you got off your ass and did the right thing. Right?"

I nodded, feeling the weight on my chest lift just a little. I closed my eyes, thinking about what she'd said for a moment, and I knew she was right. We'd lost so many, but we saved a lot of people too. And I could see in my mind's eye the children who had been left behind, reuniting with their families, and the elderly who had been terrified, so grateful we were there to help them...I could see the relief on all those faces, the joy that this part of the horror story was over, the gratitude that we were there...I'd forgotten about those images, letting the horrible ones squeeze them out. When I opened my eyes, I felt a little different. Not great, but a little better. Frankie watched me for a moment, winked, and then stood to leave.

It was my turn as we walked back to her office.

"You didn't tell me about the promotion," I chastised.

She groaned, "what promotion? The new headache I'll be living with for the next two years at least?" She said bitterly.

I realized, suddenly, that maybe she hadn't mentioned it because she didn't see it as good news.

"You didn't want the job?"

"My idiot supervisor was one of the people fired. I have seniority. The person next in line is another fucking idiot, so I didn't want her to get the position."

I was getting the picture. But she seemed pretty skilled, knowledgeable, and experienced, so I wasn't sure why she didn't want the position. The hospital was pretty crowded as we made our way through the maze, so I had to wait until we were back in her office to ask.

"Why didn't I want the job? It's headache, after headache, after headache. I have to deal with all the complaints, from patients, doctors, nursesandAdministration. Any problems with a social worker, I have to address it. That means I have to keep tabs on over 30 social workers employed at this hospital, full-time and part-time. Add the squabbles about extra shifts, mandated over time and all the other nonsense. And if too many people call out, who has to fill in until I can find someone else to cover the shift? I do."

She sighed, leaning against her desk, her long legs stretched out in front of her, her arms crossed over her rather small breasts. I could see the signs of strain and frustration on her face that I'd been too preoccupied to notice before. She certainly looked less carefree than she had a few weeks ago. I felt bad for her all of a sudden. At the same time, I couldn't think of a more capable person to do the job, which I told her.

She leaned her head back and laughed, a deep, throaty, sexy laugh that sent tingles through my entire body. God, did this woman know how absolutely stunning she was?

"You've only known me for a few weeks, but you think I'm the best man for the job, huh?" She teased.

I didn't respond, too busy trying to recuperate from her laugh. I was standing beside the door, intending to leave so she could get back to work, but before I knew it, she was standing in front of me...really close...her scent dancing in my nostrils...the feel of her in my personal space wreaking havoc on my senses. She didn't give me a chance to answer her question. Instead, she leaned in and placed her lips against mine, softly...tenderly...sweetly. She tasted of tuna, and mints...and something I could not name, I could only feel it. Feel it in the pit of my stomach, feel it squeezing my chest, feel it down to my toes. I moved closer to her, my mouth parting just a bit so she could explore...her tongue penetrating, stroking, searching...staking claim...making me dizzy. I don't know how long she kissed me, how long she worked her magic, stealing her way into my heart...into my soul...it seemed like time had ceased moving. So, it took a moment for me to hear the shrill ring of the telephone on her desk. And I felt a part of me was lost when she sighed into my mouth, her tongue stroking my bottom lip as she ended the kiss. She took a step back, staring with those hypnotic golden orbs into my dark eyes for a moment, cementing whatever had passed between us, before she quickly made her way to her desk and snatched up the receiver.

It seemed our time was up. Her second line was ringing and then there was an impatient knock on her office door. I waited until she glanced over at me, waving and indicating she should call me, before I slipped out of her office to make my way back to my car.

On the drive back to New York, I thought about what she'd said. I think I'd forgotten why I rushed into those disaster areas. I wanted to help. I wanted to give back. And I was doing that, even though some of the people could not be saved. I think I just needed to hear someone else say it. To remind me that I wasn't crazy, or stupid, or seeking validation in some way. I'd just wanted to do what was right and this was my way of doing it.

Those thoughts were easier to deal with than the other thoughts. The thoughts about Frankie, how attracted I was to her, how much I enjoyed her company...how much I wanted to spend more time with her. But she and I were busy women and I knew I really should not start to develop an attachment to her. I wasn't even sure she liked me as much as I liked her. And the last thing I needed was to set myself up for rejection. I didn't want to hear 'look, we live 100 miles apart and I have a life,' or 'I'm too busy to get involved,' or, for all I knew, 'I'm already seeing someone, I thought we were just having fun.' I mean, it's not like we'd talked about our relationship statuses. Maybe she'd just ended a long relationship and wanted to play the field for a while. Or maybe I was rebound girl. Who knew?

Although I seemed to be having a bit of an identity crises, there was a part of myself I still trusted. And that part told me Frankie was not the type of person to play games. I didn't know exactly what type of relationship she was seeking, but I had to trust the part of me that knew she was most likely single and she was interested in me. Beyond that, I just didn't know.

I made good time on the New Jersey turnpike. It was still early enough for me to review my lesson plan for the next day, watch a little television and take a nice, long, hot shower before bed. She didn't call before my eyes closed for the night, but I had to give her credit for giving me enough peace of mind to actually sleep.

***

The next three weeks passed rather quickly, and without a visit from Frankie. She called a few times, but I could tell she sounded a little frazzled and over-worked. I figured the job was taking its toll on her, so I decided not to pressure her with any more unannounced visits. She didn't need to think about her relationship with me when clearly her world had been turned upside down with the promotion. Besides, I told myself, I needed to get my own sense of self together before I dove headfirst into another relationship. My last one, almost three years ago, had left me devastated. She'd been a struggling artist, with a great deal of talent in my opinion. But she was also a liar and a manipulator. I'd heard the rumors about her and other women, but turned a blind eye because I didn't want it to be true. But when I tested positive for an STD...well, there really was no way to hide fromthattruth. So, taking a small bite out of my savings, I found her an apartment, paid her rent for six months, bought her a used car, gave her some traveling money, and wished her well. I hadn't heard from her since.

Getting burned like that...well, it supposedly made a person more cautious. And yet here I was, ready to fall in love with Frankie. It was nuts, if you thought about it. I should have learned my lesson. But the heart wanted what the heart wanted...and I guess mine was tuned into Frances Young.

***

I'd had a particularly grueling day, with lots of whining and complaining from my students, a formal sanction from my Principal for using materials not approved by the School Board, and a cancelation from Justine for dinner. It was Friday and I had decided to veg out in front of the television with a quart of ice cream and a glass of white wine, feeling frustrated and a little sorry for myself. I was, of course, wearing a certain someone's Eagles' tee shirt. It was the only thing that had made me smile all day. I thought perhaps the tee shirt had special powers because I was wearing it, and thinking about her...and then someone knocked on my door around midnight. A late night visit, unannounced? It could only be one person...

Unfortunately it was not who I was expecting. She'd cut her dreadlocks off. She was now sporting a short, kinky afro...it actually looked good on her. She had on a tank top, a denim jacket and a pair of tight jeans that probably cost more than my monthly rent. She was slimmer, still a little curvy...honey brown, with piercing amber colored eyes and a killer smile...my ex, Wilma.

"Hi babe."

I raised a brow, pretty sure she'd lost the right to call me that when I tested positive for trich. Still, I stepped aside and let her in. While she was still quite attractive, I did notice the shadows under her eyes and the stress lines around her mouth. Something was wrong and I was sure I was about to hear about it.

When I closed the door I turned to face her, my brow still raised.

"Okay, I know you're probably still pissed at me, but...look...I lost my job and they kicked me out of my apartment."

I waited, not cutting her any slack. Once I would have cared about her predicament. At the moment, considering I had been hoping to see someone who was tall, dark-skinned and gorgeous, I wasn't sure I gave a damn.

"How the hell did you find me?" I'm not sure why it was my first question, but it bothered me that she'd been able to track me down.

"Justy, of course. Although I had to beg."

I promised silently I would find a way to make Justine pay.

"Sell the car," I suggested.

"I already sold it."

Of course she had.

"I'm strapped Earthy...please?"

I winced at the nickname. It was supposed to be a play on Bertha, one that supposedly made the name a little less hideous. But it had never worked and I'd asked her to stop calling me that years ago...a plea that had obviously fallen on deaf ears.

I took a moment to glance around my apartment. It was nice-sized one bedroom apartment and okay for one person...me. It wasn't huge and it wasn't small, it was just perfect. But two people living here, one that was a little less concerned about cleaning up after herself? I didn't know how that would work. But she and I had dated for four years...I wasn't going to leave her out on the street.

"How long?" I finally asked, sighing.

I knew that smile. It was her victory smile. It was the smile I'd seen a few times after she'd convinced me, yet again, that she wasn't cheating. Ignoring the feeling of dread creeping up my spine, I listened to her promises about crashing on my sofa for only a few days, a statement we both knew was bullshit. I told her she could share the bedroom with me, primarily because I could not stand the idea of her junk all over the living room. When she smiled slyly at my offer to share the bedroom, I assured her I had an air mattress that would be quite comfortable for her. That dimmed her gloating smile a little, but not enough in my opinion. I knew she was up to something, I just didn't know what. I was hoping she wasn't going to try for a reconciliation. The thought of it was a little nauseating, much like the thought of the STD she'd given me.

*

The next evening, as I reviewed my lesson plan for Monday, my cell rang. It took me a moment to find it, now that Wilma's paints, brushes, canvases and clothes were all over the place. When I did find it, I was quite pleased to hear the voice on the other end. It was weird, but for a moment I felt a little uncomfortable speaking with someone I soon hoped to be dating while my ex was sitting a few feet away polishing her toenails. I had to force myself to remember that it wasmyapartment,Ipaid the rent, and she was invadingmyspace, not the other way around. Still, when Wilma caught some of the conversation, her interest piqued and suddenly I was watching her watching me. So I stood and went into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind me.

"...--my sister thought you might want to join us."

"Join you?" I asked, realizing I'd missed what she said.

"For my niece's Halloween school program? I think she's going to be dressed like a pumpkin and singing some idiotic song. It's going to be horrible, but..."

I smiled, "I'd love to. When?" The pleasure at being invited to a family event was simply delightful, especially considering we'd barely had time to talk to one another lately.

"Friday night. I'll come to the city and pick you up around 4, okay?"

"Sounds great."

I thought she would simply hang up after finalizing our plans, but she surprised me, filling me in on her very busy, very hectic days. She'd been encountering quite a few problems that had been ignored by her predecessor. Finding solutions was turning out to be more of challenge than she'd anticipated. Still, while she sounded tired and frustrated, she seemed to have a grip on the situation already. I knew she would be just fine and didn't hesitate to tell her so. She paused, and I could imagine those perfect lips curving into a smile and those wonderfully golden brown eyes narrowing just a bit at the compliment.

"Still convinced you know me, huh?" She asked, her voice a little huskier.

I laughed, "probably just a lucky guess at the moment, but I'm looking forward to a time when I know you much better."

The words were out before I realized what I was saying. There was silence on the other end and I worried if I'd crossed some invisible line that made her uncomfortable.

It was hard to do, but I waited for her to say something. I think I needed to know if she was as interested as I was in getting to know one another. It felt like I had to wait an hour before she said something, although it was probably only a few seconds.

"Tess..." She hesitated

And I had to admit I didn't like the tone of her voice. Perhaps I had pushed her too far too soon? I was preparing myself for a brush off...

"I just...I mean, we haven't really talked about our pasts..."

I sighed, relieved. I knew that tone and I could totally handle the 'I have a lot of baggage' talk. It was much better than the 'I just want to have a good time' talk.

"I don't care about that...and I'm not seeing anyone," I volunteered. "And I have the results of my latest STD tests."

Another pause and then she chuckled...deep...rich...it sent a shiver right through me.

"Direct, aren't you?" She asked teasingly.

"Uh, my last gave me an STD. Not a permanent one, thank God, but I think it's best to be upfront."

"I agree. I haven't been with anyone in years, so I'll need to get those results for you."

I smiled, "okay. I can wait."

"I work at a hospital, they'll be done in no time."

This time I laughed, "oh, right. That's good then."

From there we talked a little about our previous relationships. She'd been with fewer people than I had, which was kinda sweet, but a little surprising given her looks. And I'd heard Philadelphia was averyfriendly town for Black lesbians, so I wondered why she'd dated only a few people. Not that it was a problem. It was just...surprising.

More than an hour later, with promises to meet at my apartment on Friday around 4, we ended the call. I decided to take a quick shower, probably to cool off a little after chatting with Frankie, before rejoining Wilma in the bedroom.

"So, who was that?" She asked as soon as I plopped down on my bed.

I looked over at her, "none of your business." I reminded her.

She chuckled, "ah, must be the new girlfriend."

"She's just a friend," I corrected, instantly annoyed that I'd responded at all.

Wilma didn't offer a comment, a first for her I think. But I was sure she knew me well enough to know I was interested in the person on the phone, something that didn't seem to sit well with her.

I put on my regular sleepwear, Frankie's tee shirt and a pair of men's boxers, and slipped into bed.

"Since when are you an Eagles' fan?" She asked out of the blue.

I looked down at the shirt, blushing just a bit. "Uh...it's a friend's."

"Same friend? You're sleeping in her shirt? Didn't you sleep in it last night too?"

"Goodnight Wilma."

She didn't say another word, but I could feel the pulse of something emanating off her. I wasn't sure if it was frustration or annoyance, but I got the feeling this conversation was not over.

***

I was running late on Friday. A parent had decided to drop in for a surprise visit, which the school encouraged, but I was totally annoyed that it had to be today. I texted Frankie to let her know I was running late. I had no choice but to stay after and discuss the child's progress. Not one of my best students, he was also not at the bottom of the class, which was great news. So I offered a number of options for pulling up his grades, including encouraging him to participate in class more often and use the informal peer tutoring services I'd set up during lunch.

The parent-teacher meeting had gone well, but I was a little frantic as I drove my Toyota out of the teacher's parking lot. It was already 3:45 and I still had to shower and change. By the time I made my way through the Friday late afternoon traffic, it was after 4pm. I found a parking spot and rushed to the entrance of my building, glancing at my watch over and over again.

"Tess?"

I turned, surprised to see Frankie getting out of her Corvette, her long legs covered in familiar form fitting black denim and a white tee that highlighted her beautiful ebony skin and the muscles in her arms. She wasn't smiling, which concerned me. I changed directions, meeting her halfway.

"Hi. What are you doing out here? I told you where I left the spare key, right? It wasn't there?"

She glanced up toward the fourth floor of the building, an odd expression on her face, before meeting my gaze, her golden eyes darker than usual.

"Uh...I'm actually going to just head out."

Stunned, I pressed my lips together. I didn't want to beg her to wait for me. She didn't seem comfortable, so I wasn't going to ask her about it, but I knewwhothe problem was most likely. I was just waiting to get upstairs and confront her.