Page 20 of Love Is…?

Tessa grinned. “Yes, she will.”

“Then part four will be about their wedding, obviously.”

“No wonder it takes three months to write. Absolutely immersive journalism.” She leaned her shoulder into the back of the deep sofa, unintentionally bringing her body a tiny bit closer to Jayde’s. Then, because she didn’t want to offend Jayde by suddenly backing away or simply because she didn’t want to move, she stayed where she was.

Jayde clearly noticed because she mimicked Tessa’s position, then briefly touched her tongue to her bottom lip without breaking eye contact.

Tessa hunted about for a brain cell that was still functioning and not blushing or generally behaving like a thirty-year-old easily flustered lesbian.

“You gave your definition of love last week. It was beautiful, by the way.” Tessa pointed. “I said I wasn’t going to ask about why you have an aversion to romantic love. Perhaps the mechanics of love don’t do it for you.”

“The mechanics of love?”

“Yes. The hand holding, the touching, the soft smiles for no reason, the little notes or gifts or simple things, the ICUs.”

“Intensive care units?” Jayde’s expression was quizzical.

Tessa laughed. “The ‘I See You’.” She pointed at her chest, pointed to her eyes, and pointed at Jayde. “Seeing someone when you’re in love. I reckon you have a lot of love to give.”

“Sure. For things like Melbourne, my dad, my friends.” Then Jayde paused, patted her bent knee as if in contemplation, then lifted her head, studied Tessa, looked away, then looked back. “I like you, Tessa. You’re safe, and kind.”

Tessa’s gaze never left Jayde’s face. “Thank you. That’s…I like you, too,” she answered, her voice quiet. Jayde thought Tessa was safe? People had always said she was safe. Kids knew it. They had pretty good radars for ‘green flag yes’ people or ‘red flag nope’ people. Tessa knew she waved a green flag, but it was really nice to hear Jayde say so.

They sat in silence for a moment or two, and Tessa watched Jayde’s gaze bounce from object to object in the room.

“You okay?” Tessa whispered. Jayde’s sudden vulnerability worried her, and it took every molecule in her body not to crawl over the middle cushion and hold Jayde to her chest, which would seem like she was accosting a crush. Not at all the actions of a ‘green flag yes’ person. So she remained where she was, being quietly concerned.

Jayde met her eyes, holding them, and Tessa absorbed the brown, the nearly black, the specks of gold, and the intensity of Jayde’s eyes. She swallowed.

“I think so,” Jayde replied, then she smiled slightly. “I’d like to share something.”

Tessa’s eyes rounded, and Jayde’s lips quirked. “We don’t know each other well enough yet for sharing what you might be imagining.”

“I wasn’t imagining anything.” Tessa frowned, but couldn’t hold back her smile. Then she inched a little closer, ending up in the middle of the centre cushion. Sharing things that could be imagined in other ways sounded like they needed to be shared in closer proximity. At least that was the reasoning Tessa gave herself.

Jayde looked down, took in Tessa’s new location, then lifted her head, and nodded.

“So, here goes.” She exhaled slowly, and again, then cleared her throat. “My mum left my dad when I was nineteen.”

That sentence needed a hand hold at least, but again Tessa reined in her empathetic molecular structure.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Jayde nodded again. “Apparently, she couldn’t deal with my dad’s injuries from the car accident he had three years earlier.”

Tessa tossed away the reins. She reached for Jayde’s hand and squeezed gently, then followed her hand so she sat on thejoin between the two seat cushions. There was so much missing from Jayde’s story but it didn’t matter. Jayde looked both vacant and disappointed all at once. The two states played across her face and through her eyes.

Tessa’s hand was squeezed in response, and distantly, Tessa acknowledged that her not-awful journalist bet-dare-challenge friend had a lovely hand to hold.

Jayde hummed briefly as if fortifying herself for the rest of her story.

“So, Dad has Acquired Brain Injury,” she said. “His comprehension and general understanding of the world is slower, smaller, and he’s got some physical injuries.” She squeezed Tessa’s hand again. “Mum decided that he was too hard to deal with, so she left. It was like his injuries were an exit ticket. My Dad tried all sorts of romantic gestures to win her back.” She glanced at Tessa. “The mechanics of love, like you mentioned. But she went and my dad’s heart has had a candle in its window ever since. He hopes she’ll return, but she won’t. Not now. It’s been eleven years.”

Tessa’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh,” she breathed, and watched as sadness joined disappointment on the canvas on Jayde’s face.

Jayde looked into Tessa’s eyes, and clenched her jaw. “So, romantic love? It’s fairy floss. Not worth the paper it’s written on because there’s always one person in the relationship who loves more and that’s the person who gets hurt the most.”

Tessa let out a soft breath. “Jayde, that’s so sad.” She laced her fingers between Jayde’s. “I’m sorry. That’s a long time to send wishes into a well.”

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