The Strawberry Heart Read online

  “No,” Niav replied, “just nervous and inexperienced and a thief apparently.”

  Anselle laughed. It sounded so good to hear Niav's sense of humor even if it was from behind a closed door, “Hey now, you’ll never get a conviction. I’ll deny I confessed anything and it will be my word against yours. Although, I still have the camera so I guess I could get time for possession of a stolen item. I hope you don’t mind having a neighbor with a potential criminal record.” She listened to more of Niav’s sweet laughter quietly coming from the other side of the door. “Anyway, up until that point I didn’t think about the actual flights. There had been little to no turbulence on the two previous flights but not long after we left Hong Kong the plane dipped like it was going to fall out of the sky. The girl behind me started crying and somebody else started screaming that we were all going to die. Let me tell you, I thought that person was right. The stewardesses were trying to keep everyone calm and the plane dipped a little bit more and there was more screaming. The girl’s mother was shouting at her to stop crying. I wanted to tell the mother that there was plenty of reason to cry and she should just shut-up and comfort her daughter. I thought that I was going to die and I would never see my parents again and that this was God punishing me because I was selfish for wanting to go to university in England. At one particularly bad point those oxygen masks dropped from the overhead bins and I freaked because I hadn’t really watched the pre-flight instructions like you’re supposed too and I didn’t know what to do. The girl next to me helped me put mine on. She put her arm around me and kept saying that everything was going to be alright, you know, I never even got her name or thanked her for helping me. I regret that to this day. The pilot came on the intercom and told everyone that there was really no reason to panic and that we’d be out of the turbulence soon. It must’ve been another half hour or so before she came back on and said that we were out of the storm. Some people didn’t take their oxygen masks off, I was one of them. When the plane landed in London I saw some people actually kiss the ground, they were so thankful to be safe.”

  Niav listened to Anselle talk about her experiences and pictured the scared boy, alone and so far from home on this grand adventure that was going so horribly and her heart went out to her. But the thoughts that kept running through her mind about Anselle having a ‘normal’ friend or partner or whatever it was they were going to be wouldn’t leave her alone. Anselle would want to travel and there was no way she could go with her. Niav broke down and cried.

  “Niav, please, will you open the door to me?” Anselle pleaded when she heard the brunette sobbing.

  “I’m sorry. It’s for the best. You’ll realize that soon and you’ll be happy you didn’t get involved with me.” She rose up from the floor and took a few steps away.

  “I’m not going to give up, Niav. I wasn’t going to tell you because I don’t want you to think I’m just saying this to get to you but,” Anselle swallowed hard, “When I got your text on Sunday it felt like my heart was breaking. I know we’ve only known each other for a few days but I told you yesterday how I felt this connection to you and it’s true. I think I’ve fallen for you. Niav, please say something.” She could hear the younger girl behind the door sobbing softly.

  “It’s not love you feel, it’s pity and I don’t need that. You don’t know me. Trust me, you’re better off without me.”

  “It’s not pity, Niav. I had the feelings before I saw your attack. I was instantly attracted to you when you surprised me outside your door last week; your beautiful smile, your golden eyes, your curly hair. Then I got to know you a little and was attracted to your sense of humor and your artistic talent and you know how I feel about your cooking. Trust me, you’re not only your condition, Niav, you’re much more than that. I wish you could see what I see. I think you’re lovely.”

  Niav was full on crying, “Don’t say that. You don’t know.”

  “Then tell me. Let me in.” Anselle begged, “Please.”

  “I can’t.” Niav ran into her bedroom and slammed the door.

  ***

  The next morning Anselle woke up achy with a stuffy nose and a slight fever. She still stopped by Niav’s door, said “good morning. I hope you have a good day. I should be home at the usual time. I’ll talk to you later.” But it sounded more like, “guhd mornick. I hobe you hab a guhd day. I shug be hum at duh usal dime. I’ll dalk do yuh lader. ”

  Work was hell as her fever climbed and the Stock Market fell making some of her clients go to pieces. She spent the morning reassuring them that everything would bounce back in a day or two and to just hold on until things turned back around. Most clients took her advice, some didn’t and demanded their money be put into more secure investments. Sometimes she really hated her clients. But at least her mind was off Niav for a while.

  That night when Anselle arrived at Niav’s door there was a glass container filled with hot, home-made, chicken noodle soup sitting on the floor with a hand-written note that read; ‘I hope you feel better soon. Niav.’ Anselle picked up the container and went into her flat. She put down the soup and her briefcase, took off her suit jacket, pocketed her keys, grabbed a spoon and a blanket and went back out to sit in front of Niav’s. She was even more optimistic despite Niav’s words the night before and she thought that what she’s saying is getting through to the woman.

  Anselle placed the soup container down on the floor with the spoon, wrapped herself in the blanket and dropped down to sit on the floor, “Thank you for the soup. I’m really….” Anselle thought, ‘what am I, hungry, happy, grateful, appreciative, sick as a dog?’ She was all of those things but none of them said how the soup was making her feel. She spooned up some of the broth and slurped it loudly, “mmm, this is so good! Thank you, Niav.” Even though she was congested she hoped that said everything she wanted to say and that Niav understood it. “I hope you can make out what I’m saying tonight. I think I may have the flu so it’s probably a good thing this door is between us though I’d give anything for it not to be. I’d hate myself if I made you sick too.” Anselle wanted nothing more than to be in Niav’s arms cuddled up on the brunette’s comfy sofa while eating soup and watching TV.

  Around bites of soup and with her nasal voice Anselle picked up her story, “yesterday I left off with arriving in London if I’m not mistaken. I collected my suitcase, I had a trunk that was shipped earlier, actually it was more like a cardboard box, and I was supposed to meet a representative from the student house I was staying at but somehow we missed each other or so she said. I think she just didn’t show up. Anyway, I waited at the airport for about an hour before I finally asked an airport guide how to get a bus to where I had to go. I had exchanged some money before leaving home so I was covered that way but I had no idea how to get around London. I had research bus and tube routes before leaving home but when I got here I was completely overwhelmed. Everyone was moving so quickly and everything looked so big. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do.” Niav was sitting in her place on the other side of the door; she sounded small and sad.

  Anselle wanted to say that she was sorry Niav felt that way but she didn’t want the woman to think it was pity, like yesterday so she kept silent. “It took a while but I finally got to the student house and they let me into my room. My box had already arrived and was there which I was very thankful for. I put my suitcase down and flopped onto the bed. I think I slept for a whole day. I sure felt like that was what I needed. The next day my roommate showed up. She was from Scotland and I swear I didn’t understand a word the girl said. For two months when she talked to me I think I only ever smiled and nodded. I’m pretty sure she thought I was the dumbest person she’d ever met. I tried to spend most of my free time in the library just so I wouldn’t have to talk to her.” Anselle tried to imitate a Scottish accent and failed miserably but she had to smile when she heard Niav laughing. “I only had to avoid her for two months because after that she left. I’m really not sure
if she went back home or if she moved to another room that’s how badly I couldn’t understand her. We didn’t have any classes together either so I didn’t see her again. I was happy to have the room all to myself because around then I started to miss my family and, don’t tell this to anybody else, but I cried a lot. It was so hard being half a world away and I couldn’t call whenever I wanted too because of the time difference. I wrote my mom an email almost every day telling her how much I missed her and my dad and home. I told her about my classes and what I got to do around London.” Anselle abruptly sneezed and let out a low moan as her muscles ached and her head pounded. “Oops, I spilled some soup.” She heard Niav get up and a few seconds later a couple of napkins and some tissues were slipped under the door. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Anselle blew her nose in a tissue and dabbed at the spill on her blanket with the napkins, “I was sure I wasn’t going to do another term. I thought I was going to flunk out and my professors hated me. I realized that I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was. University was a lot harder than school back in New Zealand. And then I met Lisa. We had the same classes but I hadn’t spoken to her until one day she came up to me in the library and asked me if I could help her with some homework. I think I told you that she was from Wales.”

  “Yes.”

  Every time Niav spoke Anselle felt more and more optimistic, “I didn’t think her accent was as difficult to understand. We started hanging out more and more and even though it was against the rules she moved her stuff into my room. I think they let us get away with it because I was so far from home and they knew I was lonely. I don’t know if that’s true or not but I like to think it is. It felt so good to have a friend who was going through what I was going through. Even though her family was a train ride away she missed them as much as I missed mine. We helped each other with homework and reports. Don’t tell her because I’d never hear the end of it but I don’t think I would’ve stayed if it weren’t for her.” Anselle fell quiet as she thought about those days with Lisa.

  “Anselle?” Niav asked faintly.

  “I’m still here.”

  “Why?”

  Anselle could hear the emotion in Niav’s voice, “why what?”

  “Why are you still there?” Niav sniffled.

  “I told you. I’m not willing to give up on you. I will sit here every evening and talk until you realize that. I don’t care if it takes a week or a month or a year. I’m not going anywhere.” Anselle paused for Niav to argue with her but she was surprised by Niav’s silence and she resumed her story, “Gina is a few years older than us and we didn’t have any classes together. We bumped into her, literally, in a hallway one day. Lisa and I were going over a handout from a professor, not paying attention at all and bam!” She set the soup bowl down and smacked her hands together, “she went flying; Lisa and I fell on top of each other; the handout was ripped in half; all our books wound up scattered over the floor. I thought she was going to flip on us, she can be very intimidating, but you know what she did?”

  “What?” The woman’s voice was calm but curious.

  “She laughed. She took one look at us trying to get off each other and apologize at the same time and burst out laughing. She has this wonderful baritone voice and she was laughing like a wild girl. Everyone was looking at us. Lisa’s face was bright red, I’m sure mine was too. I took one look at Lisa and she looked at me and we both looked at Gina and then we were laughing too. We’ve been friends ever since.”

  “Tell me more about her.”

  “She’s a nice looking girl, six foot tall, dark hair and blue eyes. When she’s angry you want to stay out of her way. She’s also one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. She didn’t live in the student housing; her parents have a house in London and after we met we were either at the library or at Gina’ house. Since she was ahead of us she could answer questions we had and were afraid to ask the professors because we didn’t want to look stupid. It’s so amazing to look back on those early days. We weren’t little kids but we felt like we were. Gina sort of took us under her wing and gave us a lot of insights into how to get on better with certain professors, what they expected and what they were looking for. But after she took that cooking class that summer she didn’t want to be in accounting anymore. I know you’re making that face again.” The blonde was relieved to hear more giggling, “She applied to Le Cordon Blue and she was accepted. I think I told you a little about her before.”

  “Yes. She’s living her dream.” Niav considered everything Anselle had told her about Gina, “You should be with her. She sounds really stable. Someone like that would be better for you than me.”

  “Niav,” Anselle sighed, “Gina is just a friend. Besides, she’s not into women. She was even married for a short time. Her marriage failed because the wife ran off with the partner she had in her first restaurant venture. She received the divorce papers the same day she got the papers dissolving the partnership. Both happenings broke Gina’ heart. She’s dated some since but it’s hard for her since she’s at the restaurant almost 24-7-365. I think you’d like my friends we have a lot of really embarrassing stories about each other especially about Lisa. If you’re nice I’ll tell you the donkey story but don’t tell her I told you.”

  “I’m nice.”

  “You’re wonderful, Niav but the donkey story will have to wait. It’s a visual story and you wouldn’t get the full effect without seeing it.” The two women were silent for several minutes before Anselle remembered, “Oh, I emailed my mom last night about the photos. Remember?”

  “In the box under the bed.”

  “Yes. She found them and she’s expressing them to me. Do you think you could sign for them if they come when I’m not here? You don’t have too if you don’t want too. I can always arrange to pick them up.” Anselle crossed her fingers and closed her eyes.

  Niav thought for a minute before she replied, “Okay.”

  Anselle was outwardly calm as she replied, “thank you. You can just leave them outside my door.” but inside she was shouting ‘Yes!’ She pictured herself with the open box in her lap looking at photos, explaining what they were and then sliding them under Niav’s door so she could see them too. That wasn’t the way she wanted to show the photos to Niav but she’d do it if it would bring the woman back to her.

  “I think that’s all for tonight. I’m going to take something and go to bed. Thank you so much for the soup. I’ll wash out the container and leave it at your door in the morning. Good night Niav.”

  “Good night, Anselle. I hope you feel better in the morning.”

  ***

  Anselle woke with the alarm clock but she was sure she was dying. Her head was pounding, her throat was tight, she couldn’t breathe and every muscle in her body ached. She called in sick to work, left another voice mail for Niav and crawled back under the covers.

  From the warm, comfort of her bed Niav heard her neighbor’s alarm go off and then some mumbled talking and then silence. No shower running to chase away sleep, no closet door shutting after the day’s suit was taken out, no floor creaking as the other girl moved around the flat, nothing. She figured that the flu had gotten worse through the night and Anselle was going to take a sick day. The urge to bring the sick girl more soup and to take care of her was overpowering. But the woman was so uncertain; torn between wanting Anselle in her life and trying to protect the other girl from the mess her life was. All of her friends had turned away from her when she couldn’t just ‘get over it’ or ‘stop being so dramatic’ or ‘suck it up and be a girl’ and she couldn’t, she wouldn’t go through that again. The feeling of not being understood or accepted was horrible. No matter how much she told herself that her fears were irrational or ridiculous it never helped. It only made her feel worse because she couldn’t just ‘get over it’. Anselle said she wasn’t like her past friends but the blonde didn’t know, she may have suspected but she didn’t know what it was like. No amoun
t of research on the internet compared to living with the problem every day, day after day after day after day for years. There were limits to how much people would put up with before they got fed up and left. But yet……Anselle was so nice, sounded so sincere and Niav thought for sure that the two could’ve been a lot more than friends. The fact that the blonde had done any research at all was amazing. Niav couldn’t remember any of her mates having done that. Anselle could’ve just bolted and left her lying on the floor after the attack she witnessed but she had stayed, held her, wiped her face with a towel and then helped her to bed. Even though Niav had texted her and told her to go away for her own good, she stayed. Could it be worth taking a chance on the handsome, intelligent, charming, funny blonde? Her heart said ‘yes’ but her head said ‘no’.