Chapter Text
The tires of a pristine black car scratched against the gravel of the driveway of the Dobie-Wright school for girls, although it wasn’t much of a school anymore, and rolled solemnly down the road. All that was left behind was a cloud of dust and a still farmhouse. The porch was swept, the doors were sensibly shut, and the only noise one would hear within its walls was the occasional sigh or even a sob.
After watching Mrs. Tilford’s driver escort her back to her house of deceit, Karen Wright hovered at the bottom of the stairs, her mind somehow both bouncing with thoughts and mind numbingly empty. As much as Mrs. Tilford’s dreadfully late and self-serving apology ate at her, she also considered what could be done using the reparations that she had promised to them. It went against her morals to take money from Mrs. Tilford but at this point what difference did it make? They would need all the help they could get if they were going to leave everything behind and start over in a new city, a new state. That was Karen’s nature, always looking for the solution amidst a disaster. It made her feel useful and it was better than dwelling on the things she couldn’t change.
Growing up, Karen’s mother was quick to anger as a widow raising three children. Karen didn’t blame her but how nice would it have been to feel wanted. Her older sister was the golden child with her beauty and desire to have a family after she finished school, and her younger brother was the favorite with his mischievous nature that her mother went to the ends of the earth to defend. That left Karen in the middle, to pick up the loose ends and receive none of the affection. She was the one who would sit with her mother and hold her hand when she was upset, but she was also the one that would be blamed for the messes around the house and for the window that her brother broke with his slingshot. She supposed she had always been an easy scapegoat, and as she looked around the empty farmhouse she figured that hadn’t changed.
For years Karen internally chastised herself for her people pleasing nature. She really didn’t mean to do it, but when faced with hardship she couldn’t help but to try to take on the responsibility of picking up the pieces, just as she would do for her mother in hopes of finally being seen by her, of being loved by her.
Karen rubbed her eyes as she felt a headache coming on. Thinking too much about her mother always had this effect. Not wanting to feel sorry for herself anymore, she redirected her thoughts to Martha.
“I have loved you the way they said!”
Poor Martha, she thought to herself. She couldn't imagine how her friend must be feeling considering everything that had happened. It’s one thing for your life to be torn apart by vicious rumors, but for them to be true? That’s a whole other beast.
In terms of the general public's feelings about what Martha had recently realized about herself, Karen couldn’t understand it. She knows Martha better than she knows herself and she’s the furthest thing from a deviant. Karen admitted that she hadn’t thought too much about the subject of homosexuality until this painful ordeal. She had heard of instances of it before but had never thought too deeply about it. It wasn’t something many people in Lancet talked about, but now knowing what Martha felt about her, she had regrets. After all, anything Martha Dobie is must be good, she thought to herself.
Karen knew that they had to get out of Lancet, and get out quickly if they wanted their sanity to be intact. She no longer felt any attachment to the town now that their school was ruined and her relationship with Joe was through. She mentally planned out the logistics of packing, buying train tickets, and choosing a new city to relocate to. She decided right there and then that it was doable and that they would both go away and start anew.
Karen shivered as she stood in the cold foyer. She pulled her cardigan closer to her body and walked up the stairs and to Martha’s bedroom. She needed to talk to her and the way she stormed upstairs after Mrs. Tilford’s apology told her that she needed to check up on her. Reaching the top of the stairs, she quietly walked down the hall and slowly opened the door without knocking. The two of them had been friends so long that they rarely knocked anymore. For a moment she wondered if she should have knocked given everything that had happened but it was already done.
Martha was sitting at the other end of the room, staring out the window with hollow eyes. Her breathing was ragged as if she was constantly at the verge of tears and she didn’t even notice Karen was in the room until she spoke.
“Martha, I’m going away someplace, to begin again. Will you come with me?” Karen asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she saw the visible pain in Martha’s features. She watched her friend closely, taking note of her beautiful misty eyes and the way that she turned to look at her. The pain in her eyes was fierce and was the kind of pain that you only saw in art.
“We can find work now,” Karen added, now that there would be a public apology in the papers. Their names were cleared, that had to count for something right?
Martha listened with her eyes shut softly. They were exonerated, yes, but that didn’t make Martha feel any better. She knew deep down that it wasn’t the complete truth and it never would be. The thoughts she had about Karen were evidence of her guilt, and it sickened her that it would always be looming over her. That her life would always be one accusation away from disaster.
She fidgeted nervously as Karen continued to talk, holding the blanket on her lap in an odd fashion. Karen almost asked her about it before she was interrupted.
“Thank you Karen, let’s talk about it tomorrow. I want to go to sleep…” Martha’s voice was tinged with urgency and she wasn’t satisfied with her response but she looked so exhausted that Karen decided she could wait. It would give her more time to plan their journey anyway.
“Goodnight Martha,” she whispered before closing the door behind her.
…
Martha let out a sigh as Karen closed the door behind her. Hearing Karen ask her to go away with her was both the best and worst thing she had ever heard. It made her heart swell at the idea of boarding a train with the brunette and starting again somewhere else. But once reality set in, her heart ached because she knew she shouldn’t feel that way for her friend who would never feel the same way for her. It almost pained Martha to hear the hopefulness in Karen’s voice. It made it all the more harder to go through with her plan.
Glancing down at her lap, Martha moved her arm and shifted her blanket, uncovering a rope that she had concealed under her arm when Karen entered the room. It was a scrap of old rope with frayed ends and rough fibers that she had pushed to the back of her closet after the parents brunch. She thought back to how happy she was hanging the welcome sign up and seeing how much they had accomplished. It was such a happy day that even her aunt’s incessant commentary didn’t ruin her mood. Their hard work had paid off and there was so much promise and excitement in the air. Now, she looked down at the same rope that the welcome sign once hung from, and almost laughed at the irony of it all.
She didn’t really want to die, but her shame told her it was for the best. Afterall, how could she go on knowing what a mess she had made of Karen’s life. She had ruined her reputation, career, and now her relationship with Joe. She couldn’t bear it and naively thought that if she simply wasn’t around anymore, Karen could be happy with Joe again. It had never occurred to her that there might be other factors that contributed to Karen not wanting to marry Joe anymore.
As her mind filled up with all the gut-wrenching thoughts of the last week, her vision blurred with tears. She really cared for Karen more than anything and wanted her to be happy. The way she saw it, she had no other choice in that moment and sometimes that’s all it takes to make a bad decision, a decision that would alter more than one life.
Through choked sobs Martha picked up the chair next to her desk and placed it in the middle of the room.
…
Karen slowly descended the stairs, considering the events of the afternoon and the words of her friend. Mrs. Tilfords’ visit left a sour taste in her mouth, but also left a seed of hope behind. With their names cleared and some money in their pockets, maybe they really could start over, in a city of strangers who hadn’t been touched by Mary’s lies.
She was determined to convince Martha to go away with her. She couldn’t imagine moving on without her, let alone leaving her behind in this town with the never ending judgment and prying stares everywhere they’d go. Also, they had been best friends for so long it was hard to imagine not seeing her every day, and her confession didn’t change that a bit. An intense and peculiar pang struck her heart when she considered Martha staying behind.
She hoped that in the morning Martha would come around and help her plan their trip. She wanted to leave as soon as possible, and before Joe could try to convince her otherwise.
Despite Karen’s sudden motivation to plan their escape, Martha’s demeanor ate at the recesses of her mind and she couldn’t get to the bottom of it. The two of them had always been interconnected in a way that went beyond typical friendship. Martha was a frequent worrier and Karen could always tell when something was eating at her. Something about Martha’s behavior earlier seemed off but considering everything that had happened earlier, Karen decided that that was to be expected.
With her newfound sense of freedom, realizing they could take the train anywhere and they were no longer tied down by the school, Karen mustered up the courage to take a walk.
Opening the front door slowly, Karen peered out towards the road that ran in front of the house. There were no cars passing, and no leering men in sight this time. She sighed in relief and turned to get her coat. She thought that taking a walk would help her clear her mind. As she reached for her coat, her eyes landed on Martha’s black wool coat. She smiled to herself as she remembered the year she had gifted it to her for christmas.
It was their senior year of college and money was tight. They lived in a small apartment near campus that was essentially a closet but it was the best time of their lives. Martha was always so hardworking and put all the money she made from her job in the library to their shared rent and their meals. However, she would allow an occasional expense to surprise Karen with a box of pastries. It always made Karen so happy and Martha would do anything to see Karen’s smile.
That Christmas Karen decided she needed to get something nice for Martha, something that would last longer than some croissants and fruit tarts.
Karen and Martha sat on the floor of their apartment the night before they were set to go home for break. They huddled next to the radiator as they watched the snow outside. With their shoulders pressed together Martha’s heart pounded in her chest.
Suddenly Karen reached behind her and brought out a box wrapped in brown paper and dark red ribbon. There were small flowers drawn on the paper and Martha’s name was written in cursive on the side. It was Karen’s lettering; Martha could recognize that handwriting anywhere.
They had previously agreed that they wouldn’t buy any presents since all budget was tight, so Martha was especially surprised.
“Karen, we said we wouldn’t buy gifts! I didn’t get you anything…” Martha said worriedly, suddenly feeling horrible for not getting something for her friend.
Karen shushed her softly, “It’s okay Martha, you always splurge on me so I thought I’d return the favor. Come on, open it!”
Martha looked down at the gift hesitantly but was won over by the excitement exuding from Karen. Her worried expression smoothed into a smile as she glanced at her friend who was watching her with adoration.
She gently untied the ribbon and was careful not to rip the paper too much. Karen’s little drawings were beautiful and she didn’t want to damage anything that had been made by her delicate hands.
After uncovering a small box she pulled out a thick wool overcoat. It was black and had a tag on it from the clothing shop that Karen always shopped at when she had enough money to spare. It was the kind of stylish, Rue de la Paix boutique that had Karen’s name written all over it.
“Oh Karen! This is too much, it must have cost you a fortune!” Martha exclaimed as she unwrapped the coat. She examined the perfect stitching and softness of the material. It was the nicest gift she had ever received and she wasn’t so sure that she deserved it.
“It’s the least I could do, you’ve done so much for me and you never treat yourself” Karen explained gently as she squeezed Martha’s shoulder affectionately.
A silent moment passed between them and Martha’s gaze conveyed to the brunette how much this meant to her. The most she had ever gotten for Christmas was a rumpled playbill from her Aunt Lily, who went to great lengths to convey how priceless it was.
“Let me help you put it on, I want to make sure I got the right size” Karen said as she stood behind Martha and helped her feed her arms through the sleeves.
Karen circled around Martha, eyeing her up and down to examine the fit of the coat. She traced Martha’s waist with her finger and adjusted the lapels carefully. Martha’s face felt unusually warm as her friend touched her so softly. She knew that she was examining the coat but something about her touch always moved her in ways she couldn’t comprehend.
With a smile of approval Karen stepped back, “It’s perfect, you look beautiful.”
Martha blushed sheepishly as her heart swam in the compliment.
“Thank you Karen, truly.”
With a small step forward Karen enveloped Martha in a hug. Martha closed her eyes as she felt her heart pounding against Karen.
Martha wore that coat nearly everyday for the years to come, because it always felt like a hug from Karen.
Karen hugged the coat tightly as the memory faded. It smelled like Martha, with notes of her vanilla and amber perfume. A few tears escaped her eyes as she remembered how happy they were. How great things were before Mary had destroyed their lives, and shamed Martha into thinking she was a deviant.
She also considered what Martha’s confession meant in terms of their friendship. It wasn’t a question of whether or not Martha’s love for her was wrong, but what did that love mean . What had made Martha realize she loved her? Did she wish to kiss her late at night in the car as Joe did? Karen’s face flushed slightly at the thought, which just confused her even more. Karen rubbed her eyes again as she felt her mind spiraling into a rabbit hole of thoughts. The bottom line was that she loved her friend and nothing would change that.
Deciding she better take her walk before it got dark, Karen pulled Martha’s coat onto her body. It was warm and felt like a hug from Martha, something she didn’t know if she’d ever experience again.
“Don’t you see? I can’t stand to have you touch me!”
As Martha’s words echoed in Karen’s mind and made her heart ache, she buttoned up the coat and walked towards the door. As she put her hand in one of the pockets, she felt her finger poke through an opening at the bottom. She chuckled to herself as she took a closer look at the hole. Martha loved her gift so much that she wore a hole into it.
After assessing the damage, Karen began to ascend the stairs to retrieve her sewing kit. This was something to keep her mind off of everything, and more importantly, something to cheer Martha up, even if it was a small gesture. As of late, she didn’t have anything to occupy her time. And while that sounds like a good problem to have, it was utterly miserable. No girls to teach French to, no dishes to wash, no beds to make, no purpose other than remembering to breathe and eat and sleep. This is it, she thought, this will be my purpose for today. I will find a new purpose tomorrow and the day after that, until things go back to normal.
Reaching her bedroom, she searched for her sewing kit in her bedside drawer where she usually kept it. Her brow furrowed as she searched to no avail. She quickly remembered that she had let Martha borrow it to mend one of the girls' dresses. Usually she was the designated mender but she had been busy with preparing for the parent brunch so Martha had offered to do it for her. They had a perfect balance in the way they ran their school. Karen was always the more social one of the pair so she navigated conversations with parents with ease, while Martha liked to work more behind the scenes. Karen chuckled to herself as she remembered the day of the parents brunch. Martha had been working on tying a welcome sign to the front porch while good old Lily Mortar sat on the veranda eating a cookie and instructing Martha on how to tie the knots. Martha turned to give playfully annoyed glances to Karen from across the yard.
Karen stepped out of her room and quietly walked up to Martha’s door. She almost knocked but remembered that Martha wanted to sleep and she didn’t want to disturb her. I’ll just slip in and out, I’m sure the sewing kit is on top of her dresser, Karen said to herself.
With gentle steps and a quick, yet quiet, turn of the doorknob, Karen tiptoed into Martha’s room. She didn’t get far into the room before she stopped in her tracks and slowly raised her head. Her eyes met Martha’s and it felt as if the world had stopped. Tears were streaming down Martha’s cheeks and her eyes were wide like a deer in the headlights.
Karen’s vision blurred and darkened as she acted quickly to get her friend down from the wooden chair she was standing on. With panicked movements she removed the rope from Martha’s neck and pulled her down to the floor with her.
Martha collapsed all at once into a pool of tears in Karen’s arms. Her body shook as she let out every pent up emotion from the last few weeks. Karen held Martha tightly, trying her best to comfort her friend while simultaneously trying not to burst into tears herself. It wasn’t long before Martha’s body became still from exhaustion.
“I’m sorry Karen…” she whispered repeatedly, her voice muddled with such despair that Karen thought her heart was going to crack into a million pieces.