Lorena’s shoulders became rigid. She stared at Carol’s face; a woman she barely knew. A woman who thought she was competent and helpful and good, a woman who might not believe in anything beyond her own senses. How could she tell her deepest secrets to a woman like this without leaving the impression she was unstable?
She could either open up to that face or return to her apartment alone, as she had in the many months before Zep hurt his head. Just walk away and give up painting on Wednesdays between twelve and four inside this warm gray house. Or, she could just spill it out right here on the lawn in front of the lilacs, hoping their wonderful smell would infuse her story with some earthly reality. It was undeniable that she could never work at Sanford’s again nor face any of them, if Carol walked away from her now thinking she was crazy. But if she didn’t finally lay her secret open to someone besides her flaky mother, her dreams would eventually become the only thing left in her lonely life.
Lorena reached for Carol’s hand and pulled it into her lap. She looked at Carol. “I recognized Elizabeth as one of the angels I see in my dreams.” She waited for Carol to pull away and laugh. Instead, Carol’s eyes focused intently upon her own as she sat back onto her heels in a more relaxed position.
“Is she a famous angel or something. Like from the bible?”
Lorena’s mind went blank for a moment. “I never thought of that,” she said.