I can’t lead, Sally thought, weakly. Nobody will follow me.

She thought of hapless Malcolm Donald, almost killing a plaza full of people with his incomplete vision. I don’t want to get people killed. Anyway, I’m not charismatic like that.

But I could be.

She was green as grass at leading people but she could do it. She would make a lot of mistakes but she could do it. Lavinia watched her realize it.

Her eyes were loving but cautious and Sally realized Lavinia still only provisionally accepted her promise to stay. Letting go of everything else, she put her hand under Lavinia’s raven hair and breathed into her mouth like she’d done in the night. Lavinia’s dear face smoothed as they shared breath after breath.

Callista’s cat Cinnamon, purring on her chest, had brought her this kind of peace. She missed that cat more than she ever missed her only other long-term relationship! She’d lost so many people who promised Forever; she got why Lavinia stayed cautious.

She would make Lavinia sure in the end by being in love day after day, not by any words.

When her left arm started to ache, she rolled onto her side, bringing Lavinia with her. Lavinia gasped twice in helpless panic, then settled onto Sally’s confident arm.

“See how I know you can lead? But warn me next time you’re gonna move me around. I’m not used to being so helpless; I don’t like it.”

Sally saw in this small interaction what a leader faced every moment: she’d do what she thought was right and find she’d hurt someone. The muscles around her eyes tightened and she pressed her lips together.

“I’d like to get you into sunlight, baby,” she said tentatively. “Is that okay?”

Exasperation seemed to be good medicine for Lavinia. “I ain’t made of fucking glass. Just, I always been a bit claustrophobic.” Clouds of panic chased across her features.

“You remember I mentioned Ryan, my cousin who died of ALS?”

This time Sally made herself ask, “What is ALS, love?”

She winced when Lavinia’s nose wrinkled like she smelled an outhouse. But Lavinia wasn’t angry at her. “Butt fucker of a disease, robs you blind till you can’t move, can’t hardly breathe, can’t talk except you can move your eyes and Ryan got set up with some computer thing could translate that to talking.

“What a sweet guy he was. And funny? He used to could fart on cue and play piano like Duke Ellington while telling jokes like Victor Borge.

“And he was claustrophobic, like me. Last time I visited him, he seemed like he’d made peace but my God! What he must have gone through to get there! Knowing you’ll never move again; something could be right behind you and you can’t turn to see it. You know it’s no good to try but then you’re trying again.” Lavinia breathed two ragged gasps. “At least I know it’ll end soon’s the sun goes down.”

Then she gave a gallows grin. “Thank God I don’t have to spend the day in a coffin. That’d be worse.”

“Come on, honey,” Sally said more confidently. “Let’s get some sunlight onto you. I’m sure it’ll make the time go quicker.”

She moved to open the curtains but turned back at a gesture she was coming to recognize: Lavinia starting to ask for something and stopping herself. She put her face up close to Lavinia’s, fist under her own chin and eyebrows high.

Lavinia laughed. “Okay, okay, I was just gonna get all gooey and little-girly and say something like, ‘you’ll stay by my side, won’t you?’”

Sally kissed her softly. “I will stay by your side. I will not leave you,” she said. “You can be helpless with me.”

She pulled the curtains so a square of sunlight fell on Lavinia’s feet.

Nothing happened.

Both of their faces fell comically. Lavinia said, “Maybe it’s gotta touch skin?”

She pulled Lavinia so her face was in the light and that did it. Lavinia gratefully gave herself to pleasure and Sally held her hand, careful not to meet her eyes and get pulled into hours of exhausting ecstasy again.

She watched a red car, one of the new Volkswagen Beetles, pull into the lot and a young couple with a little girl get out. The mother said, “Here, honey, let me put sunblock on you.” The child tilted her face up and squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth in a pudgy sunshine grin as the mother smeared on cream.

The father cast a dirty look in the direction of the camper. Sally blushed: Lavinia’s ecstasy was loud.

But the little girl, face white as a vampire, just pointed, said happily, “Dat Mommy Daddy noise!” and ran toward the beach.

Sally could have picked that child up and swung her in a joyous circle. The mother turned a charming rose red. “Well, there’s a great big beautiful beach to explore!” the father announced brightly. They followed their child.

Sally tensed, waiting for a scream. But she must have hidden the body well.

She stroked the hand she held. “Lavinia. My Lavinia. My wife.” She smiled like a mother who holds her newborn after long, intense labor.