Part II - seven

Rebecca Raine

broke my heart again,

            this time right in two.

             Rebecca Raine

come back again.

I’ll give the pieces to you.

 - James Hollowbrook –

 Ginny, reading the couplets and their byline aloud couldn’t help but smile. Not at the poignant and all too true, she knew, sentiment, but rather the clear and simple wordplay. She offered Rebecca the thick saddle stitched publication, apparently James Hollowbrook’s contributor copy. “My piece is on page 58,” she said. She had received her own copy the day before. “It’s not about you, ‘Becca doll, I’m glad to say,” she glanced at the title, The Broken Heart Review, black and white and red across the top of the cover. “I didn’t know you at the time. In fact, I think the notebook where I first wrote it is older than you!”

Rebecca, taking the magazine from Ginny’s outstretched hand, smiled – the clear, golden smile which had been the first of her many charms to waylay Ginny’s heart. “Oh come on, Gin, you’re only six years older than me!” Opening the magazine and flipping to page 58, she said, “And who could have broken your heart, I wonder?”

Rebecca’s brown eyes found Ginny’s name on the page first, at the bottom just above the page number. At the top of the page, the title of Ginny’s poem caused Rebecca to laugh.  “O Chocolate! My Chocolate!” she spoke it aloud, evoking the chuckling ghost of Whitman, and then proceeded to read the rest:

When I was young

you were the only one

to kiss my lips

and tickle my tongue.

 Now I’m older,

my body has changed,

and things can never

be the same.

 I used to love

your bars and chips

but you broke my heart

and went straight to my hips.

– Virginia Jason –

Rebecca laughed again. “That’s hilarious, Ginny!” Now she curled her brow. “But you eat whatever you want and you’re gorgeous!”

“Or at least that’s the impression I give.” Ginny smiled.

“Speaking of which…” Rebecca placed The Broken Heart Review on the table and rose from her chair. “Don’t we have some of that Rocky Road ice cream left?”

“And an episode of Nightbook on the player,” Ginny observed.

“Ghosts and postres,” Rebecca smiled. “You are my kinda’ girl, Virginia Jason.”

Ginny laughed and then stopped, recalling suddenly a similar statement that Gordon had made early in their relationship: “Videos and cookies! You’re my kinda’ girl, Ginny.”

Well it made sense that people she was attracted to would share her likes; sweets and b movies, for example. Of course she was well beyond “attracted to” Rebecca. But hadn’t she once thought the same of Gordon? Looking up at Rebecca’s beaming face, she felt all doubt wither and fade. There was room for nothing but love in her life now. She had certainly never felt that way about Gordon. “I hope I’m your only girl, Becca.”

Rebecca, returning from the ‘fridge now with the frosted barrel of ice cream and a spoon, said, “You’re my only person, Ginny.”

Ginny grinned in her seat. “You are so beautiful with that ice cream in your hands. I could just eat you up.”

Rebecca offered her the spoon.