Eclipse

”Pregnant, huh?” Abby couldn’t think of anything else to say. Carol kept stirring her latte, the leafy pattern on the foam soon dissolving into the steamy liquid. She regretted choosing this particular coffee shop for their meeting, people flocking everywhere and bumping into their table with their trays as they went by. “That is… good, isn’t it?” Abby tried, overwhelmed by Carol’s news. This she hadn’t seen coming, even if Carol’s symptoms had reminded her of Gen’s pregnancy. Harge’s terminal phase having taken so long, Abby just hadn’t thought it possible.

Her elbows on the table, Carol leaned forward to put distance between her and the other patrons in the place. She ran her fingers through her hair, and found the back of her neck hot and damp from her slapdash shower. Her doctor’s surprise announcement had punched all air out of her lungs, and she was still reeling from the immediate shock. “Nine weeks already,” she mumbled. “And apparently I’m in fine form. The sicker the mother, the healthier the baby.” Baby. How very odd it was to say it out loud, she thought. It almost sounded like something violent and foreign had been placed inside her instead of it growing gently, meditatively within the confines of her body.

“You’re not showing yet,” Abby stated the obvious. She wished Gen was there with them. She would have known just the right thing to say.

“It may take a while,” Carol said quietly. “It’s early.” She had missed her period, but in the midst of Harge’s last weeks she hadn’t really paid attention to it. Besides, it hadn’t been the first time her cycle was out of whack. Stress and irregular hours can do that.

To expect a child now after all the agony of not being able to have one felt like cruel irony. Only a year ago she would have given anything to bequeath Harge the glimmer of hope he had looked forward to. Carol had imagined what it would be like to give him the good news. She had replayed the scenario over and over again in her head with only minor alterations. All of them had included a moment of exultation, Harge’s eyes being lit up and his attitude thoroughly changed. The only part she had been unsure about was hers, the way she would act in her husband’s fantasy. The feelings of cautious joy and pure bewilderment had alternated in her mind, rendering her restless and fearful every time she had taken the pregnancy test.

“What the fuck was I thinking…” Carol whispered agitatedly. The only thing racing through her mind at the moment was disturbing. She wouldn’t be able to let go of the past, not after this. She knew that the life inside her was no bigger than a cherry, but that her understanding of it amounted hardly to the size of its stone.  

“Stop,” Abby said, “that’s not helpful at all. Give yourself a break.” It was the best she could come up with. “You went along with it, and it happened. It’s not the end of the world.” Abby pressed her forehead gently against Carol’s. “You’re not alone. You have us. Always.” Her confidence gradually returning, Abby made sure Carol knew she meant every single word.

Savoring the truth, they sat in silence for another hour. Their thoughts crossed and collided, hesitated and turned, the noise of the café soon drowned out and defunct.

Walking back home, Carol saw a man who was half inside his car, installing a toddler’s car seat in its place. The hem of his red polo shirt was showing under a knit, green sweater, and he seemed to be struggling with his task. He looked a bit like Harge, Carol thought, broad-shouldered and muscular. But more than any outer resemblance, it was the way he went about his relatively simple business. The stubborn insistence to make it happen without wanting to consult a manual or to ask for help was all too familiar to Carol.

Carol had seen many harges over the past few days, unknown men reflecting his distinguishable qualities, the telltales of his outward appearance. Every time she had been startled, slightly perturbed to witness a familiar characteristic or gesture approaching her or crossing a street in front of her car. Then the stranger had either come close enough or turned around to look at her to shatter the illusion.

It was the appearance of Harge’s former self that now kept resurfacing from the tired, faceless crowds. The hunky appeal of his handsome face, untouched by any illness or hardship, was what she chose to remember. Carol was grateful for that, even if it felt like sugarcoating.

She would have to call Harge’s parents and give them the news. They would be ecstatic, Carol thought, even though the concept of their late son and his wife seeking the help of a fertility clinic would most likely be disturbing to them at first. “The risk of miscarriage drops dramatically after ten to twelve weeks, so you might like to keep this under wraps for a little while longer,” Dr. Phillips had explained. Carol had told Abby, but she was in no hurry to spread the news to her in-laws.

The news. Carol thought of Therese, if and when she would meet her. Would she tell Therese about the baby? If they were to become close, she would have to. Real friends tell each other everything relevant. Would Therese be happy for her? Or would she lose interest in her new acquaintance hampered by a bun in the oven? Therese just didn’t strike Carol as the type who hung around small kids. Not that she had anything to base her assumption upon, she soon realized.

All night Therese had held Carol in her arms in Poughkeepsie, and in the morning she had reached for her hand – to comfort, to support, to signal her understanding. To defend herself against Abby’s teasing, Carol had pointed out that nothing had happened since, nothing physical anyway to justify such tireless ribbing. “Abby, I think this could be a beginning of a beautiful friendship,” she had paraphrased Casablanca to her.

“Tell me one thing, dear Bogie,” Abby had been quick to ask. “Did you guys hug when she first met you on the street in front of your house?” Carol had had no idea where this was coming from. “No? How about when she was leaving – you had just had a great night, such lovelycamaraderie… surely a quick hug, a hasty peck on the cheek between friends?” When Carol had neglected to answer, Abby had smiled tenderly at her. “I rest my case,” she had acquiesced to say.  

Carol lay down on the couch, her head resting on the spot where Therese had sat the other evening. Her temples throbbing, she closed her eyes and hoped to take a nap. How different everything had been only yesterday, Carol mused, depressed. And the day before, gazing at the skies and being giddy over just feeling alive for a change. She had seen the moon, the planets, the starlit lovers above, yet none of it would have meant anything, had she seen them in a different context or with a different person. She knew that. But it still didn’t mean anything, and after this morning, it even couldn’t, Carol suspected.

The sleep eluded her again, and despite a few eyefuls of slumber, Carol gave up. The date on her smart phone said ‘Wednesday’. For a while she couldn’t remember why it looked so important. It was the Vassar Observatory day, the one night the week the doors were open to the public. Carol thought about just showing up there without telling Therese about it first, but the plan had a major flaw in it: Carol couldn’t be sure if she was even working there tonight.

Why not be straightforward about it? Carol mused, dismissing her initial scheme as unnecessarily – coy. She typed Therese a short message, asking what time tonight’s show would begin. She had hardly sent it, when the phone started ringing.

“So you do talk on the phone occasionally?” Carol said as her greeting.

“Hey…” Therese replied. “Too lazy to text, so I decided to make a rare exception.” Carol could almost hear her smiling. “There’s no show at the observatory tonight. The weather’s shitty and it’s not going to clear up any time soon.” Therese sounded genuinely apologetic.

“Oh, that’s really… I’m sorry to hear that,” Carol rambled, her voice giving away her disappointment. She wouldn’t be seeing any celestial objects or Therese for at least another week. She hadn’t prepared herself for this awkwardness either, she lamented privately.

“Carol…” Therese started pensively. “Since you’re apparently free tonight, I’m going to ask you this.” She drew a hasty breath. “I’m about to head down there shortly, and it just occurred to me to ask if you’d like to hang out with me?” Her voice was calm and steady.

“Yes,” Carol blurted out much too soon, but Therese didn’t mind it at all. “Where will this take place?” Carol needed to specify a moment later.

“What?” asked the amused voice at the end of the line.

“Hanging out,” Carol said, chuckling.

“Here and there,” Therese teased Carol, her voice all smiles. “I’ll see you around 5.30.”  

Reinvigorated, Carol abandoned her repose and darted towards the bedroom. She would have two hours and 28 minutes to decide what she would wear tonight. Carol wasn’t sure what the proper outfit for ‘hanging out’ was, but she was certain she would come up with something.

Therese stood behind Carol’s door at the appointed time. To Carol’s surprise, she seemed reluctant to step inside at first. “Do you like flowers?” Therese asked after a moment’s hesitation. “I have flowers in my car but now I started to think that I didn’t see any when I was here, so maybe you don’t like flowers…” Troubled by the second thoughts she was having, Therese exhaled impatiently. “I mean I can go and get them for you, if you want me to, but it’s no big deal if you don’t.” She leaned her right arm against the door frame. “I can always take them to my mom if you’re allergic or something.”

Seriously tickled, Carol bit the corner of her lip. “Get the damn flowers,” she said. Her eyes were brimming with amusement. Therese’s face lit up, and she ran back outside.

Just when Carol was starting to wonder what was keeping her, she heard Therese’s voice from the front entrance. “Can you help me out? I’m sorta stuck…” Whatever she was doing seemed to be giving her a lot of trouble. Finding Therese’s floral bind curious, Carol wasted no time joining her downstairs. Therese’s statement about having flowers in her car seemed suddenly like an understatement to Carol. Carrying six huge boxes under her arm, Therese was trying to get through the front door with all of them intact.  

Carol grabbed the ones about to slip from Therese’s grip. She leaned her back heavily against the door to keep it open for Therese. Once they had worked their way up to Carol’s apartment, Therese laid the boxes on the kitchen island. “My step-sister’s a florist, and she was about to throw these away,” she explained. “That would’ve been just plain stupid.”

Carol saw Therese’s gesture in a slightly different light now, and it tinted her cheeks momentarily. “Well, it was kind of you to think of me,” she mumbled uncertainly.

Therese was busy taking the lids off of the wide, shallow boxes. “I thought these might bring some color and brighten the place up,” she started apprehensively. “I think this is a great apartment, don’t get me wrong,” she hastened to add, “but also a bit… bleak?” She didn’t sound critical, just observant and slightly worried.                   

Carol wondered if she should hug Therese to thank her. It would also give her an opportunity to prove Abby wrong, occurred to her suddenly. “I agree, bleak it is,” she admitted. “Thank you.” Her hands remained glued to her hips. “Let’s see if I can find vases for them.”

 While gathering the suitable glassware on the marble top beside the sink, Carol kept looking over her shoulder to see what kind of secrets the white boxes hid. Therese picked up a handful of lavender and pale pink sweet peas, that seemed so delicate compared to the thickly lobed blush peonies and the bold red ranunculus waiting their turn.

“These are casualties of some wedding that never took place,” Therese revealed. “Carly had ordered everything for the bouquets and the overall decoration, and then they just cancelled at the last minute.” She scoffed at her own thoughts, which Carol guessed weren’t all that sympathetic to the not-so-happy couple.

“Carly is your sister?” she asked, opening another box that contained purple freesias and yellow-hued irises. The gentle fragrance of the freesia was innocent and sweet like the dainty flower itself.

“She’s Bob’s daughter from his first marriage,” Therese said, trying to figure out where to put the roses and the tulips.

“And Bob is..?” Carol asked, amused by the notion of having to drag information out of Therese.

“Bob’s my stepdad,” Therese explained. “And the only dad I’ve ever known. My biological father died when I was just six-months-old so I don’t have any recollection of him.” She took a knife and cut a quarter of an inch off the bottom of the rose stems, at an angle.

“I’m sorry to hear about your father,” Carol started empathetically. “It must’ve been very difficult for your mother.” She thought about another baby who would never know his or her father either.

“It was, of course,” Therese acknowledged, “but she had the good fortune of meeting Bob and starting her life all over.” She finished trimming the roses by removing all the leaves below the water line. “Well, I had the good fortune of meeting Bob,” Therese continued soon after. “I don’t think anyone could’ve loved me like he has,” she said. “I mean everyone loves differently, and I’m not pitching Bob against my real father in any way, if you know what I mean?” Therese glanced at Carol expectantly.

“I think so, yes,” Carol nodded enthusiastically. A part of her was simply overwhelmed by Therese’s sudden influx of words. She took the vase Therese had just prepared and started towards the living room.

“Whoa, sweetheart… you need to jazz it up first,” Therese blurted out to Carol’s great astonishment. Flustered, Carol stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at her. “Umm… that’s what Bob always says,” Therese hastened to defend herself. She chuckled nervously, dodging Carol’s eyes. “He always says stuff like that… he’s kinda adorable.”      

You’re adorable, Carol thought out of the blue. She put the vase back on the island, stupefied by such a small, simple truth; one of many that had started to pile up on the back of her mind like evidence deceptively ready to state its case.

“But these do need to be jazzed up,” Therese pointed out, scratching the back of her head. “Do you have 7Up?” Not waiting for an answer, she peeked inside the fridge and picked up a can. “One part of this, three parts of water, and a couple of drops of bleach,” Therese concluded. “Extend the life span.” Having said it, she glanced nervously at Carol. “I’m sorry, that came out all wrong.”

Carol didn’t find Therese’s quip insensitive. Truth be told, she hadn’t even noticed it but she appreciated her gesture anyway. “It’s alright,” she said. “No need to walk on egg shells on my account.” She smiled at Therese to convince her of the sincerity of her sentiment. “I don’t want you to act any different around me than you do.” Therese looked at her intently as if trying to grasp the real dimensions of her words.

“Let’s not then,” Therese grinned at Carol mischievously. “Wanna take a ride with me?” she asked her, throwing the question like a gauntlet at Carol’s feet.

“Sure,” Carol replied, her stomach in lovely, ethereal knots. The uneasy fluttering and the sudden elation seesawed inside her, but it wasn’t all there was to it. What Carol felt bore a semblance of happiness, and it was more than what she had known for a very long time. Surrounded by the spring blooms, so impetuous in their beauty, she would have taken a trip to moon and back, had Therese only asked her to.

Therese was the unannounced sally off the beaten track of Carol’s life, and Carol knew it. She wanted to level with her, to tell Therese about the cherry, the rambunctious pip of new life in her, but the need to cling to what was perfectly unmarred by her reality was too strong, too intoxicating. Chances are, she won’t understand, so why not be misunderstood tomorrow instead of today? she questioned in silence and not for the first time today either.

After having transformed the apartment into a ‘fragrant spring meadow’, as Carol put it, or, according to Therese, an ‘ad hoc espousal’, they left Manhattan. This took Carol some time to figure out, since Therese refused to divulge their destination. Less than an hour later they arrived at Scotch Plains, New Jersey.

Therese parked her Jeep in the driveway in front of a two-car garage. She had taken such a quick turn to her right Carol hadn’t had the chance to see where they had ended up. “You seemed so curious I thought why not see for yourself,” Therese grinned.

“See what?” Carol asked, gazing at a rather plain ranch house with a salmon brick exterior, cedar siding and a side-gabled roof. A single, wide bay window dominated the front next to the entrance. Everything looked well-tended: the quaint house, the drowsy lawn.

“Casa McElroy. My home.” Therese flashed a wicked smile, guessing she wouldn’t have been able to convince Carol to join her had she known about it. Before Carol had the chance to fully grasp what was happening, Therese had opened the door and walked right into the arms of a bulky man in his late fifties. “Carol, this is Bob – Bob, meet Carol.”

Bob McElroy had a kind, round face with crinkly signs of regular, hearty laughs. He wasn’t a tall man, and he most certainly wasn’t particularly attractive either, but what he lacked in good looks, he made up in unbridled enthusiasm. His scrubby beard and equally puny moustache might have struck Carol as comical, had she not seen how tremendously happy Bob was to reunite with his daughter again. The man wearing a bright red CBGB T-shirt under a multi-colored, checked shirt was drying his eyes when he finally turned his attention on his guest.

“What a great name,” Bob grinned. “I bet you know the Chuck Berry classic by heart?” Carol stared at him nonplussed. “’Oh Carol, don’t let him steal your heart away…’” Bob waited for a sign of recognition that never came.

“Come on, Bob,” a friendly female voice chimed in. “Let her in, for God’s sake, before any third degree.” The woman took Carol aside, and gently ordered her husband to go and set the table. “I’m Rose, Therese’s mother.” She had the same raven hair as her daughter, only with streaks of grey marking the passage of time. “And those two extremely impolite nerds on the couch are Dannie and Phil, Therese’s brothers.“ Though the two young men in their early twenties still chose not to pay attention to their arrival, Rose’s dissatisfaction with her sons’ behavior was only for show. “Sweetie,” she turned to face her daughter, “you have no idea what it means to Bob that you remembered.”

Now it was Therese’s time to look confused. “Umm… Mom, just between you and me, what was it again I so fortuitously remembered?”

Rolling her eyes at her daughter, Rose chuckled in disbelief. “The Chicago Tribute Night at the Crossroads…” she muttered under her breath. The sharp look in her eyes told Carol that Therese would have a snowball’s chance in hell to wiggle her way out of it.

“I’m not sure if we can come,” Therese started, glancing nervously at Carol. “It’s not that I don’t want to…”

Bob raised his palm behind his left ear. “What am I hearing? Who’s not coming?” His question seemed to awaken Dannie and Phil as well. Carol was startled to see the younger, leaner versions of Bob abandon their post and hear the reason for their sister’s hesitation.

“It’s me,” Carol intervened on Therese’s behalf. “I need to get back to Manhattan before it gets too late.” Had Carol for a second thought she had done a good job avoiding an impending 1980s schlock hit parade, such conviction faded away sooner than anyone saw coming. Bob wasn’t going to let her off the hook.

“You can’t go.” Bob said with the benevolence of a guy who knows he’s right. “You just got here. Besides…” He glanced at his boys, making sure they were on the same wavelength with their old man.

“’If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me…’” sang Bob’s tender tenor voice unexpectedly.

“’Uuh, uuh, uuh, uuh, no, baby please don’t go…’” accompanied Dannie and Phil, their eyes rapturously closed.

One way of being put on the spot, Carol thought, bowled over by the abrupt display of musical emotion. She didn’t have to look at Therese to know how amused she was. Carol could feel it in her bones. “Umm… okay,” she said, her face deepening in color. If there was a quick comeback for being serenaded out of all objections, Carol didn’t know it.

“Then it’s settled!” Bob exclaimed, exuding the same kind of excitement Carol had witnessed in Therese when Carol had agreed to go stargazing with her. The way his eyes sparkled, quickened out of the pleasure of knowing what was to come was disarming and lovely. Carol thought how insignificant of a part biology played in the manners people adopt. The wiry Therese Belivet was undoubtedly the antithesis of the stubby Bob McElroy, but observed at close range she was indeed her father’s daughter.

“We’d better eat, so we won’t be late,” Rose McElroy stated. “Sit down while I finish the salad.” She started towards a spacious kitchen next to the dining area.

“Why don’t you show Carol your room, T?” Phil taunted her sister who wasn’t beneath resorting to well-aimed jabs to shut his smartass mouth.

“Yeah, sis,” Dannie retorted, “as long as the door stays open!” Therese leapt all over his youngest sibling, polishing her knuckles on his shaggy hair.

“You guys are so funny, aren’t you?” Therese laughed nervously. Her mother seemed to pick up on her embarrassment.

“Carol,” Rose said, “Will you help me?” Carol was more than happy to oblige.

“Have you known Therese for long?” Rose asked her when they were no longer within earshot. Dicing cherry tomatoes, Carol shook her head. “Well, she doesn’t need me to advertise her good qualities,” Rose said quietly. “Whenever Therese knows what she wants, she’ll go after it,” she continued. “Like this astrophotography thing.”

Carol looked up from her chopping board. “It is an admirable quality, I’m not sure if I can say the same about myself.” It had always been easier to float along the current instead of making waves.

“I said whenever she wants,” Rose felt the need to specify, “bias being on the ‘when’ because first you have to know what it is you want.” She sighed, gazing at her daughter who was teaching the facts of life to her hapless brothers. “I know I should just keep my mouth shut but I’d hate to see her get hurt again.” Not unlike Therese, Rose cast her eyes down. “A selfish wish in a way, since I don’t think I could stand it anymore.”

Carol didn’t know what to say or if she was even supposed to say anything. Nevertheless she felt a jolt in her stomach, a nervous twitch resembling worry or guilt or both. “Therese called me yesterday and told me about you,” Rose said. “Only good things, my dear,” she smiled at Carol, noticing her alarmed surprise. She picked up the salad bowl and motioned towards the dining area.

They squeezed in around the small table, arms and legs brushing against each other on both sides. Carol sat sandwiched between Therese and Rose, aware of the turbulence the former’s proximity was capable of causing in her. Every time anyone moved or reached out for something, be it the potatoes, the gravy or the drumsticks, the ring around the table rippled, intensified. Therese’s thigh inched against Carol’s or the sleeve of her shirt grazed the cashmere of Carol’s tight-fitting sweater. Had they turned their heads too recklessly to face one another, their noses might have collided, raced through Carol’s mind.

The manner in which the McElroy family gobbled down their meal left no doubt in Carol’s mind of their relative disinterest in food. Or maybe they were just anxious to get going, Bob checking the time every two minutes. Papa & The Boys would be performing in a bar not too far away from their home. Specializing in cover bands and hit music of yesteryears, the joint in question seemed a very familiar one to the McElroys.

“Is Carly coming?” Therese asked Phil when they were clearing out the table. Glancing at Bob, Therese’s brother shrugged his shoulders.

When their father had left to pack the car, Dannie let out a sad little whistle. “Dad had a run-in with Jack, so we’re not sure if Carly’s gonna be there either,” he explained. Jack Taft was Carly’s husband, who had had the bromance of a lifetime with his father-in law, Therese told Carol. He had also played the bass in the band.

“What happened?” Therese asked, shocked to hear such unnerving news.

“Artistic differences,” Phil elaborated. “Jack wanted to play Journey.” He drew a long, exasperated breath.

“Good God…” Therese gasped. “Poor Carly, I had no idea.” Carol couldn’t quite figure out why Journey was bad and Chicago good, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about it.

Half an hour later they were ready to leave. “We’ll follow you,” Therese said, flicking the car keys in the air.

“Okay, Teddy,” Bob confirmed, winking at both his daughter and Carol. “See you in a bit.” A slightly bruised Ford station wagon pulled out of the garage and onto the driveway.

“Teddy, huh?” Carol asked as soon as Therese’s Jeep had settled into a comfortable distance from Bob’s weather-beaten vehicle.  

“Yeah,” Therese smiled warmly. “It’s either Ted, Teddy or T, hardly ever Therese with Bob or my brothers.” She sounded happy and relaxed.

“Why is that?” Carol asked, curious to know the nickname’s origin.

“When Dannie and Phil were just toddlers, I went through this really intense tomboy phase,” Therese elaborated. “And I was envious of my brothers, because I wanted to be a boy as well.” She took a slow turn to the right, following Bob’s taillights. “One time when we were visiting Bob’s relatives in Rhode Island, I got really upset because everyone was gushing over what a pretty girl I was despite my unisex looks,” Therese explained. “So the next time we saw someone I hadn’t met before, Bob introduced me as his son ‘Theodore’. I loved it.” The memory was happy and serene, enough to warm not only Therese but also anyone privileged to hear it, Carol thought. Her appreciation of Bob McElroy soared sky high.

They arrived at the Crossroads half an hour before the scheduled show time. The place was filling up fast, which wasn’t always the case with the cover bands in there, Rose told Carol. The sound check awaited but Bob wasn’t in any hurry to do it just yet. His eyes narrowed, he kept sniffing the air of the rowdy barroom like an old sea dog on the look out for the perfect storm. “It’s going to be amazing,” he declared, grinning from ear to ear. “Outstanding!”

While waiting for the show to begin, Carol fetched Therese a craft beer from the bar, settling for a club soda herself. “If you want to have a real drink,” she said to Therese, “I can drive the Jeep back to Manhattan.” Even if she couldn’t drink herself, it didn’t have to affect Therese in any way.

Therese looked at Carol as if she had said something truly fantastic. “You driving The Jeeper?” Therese repeated the idea incredulously. “I. Don’t. Think. So.” Hearty laughter followed her measured disbelief.

“Oh really?” Carol scoffed at Therese’s put-down. “You don’t think I can drive your car?” she questioned, ready to get to the bottom of this.

“Too bad you weren’t here for the Beatles Tribute,” Therese replied, a faint smile flickering around her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carol asked, stunned by an answer that made no sense to her.

“Oh, nothing,” Therese said, taking a slow sip from her bottle. To her great relief, Papa and the Boys were just about to start their turn. 

The showroom was crowded enough before the band had played the first bars of their opening number, but the actual sounds served to jam-pack the area even tighter. Rose had chosen to sit at the bar, but Therese and Carol had decided to brave the immediacy of both the live act and its no-holds-barred audience. They stood side by side, trying to maintain a safe distance from the crowd mobbing the limited space right in front of the stage.

I don't want you to misunderstand me / I just want to say what's on my mind…

More people kept pushing in, juiced up by too many beers and a hefty dose of 80s nostalgia. Therese moved closer to Carol, willing to bump out the ones who accidentally veered her way. Bob had the audience eating out of his hand already, but Carol struggled to appreciate the band’s efforts. It got extremely hard during the refrain.

Stay the night, there's room enough here for two / Stay the night, I'd like to spend it with you

Stay the night, why don't we call it a day / No on can stop us, and nothing is in the way

 

Carol avoided looking at Therese altogether. Her mind awhirl, she didn’t need to glance at the tacky wall mirror either. She knew only too well how deeply red her cheeks, ears and neck were.

It comes from friendly conversation / And if you still don't have a clue

Unless there's something else you've got in mind / We've got better things to do

 

“I THINK HE’S DOING A GREAT JOB,” Therese shouted over the general mayhem.

Just to have you near me

“WHAT?” Carol asked, still unwilling to quite look at her.

And when I get next to your body

“BOB’S GOOD!” Therese attempted again.

Just to have you near me

“WOULD I WHAT?” Carol asked, confused.

When Dannie revved his guitar into a savage solo, Therese gave up trying. Amused, she leaned against the wall and enjoyed what little was left of her beer.

“ANYONE FEELING INSPIRED TONIGHT?” Bob greeted his grateful audience after he and the boys had tackled their first four numbers. Drying his forehead with a handkerchief, he took a sip from a water bottle. “Okay, gentlemen, time to show your soft side to the ladies,” he urged. “Fill the floor.” Grinning, he nodded at the boys. “Oh, and this means you too, Theodore…”

Therese didn’t say anything at first, and had Carol not turned to look at her, she probably wouldn’t have at all. The temptation to do so was just too big, Carol thought. “So how about it?” Therese asked discreetly. “He’s not going to let me off the hook if I don’t at least ask you.” 

You're the meaning in my life / You're the inspiration

Extending her left hand to Therese, Carol refrained from using words at all. Closing the gap, she placed her right hand on Therese’s shoulder to allow herself be led on the dance floor. Despite all her earlier musings, all the sweet discomfort she had experienced, Carol found their sudden nearness natural and fulfilling. Being able to feel the contours of Therese’s back under her palm and having her slender frame compliment her own body in every slow move suffused Carol with acute pleasure.

You bring feeling to my life / You're the inspiration

So many things I have forgotten, Carol thought, pressed against the warmth of Therese, yet I doubt if I’ll ever lose this. The small disco ball above diffused the white light into patches of silver climbing up and down their bodies. 

Want to have you near me / I want to have you hear me saying

"No one needs you more than I need you"

The power ballad fading out, the steps on the dance floor slowed down and steered the couples away. Therese led Carol into the barroom and found a secluded table for them. She looked at Carol but didn’t say anything. Carol wanted to ask what Therese was thinking but couldn’t. She stared at Therese’s hands on the table instead, at a loss what to do or say.

“Want to get out of here?” Therese asked calmly.

“Yes,” Carol said.