Carol
Carol had changed her clothes several times before she realized that if she didn’t leave now, she would be more than fashionably late for Therese’s opening at the gallery. She desperately tried to close the buttons of her white shirt, an almost impossible task due to her shaking hands.
“I’m behaving like a schoolgirl on her first date …”, she muttered to herself, reaching for the jacket of her black Armani suit, the suit she had also worn when she first picked up Therese at the airport. Unfamiliar with Therese’s world in New York, she felt insecure. What should she wear? She imagined the other guests to be young, unconventional and artistic types, the kind of people she felt unfamiliar and, she had to admit, also somewhat uncomfortable with.
Checking her outfit for the last time, she sighed. For now, she had to deal with this uncertainty, something she was not used to. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. Here she was, at forty, a confident and well established lawyer, wife and mother, who nevertheless was petrified to mingle with the friends and colleagues of the woman she had only just met and fallen in love with. She smiled at herself in the mirror, a not very convincing smile. Grabbing her black leather bag, she mumbled an encouragement.
“Be brave, Carol, you’ll be fine …”
______________________________________
She had arrived at New York a few days earlier than she had originally planned. A week ago Abby had surprised her by handing her the keys to the Madison Avenue apartment that the Gerhardt Company used as a pied-à-terre in New York.
“I think you should take some time off and try to get to know the city, to experience what it feels and looks like, before you meet Therese. Try to imagine yourself living there. She’s a New Yorker after all.”
Carol had been deeply touched by Abby’s gesture. Although they had not talked about it, she could sense that Abby struggled with the new developments in her best friend’s life, that no doubt would also influence their friendship. Accepting her offer, she had simply wrapped her arms around Abby and had held her tight until the insistent ringing of Abby’s phone had forced them to let go.
Leaving had been difficult. Harge had been furious, because it meant she would not join him during a short election tour through the southern counties of Utah. In the weeks following their lunch when Carol had told him she wanted to end their arrangement, they had entered a stalemate, with Harge stubbornly refusing to cooperate. Clearly, Marjorie’s efforts to make him change his mind had yet remained unsuccessful.
And Rindy too did not want her to leave, especially when she realized her mother was going to visit Therese in New York. As promised, Therese had e-mailed the pictures Rindy had made at Abby’s house and Rindy had pinned several of them on the walls of her room. Carol noticed that she had put one on her desk: a photo of Therese smiling mischievously into the lens, with an enthusiastic dachshund Alice in her arms. Amused, Carol concluded that her daughter also seemed to have a serious crush on the young photographer. She couldn’t blame her.
To her own surprise Carol thoroughly enjoyed being alone in New York. She had visited some museums, immersed herself in countless bookstores, hired a bicycle to explore Central Park and had walked through The High Line Park to admire the gardens by the Dutch landscape artist Piet Oudolf. In the evening, surrounded by her new books, she relished the peaceful silence of the apartment, enjoying the exotic meals she had picked up on her way home.
Soon, she felt her body relax, and she realized how long other people had dictated the pace and direction of her life: her clients and colleagues at work, the obligations that came with Harge’s political career, the many committees she chaired and even Rindy’s school musicals and soccer matches. Things would really have to change, she once more decided, regardless of a possible future with Therese.
_______________________________
The Brooklyn gallery turned out to be a former hardware store that now housed some workshops and a small space used for exhibitions. Carol paid the cabdriver and turned to take in the front of the gallery, where a few young men, a bottle of beer in hand, were engaged in a heated discussion, not noticing that they were blocking the entrance. Trying to mask her uncertainty, she hesitantly approached the group when one of the men noticed her. Beaming, he unexpectedly took her arm and steered her to the door.
“You must be Carol Aird!”
Unable to hide her surprise Carol looked up at his smiling face, framed by dark, horn-rimmed glasses.
“How do you know …”
“How couldn’t I know! Therese has told so much about you!”
Letting go of her arm he extended his hand.
“Dannie McElroy. I’m a colleague of Therese.”
Carol shook his hand, immediately feeling more at ease thanks to his easy, warm manner.
“Pleased to meet you, colleague of Therese.”
They had entered the space where Therese’s photographs were displayed. It was packed. Scanning the room, Dannie waved his hand to the farthest right hand corner.
“I believe she must be there somewhere.”
Thanking him, Carol tried to make her way through the animated crowd. It filled her with pride to see so many visitors. Therese had clearly been too modest when she said her exhibition would be nothing much. She was blocked by a small group that stood in front of a large photograph of a woman and child; the woman seated at a table while the child, a young girl, leaned against her arm. They were bathed in a warm light that faded their contours, giving the scene an almost dreamlike air. With a shock Carol realized it was one of the pictures Therese had taken of her and Rindy on the terrace, the very first day she had arrived in Salt Lake City.
A woman standing next to Carol bowed to read the short text that was pinned next to the photograph.
“On meeting C. and R.”
She turned to Carol.
“This is lovely. I wonder who …” her words stuck when she recognized Carol’s face.
Carol blushed vehemently, murmuring “Excuse me”, before she turned around quickly. Where the hell was Therese?
And then she saw her, talking to two older women who were listening to her attentively while she seemed to explain something about the large portrait of a homeless man that hung nearby. Carol’s eyes were drawn to Therese’s earnest, young face, her beautiful green eyes fixed on the two eager women in front of her. She was dressed in the lovely black dress that she had worn the first night at the Eccles Theatre and Carol felt a powerful stirring in her lower abdomen that made her realize how much she had longed for this moment. She lifted her hand and waved, trying to draw Therese’s attention. One of the women noticed Carol’s waving hand and pointed at her, making Therese aware of the fact that, at long last, Carol had come.
They did not cry or run into each other’s arms. Instead, their eyes locked in a long gaze that told them both how much the other woman had missed her, had longed for her, had craved for this moment. Smiling, Carol slowly walked up to Therese, opening her arms for the young woman. The intensity of their embrace made them both tremble.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
Closing her eyes, Carol buried her face into Therese’s long, dark hair. Therese’s arms circled Carol’s waist, pulling her even closer.
“Can I kiss you?”, she whispered in Carol’s ear.
Suddenly, Carol was aware of the fact that they were standing in the middle of an amused group of people who were looking very curiously at them. But instead of her usual shying away from showing her feelings in public, she was overwhelmed by the sheer joy of having Therese in her arms again. Smiling inwardly she replied:
“I thought you’d never ask…”