Therese
The party was drawing to an end and Therese wondered what to do next. She was leaning against an empty desk in a corner of one of the many newsrooms, clenching a beer bottle in her hand. When Dannie had suggested to go to the farewell party for one of his reporter friends at the Times, she had not been too keen. But the prospect of spending her evening alone at her silent apartment proved even less tempting, so after some deliberation she had joined him.
Looking at the almost empty bottle, she pondered if she would get another one, but decided against it. She felt lightheaded, due, no doubt, not only to the alcohol but even more to the fact that she had hardly eaten anything. It had been a busy day, but she had to admit that it was not a lack of time but a lack of appetite that made her skip her meals regularly. She felt out of sync, depressed, even. It had been like this ever since Carol had returned to Salt Lake City.
Therese sighed, turning the bottle in her hands. Carol. Their weekend together had left an indelible impression on her, leaving her filled with longing but also plagued by uncertainties. Being once again with Carol had been exhilarating, making her feel becoming part of a bigger whole that consisted of this wonderful, enigmatic woman and herself. But in her head she could not stop herself repeating their conversation at the playground.
In a way she was ashamed of her outburst, but she also knew that for the first time she had talked, really talked, about her deepest fears. She was grateful to Carol that she had given her the room to speak out. Most of all, Carol didn’t ask questions afterwards, as if she knew that Therese needed time to breath, to heal. Their lovemaking, after they went back to the apartment, had been different from their earlier encounters, more caring and suffused with tenderness.
Closing her eyes, Therese tried to shake off the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She had opened up to Carol, but could she trust her? Or would Carol give up on her, alarmed by what she saw and heard? And Therese knew that if she did, she wouldn’t blame her…
“Hey …”
Therese felt a hand lightly touch her shoulder.
“Are you OK?”
She opened her eyes, meeting the worried gaze of the young waitress who, together with a heavily moustached Greek giant, was in charge of the bar and was now collecting the stray bottles scattered around the newsroom.
“Yes, yes I’m fine…”
Therese smiled, a not very convincing smile obviously, because the girl persisted:
“Can I get you anything, a glass of water, perhaps?”
Therese shrugged.
“No, no thanks. I’m okay, really.
The waitress put down the crate she was carrying, placing it on the desk next to Therese and took the beer bottle from her, cramming it into the already full box. Then she seemed to hesitate but eventually she turned to Therese.
“Look, I …”
Therese frowned, searching the girl’s light brown eyes, her face a question mark.
“Yes?”
The girl blushed, then seemed to make up her mind.
“Look, I’ve been watching you and, and I wondered … wondered if you would like to come with me .. after the party that is …”
She stretched out her hand.
“I ’m Rachel, by the way.”
Startled by this sudden request, Therese slowly shook her hand.
“Therese.”
She looked up at the young woman, a tall and attractive, slender redhead. It was not the first time that somebody, male or female, tried to pick her up. Therese did not find herself very attractive, and it always mystified her when she was approached by someone who thought otherwise. But she also felt flattered and every so often she would accept the offer for a drink, a dinner or something more intimate from a woman that attracted her.
This time, she hesitated. With Gen, she had had an understanding. Their relationship had been loose, not based on monogamy, at least not until Genevieve had asked her to come with her to Cambridge when she obtained her teaching position there. But now there was Carol. Intuitively, Therese was certain that to Carol a relationship would be totally exclusive. It was a thrilling but also daunting realization.
“Well?”
Rachel smiled, a shy smile, that betrayed her uncertainty about the outcome of her bold move. Therese closed her eyes. Carol was not here. Her apartment would offer nothing but oppressing silence and a very empty refrigerator. She nodded.
“Okay”.
After she had persuaded the Greek giant to finish their shift without her, Rachel suggested to go to a small Italian restaurant near the Times building. Seeing Therese leave with the attractive waitress, Dannie had called after her.
“Hey, were are you going?”
Ignoring his question, Therese only waved, gesturing that she would call him. He frowned, wanting to show his concern. She had not been herself these past few days, and it worried him. Her reunion with Carol didn’t seem to have the effect on her he had expected. He decided not to wait for her call, but to telephone her himself the next day.
Rachel turned out to be pleasant company, engaging and attentive. She took care of their food (“They have a very decent vitello tonnato and their tagliatelle with truffles is divine”) and ordered a deliciously dry Pinot Grigio that soon added to the wooziness in Therese’s head. Rachel was at NYCU, hoping to finish her MBA within a year and to start her own business after that, selling delicatessen.
“Good food is my passion, actually, and I want to sell that sensation to other people.”
Therese had mostly listened to Rachel’s stories, nodding at appropriate moments and adding only a few details about herself to the conversation. Rachel didn’t seem to notice, too focused on making a good impression on her companion. And as the evening progressed Therese, helped by the effects of a second bottle of wine, became more and more aware of the signs that Rachel indeed wanted to prolong their encounter after they would leave the restaurant.
She did not oppose when Rachel at first tentatively touched her arm and soon after that took her hand, caressing it with her fingers. Their knees inevitably had touched several times in the confines of the snug booth where they were seated, but after some time Therese also felt a foot touching her ankle, then slide up her calf. Amused, she noticed how the girl discreetly kept refilling her glass.
The entire evening Therese had the strange sensation of watching herself from a distance, as if she was seated at the table next to the two attractive young women, observing how the seemingly nervous red haired girl was trying to entice the other; a slightly older, brooding brunette, who seemed to remain indifferent to her attention. And surely, after they had finished their meal and her companion had insisted on paying the bill, Therese found herself outside the restaurant, facing a now clearly flustered Rachel. She remained passive, waiting for the girl to make her next move. Rachel shifted her backpack, then stepped closer. Her eyes searched Therese’s.
“Shall I walk you to the subway or do you want to …”
Suddenly, Therese felt Rachel’s lips on her own. Her kiss was compelling and at first Therese answered by opening her lips to allow Rachel to enter her mouth with her tongue. Rachel wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. But pressed against the slender body of the taller woman, Therese abruptly was reminded of that other body that only a week ago she had held in her arms, overwhelmed by an unfamiliar tenderness and longing to simply give herself away. What was she doing?
Panting, Therese pushed Rachel away.
“Oh God, I’m sorry…”
Rachel grabbed her arm, unwilling to let her go.
“Come on Therese, you gave me the impression that you wanted this too…”
Trembling, Therese put her hand on Rachel’s chest forcing her to step back.
“No, no … I don’t want this. Not any more …” she added, more speaking to herself than to the indignant woman in front of her.
Therese made herself look into Rachel’s eyes that were filled with anger.
“I’m sorry that I gave you the wrong impression, but … I’m actually seeing someone.”
Therese lifted her chin, as if to make certain her words would have the right impact on Rachel, who was still standing far too close. But Rachel raised her eyebrows and exaggeratedly scanned their surroundings.
“I don’t see anyone.”
Therese felt a sharp fury replace her earlier passivity.
“She lives in Salt Lake City.”
Rachel whistled, a mocking sound.
“Well, that’s convenient.”
“Don’t you dare to judge me!”
They were standing face to face now, both agitated, the air between them filled with anger. Rachel was the first to speak.
“Oh, fuck you Therese …”
Then she turned abruptly and walked away.
Still trembling, Therese watched how Rachel disappeared into the crowd that even at this late hour filled the sidewalk. She shrugged, as if to free herself of the emotional burden that had accumulated on her shoulders these past few days. She was a fool, not to see what was right in front of her: Carol, who was willing to listen to her, to put up with her fears and uncertainties, to even love her after that.
Therese reached for her phone, then hesitated. She had drunk too much to be coherent. And she wanted to be coherent, to be as clear as possible, as lucid as she had never been before. She checked the time. The two hour time difference made it plausible that Carol would still be up and able to read a text message. She opened the right screen, then started typing.
“I need you. I want to see you.”
The message was received, then read. Carol’s answer came immediately.
“Come now.”