You're the One That I Want
It was the night of The Carnegie Hall concert, and Therese was starting to feel really nervous about it. It was her first solo performance - the first big time performance - and she was sorry to have Carol miss it altogether. She was giving a concert in Miami the very same night.
Abby and Gen were present, and seeing them together made Therese happy. There was something unusually shy about the two of them as if their respective raucous natures had somehow given in to a gentler, much happier mode of conduct they were now eager to share.
She had no doubt that Gen and Abby were a force to reckon with even between themselves. Even if Gen tried to describe their relationship as a sort of a "bed and breakfast" type of thing, Therese knew better. She knew her friend well enough to see how taken by Abby she really was. Gen was terribly, formidably smitten, this she knew for a fact. As for Abby, she couldn't quite tell. She could only hope for the best. Carol would know about Abby, she contemplated. She would see it from her like Therese saw it from Gen.
To see Gen like this was like seeing herself two years earlier. Gen was going through a magnificent transformation as falling for someone always by default was. Yet Therese could see there was nothing default-like in it, nothing she'd have seen over and over again, nothing used or clichee-like.
Therese wondered if Gen herself had awaken to it, had seen herself as the amazing someone who finally now pushes her head through the suffocating surface of merely existing, towards the most absolute sunlight, to the abundant horizon of expectations never yet met. Through the numbing pain, the nagging disappointment, the redundancy of days gone unnoticed. To love and to be alive, to make the leap of faith with your eyes wide open - even to the fact that you may get hurt in the process.
She hated people who were slack with their emotions. Slack and undefined, sluggish and careless. How could anyone be so jovial about love in the first place? Love was not a current of needy whims waiting to be satisfied nor a frivolous pastime for the eternally bored. A marvelous wind of god it was, the one that swept the ill-advised bystanders of everyday routines off their feet and made them the charismatic protagonists of their own lives.
The diamond life, shiny and uncompromising, lovely and absolute. She knew she had it with Carol, she knew it with a staggering certainty and every time she acknowledged it, it made her happy, ecstatic. She had it and she wanted it.
If she had but one wish in her life it was always the same. She wished for Carol. Was it normal to be so excited, so elated, so ecstatic about just one person in particular? At the same time nothing of their connection fit the spectrum of mere normalcy since it couldn't contain even an ounce of the happiness they'd found together. If normalcy is what I've seen around me before Carol, I want no part of it, Therese realized.
Seeing her friends in the audience, she braced herself for the performance. She would do Sibelius and Ravel tonight. The first one she had chosen because of the upcoming competition. A Finnish composer to set her mood for a Finnish competition.
Playing the Op. 7 of his The Trees series called The Spruce, Therese remembered the Christmas they had decorated the tree together with Rindy. It had been their first as a couple and it had left an indelible mark on her mind. Carol had held them both in her arms and planted first a kiss on Rindy's cheek, then another one on Therese's lips. She had felt Rindy's gaze on them both when they had kissed. The little girl had climbed on both of their laps and cupped their cheeks to bring them close together again. "I love it when you two kiss." And Therese had thought this was the first time she had witnessed it. How simple, natural and pure love is when perceived by an innocent, straight-forward mind. How it should always be perceived.
Pavane pour une infante défunte had been one of the first pieces she had played to Rindy - and made her cry while doing so. Pavane for a dead princess, as the title translates, was too much for this little princess, Therese had mused cradling the sobbing girl in her arms. Now she was playing the same Ravel piece at the Carnegie wishing both Carol and Rindy were there to listen to her.
Dannie brought her flowers after the concert. "I suppose this means you're not coming back to work at the bar?" He and Alice were beaming. "Suppose not," Therese replied smiling, still quite overtaken by the effort she'd put into her interpretations. "I've got a big check waiting for you at the office," Abby quipped entering the dressing room. "I like the sound of that," she smiled, "and I'd like to put some of it to good use right now. How about I treat you guys to a late snack and a few drinks?" Therese wasn't ready to go back home just yet.
"We'll take a rain check... it was good seeing you, Terry." Dannie and Alice backed out of the room. "Maybe some other night?" Abby and Gen exchanged hurried glances. "Don't really feel like going out tonight", said Gen avoiding Therese's eyes. Since when? "I actually feel like calling it a night as well", Abby concluded, "come on, we'll give you a ride home." What the hell? Everyone's ditching me? Therese frowned putting on her overcoat. Fine.
Depressed, she opened the door to Carol's apartment. She shouldn't feel sad, not really. It had been a spectacular evening for her after all. Did I leave the light on at the bedroom? Therese stepped further in.
"Hello darling..." If there was such a thing as instant happiness, this was it. "I hear your concert went really well." Carol smiled. "I should know since I was there... well, not the entire time, I couldn't make it to the beginning, but I did pick up the enthusiasm you created." The gray eyes were full of tenderness.
"Carol..." she could only say her eyes welling up with tears. "Dearest..." Carol cupped her chin and kissed her lips, her tears gently, not losing eye contact for one second. "My love..." Pulling Therese even closer she led her to the bedroom.
There was no rush this time. No need for words. Melting under her lover's touch, Therese let Carol undress her achingly slowly. Lips on her collarbone, neck, fingertips brushing her sides as if by accident... the utter sweetness of two bodies coming together, making the soft, muffled sounds of desire until the ultimate quivering, fluttering, undulating - becoming almost too much and everything at the same time.
"Darling, I love you", Carol whispered overcome by her release and emotion. "I'm so tired. Let me sleep in your arms tonight." Therese wrapped her arms, her everything, around Carol. "Only now I can rest. Right here so close to your dreams."