roisa at pride pt. 1
“Why did you bring me with you?”
Rose’s voice is soft, and she looks down at her pale white hands – Luisa follows her gaze. They haven’t moved from her car; she’d made sure to drive because she’d been what feels like hundreds of times before, and she knows this part of the city better than anyone else in her entire family, including the drivers. She didn’t want to get stuck in traffic, and she wanted to be able to find somewhere private to park for just this sort of conversation.
“Because I thought you might want to go,” Luisa says, voice equally soft, like down feathers in a brand new pillow. “You could come as my chaperone and then no one’s worried about me drinking and no one’s worried about why you’re here.” She reaches over and places one hand on top of Rose’s, gentling turning it over so that she can interlace their fingers together. “Was that not okay?”
Rose doesn’t look up. She watches as Luisa’s thumb begins to rub circles on her skin.
“I know it’s not the same,” Luisa continues, “as if you were out and going, but I thought you would want to celebrate.”
“What’s there to celebrate?” Rose asks, her hand limp in Luisa’s. “I’m still married to your father, and I’m still afraid to be with you.” She still doesn’t look up, and her voice is heavy, despite how quietly she is speaking. “I don’t see how being here helps.”
Luisa gives Rose’s hand a squeeze and held it, tight, in her hand. “Just forget about all of that for a while. Just be here, and be you, and no one else will care.”
“What if someone takes pictures?” Rose returns the squeeze, but it’s so tight that Luisa can feel her white painted nails digging into her skin. “What if your father finds out?”
“He won’t. Dad’s never been one to look through pictures of my exploits or places where there might be my exploits.” Luisa laughs, shaking her head. “He has actively avoided every bar in the city just because he’s afraid one of them has my name in some award spot on the wall. Trust me, he won’t look.” She reaches over and very carefully lifts Rose’s face, guiding her so that their eyes can meet. “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.” Her thumb brushes along Rose’s cheekbone. “I won’t drink. You can go shopping downtown. No one will know.”
Rose closes her eyes and leans her face into the warmth of Luisa’s hand. She nods, brushing the tip of her nose against Luisa’s palm. “I want to go with you,” she says, hesitant, and presses a kiss to the center of Luisa’s hand, “but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of who might see us…of who might see me.” She opens her eyes, and crystal blue as they are, they seem like a sky full of storms – rain – instead of the normally cloudless sky they seem to be in every other moment they’ve spent together.
“It’s okay. That’s okay, don’t worry.” Luisa leans forward, lips brushing against Rose’s. Then her eyes light up – not with mischief, the way that Rose’s sometimes do, but with a lightbulb of understanding. “Stay here,” she says, still close enough to Rose for her breath to be hot on her lips. “I have an idea.”
“Luisa,” Rose says, voice tight, as Luisa starts out of the car.
When Luisa turns back, she can see panic in Rose’s eyes. “Don’t worry,” she says again, halfway out of the car. “I have a plan. This will work. Trust me.”
She notes the little half-moons in the back of her right hand as she hurries out of the parking garage. A couple of them are tinged with shiny red. Her stomach flips.
She hurries.
Rose is still sitting in the car when Luisa returns. Her eyes aren’t focused on her hands or down in her lap anymore; instead, they are searching through the windows, and Luisa assumes she’s looking for any trace of her, probably wondering if she can leave or if she will have to sit there for hours before she returns.
Luisa waves one hand, and Rose turns to her. Despite everything, Rose seems to relax until her eyes catch on the white plastic bag in Luisa’s hand. She can only offer her a lopsided smile until she gets back to the car, at which point she places the bag between them. “Look,” she says, pulling out a rainbow wig and a masquerade mask, colorful and covered with sequins. “Wear these. No one will know it’s you.”
Rose looks at the wig in Luisa’s hand, runs her fingers along the not entirely soft hair. “You want me to hide? At Pride? Where the entire point is to be who you are?”
Luisa sighs and looks away. She pulls her legs back into the car, turning away so that she can face the windshield. “I want you to be able to go if you want to, and I want you to not be afraid of being seen…of being seen with me. This is a compromise. Although,” and here Luisa turns back to Rose with a half-hearted grin, “if Dad does look through the pictures, he’ll wonder why I’m with someone in a mask and a wig instead of his wife.”
“So you’re saying these don’t actually help.”
“They help!” Luisa says, punching Rose’s shoulder. It doesn’t matter how light the jab is, she can still see the red imprint on Rose’s fair skin, a different shade than the freckles covering her arm. “I wouldn’t have bought them if I didn’t think they would help. I don’t waste money.”
“Your entire family wastes money, Luisa,” Rose says, but her voice finally sounds normal. She stares at the wig for another moment. “Fine. Fine.” She looks up at Luisa. “This is ridiculous, but I’ll…I’ll try. If it’s that important to you.”
“It’s that important.”
Rose sighs and looks up through her lashes at Luisa. “But if it doesn’t work, you’re the one who’s going to pay for it.”
“What are you going to do to me?” Luisa asks, waggling her eyebrows as Rose pulls her red hair up and puts the wig on.
“I haven’t decided yet.” Rose situates the wig with almost professional precision and puts the mask on after that, the strap holding the hair in place just as much as the top of the wig does. “How do I look?”
Luisa leans forward and kisses Rose much more properly than she had before. Her heart warms so much she can almost feel it glowing as Rose sighs against her lips. “Beautiful.” She grins and brushes some of the rainbow strands of hair out of Rose’s face. “Absolutely beautiful.”