Chapter 2
Almost one hour drive into the skirt of the town, Sharon found the cafe Francesca had mentioned earlier. There was no specific prohibition on driving given by her ob-gyn yet Sharon still felt a pang of immense guilt. Lydia's request to stay in bed rang in her ear as she undid the seat belt and got out of the car. It was borderline stupid how so many irrational fears grew in her mind lately. Taking a few calming breaths while gazing at the not-too-crowded premise, her hand moved to her stomach. Everything will be fine. She said to herself. The drive was super slow and Francesca just need her help to sort out some stupid orchestra stuff.
She gave the parking lot a quick scan. Another irrational fear poked into her already-buzzing mind. Why did she feel like Lydia might pop out of nowhere? Why did this feel like stealing something? Thumb rubbing gently at the barely visible bump under her shirt, Sharon took a deep sigh before stepping forward.
“You're late.” At table five tucked in the corner, Francesca looked around nervously. Her hand fidget with the mug of seemingly lukewarm coffee. Her eyes were unfocused. “Lydia will finish her lunch with Andris soon.”
“Let's not waste our time then.” Sitting down and giving the coming waitress a quick order of whatever fruity non-alcoholic zero-caffeine drink they have, Sharon locked Francesca's gaze in. “What is it?”
“It's Lydia.”
Of course, it is. Sharon mumbled to herself impatiently.
“And Krista.”
No matter how much Sharon anticipated this. The name still felt like a sting in her heart. She knew Krista. There were a few pictures of her in the many archives of Lydia's Shipibo-Konibo work. Her name got mentioned by the maestro one too many times in the past too. Suddenly the fear within her grew ten folds, making Sharon feel extremely thirsty.
“Here you go, ma'am. Our signature sunset juice.” As if on cue, the waitress came with a pink and yellow drink in a tall glass with a tiny umbrella. It was a relief to sip the fresh juice, but when the taste of guava tailed the refreshing mango, Sharon nearly gagged. She hated guava.
“You need to know that-”
Sharon had to lift her hand to stop Francesca from speaking more. “Can I have some warm water, please?” She signaled the waitress again, rubbing her stomach under the table when the now-too-familiar churn rose inside. The water came almost a nanosecond too late. Sharon could taste bile trickling back down her throat when she drank. Covering her mouth with one hand, she held it in and focused back on Lydia's young assistant. “You were saying?”
“I think something is going on between the two.”
Sharon said nothing. She was completely aware of how keen Lydia was on working with younger musicians. She, of all people, knew how easy it was to adore the maestro. Albeit not the first pupils Lydia set extra-tab on, Sharon also know that Krista was a little special. She went eye to eye with the young conductor once. One fateful Friday when Petra had insisted on face-timing Lydia while she was in New York. Back then, Sharon had witnessed first-hand the admiration in the redhead's eyes and the way Lydia reciprocated it with her signature impish smile.
“Was going on.” Firmly, she corrected Francesca. A few weeks ago, she had been so grateful upon hearing the news of Krista's departure from the fellowship. At that time, Lydia simply worded it as a fallout with the Accordion and Sharon had been more than happy to find her spouse never brought out the name again. She really wanted to believe that whatever it was, it stayed in the past. It should stay in the past.
As a reply, Francesca shook her head even more firmly.
“Are you saying they are still together now?” Flirtation and favoritism she could get over with. Lydia was Lydia. It was the thought of Lydia having a real relationship with others that she couldn't stand. Not when they had Petra. Not when there was another on the way.
“No." Francesca gulped. "I meant I don't know. Even if it was ended, it was probably only on Lydia's end.”
Without actually realizing she was holding one, Sharon let out a relieved sigh. Whatever it was, Lydia had chosen to end it. That was good enough for her. “It's really not my business if some young girl holds feeling for Lydia, Francesca. It shouldn't be yours too.”
“The thing is, it's getting ugly. I think Lydia has gone overboard this time. You have to stop her.”
Sharon took another sip of her water, feeling disdained by the audacity. Francesca had it in her to call for a secret meeting and then told Sharon what to do with her longtime partner. Remarkable. They had rules, she and Lydia. They made a promise. Lydia knew her boundaries. Francesca, Krista, or any other girl could dance around Lydia all they want but she won't touch them. Not that way. “I think we're done here.”
“Please, Sharon. Something needs to be done before it's too late.”
“I know my partner.” Sharon couldn't help the sharp tone. “She's an adult completely capable of sorting her stuff out. She knows what's best for us. Her family.”
“But Krista is not.” There was a plea in those words. Fear in those eyes. “She can be desperate. She IS desperate. You can do whatever you want after, but please, listen to me first. Let me give you the whole picture.”
Sharon reached for her purse, throwing a bill on the table. Her head spun now and the churn in her stomach was getting awful.
“Please. This might hurt your family too.”
“Fine.” Sharon gazed at her wristwatch. Knowing Lydia and her punctuality, Francesca only had about fifteen minutes to explain everything. “Make it quick.”
“Hey, Dornröschen. Wake up. ” Under the dim light of Petra's room, Sharon could make out Lydia's worried gaze before she felt the gentle touch on her folded leg. “Let's get you to a much bigger bed.”
“She's having nightmares.” Sharon lied. Petra had been sleeping soundly since eight-thirty. It was she who could not sleep in their bedroom. Francesca's story had morphed into a living nightmare in her head, making her see and hear awful things. Her plan was to sleep in and avoid any contact with Lydia until tomorrow when her head gets clearer. Too bad Lydia didn't get the memo.
“I'll stay .” Lydia came closer now, trying to kiss Sharon's cheek but she leaned away. “You need a proper sleep.”
“I'm fine.”
“You don't look comfortable at all. Come on, don't hurt your back.”
“I said I'm fine.” The words came out as crusty as she had intended them to be. In the darkness, she could see that her partner was taken aback. In her heart, Sharon wished they were away from Petra so she could scream at Lydia. What were you thinking? How could you?
“Okay.” Lydia, much to Sharon's surprise and dismay, didn't push. “I'm sorry.” She simply stood up and got out of the bedroom, coming back shortly after with pillows and blankets in her hands. Without words, Lydia then tucked one pillow behind Sharon's just the way she like it lately. A gesture that, on any other day, would have mended Sharon's aching heart.
“Goodnight.” Carefully draping one blanket over Sharon's body, Lydia only added a ghost of touch to Sharon's lower belly before kissing the top of Petra's head. “Sweet dream.”
Sharon closed her eyes, knowing well that Lydia is making a makeshift bed on the floor now. In a moment they would all be tucked in the same room just like the days when Petra had first arrived into their life.
Sharon tried to fall asleep, trying not to think of it. The clock ticked away yet she kept coming back to these horrible images in her head. Nothing could ease her mind now. Not even Petra's touch when the little girl turned over and snuggled against her chest.
Oh, Lydia. What have you done to our family?
It started in Ucayali. Krista and I had always adored her but that night something was different.
Sharon blinked. She knew how much Lydia love being in the center stage. Holding the torch of power was Lydia's addiction. Watching people dance around her to catch a glimpse of that light gave the maestro a kick.
I mostly watched. I swear. I left when things get too heated.
Francesca's words echoed in her head so intrusively. The image of three bare-skinned women whirling together under the moonlight filled her mind.
I didn't know if they do it again later but they were definitely getting closer. If you noticed, Lydia started to make more trips to New york.
Of course, she had noticed it. Those had been particularly awful days when Petra would have consecutive nights of bad dreams and Sharon had had to deal with it alone.
There were days when they would hole in Lydia's hotel room. Practicing, they said. I wasn't allowed to tag along.
She just couldn't get rid of the image. Krista's red hair between Lydia's legs. A handful of Lydia's long locks in the girl's grasp. Their fair skin sticky and stuck together. Their lips locked. The invasive, inappropriate scenes ripped her heart while simultaneously making her stomach churn.
Then Krista wanted more. She probably thought it was love. She made demands. Lydia was Lydia. You know how she is.
No. Apparently, Sharon didn't know her partner that much.
Krista started coming unannounced, and even going as far as sneaking into Julliard classes. Lydia retaliated, starting to shun her from practices and events.
No. Lydia hadn't even mentioned such trouble once.
On our last trip to NY, Krista barged into the hotel room. I was there when she threatened to come find you. Lydia fumed. She screamed at her. I had never seen her so angry before. It was so scary I left.
Then there was total radio silence for weeks until these e-mails arrived.
Sharon screwed her eyes shut. Reading the e-mails made her realize what the woman she married was capable of. A wave of dizziness hit her when she opened her eyes again.
“Sharon...” She felt a touch on her shoulder. It was Wolfgang, the second violinist. Across the stage, Gosia stared curiously from behind the fingerboard of her cello.
Then it hit her. They were in practice. She had been zoning out. Her violin was still tucked under her chin. The tips of her fingers were sore, probably because her anger had taken over her play.
“You are off, dear.” Wolfgang's smile was small as he glanced at the podium. “Maestro asked us to start again.”
Sharon looked up. Lydia's eyes were on her. Concern dominated her expression.
“Sorry.” She looked away from Lydia's questioning eyes. “Please, take over.” She nodded at Wolfgang while bending to tuck her violin into its case.
“Sharon...” Lidya's steps descending the podium echoed in the quiet hall.
“Sorry, guys. I think I need a breather. ” She gave her colleagues a sweeping glance and one awkward smile, completely aware that Lydia was standing by her side. She was not ready to look into those eyes yet, afraid that her emotion might burst into a verbal explosion that might embarrass them both. The touch of Lydia's hand on her shoulder felt like an electric burn though, and their eyes inadvertently met when she stood up. “Please continue without me, maestro.”
The last word was out icy and cold. So did the stare Sharon gave her spouse. Lydia, probably feeling the sting, retracted her hand. “Sharon, what's going on?”
Sharon said nothing, walking away.
Was Sharon hoping for Lydia to come after her? Of course, she did. Was she surprised when it was actually Francesca who fall in step with her in the corridor outside the hall? Not at all. Lydia was Lydia after all. Art always came first.
“You can tell maestro that I'm fine.” She walked faster. Going home was the best choice right now. Tomorrow she would decide if she will actually continue practicing or skip the performance altogether.
“Sharon. I'm so sorry.”
“No. You're not.” If anything, Sharon really wished Francesca hadn't told her this “truth” at all.
“I just thought maybe you can help. I know you can help. Krista has so much potential in her. And the thing that Lydia has done, it might bite back.”
“Please. You just want to save yourself.” Sharon didn't need to turn her head to register the shock on Francesca's face. “You don't want to be the one who got bitten back.”
“What? No. I care about them. I care about you and Petra too.”
“Don't you dare drag my daughter's name into this.” Stopping dead in her track, Sharon spun to face the young assistant. “I know what you're doing.”
“What?”
“It is not Krista's life or Lydia's career you are worrying about, isn't it?”
“Sharon..”
“It wasn't merely talent that got you, or Krista, or anyone else a spot in the fellowship. Girls like you flock around her, elbowing each other, begging for attention. Lydia's losing her career over this shenanigan means you will lose your chance too, am I right? Can you imagine being accused of offering yourself to the maestro?" Sharon knew her words hurt. She wanted to stop but there was this pain in her that want to see everyone else burn as much. " I can't, but I know what it will do to your career."
“I was definitely not offering myself that night in Ucayali.” There was suddenly fire in Francesca's eyes, bitterness in her tone. “Yes, I admire Lydia. Yes, sometimes I wonder what it's like to be you, having the maestro's affection all to yourself. But no, not once had I ever thought of throwing myself onto her lap. I was there to learn, Sharon. I was too scared to say no to her every whim. I still am.”
Silent was poured over them for a moment before Francesca looked away. “Do you think I want to be in this position, stuck between Lydia's ego and Krista's madness? Is it wrong to try and prevent my life from being mere collateral damage?”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Sharon could feel both her heart and her head pounding. This happened so many times before, didn't it? The stuff that social media and the news had often warned about. The system. The bullies. She was now part of the people that blamed the victim instead of trying to uncover the truth.
“I told you that night was different.” Francesca slowly turned her focus back on Sharon. “Maybe it was something I drink. Maybe it was the maestro. Maybe it was the fear of losing this precious chance of working with the orchestra of my dream. Either way, I am so sorry. I am helpless now. Please save me. Save us.”
“Just...” Sharon took a deep breath, pressing her palm against the wall for leverage. She wanted to apologize but still couldn't believe it all. She wanted to scream but there was no strength left in her body.
“Are you okay?” Hand hovered over Sharon's shoulder, Francesca now looked guilty as hell. “Is it your heart again? Do you need your medication?”
“I'm fine.” A few more deep breaths and Sharon could feel the ground again. “I'm just having too much on my plate right now.”
“I'm so sorry, Sharon. I just couldn't turn to anyone else.”
“No. You have the right to share your story.” Sharon shook her head after long contemplation. She was lucky that Francesca told her first. Lydia was lucky.
“I know you would understand.”
“This doesn't mean I fully trust you. I will look deeper into this and see what I can do. Just give me some time.”
“Yes. Of course. I'm sorry.” The girl took a relieved deep breath. “Are you really okay? Should I drive you home?”
“No.” Sharon straightened up. “Just promise me you'll never tell anyone else.”