Chapter Twenty-Three 7 page

Sophia laughed.

Leah rolled her head toward Sophia and opened her eyes. "I had no idea. I was too busy noticing you to see anything else."

Sophia settled back against the window.

"Regional fling? Anyone I want?" Leah asked.

Sophia nodded.

Leah brushed Sophia's hair, sliding her fingers along the curls, scooting closer. "Even you?"

Sophia's blush deepened. Her chest was as flushed as her face.

Leah fingered the strap of her dress. "I love this dress."

"Why do you think I wore it?"

"For me?"

Sophia lifted her foot and rubbed it against Leah's calf. "Yeah."

Leah knelt and braced her hands on either side of Sophia, against the car door, and kissed her. Sophia kissed her back, nipping at her lips. Leah leaned her weight to one side, and slid her free hand over Sophia's shoulder, across the top of her chest, and lower. Sophia murmured encouragement as Leah fingered the top edge of her dress.

She pulled her mouth away from Sophia's to kiss her neck and then her shoulder. Her arm gave way. She toppled sideways, sticking out a foot to brace herself against the floor of the car. Sophia laughed and grabbed her, hauling her back up, and twisting around. They sat side by side. Leah wrapped her weakened arm around Sophia.

"Hey," Leah said. "We really did fog up the windows."

Sophia drew a heart in the window, and then leaned into Leah. "I'm so tired," she said.

"Me, too."

Sophia laughed. She covered her face with both hands.

Leah kissed her hair.

Sophia inhaled sharply.

"Let me get you something caffeinated, and we'll go home."

Sophia patted her thigh, and asked, "Are you sure you can go alone?"

"I'm brave," Leah said.

"Diet, then. Anything."

Leah touched a kiss to her lips, and then got out of the car. Outside, the air was cool against her flushed skin. She shivered.

She came back with soda to see Sophia had moved to the driver's seat, and was smiling at her approach. Waiting for her. She got in the car, and handed a soda to Sophia.

"Two more hours," Sophia said. "What can keep us awake for two more hours?"

"Showtunes."

"You start."

Leah closed her eyes, rested against the headrest, and sang.

Chapter Eighteen

"Wake up," Sophia said.

Leah opened her eyes. "I wasn't asleep," she said but her hoarse, sleep-filled voice betrayed her. She licked her lips. "I was dreaming of..." How to describe the odd figures dancing through her mind. British? Medieval? And yet, not...

"Spamalot, probably."

"God. Yes. Thank you." Leah rolled her head to the side. Sophia had turned off the ignition and unbuckled her seat belt. She reached over to Leah to unbuckle hers.

"Why was I dreaming of Spamalot?" Leah asked.

"I was playing it in the car."

"Were you singing along?"

"Yes. Did you dream of me?"

"No."

Sophia looked disappointed.

"You probably didn't want to be in that dream, anyway. I think David Hyde Pierce was naked. Wait."

"Wait?"

Leah clambered out of the car, nearly strangling herself in the seat belt even though Sophia had unclicked it. She walked around the car and opened the door for Sophia.

"Thanks," Sophia said, as Leah pulled her up.

"Purely self-interest," Leah said. She wrapped her arms around Sophia and pushed her face into Sophia's neck.

Sophia hugged her waist, and said, "Oh." They stood together under the parking lot lights until Leah began to sway, and her eyes drifted shut.

Sophia squeezed her harder.

Leah lifted her head and said, "Maybe I should..."

"Come in."

"Yes." Leah felt her face grow warm. This hesitation, this unknowing what was beyond the next kiss, or the next week, fueled by exhaustion, made her uncertain of where to touch Sophia, and what to expect. She asked, "What time is it?"

"Three in the morning."

"You seem perky."

"That's because your eyes are almost closed," Sophia said.

Leah dropped her arm to Sophia's waist and guided her to the entrance.

Sophia let her into the same room she'd seen before. There were more clothes hanging in the closet, and draped on the dresser, and the suitcase had been put away in favor of piles of clothes, papers, and various lotions on the second bed.

"I wasn't expecting company," Sophia said.

"Really?"

"Okay, I just didn't have time. Are you going to leave because there's crap on the floor?"

"No," Leah said. She went to the bed and sat on it. "But... I didn't bring anything to wear."

Sophia yawned, and then covered her mouth, and blushed.

"I mean, to bed."

Sophia looked her over. Leah blushed under the scrutiny, and found it arousing when Sophia's gaze lingered on her lower regions.

"I'll lend you a shirt," Sophia said.

"Will it fit?"

"Everything I have will fit," Sophia said. She gave Leah a wry grin.

Leah pulled off her shirt and draped it over a chair. She waited for Sophia to toss her a T shirt that said Michigan Summer Stock before turning away and putting the shirt around her neck. She unhooked her bra and then tossed it in the general direction of the chair, and then put the shirt on. When she turned around, Sophia had disappeared into the bathroom. The water ran.

The air conditioner was on. Leah pulled down the blankets on the bed. She couldn't remember how Sophia liked them. Comforter off? On top of sheets or under? She asked, "What do I do with the comforter?"

"The what?"

"The big blanket on top."

"Floor," Sophia called.

Leah shucked off her pants, folded them over her shirt, and then slipped into the bed, under the sheet. She asked, "Right side or left?"

"I really don't care," Sophia said. She came back into the room, wearing a silk robe over what actually looked like lingerie.

Leah rubbed her eyes. No, just a nightgown, which stopped mid-thigh. She tilted her head and looked questioningly at Sophia.

"I like to be comfortable," Sophia said.

"Really."

"You should try it. I feel rich beyond measure."

Sophia hadn't taken a step toward the bed. She looked at Leah, in her shirt, under her sheets.

"Come to bed," Leah said.

Sophia shook her head.

"I'm not going to attack you," Leah said.

Sophia smiled. "I know that. It's just..."

Leah pulled the sheets up to her chin.

"You look kind of ravishing," Sophia finished. She settled onto the side of the bed. "Um, what time do you need to be up?"

"I don't know what day it is."

"Friday...well, Saturday."

"I have rehearsal at eleven. Adam's a sadist."

"He's brilliant."

"He's a brilliant sadist," Leah said. Her eyes drifted closed. The lights went out. The mattress shifted, and a weight settled onto her stomach. She groped for it and found Sophia's hand. She was beginning to anticipate Sophia's touch, to be turned on by the slightest brush of skin. Need tried to wake her up. She opened her eyes.

Sophia was lying on her side, facing Leah, and she seemed already almost asleep.

"Night, Sophie," Leah said.

Sophia's lips worked, but she didn't say anything.

"You have a cute nose," Leah said.

Sophia's nose wrinkled.

Leah grinned, and closed her eyes, and held Sophia's hand.

Chapter Nineteen

The alarm went off. Leah screamed, jolted awake by the sound. Sophia rolled over and smacked the clock, and the blaring sound silenced.

"What time is it?" Leah asked, panting.

"Nine," Sophia said.

"I've got to get home," Leah said.

Sophia nodded sleepily. She snuggled into her pillow.

Leah had a raging headache, but she hoped the adrenaline from being scared awake would get her back to the house where she could shower. Six hours of sleep wasn't that bad.

"Sophie," she called.

Sophia rolled onto her back. Her eyes were still closed.

Leah knelt over her on the bed." I don't know when we'll get to see each other again."

"At work?" Sophia asked.

"I meant, for like a date."

Sophia smiled. Leah leaned down and kissed her. Sophia kept her lips closed, still smiling, and when they parted and Leah drew back, Sophia said, "Come back tonight, then."

"After your show?"

Sophia took Leah's hand and brought it to her breast, and pressed it there, against the silk. Leah kissed Sophia again, and this time Sophia tilted her chin back and offered herself to Leah, her tongue flicking against Leah's. Leah sighed against her kiss.

The snooze alarm went off.

Leah yelped. She turned off the alarm and climbed out of bed, and said, "I'm going, I'm going."

Sophia stretched. Leah made the mistake of looking back when she got to the hotel door, to see Sophia lying in bed, barely covered by the sheer gown, smiling invitingly at Leah. Her hair splayed across the pillow and her bare legs had worked out from under the sheets.

Leah's cell phone buzzed. She waved to Sophia and went out into the hallway and closed the door. She sagged against the wall. The phone was insistent.

"Where are you?" Adam asked when she flipped it open.

"Sophie's," Leah said.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Are you coming to work?" Adam asked. He sounded pissy, and Leah tried not to giggle at him. Giddiness was cruel to the non-giddy first thing in the morning.

"Absolutely," she said.

"Okay."

"See you in ten minutes at the house?" Leah asked.

"I'll make pancakes."

"I love you."

"How nice."

"Again," Adam said. The piano started. The artificial wind blew.

Leah began to sing, "Yearning heart I did inherit..."

"I'm hungry," Ward said.

The stage hands, in the wings with the fan where Adam couldn't see them, snickered. Leah smiled at them. They waved. One mimed eating a hamburger.

"It's a penultimate dress rehearsal," Adam said. "Get it?"

"And I have to pee," Ward said.

Adam sighed. "Take ten, then."

Ward bounded into the wings. Leah went to follow.

"Not you, Leah. Once again, from the top."

The piano started. Leah looked at the back of the room, at the white light shining right into her eyes, a distant sun burning, and sang, "Yearning heart I did inherit the withering portion..."

"Stop," Adam said.

Leah's mouth closed. The piano stopped. The violin player tapped his bow against the sheet music.

Adam leaned on the front of the stage, and put his chin on his hands, propped up by his elbows.

"Was I not yearning enough?" Leah asked.

"You're yearning for the wrong thing. Where's the despair of wanting the unattainable? Where's the Goth?"

"You said the Goth would be cliché for Poe, Adam."

"That doesn't mean go Disney."

Leah sighed. Without the artificial wind the costume made her sweat. She wiped her brow. "I'm doing the best I can," she said, and it sounded like whining, even to her ears.

"You're not focused."

"You mean my life isn't all about your musical?"

"It should be," Adam said. "We open in three days."

"I'll be ready."

"You should be ready now."

Leah's thoughts were far away, on Sophia, even as she looked at Adam. It was like he could see Sophia reflected in her irises, because he added, "I didn't bring you down here to have some torrid affair."

"No? Like the one you and Ward are having?"

"That's different. I don't pine for him."

She laughed, loud and bitter, and hoped the stage hands weren't listening. "I'm not pining," she said.

"She's all you've thought about all day, and damnit, Leah, I need you to think about the show."

"Adam..."

"I fought for you. I could have brought anyone down."

Every word hurt. She walked away from him and began to pace the stage.

"If you're not going to sleep with her, get over her," Adam said.

"How do you know I haven't...?"

"You're not exactly euphoric. You're not thinking straight, and you're not acting, and..." Adam banged the stage. "...I need a break. If we fail, it's all on you, Leah. This was your big chance."

She stopped walking and stared at him. He went up the aisle, to the back of the auditorium. He slammed the door.

Ward came back from the wings with a Coke. He popped the top. "Directors," he said.

She closed her eyes.

"Is he like that in New York, too?" Ward asked.

"This is his first big musical. His break. He finally found the backers. El dinero."

"Hm," Ward said.

"But yes. He's always like this."

Ward nudged her. She opened her eyes. He offered her the Coke.

"Thanks," she said.

"He's right, though. You've got to fall in love with me."

"I can pretend," she said.

"Acting isn't pretending."

She took a sip of Coke.

"I don't mind that you're not in love with me," he said.

She nodded.

"You should still let everything show. Come on. Let it hang out." His drawl was more pronounced, for effect, and he slouched dramatically.

"Are you saying I'm holding back?"

"You are."

"Maybe I just can't do it. I haven't hit those notes in a week," Leah said.

"Did you really come down to North Carolina to get laid?"

"No."

"To reinvent yourself?"

"What are you, a shrink?"

"To escape?" he asked.

"All of the fucking above."

"And Adam Grenald wrote it all down for you. All you have to do is follow along. It's right there. All of your personal crap, adapted for the stage by Eddie fucking Poe."

"Oh, come on. Not just that."

"Yeah. Follow along, and feel. I know you feel something."

"So look at you and think of someone else?"

"If that's even possible, darling," Ward said.

Chapter Twenty

In the weeks they'd been rehearsing she'd gotten used to Ward. He was insufferable and demeaning and petty, but he was predictable and she knew his habits. She'd acclimated to his presence. And he to hers. He didn't do the things that made her cringe, unless directed to by Adam, and he listened to her incessant chatter about New York parties and annoying parents.

He talked mostly about acting, and sometimes about music, and though she felt she'd kill him if he mentioned Stella Adler or the outdoor amphitheaters of the Appalachians one more time, she probably wouldn't know how to act once she got back to New York and he wasn't rambling on beside her.

And Adam could direct him, could make him change and mold himself. Harder, softer, shorter, three seconds more, put his hand an inch above Leah's elbow...no, two inches. Leah had told Ward he'd be a great television actor one day, where everything had to be perfect, instead of fluid.

Adam came back from break. His eyes were glassy and swollen, and he walked with more energy than he'd had before he left, leaning on the stage and attacking Leah with words.

She had tried, in her younger years, to make her blood burn like fire through her body, to scream her commercials and belt her songs, until her throat dried up and she'd lost weight and she felt outside herself.

Ward was right; no pretending.

Adam said, "All right. We're going to go through the entire thing. No stopping, no starting. Full band. Full voices...goat your notes, Leah, if you want, but don't fucking cut them off. Ward, use your whole body."

Leah didn't quite make eye contact with Adam. She looked at Ward, instead, as he went through his breathing exercises. His face loosened, his expression became more vulnerable. He dampened his lips.

"After that, fried chicken," Adam said.

"Finger-licking good," Ward said.

Leah was scandalized.

Ward sighed. "Yankees."

"Overture!" Adam shouted.

The conductor raised his hands.

Leah knew where to stand, where to walk, when to sing. She focused on Ward with her heart and her mind and let her body's autopilot take over. She missed a few cues, and stepped on Ward's lines, and forgot one, but no one interrupted her, or corrected her, or cajoled her. The music led her into scenes, and she sang, how she sang, looking at the conductor or with her eyes closed and Ward's arms around her waist. The microphone crackled, but no one stopped her from speaking. Adam just wrote a note on his pad. The fourth song's backdrop didn't fall, so they sang without it.

She was so relieved to sing the last song that her legs stopped hurting and her throat stopped hurting. Euphoria filled her. Ward sang his last song to her while she stood in the wings, meeting his eyes. She cried.

Ward had to turn away, because he was losing his voice to emotion.

"Brava," Adam said, after they'd finished curtain call. "If you do it with that much passion on opening night, no one will notice that it stinks."

"Fabulous," Ward said.

"Let's eat," Adam said.

After dinner there were stage manager notes. Adam was a cruel master. Leah knew it would only get worse as the hours ticked by toward opening night, but she was feeling as eager, if not as strained, as Adam. Sleep would be in short supply.

Tomorrow was the final dress rehearsal. The press would be there with their cameras and their notebooks, and there'd be an audience. Leah would miss the empty chairs, and the sensation of being alone, which added to the sorrow of the music. She walked back to the house with Ward at ten, leaving Adam to his manic re-writing of the score.

"Want a soda?" Ward asked.

"I'm just taking a shower and going back out."

"Where?"

"To see Sophie."

"The girl from the opera?"

"Yes." Leah rubbed her forehead. "The girl from the opera."

Ward nodded. "I'm going to drink Coke and eat chips and watch basketball."

"It's summer."

"I've got DVDs."

Leah raised her eyebrows.

Ward shrugged and went into the kitchen.

Leah showered and packed a bag and then spent ten minutes deciding on makeup or au natural. She finally settled for lip gloss, and then spent another twenty minutes trying to find something to wear. She called for Ward.

"Bless your heart," he said. "Asking a man to dress you."

"Shut up."

He opened her underwear drawer, tossed her something satin and bikini-cut that he didn't look at too closely, and then jeans and a polo shirt.

"I look like a gigolo," she said.

"Well, if you were a man, you'd look preppy casual."

She sighed. "Shoes?"

"Sandals."

"Sandals?"

"You're just going to kick them off, aren't you?"

"Good point."

He smirked and went back to watching basketball. As she passed the living room, where he was sprawled on the couch, under a homemade afghan, the sight was so appealing that she wanted to stay. The thought of going to Sophia's, having the talk, or not having the talk, or finding that she'd really prefer to sleep alone, or that the show had gone badly and she didn't want to see Leah at all, or that the show had gone so well Leah had no place in it, scared her so much that she opened her mouth and said, "I could stay. If you're..."

The look Ward gave her was so piercing and disdainful, she fled. She was halfway up the block before her humiliation eased enough to guess that he'd done that just to get her out of the house. She put him out of her mind.

Sophia was home and there were candles in her hotel room. They were lit and the second bed had been tidied of clothes and papers.

"You..." Leah started, but Sophia cut her off by saying, "You came," and hugging her tightly.

Leah dropped the bag and held Sophia close. "Ward suggested I'd be safer if I slept elsewhere."

"Is he going to put toothpaste in your shampoo?"

Leah drew back and frowned at Sophia. "Are you?"

Sophia grinned. She backed away from Leah and went into the room.

Leah closed the door and then followed Sophia. "How was the show?"

A shadow crossed Sophia's face. "I don't want to talk about the show."

"Okay. How'd you do all this?" She gestured to the room.

"Oh, in the hour between waking up and going to work," Sophia said.

"You're already a star," Leah said. "Now you just need New York." She put her hand on Sophia's neck, intending to pull her closer for a kiss.

Sophia smiled and moved away. She sat on the edge of the bed, and asked Leah, "What are we doing?"

"Do you mean, are we..."

Leah felt awkward and out of place in the room, in the candlelight and Sophia looking sweet and erotic. Her knees went weak. She sat on the opposite bed, and finished her sentence, trying to be an adult, with Adam's condemnation in the back of her mind. "Are we going to have sex?" She wanted to touch Sophia so much she ached, and ached even more that she couldn't.

Sophia nodded.

"I really, really want to," Leah said.

Sophia looked at the clock, seemingly for something to look at, and then her gaze flickered back to Leah's. "But?"

"No buts," Leah said. She reached across the space and put her hand on Sophia's knee. The gesture was so bold she wanted to pull her hand back immediately, but she didn't, lingering instead, watching Sophia's face.

"We close tomorrow," Sophia said.

"Is that a but?"

"No," Sophia said. She shook her head. "No, it's just..." She looked away again, and didn't look back. She hadn't reacted to Leah's hand.

Leah tried to guess the ailment; bad show, bad day, an attraction to someone new, a realization that Sophia was straight and wanted children, wanted Ward, or just didn't want a one-night stand.

Or maybe she did, and Leah was looking at her wrong.

Leah gave up guessing, and moved to Sophia's bed, and put her arms around her. Sophia sank back into her embrace. Leah forgot her list of insecurities as she kissed Sophia's hair. Sophia exhaled, a sound of release, and became limp in Leah's arms. Leah kissed Sophia's head, just above her ear, and decided, "Sometimes it's nice just to be," and said it out loud, sliding her hands down Sophia's arms.

Sophia turned in her arms, putting her hand on Leah's side. Leah shuddered as Sophia's hand dragged across her. Her stomach fluttered. Her skin flushed. Sophia smiled shyly at her and said, "Be in the moment?"

"Yeah," Leah said. She kissed Sophia, and it was Sophia who continued the pressure against her mouth, as Leah fell back onto the bed. Sophia kept their mouths together, slack and warm. She stroked Leah's waist. Leah raised her knee between Sophia's legs, to trap her, and the resulting sigh against her lips, seeming to come from Sophia's whole body. Need surged through her, demanding more, and she worked her hands down Sophia's back as they kissed. Sophia laughed against her mouth, and pulled back to smile down at Leah.

"I guess we are," Sophia said.

Leah lifted her head to kiss Sophia, but Sophia leaned back further, and waited until Leah put her head back down, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. Leah wrinkled her nose. Sophia kissed each eyebrow. Leah worked her hands under the hem of Sophia's shirt.

Sophia arched when Leah touched her bare stomach. She kissed Leah's mouth, offering her tongue, rubbing herself across Leah's hands. Leah sucked on her tongue, and closed her eyes to the kiss, giving into the sensation of Sophia's skin, the weight of Sophia's breasts against hers, the way Sophia was starting to grind her hips against Leah's thigh.

Somewhere close by, a tinny, mechanical version of "Monday, Monday" began to play.

Sophia groaned.

Leah pulled her into a hug, to keep her on the bed, but Sophia said, "That's my brother. I told him to call. I just hoped it would be earlier." Leah let go, going completely slack, flinging her arms to the side. Sophia climbed off of her, brushing her abdomen in the process, and got the phone.

"Don't go anywhere," she mouthed to Leah, and then opened the phone. "Hello?"

At the sound of the voice on the other end, Sophia's expression became delight. "Hi," she said.

Leah moved up to the headboard and propped herself against the pillows. Sophia sat down next to her, listening to the voice on the other end of the phone. Leah could hear low, male tones, but they were just making a staccato, buzzing sound. She settled her hand on Sophia's thigh.

The male voice offered a laugh, loud enough for Leah to hear and then stopped. Sophia started talking. Leah tried to tune her out, to offer a wall of privacy in the inches between their heads, but Sophia's voice interested her. She rested her head on Sophia's shoulder, listening, as Sophia counseled her brother on love. Leah didn't know if the brother was older or younger; she tried to picture him from his voice, and ended up just picturing Donny Osmond.

Sophia became a different person as she talked to her brother. She was looser, funnier, softer, less demanding with the mess of his life than she was with her own monologues. She seemed completely unselfconscious, and Leah stayed as still as possible not to break the spell.

"Oh, Jackson," Sophia said, and a tear formed at the corner of her eye.

Leah kissed her cheek. Sophia smiled at her and then asked, "What? Yes." She squeezed Leah's hand, and Leah was glad to be there, not only to witness but to give what Sophia needed.

The conversation dragged on and Leah's eyes began to droop. Determined to stay awake, to make love to Sophia, when the arousal had already pooled between her legs, when Sophia's fingers were tracing circles on her thigh, she turned on the television, set it to mute, and watched a talk show. She tried to mimic the exaggerated faces she saw there in the host and the participants. She longed for a mirror. She longed to talk. She was rarely this long in a room with someone without talking. Her jaw worked. She added dialogue to the expressions.

Sophia covered the mouth of the phone and said, "I think they're talking in Spanish."

"It's on mute," Leah said.

Sophia furrowed her brow. She went back to the phone.

The talk show got boring. Leah channel-surfed before finding the news. She couldn't mimic fires or floods or stocks going up, but the graphics were pretty enough. She stared at them.

"Leah."

Sophia shook her. Leah looked over. Rarely had Sophia said her name. It sounded strange and exotic and beautiful coming from her lips.

"I'm off the phone," Sophia said.

"How's your brother?"

"Better. He just needed to talk to someone who understands that he isn't crazy."

"Takes one to know one?" Leah said.

Sophia smacked her side. Then she hopped off the bed and went into the bathroom. Leah frowned, turned off the television, and went to retrieve her bag. She'd brought sexy pajamas... the one pair of sexy pajamas she brought on every trip, just in case, and she changed into them quickly and put on Chap Stick and bounded back into bed. Her hair had dried haphazardly, and she considered lunging for the bag again, and her comb, but Sophia emerged, wearing a white T-shirt that said Evita on it, and boxer shorts that looked like they had belonged to a man at one time. Plaid. Leah looked at her legs, as Sophia came over and knelt on the bed and wrapped her arms around Leah.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 601