Chapter Twenty-Five

The house was dark. Leah dropped the flowers on the porch to fumble for her keys. She'd been there in the afternoon to shower, but that seemed like forever ago. The house seemed foreign. She glanced at Sophia as she put the key in the lock. "You don't have anywhere...to be?"

"I am. Where I want to be, I mean."

Leah felt a flush of heat. She pushed open the door and then knelt to gather roses. She led Sophia to the kitchen. Adam had thoughtfully set out a dozen vases and Big Gulp cups and bowls for flowers.

"This isn't going to be enough."

"Some of these are too big, anyway."

"Let's put them in my room," Leah said.

She settled what she could in several vases and put them on a TV tray. Sophia followed her carefully up the stairs.

Her bedroom seemed dusty with disuse, and too quiet. She opened a window. The sound of crickets and frogs got louder.

She smiled. "I don't know how I'll be able to sleep when I get back to the city."

Sophia said nothing, just put the bouquets on the dresser, leaving Leah to put vases on the windowsill and bedside table. The scent of flowers filled the room, mixing with the fresh night air. She went to the window and looked out at the quiet street. Sophia came up behind her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Help me out of my dress?" Leah asked.

"How did you get into it?"

"You don't want to know."

Sophia's hands slid up her back and found the first clasp. Leah leaned back. Sophia tsked, but helped slide the dress to the floor and, before Leah could turn around, unfastened her bra. Leah, naked, turned around.

Sophia smiled shyly and Leah drew her in for a lingering, sweet kiss. Leah's heart beat faster and she was feeling warm and languid. The fear and the urgency of their previous encounter hadn't returned. Opening night made her high; Sophia made her happy. Sophia nuzzled her lips and then her delicate tongue slipped into Leah's mouth. Leah sank against the windowsill, jostling roses.

Distantly, the front door slammed closed, and then Adam's voice called up, "Girls, I hope you're decent."

"Go away," Leah said.

"It's opening night," Adam shouted. "Get down here!"

"I bet he has presents."

"I have presents," Sophia said.

"You do?"

Sophia put her hand on Leah's bare breast.

"Oh," Leah said. She covered Sophia's hand and pressed. "He's not going to wait forever."

Sophia squeezed.

Leah reluctantly slipped away from Sophia and went to the dresser for sweats. She hesitated, wondering if they were at the sweats level of their relationship. Being naked was one thing, but... Sophia was kneeling on the floor, rummaging through the pack she'd brought. She pulled out satin pajamas. Leah put the sweats away and settled for a T-shirt and her most slimming jeans. She didn't bother with anything under them.

Sophia whistled at her.

"Oh, stop."

Sophia slapped her ass.

"Hey!"

They got changed and got downstairs as Adam began his third round of shouting. Ward sprawled on the couch in his tuxedo, tie loosened, limp hair sticking to his face. He smiled lazily.

The conductor and the assistant director and the costume and set designers were there. They all applauded when Leah made her entrance. She bowed graciously and rolled her eyes, and then settled onto a bar stool near the kitchen.

Adam poured champagne. He raised his glass. "To us. Whatever tomorrow's papers bring, this has been the greatest night of my life because of all of you. Thank you."

They drank and he poured for everyone again and opened a second bottle of champagne.

Leah glanced at Sophia and murmured, "This is going to be a long night."

Sophia tapped her glass to Leah's.

Adam began a second round of toasts, and then the conductor stood up, and then the designer. Leah barely listened, thinking instead of what she might say. Her stomach churned. Adam passed her the bottle of champagne, mostly empty, and she took it to the center of the room. There was Sophia, smiling supportively at her, with an enchanting light in her eyes. There was Ward, and Eric, and Daniel, and Adam.

Her friend Adam.

She lifted the bottle to Adam and said, "I know I should have my diva moment now, but all I can say is thank you." She crossed the room and kissed him. "Thank you."

He bowed.

She went around the room, to Ward first, to Sophia last, kissing each one on the cheek, hugging them, and saying, "Thank you." Then she went back to the center of the room, flung her head back to gaze at the ceiling, spread her arms wide, and hollered, "Thank you!"

Everyone whooped and applauded as she drank the last of the champagne straight from the bottle. Fizz ran down her chin.

Ward got a third bottle and uncorked it with flamboyant style, winking as the froth ran over his fingers. "Well, if she's not going to be a diva, I'll be that enough for the both of us." He droned on.

Leah returned to Sophia, who slipped her arm around Leah's waist and whispered, "Thank you for letting me be a part of this."

"Of course."

"Really. This is so... Look at you. Just a handful. It's so intimate. And you guys did something so amazing. All on your own, because you wanted to."

"People paid a lot of money so we could," Leah said. "But that's even more incredible. I know. I know." She kissed Sophia's cheek, and then nestled into her.

After toasts, Adam forbade them from talking any more about the show, promising that they could all look forward to tomorrow night at eight o'clock, when the senior citizens of Rosemont Circle and the paroles of Durham County Jail would be coming to see them, along with the usual ticket-holders. Then he turned to Eric, the assistant stage manager, and asked him about his cats.

Eric's expression lit up with joy. He took the center of the room and regaled them with a story of his wife's phone call to him, which made him glad to be in Durham and not in New York. "Your cat climbed the curtains today," he said, mimicking his wife's voice. "What will the neighbors think?" He shrugged. "She thinks since I'm in the South, I should buy a BB gun. I told her I was an artist, and she said, 'Christ, then buy a pink one.'"

They all talked well into the night, as the alcohol muted their exhaustion and it faded to tiredness, and when they felt they could sleep, people filed out into the night, brave in their intoxication. Adam offered peanuts and DVDs of Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals, but Leah smiled at Sophia, took her hand and said goodnight to everyone else.

Her clothes were off as soon as her bedroom door shut. The waiting had made the room fill with floral scents, heady and strong. Sophia shucked her pajamas, muttering about how satin tore. Leah pushed her down onto the bed, keeping Adam's words about the show at heart, deciding not to care about anything but the naked body underneath her. And how much she wanted Sophia. Already she ached.

She worked her hand down and found Sophia's center, wet and waiting for her searching fingers. Sophia cried out. She offered herself to Leah, spreading her legs. Leah's desire intensified. Her need was no longer relieved by squirming against Sophia's thigh. Her fingertips tingled. Her skin burned. She moved against Sophia's body, seeking closeness. Her hand was ineffectual to mute Sophia's needful whimpers, so she moved down between Sophia's legs and buried her face.

Sophia's hand on her head was bold and her pleading hoarse. This was not a night of exploration. This was need and energy and celebration that had turned to lust and Leah could only succumb. She licked at folds and crevices, tasting Sophia, seeking to be even closer. When Sophia writhed, her fingers tightening in just such a way that Leah knew her own desires were echoed, she stilled lips against Sophia, holding herself still until her jaw ached. When Sophia relented, Leah teased, sliding her tongue inside, lapping and stroking. She became addicted to Sophia's taste, Sophia's heat, Sophia's texture.

Leah refused to leave the intimacy of the moment. Sophia screamed, loud enough to shake the house, quaking enough to shake the bed, making it bang against the wall. Leah winced as Sophia bucked, hitting her teeth, and then Sophia clenched her thighs.

Leah experimentally flicked her tongue. Sophia yelped. Another shudder went through her. Leah smiled.

Sophia let out an exhausted giggle and loosened her grip. She tugged on Leah's hair. Leah crawled up to kneel over her. Sophia met Leah's gaze, and pulled on a strand of hair.

Leah grinned.

"I had plans," Sophia said.

"To put on a show for Ward and Adam?"

"To show you how much I appreciated...loved...seeing you tonight."

"I think that came across."

Sophia blushed. She pulled Leah down for a hug. Sophia's hands moved over her back, stroking, pressing. "Do you have any idea what I can do with my mouth?"

Leah remembered the talent in Sophia's fingers and shivered. Sophia scratched her spine.

"Did you go to Summer Stock for Sex or something?" Leah asked.

Sophia laughed. "My mom always said that something worth doing is worth doing right."

"I love your mother."

"Your mother is a little scary,"

"I know." Leah inhaled. "I'm going to tell her, tomorrow."

"About us?"

Leah shook her head. "That I'm gay."

Sophia rubbed her back.

Leah lifted her head and smiled. Sophia kissed her jaw. "Then you should be as gay as possible, tonight."

"Earn my shame?"

"Believe me," Sophia said, her voice becoming low and seductive, "You have nothing to be ashamed about."

"Let's keep trying," Leah said.

She kissed Sophia, who touched her cheek and stroked the curve of her ear. Leah was still sprawled on top of Sophia, content to marvel in the ways they pressed together, calmer than the last night's nervous explorations. She began to roll off to the side, still kissing, but Sophia stopped her.

Sophia tugged her lip between her teeth, released it, and asked, "How good are your knees?"

Arousal shot down Leah’s spine to pool between her legs. She managed to stammer, "They're fine? I mean, they're...fine."

"It's your night. I want you to feel powerful."

Leah had never felt more powerless, paralyzed and weak from lust, the saliva drying in her mouth as she gaped at Sophia. Sophia stuck out her tongue in an unmistakable signal.

Leah lunged forward, opening her mouth to Sophia's tongue, kissing her until desire overpowered hesitation and she sat up to straddle Sophia's abdomen. Sophia's nipples strained upward, tempted her. She touched one, experimentally tugging. Sophia arched underneath her.

"We have all night," Leah said.

Sophia nodded and closed her eyes.

Her responsiveness, the way she quivered when Leah ran her finger down between her breasts, meant that for Leah sex never been so enjoyable. She resolved to follow Sophia's footsteps along the path of pleasure. She bent her knees into the pillow that framed Sophia's head, and before she could ask, "Really?" Sophia grabbed her ass, yanking her into position.

"God," she said, as Sophia began to nuzzle her inner thigh.

"How loud can you scream?"

Leah clutched the headboard and, at the first touch of Sophia's agile tongue, screamed. She did feel powerful in that position, her hips rising instead of crushed and safe under Sophia as she'd felt last night. Her destiny lay in the strength of her leg muscles, in where she was willing to let Sophia's tongue travel. She pushed her face against the wall and panted.

Sophia's firm tongue stroked her quickly. Leah said, "Inside." Sophia shifted Leah's hips and the tongue flicked inside her, circling her, leaving her clit exposed. Leah dropped a hand between her legs and stroked herself, letting Sophia's tongue penetrate her, slip out and lap at her with soothing strokes before entering again. Leah groaned with every breath, her thighs shaking, hand moving rapidly. The climax came suddenly, sending her thudding against the wall, the wallpaper as textured against her cheek as Sophia's tongue. She screamed. All of her desire and lust and happiness had colluded for this shattering, white hot moment that took her apart and put her back together, shuddering and light-headed. She let Sophia see everything, even the vulnerability that followed like a wave.

She lifted her hips away from Sophia, trembling in the aftermath, afraid if she moved she'd fall off the bed.

Sophia's hands cupped her ass, and then Sophia moved to crouch behind her, wrapping strong, sturdy arms around her. Leah took a deep breath and let herself fall backward into Sophia's embrace.

Sophia kissed her neck, saying, "I have no idea how you keep that all contained on stage."

"I had no idea it was there."

Sophia twisted and brought them down into a sitting, snuggling position against the headboard.

Leah kissed Sophia and said, "Let's stay up all night and make love."

"Okay. As long as we can have champagne between kisses."

Leah squinted at her.

Sophia grinned." I'm thirsty."

Leah flung on her T-shirt and jeans, leaving them unbuttoned, and padded downstairs for champagne. She ran into no one, which meant that it took her a good five minutes to get the bottle open and another five minutes to find where Adam kept the right glasses. She skipped back upstairs to find Sophia still gloriously naked, spread out on her bed, waiting for her.

To stand in the door, drink champagne, and bring herself off again was tempting. But Sophia extended a hand to her. She went back to bed. Sophia drank champagne. Leah blew against the top of the bottle, smiling at the noise, and then set the bottle and her glass on the floor. She felt sticky and grubby and the bedsheets were the same, but there was no thought of cleansing. Not from this. Not yet.

Sophia dipped a finger in her glass and painted Leah's lips. The bubbles made them tingle. Leah licked away the champagne and Sophia kissed her. They kissed languidly, sitting against the pillows, chuckling between brushes of their lips. Sophia's hand settled on Leah's breast, squeezing through her T-shirt. Heat rose anew in Leah, and she asked, "Slower? Because I don't think I can go slower."

Giggling, Sophia kissed the corner of her mouth, and slid her hand under Leah's shirt to stroke. In retaliation, Leah reached between Sophia's legs. Sophia clamped her legs around Leah's hand and shook her head.

"No?"

"I'll come like a rocket."

Leah shifted to bring Sophia into her arms, sitting between her raised knees." I'm not sure I understand the metaphor."

Sophia elbowed her.

"Ow."

Sophia scoffed, and then snuggled back against Leah. "You feel really good."

"The shirt's 100% cotton." Leah ran her fingers up Sophia's thigh, and she dipped toward Sophia's center. Sophia exhaled and then swallowed audibly when Leah's hand settled over her.

"There?" Leah asked.

"There," Sophia whispered.

Wetness coated Leah's fingers. She explored further, fondling Sophia, sliding one finger between her folds and then retreating again to squeeze a thigh and leave slick fingerprints.

"We're going slow," Leah said.

Sophia drank champagne, settled into Leah's arms, and then tried different moans, gasps, and whimpers to coax Leah into breaking her word.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Leah woke to the scent of coffee. She rolled onto her back, and winced as sunlight penetrated her eyelids. Passion had finally given way to exhaustion, but probably not soon enough for the day ahead. She imagined her bedroom awash in white glow. She opened her eyes and so it was. Coffee. She sat up. If the reviews had been good, Adam would have come into her room, pounded on her until she woke up, and shoved the paper into her face.

A feeling of dread sank into her. She got up slowly, wincing at the twinge in her back. Thirty-four wasn't old for that much sex. She protested the universe, and was rewarded by seeing Sophia, sprawled on her stomach across the bed, beautiful with sunlight touching her back.

Leah glanced at the floor, prodded her jeans with a toe, and decided to shower. The room stank of sex. She assumed she did, too. The newspaper would still be there in ten minutes.

She went downstairs in a corduroy dress she couldn't remember why she packed. Adam sat in the kitchen drinking coffee in his satin bathrobe and Ward was making breakfast.

"This can't be good," she said.

"He's despondent," Ward said.

"Hardly," Adam said and pushed the newspaper toward her.

"Durham News-Star. Filthy rag. Hey, there's me!"

Her picture with Sophia, both beaming at Glick's camera, graced the first page of the art section, below the fold, next to the headline, "Poe's Raven Flies In, Takes Crap on Stage."

"He liked you," Adam said.

Leah scanned the article until she came to, "Leah Fisher (Virginia) proved why she's the ringer in this year's season after Elaine White's retirement. Her voice gave remarkable depth to the lyrics. Her acting, though earnest, wry, and bold, was a strong reminder that the playwright had given her a one-note part." She glanced at Adam.

"I'm sorry for not writing you a better part," he said.

She kept reading. "They liked the costumes. And the ending."

"What, the part where it says I deliver cliché well?"

"Well. Give the people what they want," Leah said.

"No, this is good." Adam snatched the paper from her. "I can learn from this. He's doing me a favor. Poe will be better when it opens again. Maybe we can even do some tweaking during our run." He took his coffee to the piano and began pounding at the keys.

Ward settled at the kitchen table beside her. "Cereal?"

"Thanks."

"How's your date?"

"Upstairs," Leah said.

"Naked?"

"Ward?"

He smiled.

"Drop dead," she said.

"They liked me," he said. "I already got a call from Florida about a part down there."

She'd skimmed the part about him and didn't feel a bit guilty.

Sophia came downstairs, also showered, wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans. She rubbed Leah's back and asked for aspirin. Ward smirked, but managed not to say anything while he got it for her, and let her drink it down with a V8 from the fridge.

"When is lunch with your parents?" Sophia asked.

"In an hour."

Sophia nodded. She glanced into the living room, where Adam played scales." That bad?"

"Like killing kittens."

Sophia cringed.

"What are your plans?" Leah asked. "Or, are you done with...Oh, God, are you done?"

"I have a meeting. I'll be in town tonight."

Leah nodded, swallowing. Sophia hugged her but didn't say anything about tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow. Leah tried to content herself with the idea of one last night. She inhaled and kissed Sophia's collarbone.

Ward sipped orange juice and smiled at them politely.

Leah swallowed down the nausea as she let her father drive the family to Thyme. She chattered on about the Macbeth cast party, about meeting the mayor, about the show. She thought if she just kept talking, the words would come out.

And they did, as soon as the car came to a stop in the parking space, before Harry could put the car in park.

"I'm gay," she said.

No one seemed to hear her. She'd barely heard herself, her pip-squeaking voice not overcoming the roaring in her ears. Harry put the car in park.

"Guys?" she asked.

Everyone turned around to look at her.

"I..."

Her bowels threatened her. Her stomach convulsed. If she didn't come out and say it, she'd have to puke in the bathroom as soon as they got inside the restaurant.

She closed her eyes, and then opened them, looking directly at her sister. "I'm gay."

Jessica raised her eyebrows.

"So, who wants to eat?" Harry asked.

They trundled into the restaurant, Jessica stealing glances at Leah, who looked down at the ground. There was relative silence, punctuated by her mother's cough and Jessica's solitary comment, "They really do have hushpuppies," until the drinks were ordered.

"Doesn't anyone have anything to say?" Leah asked. She had no desire to talk about it, but she still wasn't quite sure they'd actually heard her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jessica said. Leah glanced at her and was surprised that she was glaring, and her tone was accusatory.

"I..." Jessica's question was trumped by her mother's.

"Does this have anything to do with that girl we met last night?"

"Sophie?"

"The... ethnic one."

"Mom."

"Well, what do you want me to say? Lady Macbeth? I don't remember."

"She's from..." Leah tried to remember. They hadn't exactly discussed parentage all that much. "...Florida," she finally said.

"She doesn't look Cuban."

"I didn't say she was Cuban, Mom, I just said she's from Florida. Lots of people are from Florida. There are even Jews in Florida."

"There are certainly Jews in Florida," Harry said.

"At least there's a place where you two can live in harmony," Margaret said, scowling at her. "Plenty of freaks in Florida." She covered her mouth and said, "I didn't mean...Not freaks, dear. But, you're an actress. You know what I mean."

"Maybe I can be on CSI: Miami," Leah said, her voice rising.

"Lady Macbeth?" her father asked helpfully.

Leah put her forehead in her hand. Though she no longer felt like throwing up, she kind of wanted to kill someone. She said, "No. Yes. No."

Harry folded his arms and smiled.

"I was...gay...before Sophia."

"Why are you so happy?" Margaret asked Harry.

"Come on, it had to be one of them."

"Dad!" Jessica squeaked.

Leah bit her lip. The drinks arrived. She drank half of hers before turning to Jessica and saying, "I'm sorry."

Jessica didn't say anything, but her expression softened.

"Well, if we're going to talk about it," Margaret said huffily, "What about Adam, dear?"

The waiter came back. He looked to be about twelve, was covered in acne, and carried a pen and paper with shaking hands. "What will you have?" he asked.

"Our daughter is gay," Margaret said, gesturing at Leah.

The waiter got a wild, horrified look in his eyes, and said nothing, just breathed through his slightly-gaping mouth, as if he were praying Leah's mother wouldn't say anything more. Leah prayed with him.

"I'll have the fish and chips," Leah said.

Jessica snickered.

Leah kicked her under the table.

"Me too," Jessica said.

Margaret coughed. The waiter seemed afraid to look at her, but dutifully wrote down her salad, and looked at Harry.

"Fish and chips," Harry said.

Leah smiled.

"Harry," Margaret admonished.

Harry shrugged, and said, "We've got enough vinegar at the table."

Margaret sighed. She took a sip of her drink and asked, again, "Adam?"

"What about Adam?"

"Well, you two seemed close."

"We are close," Leah said.

"Don't tease her," Harry said.

Margaret frowned at him.

He asked, "Is Adam gay?"

"You'll have to take that up with him," Leah said.

Jessica snorted.

Harry blithely sipped at his drink.

Margaret sighed and said, "For years, darling, since you met that man at the piano or whatever..."

"He's not Billy Joel, Mom."

Margaret ignored her. She went on, "We saw the way you followed him around, and never had the heart to tell you that you simply had the wrong equipment. It's almost a relief to know that you...know."

"I know," Leah said. "I knew."

Harry slapped the table. All three women looked at him. Leah felt horror rise up in her chest. She swallowed, but ended up more whimpering. Harry asked, "It was that Grace woman, wasn't it?"

Leah raised her eyebrows.

"Well?"

"That horrible woman," Margaret said.

"Mom, she didn't turn me gay," Leah said.

"No, of course not, but would it have killed her to sit down to one family dinner? Just once? Not even for Thanksgiving. Honestly."

Harry shook his head

Leah considered running to the bathroom to sob, or melting through the floor, but the food arrived, so she settled for eating one French fry at a time.

"You were very good in the play, dear," Harry said.

"Musical, and thanks, Dad."

"You seemed very much in love with Edgar Allen Poe."

Leah nodded and ate another fry.

"You were a convincing heterosexual. That's good acting," he said.

Leah dropped her fry remnant into the basket, and sighed.

Jessica leaned over and whispered, "The universe is punishing you."

"For what?"

"Being gay?"

"Jessie, you know better than that," Margaret said.

"Why do you think the universe is punishing her?"

Margaret looked at Leah, her mouth open as if she were about to offer a whole list of suggestions. Then she closed her mouth, and shrugged.

"Maybe she missed a note or something," Harry said.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Any time, princess."

Jessica snickered.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 674