Chapter Text
The darkness reminded Dorothy of that time on the rooftop, when instead of the stars above, the city lights below her were calling her, the cold autumn wind pushing her towards the edge. She’d lost count of the times she got up there, in the middle of the loud Irish-Italian neighborhood, finally away from everything- her parents, the annoying Stanley, the pressure of high school and not knowing what to do with yourself and your life. If there ever was any hope, she was losing it. That weird one night stand with Stanley in his car, that she could barely remember, and now she was three weeks late and saw all her plans shatter in a thousand little pieces. Carefully, she stepped closer to the edge, looking over and down on the busy street. Her skirt was trembling in the breeze.
With a sigh, she let herself drop on the soft sand. She took a deep breath, and rested her head on her knees. Maybe she should’ve gone through with it all those years ago. It would have saved her a lot of suffering and embarrassment. What would sixteen year old Dorothy have to say about this mess? She’d always hoped one day she’d be proud of herself, she’d have accomplished something, but what did she have to show for? A crappy substitute teaching job, living with her mother, single and unhappy, and probably just about to be detested by her formerly best friend… Why did it always have to end like this with her? Blanche was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and of course her heart had to ruin it. Why couldn’t she be normal? Or be born like 70 years later, where she might’ve been considered normal.
Gently, tears started flowing down her cheeks. Now, she didn’t fight them. The stars and the sea would not judge her, they’d probably seen worse. The soft, regular rushing of the waves managed to calm her, and she stayed for what felt like forever, while the water was slowly receding.
The night was mild out here and everything had a soft feeling to it. Dorothy observed the stars above her, tracing constellations and formations that reminded her of the ancient Greek myths. She’d done that many nights out on the lanai, and it helped seeing the bigger picture. What was she really, and what did it matter if she fulfilled societal expectations, or succeeded in her love life at all? Maybe she should get back into poetry, didn’t the best art come from suffering artists? Dorothy shrugged, and started drawing circles in the sand with the tip of her finger. Everything was transient – the patterns in the sand, the night, she and every other person, even the planet.
There she was, sitting in the sand and philosophizing to herself, when the heard the rustling of steps behind her. She remained as she was, not even thinking for a second that it could have anything to do with her, until they stopped. Was there someone behind her? Was she maybe even in danger? Dorothy tried to remain calm. Who’d want to assault her? Still, she no longer felt at ease.
Suddenly the steps resumed, but instead of retreating, they were coming closer. Dorothy was ready to defend herself, but as she saw who appeared beside her, she let her guard drop for a second, only to draw up the emotional wall again.
“Dorothy, what’cha doin’ out here all by yourself?”
“What do you want, Blanche?”
The belle hesitated, but after a short internal dispute about her dress and the sand, she sat down beside her.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. It didn’t seem like you had a lot of fun tonight.”
“Not like you I sure didn’t,” Dorothy replied, looking straight at the ocean.
“Oh come on, you know what this does to the guys,” Blanche said, vaguely gesturing at her body.
“Then why aren’t you doing it with one of them?”
When there was radio silence, Dorothy regretted her choice of words for a second. But then again, wasn’t it the truth?
After a while, Blanche cleared her throat. “Because my best friend is behavin’ like an absolute weirdo tonight, and I thought somethin’ might be wrong, but apparently it’s just her usual stick-in-the-mutt depressive lifestyle.”
For the first time, Dorothy turned her head. The expression in Blanche’s gorgeous, moonlit face was hurt and hurtful at the same time.
“You don’t understand.”
“What do I not understand, Dorothy? How you look down upon me and still wish you were more like me?”
That stung. Dorothy softly shook her head. “No, that’s not it at all. If anything, I look up to you.”
“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.”
“I am not. You are my best friend, Blanche. You are clever and gorgeous and just overall amazing. And yes, I do wish I were more like you. Because I’ve never been able to live nearly as unapologetically as you. I always put other things, other people first, and I can’t help but keep doing it.”
“Is that why you stopped singin’ after one song? You were worried what they were thinkin’?”
Dorothy shrugged. She’d said so much already, she’d better keep her mouth shut.
“They were thinkin’ you’re pretty good. They were interested exactly because you did the unusual thing. If you hadn’t run away, who knows, you might’ve caught yourself a nice fish. Some of the gentlemen-“
“I don’t give a shit about these gentlemen,” Dorothy yelled, not caring if she was scaring off the seagulls. “That is precisely my problem, Blanche!”
“You don’t?”
“I am so sick of pretending I am something I’m not!” The tears and the rage were back, and pushed out the words she’d kept swallowed for so long. “I don’t want a guy, I don’t want any guy! I like women.” Hearing herself say it, Dorothy couldn’t hold back the tears and with trembling lips, said it again. “I’m gay.”
Blanche just sat there, frozen solid, while Dorothy sobbed.
“I’ve never told this to anyone in my life. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you. I hate it so much.”
Suddenly, she felt a small, warm hand on her shoulder.
“It’s no bother, honey,” Blanche said gently. “Don’t you worry about that. It’s just how you are.”
Overwhelmed by the relief of having this lifelong weight lifted off her heart, Dorothy let herself fall over into Blanche’s arms, who caught her and held her tight, as she let go of all her tears. She was beyond trying to stop them, and she didn’t stand a chance anyway.
When she finally started to calm down, she pushed away the regret of having opened up. It was probably better this way, for her and for everyone.
“And just for the record,” Blanche said, still holding her tight, “if you wanna know what they were thinkin’ of you singin’, well, actually they were blown away. I never knew, but when you sing, you light up the room, you do, you positively glow, you just-“
Dorothy had withdrawn from their embrace just far enough so she could see Blanche as she was pronouncing these magical words and to check that she wasn’t just hallucinating.
“You’re beautiful.”
Indescribable feelings hit Dorothy right in the gut, and she couldn’t believe her ears. She, beautiful? It had been years since anyone had called her this, and never had it been someone like Blanche, someone she loved so much, on a moonlit beach in a mild Miami autumn night.
Before she knew what she was doing, she kissed her. It wasn’t perfect, a little off to the right, soft and short, but it was bliss.
Blanche remained motionless for a second, then withdrew with a hand on Dorothy’s shoulder, giving her a most unusual coy smile.
“I see now why you chose that song.”
Dorothy nodded. “I wanted to take this damn thing to my grave, but… tonight I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry. We don’t ever have to talk about it again. I understand if you want to push me into the sea.”
“I don’t think that’s what I want to do at all,” Blanche said softly.
“I thought you’d be appalled. I’ve had my share of unrequited love, and it never ends well. You can kick me out, or do whatever you want. I screwed up and I don’t deserve-“
Blanche cut her off by pressing her lips to Dorothy’s, and this time it was precise. When it came to kissing, there was no match for Blanche Elizabeth Devereaux, and Dorothy surrendered to her skillful caress completely. Of all the outcomes her imaginative mind had speculated about, this here had not even occurred to her. She was kissing her. Blanche was actually kissing her. Softly parting her lips, gently holding her head, definitely making her forget everything else.
When they finally separated, it was like waking up from a dream. Dorothy gazed at her Southern Belle as if she were a vision.
“You – what – just –“
Blanche giggled. “Dorothy Zbornak rendered speechless, I never thought I’d see the day!”
After a moment, her expression got more serious. “I can guess what you’re thinkin’, and it’s really quite simple. I like you. A lot. I don’t care that you’re a woman. You’re my best friend, and you’re an amazin’ person. I would love to take things to the next level with us. We can figure out what we’ll do together.”
Dorothy was almost crying again, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yes. Oh God, yes.”
“Then shall we go home?”
Dorothy nodded. “It’s been a long night. Let’s go. I just hope I can find my shoes.”
Together, they got up and went back, picking up Dorothy’s discarded pumps on the way, laughing about the sand still falling from their clothes. The moon accompanied them like a proud matchmaker, as they made their way home in Blanche’s car, and to their new beginning. For once, Dorothy was glad she’d given in to Blanche, and she had a feeling she would give in many times more in the future.