Chapter Text
The scarf around Therese’s neck barely shielded the cold Manhattan wind as it whipped straight through her coat. She had been waiting on the corner of Frankenberg’s for almost thirty minutes now. When Carol rang yesterday she had said she’d pick her up at 11 and it was now 11:18, maybe she had forgotten? Of course their plans of meeting didn’t consume Carol’s every thought like they did Therese’s. Suddenly, Therese felt very conscious of her idling on the sidewalk waiting for Carol’s car to drive up. She felt conscious of standing in the streets of New York seemingly having no purpose and she felt conscious of the fact that the rapture surrounding her prior two meetings with Carol probably had a much more striking impact on her than it did on the other woman. “Flung out of space,” Carol had last said… what ever did she mean by that?
As Therese turned her back to shield the cold and thought of returning home, she heard the sound of an engine pull in near to the curb. The light honk turned her around and that’s when she saw her. Therese first noticed Carol’s orange and red patterned scarf that accented the siren red of her lips.
“I’m sorry, I’m awfully late!” Carol reached across and opened the passenger seat door for Therese to climb in. She didn’t offer an explanation, and Therese didn’t ask. She was just happy to step out of the cold and into a world that had Carol in it. Already she felt her blood warming.
“Not a problem, I just thought you might not be coming.”
“Well, here I am.”
Carol was dressed in her fur coat and had her grey leather gloves on despite the warmth radiating from the car’s compartment. Therese looked over and took notice of the way Carol set her hair, the tint of her eyeshadow, and the light hue of blush on her perfect cheekbones. Compared to her style, or lack thereof, Therese felt like a girl in the presence of a woman.
“Shall we drive out to the house?” Carol asked. She had already pulled out and was headed towards the Lincoln tunnel despite still asking Therese for confirmation.
“Yes, that sounds lovely,” was all Therese could manage.
Carol turned up the heat then reached down and pulled out a mug of coffee to hand to Therese. “To warm you, you’re shivering, darling.”
Therese accepted the thermos and tried to bring its lip to her own to take a sip. She struggled as her fingers shook. The casualty with which Carol had called her “darling” felt natural, compassionate, and yet equally run of the mill as if Carol used the term easily in all conversations. The hot coffee ran through her chest and for how cold she was just ten minutes ago, her whole being felt on fire now.
Riding through the tunnel and traveling onwards toward the Jersey turnpike, they did not speak much. Therese looked all around her outside noticing the melting snow on the ground, observed birds standing out amongst the white coated trees, and thought of the scenes she could capture with her lenses if she had more opportunity to venture outside the city. She felt Carol’s eyes occasionally land on her but Therese never dared return the glance. She knew that if she looked into Carol’s icy blue eyes, everything in her heart would be revealed then and there.
About twenty minutes later they turned into a spread out suburban community and Therese knew they must be getting close. Driving through those streets, Therese noticed the fine looking houses. She wondered where they would stop and which house would be the one that had the privilege of housing Carol. They pulled up to a white, two-story house with a semi-circular winding driveway. The house looked grand, fitting for a woman of Carol’s background. But also upon looking at the house and without knowing why, Therese felt that it looked like a home whose inhabitants didn’t find it a home at all.
“Home sweet home,” Carol said in a slightly sarcastic tone. “Let’s go in.”
Therese got out of the car. “You’ve a lovely home. It’s awfully nice of you to drive me out here, I really could have taken the train and have saved you the miles.”
“You certainly wouldn’t have had to wait as long in the cold if you had," Carol noted. "But wasn’t it all the more fun letting me warm you up?” With a playful smile, Carol didn’t wait for a response and led Therese in through the front door.
Upon entering, Therese had expected to see everything that was now before her. A wide, tall-ceiling living room to the left, a grand staircase to the right, and a stretching foyer that led to the kitchen maybe, and all the other rooms off its pathway. Therese noticed the tastefulness of the furniture that added personality and class to the spaces they occupied.
“Take off your coat. Aren’t you hungry?" Carol asked. "Let me make you breakfast, it’s almost noon.”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Therese had meant it to be polite but now Carol looked around the living room as if slightly disappointed, and now unsure what to offer next.
“Let’s go upstairs. We can look out on the yard from my favorite room.”
Therese followed Carol up the staircase and noticed the swaying of Carol’s hips as she transcended up the stairs before her. She wore a tight fitting long, blue skirt with a matching cardigan. Therese wondered if the way Carol moved her hips was natural, if it was part of an act, and if it was an act, was it for her? At the top of the staircase she noticed a portrait of a young girl, probably no older than five and thought this must be Carol’s daughter for who she had come into Frankenberg’s in order to purchase a doll.
“Your daughter looks quite like you,” Therese meant as a high compliment.
“You think?” Carol smiled looking at the portrait. “Rindy. She definitely has my square chin.”
“And your beautiful eyes.” Therese added.
Carol’s favorite room was overwhelmingly green. Green walls, green carpet, and even filled with green from the window that looked out on the perfectly manicured lawn and rows of trees beyond. Carol sat down on a chaise lounge in the corner and lit a cigarette. She brought it to her lips as Therese wandered near the grand window looking out on the property. Therese felt as if Carol was waiting for her to say something but Therese couldn’t bring herself to say anything at all.
“Would you like a coke?” Carol asked as she opened a panel in the wall. Therese hadn’t wanted the cold drink but she feared once more of being disagreeable. She took the bottle happily and sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed. Therese looked around for signs of Carol’s life behind doors, for a perfume bottle or photos of her, Rindy, a husband? There was still so much about Carol that Therese did not know and she grasped at any subtleties to learn more about the woman who was continuously filling her thoughts.
Carol noticed Therese looking around the pristine room, “This isn’t my bedroom. It’s just down the hall. But I like to come in here to be at peace. What would you like to do today? We could go outside, stay in…” her voice trailed off as she waited for a response.
“I’m content just being here with you.”
Carol smiled but looked away. She seemed far off, as if here in body but her mind seemed to travel. Preoccupied over something but what… Therese could not begin to guess. “Are you hungry now?” Therese asked.
Carol instantly came back and smiled, “Starving.”
They made their way down to the kitchen and Carol prepared chicken, cranberry sauce, some green olives and crisp celery. They ate on the porch off of the kitchen. Carol started the conversation, “Do you like your job?”
“It is quite educational. I learn to be a thief, a liar, and a poet all at once.”
Carol hadn’t expected such a response and chuckled slightly, “And how does one become a poet?” she asked.
“By feeling things too deeply, I presume.” It was a comment Therese believed in when she said it but also realized was a critique on herself and how she may have let her one-sided emotions carry her away in this whole situation.
“Well, you’re quite young,” Carol brushed it off. “Do you meet a lot of people this way?”
“Do you meet a lot of people this way?!” Therese wanted to respond back but didn’t. She pushed her plate aside, “No. You mean people like you?”
“How do you come, people like me?” Carol’s eyes lit up at the back and forth.
“I think you’re spectacular.”
Carol only tossed her head back slightly and laughed. She stood up to clear their plates. “I feel like going back inside.”
Therese followed Carol back into the kitchen and pressed the back of her hand to her cheek. She knew she must be blushing and gained some confidence at the way Carol’s eyes had flashed, obviously surprised whenever Therese deviated from her usual shy and reserved demeanor. After cleaning up in the kitchen, Therese walked over to a fine baby grand piano in Carol’s living room and tingled a few keys while Carol finished up. She leaned over the keys and wondered who in the household could play. Or maybe it was just a decorative object, seeing how together the rest of the ambiance in the house was.
“Play me something.” Carol’s request shook Therese out of her thoughts and she turned around to Carol standing closer to her than she had ever been before. One hand on her hip, the other fluffing her voluminous locks, Carol looked down at Therese with eyes enchanted to see what the young woman would do next.
“I— I haven’t played since I was in school, I’m sure it wouldn’t be any good.”
“I don’t care what you play, just play something.”
Therese sat down at the bench as Carol walked to a corner where there was a small end table with a cigarette case. As Carol lit her cigarette, Therese searched her mind for something she could play. She had enjoyed playing Mozart in school but thought a sonata was too lively and a fantasy too dramatic. It hit her what to play for this moment and her fingers descended on the keys. It was Beethoven’s “Pathétique” No. 8 in C minor, the second movement. Her piano teacher from school had always told the girls to invent a story for all of the songs they played. The point of the exercise was to add emotion, purpose, and connection to the piece. A story that didn’t tell itself in words but in a collection of notes and rhythms. This particular piece had four distinct sections, it started slow, reserved, a melodic melody that had a hint of sadness to it. The next part picked up slightly, still with a dramatic and solemn tone that finished on something that felt like a revelation. The third motion had tension and distress while it gained tempo culminating in conflict and resolution. And the final portion was the same melody from the first, only this time instead of eighth notes there were triplets, creating a faster, more urgent movement, and the song ended in triumph, closure, and peace.
The whole while playing Therese thought of Carol, thought of her and Carol. Would they become a triumph like the composition she was playing, would it end in hurt and despair, not peace? Or worse, would they not even have a start and end at all. The passion and conflict with which Therese played made Carol’s breath stop. When Therese played the final chord she looked up to see Carol still standing in the corner of the room, looking straight back at her. Her eyes appeared clouded, not from detachment but from overwhelming emotion.
Carol began to cross the room. Now Therese’s breath had stopped too as she came back down to reality. Her eyes followed Carol until Carol crossed behind her. Suddenly two hands grasped Thereses’s shoulders and her entire body froze. The fingers massaged her shoulders and Therese sank into the contact from Carol, who she was convinced was an angel straight from heaven.
“That was beautiful,” Carol remarked. “You made it seem like you could barely play a scale and now you’ve brought me close to tears.”
Therese turned around to look at Carol, “It’s an emotional piece, a lot of passion, uncertainty, and declarations.” She took one of Carol’s hands that had fallen to her side. Carol looked down at their hands and felt the warmth of Thereses’s palm like a spark. “Usually when I play, I have the precision of hitting the right keys but lack the depth to convey any real feeling," Therese said. "But toady while playing I thought of you.”