Work Text:
Honey-Lou had the keys before Brooklyn finished asking who was driving. She came out of the hotel room in a pale green summer dress that had taken both her and Debbie to zip properly, not because it was too small but because Honey-Lou’s enormous tits required the bodice to be held in exactly the right place while the zipper went up. Debbie had done the holding, Brooklyn had checked the straps, and Honey-Lou had lifted both arms before either of them asked, watching their hands in the mirror while they settled the dress around her.
By the time Spencer stepped into the corridor, Debbie had already fastened her small pride pin beneath the collar of her blue top, Brooklyn had settled a dark red blouse over jeans that fitted tightly over the great round rise of her ass and Honey-Lou was halfway to the elevator. Spencer looked at the three of them and then down at his own shirt. “Am I dressed okay?” he asked. Honey-Lou pushed the elevator button and nodded.
“Oh, yeah. You look really cute. I like that shirt.” Brooklyn moved closer to her, peering at the reflection in the closed elevator doors. “Where are we going?” Honey-Lou’s lips pressed together. She had never been particularly good at looking secretive, and the effort made her look pleased instead. “Somewhere.” Brooklyn gave Debbie a look. Debbie adjusted the chain at her throat and did not help. Honey-Lou saw the look in the doors. “No. Debbie is not allowed to tell either.” Debbie’s hand went into Honey-Lou’s purse without asking, found the room key Honey-Lou had nearly left on the little table by the door, and slipped it into the outside pocket. Honey-Lou glanced down only long enough to see what she had done. “Thank you, baby.” Debbie nodded. The elevator arrived.
In the garage Honey-Lou guarded the folded tourist map with her forearm while Brooklyn leaned across the center console and tried to see it. There was no wrestling over it. Brooklyn only stared at the corner that remained visible, then at Honey-Lou, and Honey-Lou shook her head with a smile that made Brooklyn settle back in the passenger seat. “No map cheating,” she said. “It’s a surprise.” Brooklyn sighed and put one hand on Honey-Lou’s bare knee as soon as the engine started.
Debbie and Spencer took the back seat. Debbie had one of Honey-Lou’s spare hair ties around her wrist, a leftover from getting ready, and when Honey-Lou reached back blindly at the first red light Debbie slipped it into her fingers without being asked. Honey-Lou caught up a curl that kept falling into her face and tied it back badly. Brooklyn reached over at the next light and redid it. The rental car rolled out toward the street with Honey-Lou sitting very straight behind the wheel, both hands high and careful, her mouth still sealed against Brooklyn’s questions. Brooklyn tried once more after they had gone three blocks. “Is it the beach?” Honey-Lou shook her head.
“Food?” Honey-Lou considered that and said, “There can be food.” Brooklyn looked at Debbie again. Debbie was watching traffic through the side window. “You know.” Debbie turned her eyes toward Brooklyn. “I know Honey-Lou.” She went back to the window. Honey-Lou smiled at the road and said, “I am being very destinationary tonight.” Brooklyn squeezed her knee and leaned close enough to kiss Honey-Lou’s shoulder. “You’re so cute.” Honey-Lou’s smile widened at the windshield.
Honey-Lou put on one of the burned CDs she had brought from home, and the first guitar line made Brooklyn relax against the passenger door. Honey-Lou chose the first disc because she was driving. Brooklyn looked through the other two and set one on her lap for later. Halfway through the second song Debbie leaned forward between the seats and touched Honey-Lou’s shoulder twice; Honey-Lou turned the volume down before Debbie said anything. Spencer looked from Debbie’s hand to Honey-Lou’s, then back out the window. The traffic thickened. Brooklyn kept trying to read signs ahead of them, not with urgency now but with the happy concentration she brought to maps. Honey-Lou reached over and covered Brooklyn’s eyes with one hand at a long light. Brooklyn laughed and caught her wrist, then kissed the inside of it before putting Honey-Lou’s hand back on the steering wheel. “Baby, eyes on the road.”
Honey-Lou put both hands back on the wheel, still smiling. In the back Spencer asked Debbie about the old cutter at the print shop after she mentioned it first, and Debbie told him she remembered because he had come to Brooklyn’s apartment once with a bandage around his thumb. She remembered the shape of the bandage too, narrow and badly wrapped. He asked about her clinical placement. Debbie told him Mrs. Rios still wanted the blinds open before breakfast and Mr. Harlan still pretended not to reach his call button when the floor was quiet. Spencer listened while Debbie turned the bottle slowly between both hands. Once, when Honey-Lou changed lanes too late and muttered at herself, Debbie touched the back of her seat with two fingers. Honey-Lou found the lane without looking back.
Brooklyn knew the neighborhood before she knew the building. She stopped trying to guess and began looking instead. Men walked hand in hand under the palms. Two women stood near a restaurant entrance sharing a compact mirror, one holding the little powder case while the other fixed her lipstick. A group of young men in tight white shirts moved down the pavement in a bright knot, laughing with their arms around one another. Flags appeared over doors, then in windows, then hanging from a balcony in a row. Debbie leaned nearer the glass. Honey-Lou’s pleased little smile returned. She slowed at the next corner and turned into a lot half a block from a dark-fronted club whose blue sign read CURRENT. Brooklyn looked at the sign, then at Honey-Lou. For a second Honey-Lou only sat there with both hands still on the wheel. Then she looked over, cheeks pink from keeping the surprise so long. “I wanted somewhere gay-gay,” she said. “I thought you’d love it.” Brooklyn’s face opened. “Oh, baby. I do.” She reached across the console and kissed Honey-Lou, one hand sliding into the curls at the back of her head. The kiss was not brief, and Honey-Lou forgot to release the brake until Debbie leaned forward and tapped the handle with one finger. Honey-Lou looked down. “Oh.” She fixed it, then kissed Brooklyn again before getting out. Debbie stepped around the car and smoothed the shoulder of Honey-Lou’s dress where Brooklyn’s hand had rumpled it. Honey-Lou lifted her hair for her. Spencer locked the car and stood with the keys until Honey-Lou held out her palm. He gave them back. She tucked them into Brooklyn’s purse instead of her own, in the inside pocket where Brooklyn always kept the important things.
The line outside moved under a broad awning where fans pushed warm air down over bare shoulders and bright shirts. Honey-Lou stood between Brooklyn and Debbie, with Brooklyn’s hand resting low at the small of her back and Debbie close enough on the other side that their arms touched. Spencer stood beside Brooklyn until the line narrowed, then shifted behind them. When the doorman complimented Honey-Lou’s curls, she thanked him with a soft, pleased “Oh, thank you,” and touched one ringlet as if confirming it was still there. The first corridor inside was washed in blue light, narrow enough that the music seemed to come through the walls before the main room opened around them. Honey-Lou stopped. The dance floor was already packed. A long bar glowed green and amber along one wall, a mezzanine curved above the far side, and another doorway pulsed red with faster music. Brooklyn’s eyes moved everywhere at once.
Debbie took in the stairs, the tables, the bathrooms, the side door near the bar, and then looked back at Honey-Lou. Honey-Lou was staring at the lights over the dance floor. “Oh my God,” she said softly. “It’s so pretty.” Brooklyn slipped both arms around her from behind and rested her chin near Honey-Lou’s shoulder. “It is. And you look so pretty in here, baby.” Honey-Lou turned her face enough to kiss Brooklyn’s cheek. Honey-Lou reached back and found Debbie’s hand. Debbie let herself be drawn against them for a moment, shoulder to shoulder with Honey-Lou while Brooklyn held the other side. Spencer stood just behind the three women and watched them take the room in together. Honey-Lou finally turned, caught his hand too, and the four of them moved toward the bar.
Before the bartender reached them, Brooklyn took Honey-Lou by both shoulders and turned her gently toward the room again because a pair of women in matching silver tops had crossed the floor holding hands. Honey-Lou watched them go, then looked toward Debbie. Debbie was already watching a different couple near the stairs, two women old enough to have gray in their hair, dancing close and unhurried while younger people streamed around them. Honey-Lou reached across the narrow space and touched Debbie’s hand. Debbie turned her palm over and held on. Brooklyn kept one hand at Honey-Lou’s waist while she looked toward the dance floor. Spencer stood beside them, one hand around his water glass. Honey-Lou breathed out, smiled, and turned back to the bar when her name was called.
They ordered without alcohol. Honey-Lou asked three questions about a frozen passion-fruit drink because it had an orange slice in the picture, and when the bartender confirmed it could be made entirely without liquor she nodded at once. Brooklyn chose lime and soda with mint. Debbie took ginger ale over ice. Spencer looked at the taps, then asked for ginger ale too. Honey-Lou watched the bartender decorate her glass with a cherry and a slice of orange, both hands folded under her chin. “Oh, that’s so cute,” she said when it was set down. Brooklyn took the cherry before Honey-Lou could reach it, held it to Honey-Lou’s mouth, and waited while she bit it from the stem. Honey-Lou smiled around it.
Debbie already had Honey-Lou’s purse over one shoulder because the strap of the little bag kept slipping down Honey-Lou’s arm. She moved the four drinks toward a high table while Brooklyn checked where the coat hooks and table legs were. Spencer carried the water they had ordered on the side. Honey-Lou offered Debbie the first taste of her drink without asking whether she wanted it. Debbie took one pull through the straw, handed it back, and reached for her ginger ale. Honey-Lou knew from her face that it was too sweet and did not ask.
Brooklyn tried it next, made no expression at all, and drank her own. Spencer took Honey-Lou’s drink when she held it toward him. His eyebrows lifted after the first sip. Honey-Lou watched for the verdict, not anxiously, only interested. “Sweet,” he said. She nodded. “I know. I love it.” Then her shoulders shifted to the beat of the song coming from the main floor. Before she moved away, a woman in a white halter top stopped beside the table and told Honey-Lou her dress was gorgeous. Honey-Lou brightened immediately. “Thank you. Your top is so pretty too.” The woman’s eyes dropped to the dramatic fullness of the bodice and came back up with an appreciative smile. Honey-Lou smiled back, pleased rather than coy, and touched the neckline once to settle it.
The woman turned to Brooklyn and told her the jeans were perfect on her. Brooklyn looked down over one hip as if checking the evidence for herself, then smiled. “Thank you. I like my butt in these.” Honey-Lou put one hand warmly on the curve of it. “It looks gorgeous.” Debbie, standing between them and the table, reached behind Brooklyn to tug the blouse hem free where it had caught at the waistband. Brooklyn lifted one arm for her. A second woman joined the first, complimented Debbie’s pin, and Debbie thanked her softly. Honey-Lou put her hand over the pin for a second, careful not to disturb it, then let her fingers rest at Debbie’s shoulder. The women moved on toward the bar.
Brooklyn watched one of them go and said quietly, “Her top is so pretty.” Honey-Lou followed her eyes. “Yeah.” Debbie took another drink and looked too. Spencer stood close enough to hear them and far enough not to crowd the little line of women admiring women. Brooklyn’s hand found Honey-Lou’s hip again. Honey-Lou’s fingers were still resting lightly on Debbie’s shoulder when the next bass line rolled through the room.
Brooklyn saw the change before Spencer did. She put her glass down, held out one hand, and Honey-Lou took it immediately. Debbie reached for Honey-Lou’s purse as Honey-Lou slipped the strap from her shoulder, already knowing it was coming. Brooklyn took Honey-Lou onto the dance floor and turned to face her as soon as they found a clear patch. She planted her feet, caught the beat through her hips, and gave Honey-Lou both hands. Her jeans followed the wide, round shape of her ass closely enough that the movement of her hips was impossible to miss. Honey-Lou came into her arms with a little more care because the front of her body demanded room. She smiled up at Brooklyn and said, “You look so pretty when you dance.” Her tits filled the green dress so completely that a straight, chest-to-chest hold was never quite possible. Brooklyn angled herself automatically, one hand low on Honey-Lou’s waist while the other took her hand.
Honey-Lou’s free hand settled at Brooklyn’s shoulder. They moved without watching their feet. Brooklyn turned Honey-Lou once, caught her when the skirt swung wide, and pulled her back in. Honey-Lou laughed into Brooklyn’s cheek. Brooklyn’s face went soft with pleasure. She kissed Honey-Lou’s temple, then her mouth. When the lights crossed them, Debbie watched from the table with one elbow resting beside her drink. Spencer stood next to her. Debbie’s eyes stayed on Brooklyn and Honey-Lou for a few seconds, then she picked up her glass. “They’re happy,” she said. Spencer looked at them again and said, “Yeah.” Debbie drank.
Brooklyn came back hot and smiling at the end of the second song while Honey-Lou remained on the floor with two women who had folded her naturally into their loose circle. Brooklyn walked straight to Spencer, took his wrist, and led him away from the table. Debbie caught his glass before his sleeve knocked it over and moved it farther in without looking up. Brooklyn pointed toward a patch of floor where the bodies were not packed quite so tightly. “Over there. Better circulations.” She took him into the gap. “Here,” she said when Spencer first put his hands too high at her waist.
She moved one down to the full curve of her hip and left it there. The other she set at her waist. Her face softened when he left his hands where she had put them. Her hips found the music, and a few measures later she turned with her back to him. The great curve of her ass met his thighs. Brooklyn looked over one shoulder only once, saw his expression, and smiled. She moved closer. Spencer’s hands tightened at her hips. Brooklyn let her head tip back near his shoulder and kept dancing. When she faced him again her cheeks were warm and her blouse had begun to cling lightly between her shoulder blades.
Spencer kissed her. Brooklyn held the back of his neck and kissed him harder, then stayed close after their mouths separated. He told her she looked happy. Brooklyn looked past him toward Honey-Lou, who had both hands up under purple light, then toward Debbie at the table. “I am. I like you here.” She kissed him once more and took his hand when the song changed.
Honey-Lou reached them a little later. She touched Brooklyn’s arm first. Brooklyn turned, kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand once, and went back toward Debbie. Honey-Lou stood in front of him, still smiling from the dance, curls looser around her face. She put both hands in his and began moving before he did. Honey-Lou did not count steps. She followed the song with her whole body and let the beat arrive where it arrived. When Spencer found it with her, Honey-Lou moved his hands to her waist and looped her arms around his shoulders. Their bodies came together at an angle because of her chest. Spencer’s eyes dipped once when the soft weight of her tits pressed against him, then rose back to her face. Honey-Lou noticed. She smiled more deeply and stayed close. The next time his eyes moved she did not pretend not to see it. “You can look,” she said near his ear. “I think they’re pretty too.”
Then she kept dancing. Spencer’s palms stayed at her waist. Honey-Lou turned carefully under one arm, the heavy front of her dress shifting with the movement, and came back laughing because she had nearly lost one shoe. She looked down long enough to plant it again, then lifted her eyes. “I’m good.” Spencer’s mouth moved into a smile. Honey-Lou leaned close enough to hear the next lyric against his cheek.
The slower part of the song carried them toward the edge of the floor. Honey-Lou reached for a glass of water from a passing tray and drank half of it before handing the rest to Spencer. Across the room Brooklyn stood beside Debbie. Debbie had Honey-Lou’s purse now, Brooklyn’s purse tucked against the same hip, and Brooklyn was fixing the backing of Debbie’s pride pin where it had begun to tilt. Honey-Lou watched them for a second, then rested her shoulder against the dark pillar beside her. “Brookie really likes you,” she said. Spencer glanced toward Brooklyn and then back. Honey-Lou touched one finger to the cold side of the water glass. “She showed you her trail book.” Spencer nodded. “Yeah.” Honey-Lou’s smile was small. “She doesn’t show everybody.”
She looked across the room again. Brooklyn gave Debbie’s pin a last press, handed both purses back, and Debbie tucked Honey-Lou’s strap higher on her shoulder before taking her own bag. Spencer told her Brooklyn had also shown him an unfinished map. Honey-Lou looked back at him. “Oh. Yeah, then she really likes you.” Her hand came up and rested flat against his chest. “I’m glad. You’re sweet with her.” She left it there while the song behind them changed. Honey-Lou put one hand flat on his chest and kissed him gently. Spencer kissed her back. Her fingers curled into his shirt, and her other hand slid to the side of his neck. When they parted she looked once toward Brooklyn. Brooklyn met her eyes from across the floor, calm and warm. Honey-Lou turned back and kissed Spencer again.
When they returned to the table, Debbie held Honey-Lou’s drink out before Honey-Lou asked for it. Honey-Lou took it, leaned into Brooklyn’s body where Brooklyn sat sideways on a stool, and let Brooklyn put an arm around her waist. Debbie reached across the table and wiped a faint streak of Brooklyn’s lipstick from Honey-Lou’s jaw with the corner of a napkin. Honey-Lou tilted her chin automatically, still sipping through the straw. Brooklyn stole Debbie’s ginger ale, drank from it, and set it back in exactly the same place. Debbie moved it two inches away from the edge because Brooklyn always put glasses too close when she was excited. Spencer sat across from them. Honey-Lou’s knee rested against Debbie’s beneath the table.
Brooklyn’s hand stayed at Honey-Lou’s waist. Debbie pulled the orange slice from Honey-Lou’s glass after Honey-Lou had sucked the juice from it and put the peel on her own napkin. When a faster song broke through from the red-lit room, Brooklyn’s head turned and Debbie’s did too. Honey-Lou looked at both of them and smiled. Brooklyn held her hand toward Debbie. Debbie drank once, set her glass down, and took it.
Before they moved, Honey-Lou caught Debbie’s wrist and drew her closer. One side of Debbie’s hair had flattened from heat near her temple, and Honey-Lou smoothed it back with damp fingertips, then looked at the little pride pin to make sure Brooklyn’s repair had held. Debbie tipped her head toward Honey-Lou’s fingers and held still while Honey-Lou smoothed the same section twice. “You look so pretty tonight,” Honey-Lou said softly, still working the flattened hair back into place. Brooklyn, meanwhile, reached into Honey-Lou’s purse and found the gloss she wanted without asking which tube it was. She held it out. Honey-Lou took it, put on a thin layer by feel, and then passed it back for Brooklyn.
Debbie watched Brooklyn use the same mirrorless method and reached over at the end to wipe a tiny red mark from Brooklyn’s front tooth with her thumb. Brooklyn closed her lips, waited, and smiled when Debbie was finished. Honey-Lou leaned over and rested her cheek on Debbie’s shoulder for two beats while Brooklyn put the gloss away. Debbie’s head tipped lightly against Honey-Lou’s curls. Then Brooklyn offered her hand and Debbie took it, and the three women went toward the faster room together.
The red room was smaller, hotter, and louder. Debbie knew every word to the song. She mouthed the first verse rather than singing it, her shoulders moving while Brooklyn danced in front of her. Honey-Lou came in on Debbie’s other side, a beat late as usual, and their hands found one another. Brooklyn turned Debbie once. Debbie came around with a real smile already on her face. Honey-Lou lifted her hand at the next familiar beat and Debbie met it palm to palm without looking. Brooklyn slipped between them, then out again. Honey-Lou sang one line with her chin tipped toward the lights. Debbie sang the next line. Brooklyn leaned back against Honey-Lou for a moment, then took Debbie by both hands and pulled her closer when a group beside them crowded the available space.
Spencer stayed at the edge until Honey-Lou reached behind herself, found his wrist, and drew him into the circle. Honey-Lou kept hold of Debbie with one hand while she drew Spencer in with the other. Brooklyn stayed where she was, still moving to the chorus. Debbie kept singing. Brooklyn’s hips moved with easy confidence. Honey-Lou’s curls bounced loose around her face. Brooklyn opened a gap beside her and Spencer stepped into it. A few beats later Debbie moved through the same space and Brooklyn shifted behind Honey-Lou. By the final chorus they were all damp with heat. Debbie was laughing quietly with her head tipped toward Honey-Lou, and Honey-Lou had one hand braced on Debbie’s shoulder while the other stayed linked with Brooklyn’s.
They came out for water. Honey-Lou leaned both forearms on the bar and breathed through her mouth while Brooklyn stood behind her and lifted the curls off the back of her neck. Debbie accepted the first water from Spencer and drank nearly half. When she lowered the glass, Honey-Lou looked at her and smiled, eyes bright and damp from the heat. Debbie saw it, touched Honey-Lou once at the wrist, and drank again. A small platform near the far wall had begun to gather people. A performer in an ivory suit appeared beneath a narrow light, the shoulders rising into a sweep of pale feathers. Honey-Lou turned toward her and forgot to finish drinking. “Oh my God,” she whispered. Brooklyn followed her gaze. “She’s beautiful.” Honey-Lou nodded, eyes fixed on the feathers. “So beautiful.”
Debbie handed her water to Spencer, took Honey-Lou’s purse off Honey-Lou’s shoulder before the strap could slip, and the four moved closer. Honey-Lou stood in front with Brooklyn behind her. Brooklyn’s hands rested loosely at her hips. Debbie and Spencer stood shoulder to shoulder just behind them. During the second song the performer came down into the crowd. When she reached Honey-Lou she looked at Honey-Lou’s face, then at the spectacular swell of her chest, and smiled with frank admiration before touching two fingers to her own heart. Honey-Lou’s face went bright. She leaned back into Brooklyn, laughing silently, and Brooklyn held her around the waist. Debbie’s smile stayed for the rest of the song.
On the way back from the restroom Brooklyn and Honey-Lou had stopped beside a mirror wall near the corridor because two women were taking photographs there with a disposable camera. One of them offered to take a picture of Brooklyn and Honey-Lou together. Honey-Lou moved close at once, one arm around Brooklyn’s waist, while Brooklyn turned slightly so her body sat at the angle she liked best. The woman looked through the little viewfinder, laughed warmly, and told Brooklyn her jeans were doing excellent work. Brooklyn’s smile spread. Honey-Lou put her hand on the curve of Brooklyn’s ass and left it there for the flash.
Then Brooklyn asked for one more and pulled Debbie over from the table before Debbie could fix her hair. Honey-Lou lifted one arm and Debbie stepped into the open space against her side. The second photograph caught the three of them pressed together, Honey-Lou in the middle with her enormous chest filling the front of the green dress, Brooklyn angled against one side, Debbie slender and dark-haired against the other. Honey-Lou kissed Debbie’s temple a fraction before the flash. Nobody looked particularly composed.
When the camera came down, Brooklyn asked the women to use the last frame for Spencer with all three of them. Spencer stepped in. Debbie’s arm went around his waist. Honey-Lou’s hand rested on his chest. Brooklyn leaned against his other side. The camera flashed again, making a small white square of the night that they would not see until the film was developed.
The crowd thinned when the little show ended. Honey-Lou went to the restroom with Brooklyn, and Debbie stayed at the table with Spencer. She sat on the stool Honey-Lou had left and turned her glass slowly between both palms. For a while she did not speak. An older pair of women danced near the edge of the floor, close together even though the song was too fast for the way they were moving. One had short silver hair; the other wore yellow and laughed with her face near her partner’s shoulder. Debbie watched them. Spencer followed her gaze. Debbie said, “Honey-Lou wanted Brooklyn to see this place.”
Her eyes remained on the women. “She likes seeing her happy.” Spencer nodded. Debbie drank. After another minute she looked at him. “You having a good night?” He said he was. Debbie nodded once, looked down at his hands, then back toward the dance floor. “Good.” When Brooklyn and Honey-Lou returned, Honey-Lou had one shoe in her hand and a narrow bandage across the back of one heel. Debbie immediately shifted off the stool to make room. Honey-Lou sat and lifted her foot into Debbie’s lap. Debbie’s hands were already there to steady her ankle while Honey-Lou kept talking softly to Brooklyn.
Brooklyn opened her purse and found the little emergency kit she always carried. Spencer crouched beside Honey-Lou, taking the loose shoe from her while Brooklyn cut a piece of moleskin. Debbie pressed the first bandage flatter with her thumb, then held Honey-Lou’s heel steady while Brooklyn fixed the soft patch inside the strap. Honey-Lou rested one hand on Spencer’s shoulder for balance. “It got rubby,” she said, looking down at the red place on her skin. Brooklyn smoothed the edge of the patch. Debbie put Honey-Lou’s foot back into the shoe and fastened it, then ran a finger along the strap to make sure the rough point was covered. Honey-Lou stood and walked two slow steps. “Oh, yeah. That’s so much better.” She looked at the three of them around her and smiled.
“You’re all so sweet.” Brooklyn closed the kit. Debbie already had the scraps folded into the napkin so they would not stick to anything. The entire repair took less than three minutes. Spencer rose from his crouch. Honey-Lou touched his cheek once in thanks and then kissed Brooklyn. Debbie put the emergency kit back in the same pocket of Brooklyn’s purse where it always lived.
Before Debbie went with Spencer, Brooklyn and Honey-Lou stayed for one song with her. Brooklyn took the middle, brought Debbie close enough that their shoulders touched, and reached behind herself until Honey-Lou found her hand. Honey-Lou turned when the beat caught her, came back crooked, and kept going. Debbie stayed close at Brooklyn’s other side, one hand low at her waist. Brooklyn’s ass brushed Honey-Lou’s hip when she shifted. Honey-Lou’s tits made Debbie give her an extra half-step of room when they faced each other. Honey-Lou shifted sideways when her chest met Debbie’s, and Debbie changed angle with her at once. Brooklyn moved behind them, one hand finding Honey-Lou’s waist and the other Debbie’s shoulder.
Honey-Lou put her hand over Debbie’s for a moment when Debbie rested it at her waist. She leaned near enough to Debbie’s ear to say, “You look really pretty dancing.” Debbie’s mouth softened before Honey-Lou moved with the beat again. Brooklyn touched Debbie’s shoulder when the crowd surged. At the end Brooklyn kissed Honey-Lou and then pressed her cheek briefly to Debbie’s hair. Debbie stayed close for one more measure after the music changed, then looked across the floor toward Spencer. Brooklyn saw where she was looking and simply let her go.
Brooklyn and Honey-Lou returned to the floor after the shoe survived its test. Debbie stayed beside Spencer long enough to finish her water. Then she set the glass down and held out her hand. She kept it there until Spencer took it. Debbie led him to the main floor, choosing the edge rather than the center. The song had a slow, heavy pulse. At first Debbie kept a little space between them. Her shoulders found the rhythm before the rest of her did. Spencer waited with his hands loose at his sides until Debbie touched his wrist and placed one hand at her waist. She kept his other hand in hers. For the first verse Debbie kept their joined hands low between them. Her shoulders moved first, then her hips. When the space between them narrowed she shifted one foot between his and let the beat carry them sideways. The small pride pin flashed in the moving light.
Spencer’s thumb rested against the seam of her blue top. Debbie looked down once at his hand, then lifted her eyes. She did not move it. A woman passed close behind her, and Spencer shifted them both enough to avoid the collision. Debbie came with him, their joined hands staying between them. The next song began. Debbie did not let go. She moved one step nearer.
Spencer asked once whether she was all right. Debbie answered without breaking the rhythm. “I’m okay. I’ll tell you.” Debbie’s hand moved from his shoulder to the edge of his collar where it had folded under itself. She flattened the cloth with her thumb. Her fingers stayed there. They came close enough to kiss and did not, then came close again when the crowd shifted. Debbie looked at his mouth this time. She closed the rest of the distance. The first kiss lasted only a few seconds.
She drew back enough to breathe, but not enough to make space between their bodies. Debbie’s hand remained at his collar. The beat returned stronger beneath them. They moved again. A few measures later Debbie kissed him a second time, longer now, one hand sliding to the side of his neck. Spencer’s palm remained steady at her waist. Debbie’s eyes closed. When the kiss ended she rested her forehead near his cheek for a second and then went back to dancing. The lights changed from blue to white. She did not look toward Brooklyn or Honey-Lou until the song was nearly over. When she did, Honey-Lou was watching from the table with a water glass in her hand. She lifted it. Debbie nodded. “Water,” she said to Spencer when the song ended.
At the table Debbie drank almost the whole glass. Honey-Lou moved onto the stool beside her and put one hand between Debbie’s shoulder blades while she drank, the touch quiet and familiar. Brooklyn stood on Debbie’s other side and took the empty glass from her when she was done. Debbie wiped her mouth with the back of two fingers and looked at Honey-Lou. Honey-Lou leaned in to kiss her cheek.
Debbie accepted it without changing expression much, though her shoulders lowered. Brooklyn handed her the ginger ale that had been waiting. Spencer stood opposite them. Honey-Lou kept her hand between Debbie’s shoulder blades until Debbie leaned forward for the glass. Brooklyn put one boot on the lower rung, slid Debbie’s ginger ale nearer with two fingers, and looked toward the mezzanine. “It’s more ventilational up there,” she said. Debbie nodded. Honey-Lou was watching the platform performer speak with someone near the stage and did not move yet. Brooklyn took Spencer’s hand. “Come upstairs with me, honey.” They went upstairs. Before they left, Honey-Lou caught Brooklyn’s wrist and pulled her close enough to fix the paper flower that had started slipping behind her ear.
Brooklyn stood still while Honey-Lou tucked the little folded stem into her hair, then kissed Honey-Lou once and pressed her forehead to hers. Debbie was still drinking. Brooklyn reached out without looking and put two fingers against Debbie’s forearm. Debbie turned her hand and squeezed them. The contact lasted only a second. Then Brooklyn went with Spencer. Honey-Lou shifted onto Debbie’s stool as soon as it was free, their knees touching under the table. She lifted Debbie’s glass to check how much was left and pushed the water closer. Debbie drank again while Honey-Lou watched the dance floor.
A woman in a white minidress passed and Honey-Lou leaned toward Debbie to say, “Pretty.” Debbie followed her eyes and nodded. Honey-Lou rested her chin on Debbie’s shoulder for a few seconds. Debbie kept one hand around the cold glass and put the other over Honey-Lou’s forearm. The club flashed blue around them.
The mezzanine muted the club enough that Brooklyn could speak without putting her mouth against Spencer’s ear. She walked to the small balcony above the entrance and leaned on the rail. The line outside had grown. People moved below them in bright little groups, stepping from the humid street into the blue light under the awning. Spencer stood beside her. Brooklyn turned after a while and kissed him, slower than she had downstairs. Her hand rested at his jaw. When she pulled back, she kept her fingers there. “You okay, honey?” she asked. Spencer said yes. Brooklyn smiled and brushed her thumb once along his jaw. “Good. I really like you here.”
She looked down toward the entrance again, then back at him. “Honey’s all heart. Debbie takes her time.” Her fingers slipped into his. “Just be sweet with them, okay?” Spencer told her he would. Brooklyn’s smile came easily. “I know.” She kissed him again and rested against his shoulder, the side of her face near his shirt. Downstairs, somewhere beneath them, the bass changed and a cheer rose from the floor.
Honey-Lou came up with Debbie ten minutes later carrying four waters. She had a tiny folded paper flower tucked behind one ear. Brooklyn smiled when she saw it and reached up to touch one petal. Honey-Lou handed her a glass. “The lady in the white suit gave me this,” she said. “She said I was pretty.” Brooklyn’s face softened. “You are, baby. It looks so pretty in your hair.” Honey-Lou leaned in and kissed her. Debbie gave Spencer his water and took the chair closest to the open side of the mezzanine, the place with the clearest path back to the stairs. Brooklyn sat on the arm of the low couch beside Honey-Lou.
Honey-Lou looked down over the rail at the dance floor. From above, the bodies moved in patches of colored light, people joining and separating as the songs changed. “It looks so pretty from up here,” she said. “Everybody’s all floaty.” Debbie drank from her glass. Brooklyn rested her cheek briefly against Honey-Lou’s hair. Spencer watched the floor too. For two songs the four of them stayed upstairs. Honey-Lou talked a little about the performer’s feathers because she had learned they came off in one piece. Brooklyn asked whether they were heavy. Honey-Lou said, “A little, probably. They looked very structurial.” Debbie turned her glass in her hand.
A man at the upstairs bar spoke to Spencer while the women stood at the rail. He was friendly, direct, and close enough that Spencer understood the interest before the man had finished asking whether he was there with anyone. Spencer said yes and glanced toward Brooklyn, Honey-Lou, and Debbie. The man followed his eyes, nodded, and wished him a good night. When Spencer came back with a fresh glass of ice, Honey-Lou had taken her shoes off again and tucked them under the couch. Debbie had one of Honey-Lou’s feet in her lap and was rubbing the place just above the heel where the strap had been.
Brooklyn sat on the floor with her back against the couch, her head resting near Honey-Lou’s knee. Honey-Lou had one hand in Brooklyn’s hair. Spencer stopped beside the couch. Debbie moved her knee enough to make room before he asked, and Brooklyn shifted her shoulder against Honey-Lou’s leg so the open cushion widened. Spencer sat. Honey-Lou passed him her water, then put her hand back into Brooklyn’s hair. Debbie continued rubbing Honey-Lou’s foot until Honey-Lou flexed it and said, “Oh, Deb, that feels so good.” Debbie set the foot down and reached for her own drink.
Honey-Lou leaned against Spencer after Debbie went downstairs with Brooklyn for another song. Without shoes she sat curled on the couch, the green skirt gathered around her knees, one shoulder touching his. She drank slowly and watched colored light move over the exposed pipes. “Brookie used to make towns out of pillows,” she said. “Me and Debbie helped.” Spencer turned his head toward her. Honey-Lou smiled into her glass. “I did snacks. Debbie made everything neat.” Spencer asked how old Debbie had been. “Eight.” Honey-Lou rested her head on his shoulder. “She was so little. I loved her right away.” After a moment she added, with sleepy certainty, “We kept her.” Spencer put his hand palm-up on the couch between them. Honey-Lou threaded her fingers through his and stayed there, watching the lights.
Brooklyn and Debbie found them that way. Brooklyn sat on Honey-Lou’s other side without hesitation, and Honey-Lou shifted enough to make contact with both Brooklyn and Spencer at once. Debbie took the chair opposite, then leaned forward and stole Honey-Lou’s orange slice from the melting drink on the table. Honey-Lou let her. Brooklyn kissed Honey-Lou slowly, one hand at her cheek. Honey-Lou’s fingers tightened around Spencer’s hand during the kiss. When Brooklyn drew back she kissed Spencer too. Debbie watched the room, not them. They stayed upstairs for nearly twenty minutes.
The club continued below. Honey-Lou got up once to look over the rail and came back with the paper flower slipping from her hair. Debbie took it, fixed the fold that had opened, and returned it. Brooklyn turned it over in her fingers. “Oh, baby, it’s so pretty on you.” Honey-Lou smiled. “I love it. I’m keeping it.” Debbie said, “Put it in my bag. Your purse is wet.” Honey-Lou handed the flower to her. Debbie tucked it into the small inner pocket of her own bag where nothing could crush it. Honey-Lou settled back against the couch once Debbie zipped the pocket.
Debbie’s pride pin came loose a little later. She caught it against her chest before it fell. Spencer held out his hand. Debbie gave it to him and watched while he bent the backing gently into shape. He returned it. Debbie looked down at the pin in her palm, then turned one shoulder toward him and held the fabric flat between two fingers. “Can you?” she asked. Spencer fastened it back beneath her collarbone. His knuckles brushed the cloth once. Debbie stayed still until the clasp was secure. When he finished she smoothed the top and looked at him. “Thanks.” Honey-Lou, half reclined on the couch, was already looking toward the stairwell because a familiar song had begun downstairs. Her eyes widened. Brooklyn heard the same opening line and stood at once.
Debbie picked up Honey-Lou’s shoes before Honey-Lou could forget them. Honey-Lou got to her feet barefoot. Brooklyn took one shoe from Debbie, Spencer took the other, and Honey-Lou descended between them holding the rail. “I’ll put them back on later,” she said, then looked at Debbie carrying the pair. “Thank you, baby. You’re so sweet.” At the bottom Debbie placed both shoes beneath their table, pushed them well back from passing feet, and followed Honey-Lou onto the floor.
The three women danced together first. Spencer stayed beside the table and watched them. Honey-Lou went between Brooklyn and Debbie, one hand in each of theirs. Brooklyn turned her. Debbie caught her when the bare foot slipped slightly on the floor. Honey-Lou barely interrupted the motion before continuing. Brooklyn moved behind her, hands at her waist, and Debbie faced them both. Then the arrangement shifted. Brooklyn took Debbie’s hands and danced with her while Honey-Lou moved behind Brooklyn, cheek near Brooklyn’s shoulder. Debbie smiled at Brooklyn. Brooklyn said something Spencer could not hear. Debbie shook her head but stayed close.
Honey-Lou reached across Brooklyn and touched Debbie’s wrist. Debbie stepped left before Honey-Lou completed the turn and caught her hand at exactly the right height. When the crowd pressed inward, Brooklyn moved to Debbie’s outside shoulder and held the gap open with her own body. Honey-Lou reached back without looking and touched first Brooklyn’s wrist, then Debbie’s. Halfway through the song Honey-Lou looked toward Spencer and held out her hand. He came.
Brooklyn caught his wrist and pulled him behind her for a few measures, smiling when his hands found her hips without needing placement this time. Honey-Lou danced with Debbie. Debbie’s palm rested lightly at Honey-Lou’s waist while Honey-Lou lifted both arms and let the music move through her. Spencer shifted from Brooklyn to Honey-Lou when Honey-Lou reached for him, then back toward Debbie when the group changed shape again. Debbie took his hand and danced beside him rather than facing him at first. Their shoulders touched. Her fingers stayed linked with his. Honey-Lou passed in front of them, caught Debbie’s free hand, and drew her away.
Debbie went, leaving Spencer’s hand without apology. Brooklyn filled the empty space almost immediately, backing into Spencer until her huge ass settled against him. Spencer’s hands came to her hips. Brooklyn smiled over her shoulder and kept moving until Honey-Lou returned, wrapped both arms around Brooklyn from the front, and kissed her. Spencer stayed behind Brooklyn while she kissed her girlfriend. When the kiss ended Honey-Lou rested her forehead against Brooklyn’s. Debbie moved in beside them. Spencer’s hand remained at Brooklyn’s waist. Honey-Lou reached for Debbie again, Brooklyn turned back toward her, and Spencer followed the changing hands and shoulders until the four of them had shifted twice around the same little patch of floor.
The club began to feel later even though fresh people were still arriving. Honey-Lou’s movements slowed. Debbie started drinking water after each song. Brooklyn sat through one whole track, boots crossed beneath the table, and watched Spencer dance with Honey-Lou again. Honey-Lou came close to him at once, tired enough that the dance became almost an embrace. Her cheek rested near his for several measures. Her enormous tits pressed softly against his chest whenever they turned. Spencer held her at the waist and back. Honey-Lou closed her eyes.
When she opened them, Brooklyn was watching. Honey-Lou smiled toward her, then turned her face and kissed Spencer. The kiss lasted until she drew back for breath. She stayed close afterward. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said against the side of his face. Spencer told her he was glad too. Honey-Lou looked past him toward Brooklyn and Debbie at the table. Brooklyn was drinking from Debbie’s glass again. Debbie had one hand resting on Brooklyn’s knee while she watched the crowd. Honey-Lou’s mouth softened. “I like you with us,” she said. She put both arms around his shoulders again and kept dancing. Spencer looked toward the table once more. Brooklyn caught his eyes and smiled. Debbie looked at Honey-Lou, then at him, and took another drink.
Later Brooklyn handed Spencer a fresh glass of water and tilted her head toward the stairs. Debbie had gone up alone. Spencer found her on the little balcony above the entrance. She stood with both forearms on the rail watching traffic move below. He came beside her without touching. Debbie accepted the water and drank. The warm wind lifted a strand of hair near her temple. She tucked it back. For a while they said nothing. A cab stopped below, let out two women, and moved away again. Debbie watched them join the line before she looked over at him. “I like you,” she said. The words were quiet enough that the street nearly took them. He said, “I like you too.”
Debbie looked back down at the line outside. Her fingers moved around the glass. “This is new for me.” Spencer nodded. Debbie glanced at him again, then set the glass on the rail and kissed him. Her hand came to the side of his face. Spencer’s hand found her waist. Debbie kissed him until the wall behind him touched his shoulder, then stayed close after their mouths separated. Her thumb moved once against his cheek. “Come dance with me again,” she said. Spencer nodded. Debbie picked up her glass. They went downstairs together.
Brooklyn was waiting near the bottom of the stairs with a fresh glass of water in one hand. Honey-Lou stood beside an older woman in a sequined cardigan, listening with complete attention while the woman’s partner explained that she had sewn the cardigan herself. Debbie walked directly to Honey-Lou and touched the sequined sleeve when Honey-Lou held it out for inspection. Brooklyn kissed Spencer once and then leaned into Debbie long enough for their shoulders to touch. Debbie handed Brooklyn the half-finished water. Brooklyn drank. Honey-Lou only looked at her face once, smiled softly, and tucked a loose strand of Debbie’s hair behind her ear before returning to the cardigan. The older woman introduced herself as Rhoda. Her partner was Joan.
Rhoda asked Brooklyn and Honey-Lou how long they had been together after seeing Honey-Lou settle naturally against Brooklyn’s side. “Since ninety-nine,” Brooklyn said, smiling down at Honey-Lou. “She’s my baby.” Honey-Lou squeezed her waist and looked up at her. “My Brookie.” Rhoda smiled at them. Debbie stood on Honey-Lou’s other side, close enough that Honey-Lou’s elbow rested lightly against her arm. Spencer stood beside Brooklyn. Joan told Honey-Lou where she bought the sequins. Honey-Lou leaned closer, eyes on the tiny silver pieces, and nodded.
A slower song spread across the main room after Rhoda and Joan went back to dance. Brooklyn reached for Honey-Lou first. Honey-Lou took her hand. Spencer was beside them, and Brooklyn caught his hand with the other. Debbie joined when Honey-Lou reached for her. They went onto the floor linked for only a few steps before the crowd broke the line apart. Brooklyn ended up between Honey-Lou and Spencer. Honey-Lou faced her, hands at Brooklyn’s waist. Spencer stood behind Brooklyn, one palm resting at her hip. Brooklyn closed her eyes and moved with both of them.
Honey-Lou kissed her. Brooklyn’s hand came up to the back of Honey-Lou’s neck. The kiss deepened slowly. Spencer’s hand stayed at Brooklyn’s hip while she kissed Honey-Lou. When Brooklyn turned her face afterward, she kissed him over her shoulder. Honey-Lou moved toward Debbie. Debbie’s hands rested at Honey-Lou’s arms at first, then one moved to her waist once they found a comfortable angle around Honey-Lou’s chest. They danced that way, faces near enough to speak but neither of them speaking. Honey-Lou smiled. Debbie did too. Brooklyn turned from Spencer and took Debbie’s free hand for a moment, linking the three women again before the song carried them into another shape.
Spencer and Debbie came together later in the same song. Debbie took his hand before he offered it and put her other hand at the back of his neck. They moved in a small circle. She kissed him once, then rested close without kissing him again. Brooklyn returned fully to Honey-Lou. Honey-Lou tucked her face near Brooklyn’s neck. The four changed places several times without keeping count. Brooklyn danced with Debbie and turned her once, careful of the slower beat. Debbie almost stepped on Brooklyn’s boot and caught herself with both hands at Brooklyn’s shoulders.
Brooklyn held her at the waist until she was steady. Honey-Lou was with Spencer then, head near his shoulder, and reached one hand toward Brooklyn without leaving Spencer’s arms. Brooklyn took it. For several measures Honey-Lou stood between them by touch alone, one hand joined with Brooklyn, one arm around Spencer, while Debbie rested a palm at Brooklyn’s back. Brooklyn’s thumb moved over Honey-Lou’s knuckles. Debbie’s palm stayed at Brooklyn’s back. Spencer’s hand rested at Honey-Lou’s waist until the next turn carried them apart again. When the song ended the lights shifted brighter for a second. Honey-Lou blinked and laughed softly, then reached for Brooklyn again.
They stayed on the floor through one more song before the table won them back. Honey-Lou had lost most of the careful shape from her curls by then, and Brooklyn’s blouse was damp at the small of her back. Debbie’s pride pin still sat straight. Spencer’s shirt had come untucked at one side. Honey-Lou noticed first and reached down to smooth it. Her hand paused at his waist. She looked up at him. Spencer put his hand over hers. Honey-Lou smiled and finished tucking the shirt in. Brooklyn watched from beside them, her expression soft. Debbie picked a strand of Honey-Lou’s hair from where it had stuck across her lipstick and set it behind her shoulder. Brooklyn handed Honey-Lou the water before she asked. Debbie took Spencer’s empty glass and set it with hers. Honey-Lou finished tucking his shirt, patted the fabric flat once, and moved back toward Brooklyn’s side.
They went back to the table for water. Honey-Lou kicked off her shoes beneath it and pushed them toward Debbie’s chair with her toes. Debbie caught one shoe under her foot and slid both farther in. Brooklyn sat beside Honey-Lou, thigh pressed to hers, and put an arm along the back of her chair. Debbie moved her stool closer to Spencer’s without looking at the legs. Four glasses stood in front of them. The club kept moving around their little table. Someone near the bar sang along badly to a chorus.
A pair of men kissed beside the stairs. The performer in the ivory suit crossed the room without the feathered shoulder piece, carrying it over one arm. Honey-Lou watched her pass, then rested her head against Brooklyn. “I love it here,” she said. Brooklyn kissed her hair. “Me too, baby. You look so pretty tonight.” Honey-Lou tucked closer against her, pleased. Honey-Lou looked across at Debbie. Debbie’s hand lay near Spencer’s on the table. Their little fingers touched when he moved his glass, then stayed there. Honey-Lou’s smile was sleepy and satisfied. “I like everybody.” Debbie looked at her. Brooklyn’s hand moved over Honey-Lou’s shoulder. Spencer’s little finger remained against Debbie’s.
The next song began with three notes Honey-Lou recognized before anyone else did. Her head came up from Brooklyn’s shoulder. The tiredness disappeared from her face so quickly that Brooklyn started smiling. Honey-Lou stood, barefoot, and reached down for Brooklyn’s hand. “Come dance with me, baby.” Brooklyn took it. Honey-Lou held her other hand toward Debbie. Debbie stood and took that one.
She had already hooked Honey-Lou’s shoes together by their straps and left them safe beneath the table. Spencer remained seated for one beat while the three women stood linked in front of him, Honey-Lou between Brooklyn and Debbie, Brooklyn already moving to the music, Debbie already moving to the beat. Honey-Lou looked back and held her fingers toward Spencer.
He put his hand in hers. They went back onto the dance floor together. The blue lights passed over Honey-Lou’s bare feet, Brooklyn’s red blouse, Debbie’s straight little pride pin, and Spencer’s hand linked with Honey-Lou’s. Brooklyn reached the edge of the crowd first and turned, drawing the others in after her. Honey-Lou came laughing into the light. Debbie followed close at her shoulder. The music swallowed them again before any of them had to decide what came next. The club was nowhere near closing. Nobody looked toward the door.
Author’s note: Honey-Lou’s “destinationary” means related to the destination, “structurial” means structurally sound or well constructed, and “rubby” means rubbing or chafing. Brooklyn’s “circulations” means the flow of people through a space, and “ventilational” means better ventilated or cooler.