Coffee Sonata (19 page)

“First woman to kiss you? For real?”

“Yes.”
And that’s not all.

“So you’ve only been with men up till now?”

“Three, to be exact. One when I was in college. One twelve years ago. Very nice, both of them, but I let them slip through my fingers.”

“And the third?”

“Two years ago.” Manon shuddered. “Let’s just say that he didn’t adhere to the arrangement.”

Eryn looked like she wanted to ask follow-up questions.

“I may tell you about that another day,” Manon added, to forestall questions she wasn’t prepared to answer—yet.

“All right.” Eryn sat down on the floor again and pushed the bags aside. “It makes sense, though. You’re a lesbian. Of course you had to let them go.”

Manon swallowed repeatedly and slumped into a sitting position with her back against a leg of the kitchen table. It didn’t occur to her until later how absurd it was for her to sit on a kitchen floor. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d sat on any floor. Unable to avoid Eryn’s statement, she leaned her head back. “Yes. Yes, I am.” Cold shivers launched icicles throughout her body.
I don’t talk about this. With anyone. I don’t want to. And here she is, gazing at me with those hypnotic green eyes. Damn her to hell. Why do I let her? Why can’t I say no?

“Reba Renaldo was way off base there, wasn’t she?”

“Who? Oh, the columnist.” Manon shook her head. “Way off.”

“And you’re obviously not only closeted, but you have a serious problem with your sexual preference.”

“Are these questions?” Manon sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I am or not. I’m single. I live alone and like it that way.”

“But what about love?” Eryn’s eyes grew wider, and she covered her forehead with her hand. “You make it sound as if you’ve decided to never give love a chance. Do you have any idea what you’re missing with someone of your own gender?” Green eyes flashed a whole range of emotions as Eryn scooted closer. “You’re a wonderful woman. Any person, male or female, would count themselves lucky to be with you.”

“I don’t think so. In fact,” she added, again uncharacteristically forthcoming, “I have a very modest libido.” Manon tried to explain and cringed at how she exposed herself. “I have no…particular urges. That doesn’t bother me much.”

“Hey. There was nothing wrong with your libido just now.” Eryn looked at Manon cautiously before she spoke. Eryn’s gaze raked up and down as if gauging Manon’s potential reaction before she spoke. “You were furious, and you may have resented me for kissing you, but you can’t deny that you clung to me and kissed me back. You melted into me, and your kiss was passionate. I’d call that having urges!”

Oh, God, she’s right. It was as if I discovered…something.
In fact, Manon could still feel the physical traces of her body’s reactions. Eryn’s shimmering eyes didn’t let her off the hook, and she wanted to grab her briefcase and hold it up as a shield. “Fine. Urges.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “That’s not normal for me.”

“So, shouldn’t that tell you something? When you kiss a woman for the first time, or rather, another woman kisses you, and you feel more than usual, it should.” Eryn’s eyes blazed. “And, damn it, it was such a wonderful kiss, you would’ve had to be dead not respond to it!”

“You may be confusing anger with passion…” Manon stopped talking and placed a slow hand over her mouth. “What?”

“When you feel more than usual in a woman’s arms—”

“No. Not that.” Manon spoke past a painful lump in her throat that made her voice darker.

“Oh.” Eryn smiled carefully. “You meant the part about the kiss being wonderful?”

“Yes.”

“It was. Breathtaking, arousing…and it grabbed me solidly by the heart.” Eryn hugged her arms around her bent legs and placed her chin on top of her knees. “I’m not exaggerating. It did.”

Manon knew this was no time to play the slalom skier. Eryn deserved the truth, even if Manon had to back off afterward. “Then I should level with you. It wasn’t just my first kiss with another woman. It was my first kiss—ever.”

*

Vivian glanced up as Perry and Mason escorted Mike into the living room with its panoramic view of the Atlantic. She had arranged a tray with cheese, crackers, and fruit and put it and an open bottle of red wine on the coffee table. Now she leaned against the armrest of the couch and smiled at Mike.

She felt nervous again. Their conversation at the café earlier had almost disheartened her. Mike had acted offended, or hurt, and Vivian wondered what she might have done wrong. She was afraid to ask but had promised herself not to waste any time ever again. Time was not her friend these days, and Mike’s companionship was becoming increasingly important.

“Welcome. I see the boys let you in.” Vivian motioned for Mike to sit down.

“They more than let me in. Mason nudged me from behind, and Perry took my wrist in his mouth and pulled me along.”

“Smart fellows. They can sense you like them.”
And me?

Mike remained standing a little longer, then sat in the armchair. “That looks good. May I?”

“Of course. Could you pour us some wine? My eyes are a bit blurry tonight. It’s been a long day.”

Mike immediately turned and looked at Vivian with concern. “Are you in pain?”

“Only a bit. It’s not bad.”

“Maybe you need to go to bed. I can let myself out.” Mike was halfway up from her chair and looked ready to bolt. “We can do this some other time.”

“Stop it, Mike. Listen to me. I’m fine. I’ve been looking forward to talking with you.” Vivian held her breath. “Please don’t go.”

Mike still rose, but only to pour the wine and hand her a glass. She sat down next to Vivian on the couch and pulled the coffee table closer. “There. Now we can reach everything. Some cheese?”

“Not yet.” Vivian felt sheer relief that Mike had decided to stay. “What do you think of the wine? It’s a South African Graham Beck that the conductor of my last performance in Milano gave me after closing night.”

“But that’s a special bottle! A gift.” Mike stared into her glass. “Don’t you want to share this with someone special?”

“I am,” she said quietly. “At least I’d like to think we’re special together,
cara.
”

Even if Vivian had to squint to make out Mike’s features, she could still see how Mike’s eyes darkened.
Pale skin, black eyes. I wonder…what’s the color of your heart, Mike?

“Then I propose a toast,” Mike replied evenly. “To today.”

“Today?” Vivian raised her glass, though she had no idea what Mike was talking about.

“It’s an important day. It’s all we have.” Mike sipped her wine. “Oh. This is great.”

Vivian followed suit, her brain still trying to wrap itself around Mike’s toast. “Yes, it is. It’s one of my favorites.” She took another sip, which soothed her throat. “Glad you like it.”

Mike closed her eyes, and Vivian could observe her unabashedly. Dressed in a navy blue shirt over black jeans, she was a study of shadows in the firelight. Her short hair glimmered with a bluish tint, and a new scent, a mix of coffee, vanilla, and cinnamon, wafted toward Vivian. When Mike looked up at her again, Vivian saw an ocean of unspoken questions.
Why do I get the feeling that she may never ask them, unless I start first? So withdrawn. So…scared.

Mike held on to her glass of wine and took small sips every now and then, staring wordlessly into the fire. It had taken Vivian quite some time to get it started. She had no problems entertaining the world’s leading classical musicians, but she wasn’t sure she could make a room cozy and inviting to a friend.
A friend that I’ve kissed. A friend who doesn’t feel like merely a friend anymore.

*

Mike’s skin tingled from being in Vivian’s presence. The wine warmed her stomach and lulled her body to a more peaceful state. Normally she was very careful around alcohol, but a luxurious bottle of wine like this one was meant to be savored. The smell of hard liquor and beer turned her stomach. She had never tasted any of it, though she had certainly smelled it on her father’s breath when he yelled in her face. She turned her attention to Vivian, who looked at her with a pensive expression.

“You’re beautiful,” Vivian whispered. “And there’s something about you, something utterly natural. You’re like a wild animal, and the way you look at me… You steal my breath away.”

Mike didn’t know what to think. Was Vivian saying that she was unpolished, or even feral? Was it a compliment? Or was it something Vivian resented her for? For all she knew, Vivian might be reluctantly attracted to her, and how could that be a good thing. “I’m sorry,” she managed, and immediately wanted to bite her tongue.
So
lame
.

Vivian missed a beat, but smiled after a moment. “You’re sorry? Oh, Mike. I’m the one who should apologize for making you uncomfortable. But you bring out new and extraordinary feelings in me that I don’t know how to deal with.”

“What do you mean?” Mike wasn’t sure where the conversation was going, though Vivian’s intensity warmed her.

“When you kissed me, I felt something I’d never expected. Certainly not with a woman.”

“How did you feel?”

“Tender, passionate, sexy, arousing.” Vivian averted her eyes. “But there’s a lot going on and I’m not sure this is right.”

“You regret the kisses,” Mike murmured. She placed her glass on the coffee table and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No. I don’t.” Vivian apparently hated the abyss that was opening between them as much as Mike did. “But I’m twenty years older than you, with deteriorating eyesight. I’m not sure I had the right to kiss you back, but I couldn’t resist. The kisses were wonderful.”

Mike’s pulse boomed louder in her ears, and she was sure she must’ve misheard the last word. Vivian blushed faintly and fiddled with the hem of her shirt.
She’s nervous. Perhaps as nervous as I am.
She placed a hand on Vivian’s knee and hesitated. “I was sure you pitied me. I thought you had regrets. Serious regrets.” The words actually stung her throat.

“God, no!” Shock colored Vivian’s widening eyes. “Pity never entered into it. I was perhaps stunned…but pity. Never.”

Mike wanted to trust her. More than anything she wanted to feel the warmth of Vivian’s embrace, but wanting to trust wasn’t enough. The same voice that had cautioned her so many times in the past, saved her life even, drowned out most of her ability to believe Vivian. “As long as you give me sympathy kisses,” she tried to joke. Instead it sounded as pathetic as she feared.

“No sympathy. Well, at least when it comes to kisses.” Vivian held out her glass. “Can you put that down for me?”

“Sure.”

“I’m too old and too sick to get involved with anyone,” Vivian insisted. “But I don’t want you to think that I…that I don’t find you attractive. I do.” She groaned and rubbed her face with both hands. “Oh, God, I do.”

The room went quiet as Mike absorbed the startling words. Perhaps Vivian had other reasons for her three-day silence than lack of interest in their friendship. Mike hated for Vivian to deny herself things as kisses because of her illness.
She might think I’m not that interested in her, that I’d let her down…turn away from her because of what she’s going through. Twenty years’ age difference as well as a health problem—who can blame her? And…I’m not exactly a catch.

Angry at herself for the self-deprecating thoughts, she straightened her shoulders. She had her own life with her own projects. She certainly didn’t have time to experiment with every woman who came along.

“So, in what capacity do you want me?” Mike asked, immediately regretting the ambiguity of her question.

“Honestly?” Vivian smiled, a sad irony in her voice.

“Yes.”

“Even if I’m being extremely selfish?”

“Yes.”

“A temporary lover.” Vivian extended a hand. “Someone who can back off from the sexual relationship when I need her to, without regrets. And perhaps remain a friend, though I know that’s too much to ask.”

White-edged pain shot through Mike, and she knew it was too late for her. She’d fought through the years to protect her body and her soul, but her success had also created her solitude. Now, when she’d lowered her guard for the first time in ten years, the result was worse than any of her fears. Her stomach lurched, but then she looked up at Vivian and saw her agony reflected in porcelain blue eyes. “Why would you want a lover that way, instead of a friend?”

“Because of how you make me feel. Alive. Vibrant. Desirable.” Vivian lowered her hands slowly to her lap. “I’m selfish, and I know it. I’m about to lose everything. Everything I worked for and my life as I’ve known it for the past thirty-eight years. When you hold me, I can forget everything. My blurred vision doesn’t matter then.”

Mike remained still for a few moments and then moved slowly, almost as slow as in her nightmares when she tried to outrun the demons that chased her through narrow alleys, and finally knelt next to Vivian. “I will. I’ll be the lover you need. But, and this is your choice, Vivian, once you don’t want me anymore, I can never go back to being merely your friend. Is this still what you want?”