Coffee Sonata (33 page)

It was almost impossible to resist Mike’s low, pleading voice. The hold on her elbow felt loving, not constraining. “Let me go,” Vivian demanded, but even she didn’t think she sounded convincing.

“No. I don’t
want
to. You set up those rules, but I never said I wouldn’t fight them. You haven’t figured me out yet, have you?” Mike sounded kind but also unyielding. “Unless you can tell me that I mean nothing to you and really mean it, or that our night together wasn’t what you expected—”

“Stop it! I told you. You don’t understand.”

“Try me. Try
us
.”

“She’s right.” Eryn joined them. “Let’s sit down.”

Vivian walked over to the couch and sat down in the far corner, and she did indeed feel cornered.
I’m not prepared to dissect how I feel out loud.
“The progress of the condition I have, Leber’s hereditary optic neuropathy, is rather gloomy. There’s no cure. The pain will slowly go away, but…” At a loss for words, Vivian shrugged.

“Why couldn’t you do concerts? Special television performances?” Manon asked as the others took their seats. “You’re the most popular opera singer since Maria Callas among fans outside the opera world. Among the opera enthusiasts, I think it’s a tie between you and Cecilia Bartoli.”

“I’ve made up my mind.” Vivian clung to her arguments. “It’s hard enough to perform without having to stumble through, unable to read the music or see the conductor, the audience…anybody.”

“I appreciate that this might pose a problem, but just look at our jam sessions,” Eryn said. “You have incredible timing and, most likely, perfect pitch. That means you can eventually make reading the music redundant. And as for the audience—standing in the limelight, you don’t
see
them anyway. You sense them.”

Vivian tried to remember what she meant to say. Stressed by her friends’ arguments, she clasped her hands on her lap. “You said it yourself. I was the best, I owned my audience, and they ate out of my hand. No way will I settle for a less than perfect performance just so I can stay in the limelight.” She almost hissed the last sentence.

“No one would ask you to do that,” Manon murmured, and leaned her head against Vivian’s shoulder. “But there are other ways—”

“Not for me. I intend to make a quick, clean break.”

“And that’s how you plan to cut me off?”

Vivian faltered at Mike’s words. Her eyes stung, she didn’t know whether because of their discussion or her condition.

“This is how you reason, isn’t it, Vivi?” Mike spoke almost inaudibly. “This is how you see our relationship, something of a last chance, a last try, before you isolate yourself because, in your own opinion, you’re damaged!” Mike took hold of Vivian’s upper arm and almost shook her. “Don’t you see? We’re all a little bit defective. We’re not losing our sight, but other things in our lives make us less than perfect…nobody’s perfect.”

“You are.” Vivian spoke the truth as she saw it.

“Manon, why don’t we go make some coffee?” Eryn said quietly.

“Good idea. I could use a cup.”

Vivian felt the two women get up from the couch and heard them leave the room. As if Manon and Eryn had provided a shelter from Mike’s unleashed emotions, Vivian pressed harder against the backrest.

“I’m not even close to perfect,” Mike replied. She moved closer and pressed her lips behind Vivian’s ear and sobbed. “I’m more damaged than you can imagine. Damn it, I’m a pitiful excuse of a woman who can’t fall asleep if I don’t sing lullabies to myself! Maybe
that’s
why you’re breaking up before we really get started.”

*

Mike’s heart pounded, and each contraction sent ice and hot blood in a strange mix through her veins. The pain was unbelievable and she blamed no one but herself.
I did this a second time. I had promised myself, and yet here I am…about to have my heart torn out and shredded.

Vivian turned so quickly toward Mike that she accidentally bumped into her shoulder and arm. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Stupid question. Of course I did.” Vivian’s face became as pale as her hair. “What can I say to make it better?”

“You can tell me that you’re not leaving me just because you’re battling a disability.”

“You can’t possibly want to stay with a blind, middle-aged woman.”

“You tell me that like it’s a fact of life! Damn it, Vivian. I can certainly decide who I want to be with. It’s not your job to protect me!”

“I can’t help it! We’re heading for disaster if I encourage you to stay.” Vivian gestured vaguely.

Mike considered Vivian’s words.
She seems so tired.
And yet, for a moment during the jam session, Vivian had been invigorated and vibrant. Her voice had gone from angelic to earthy and raw.
You were marvelous
. “You don’t paint a very flattering picture of me.” She placed her hand on top of Vivian’s. “If I were going blind or deaf, or became paralyzed…would you still want to be with me?”

“Of course, I would. That’s different—”

“No, it isn’t, prima donna!” Mike lowered her voice further, licking her lips. “Your attitude is so damn arrogant.”

“How dare…” Vivian hastily flung her hands in the air, then slumped back, looking tired and empty. “Am I that horrible?”

“No, you’re wonderful. Just afraid, I think.” Mike coughed to clear her throat from threatening tears, afraid that she might have to live alone forever.

“But you’re right. I am arrogant, in a way.” Vivian folded her arms across her chest. “It’s reality, though. You’re not going blind. I am. You’re young, with a future, and my future is…”

“…is different than you imagined it’d be, but it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

Something in Vivian’s attitude told Mike she had only this one opportunity to try and convince her; otherwise she’d lose her. “You’ll need help, that’s true, but you’ll be able to perform. You’ll just have to sing in different settings. You have so much to offer, and it would be such a waste if you threw that away. Please, Vivi, don’t you understand? I
need
you.” Her voice sank to a broken murmur. “I’ve never told anyone that before. Ever.”

Vivian sat in silence for a moment, her beautiful blue eyes locked a fraction of an inch below Mike’s. “Why?”

It was a question Mike had dreaded, and her insides knotted. No words would come. Desperate, Mike whimpered and hid her face in Vivian’s neck. The satin skin, together with the fresh scent of citrus and sandalwood, comforted her. “I need you. You make me feel safe, sometimes. The way I feel about you scares me, but…I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

“
Cara
—”

“Am I? Or is that a word you use for many other people?”

“No, no. You are my only dearest one.” Vivian sounded different. “I never imagined I would feel like I do, since I’ve always kept people at a distance. You slipped in under my radar.” She hugged Mike closer. “If I wasn’t ill, or about to need help with so many things that I’d tie you down…when you deserve so much more, I’d reason differently.”

“Tie me down? You haven’t and you never will! Can’t you see that you’ve set me free?” Mike whispered frantically. “You’ve given me so much. From day one you’ve treated me as an equal, a productive person who contributes like everybody else.”

“Of course you—”

“To you, I’m not a misfit with a sorry excuse for a father. I’m not a charity case that society has had to fend for. With you…I thought, with all these feelings that just soar when we’re together, I…you can’t deny that they’re there!” Mike was sobbing now and hated the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

The “mother” in her first foster home, who claimed that tears showed weakness and were a luxury for a foster child, had slapped her too often. “You’ll cry your whole life if you start now.”
I was a child.
And now as a grown woman, Mike still felt physical pain when tears trickled down her face. She swiped at them but more kept coming, as if she’d accidentally damaged whatever vessel inside her contained all her hurt feelings.

“Don’t cry. Please, Mike. Please.” Vivian held her and felt across Mike’s face. She leaned forward and kissed the wet cheeks. “There. You’re right. Of course you are.
Cara
, listen to me.”

Slowly the sobs lessened, and Mike lay still in Vivian’s arms. “Yes?”

“Of course you’re right. I know you’re right.”

“Yes?”

Vivian kissed Mike’s lips tenderly. “You’re the most extraordinary woman I’ve met, and you deserve so much good in your life.”

“Vivian, I—”

“Shh. Let me finish.” Vivian placed a finger on Mike’s lips. “I was certain that you need someone better, more appropriate for you, than me. But you have made it clear that you don’t want me to leave, like I planned.” Vivian’s words were formal, but her tone of voice was not. Warm, like summer sand, it ran over Mike, tingling against her skin.

“So, you’re not leaving right after the charity concert?”

Vivian raised her eyebrows. “No, no, that was never the plan. I’m going to retire, but that leaves me with an abundance of freedom. I intend to stay in East Quay since Boston isn’t so far away, and they have excellent ophthalmologists.”

“I thought…” Mike dragged a weary hand through her hair. “Hell, I thought you’d leave a week from now and I’d never see you again.”

“I don’t blame you for thinking that,” Vivian murmured and leaned back, drawing a deep breath. “I haven’t been very forthcoming, have I?” She cupped Mike’s cheek and let her thumb quickly caress Mike’s lower lip.

“Since you’re staying, does that mean you’re not going to push me away, like you planned?” Mike wondered where the courage to ask up front came from.

“I promise you two things.” Vivian fumbled for Mike’s hands and squeezed them for emphasis. “To not deliberately push you away and to not create a scene and make you stay if you change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind.” Mike didn’t like the wording in the second promise. It suggested that deep down Vivian expected her to bail out sooner or later. “Just so you know.”

“Very well.”

They sat in silence until a cautious-sounding voice from behind made them both jump. “Hey. You okay out here? Manon and I drank three cups of coffee each, and frankly, I need a bathroom break before I go home.” Eryn smiled crookedly. “And I’m glad I don’t see a little mushroom cloud in here.”

“We’re fine,” Vivian said.

“Mike?” Manon came up to the couch. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” And for the first time in a very long time, it was true. Mike knew she and Vivian had a long way to go before they would trust each other completely, and neither of them had mentioned the word “love.” But for Vivian to take back her vow to bow out of their relationship was a huge step forward.
If I only could share how you make me feel, the magic we create and how it affects me. Can I ever dare ask you if you sense it as well?

Mike knew how new and fragile such emotions were. She was willing to do almost anything for Vivian, and now she felt more confident that Vivian would never ask her to do anything uncomfortable. Brenda hadn’t been as considerate, which had nearly destroyed Mike.

“Time to go. Mike has to get back upstairs and I have to write my resignation,” Eryn said as she returned from the bathroom.

“Didn’t your boss give you a leave of absence?” Manon sounded surprised.

“Nope. He tried to bluff me into staying, but I just said, ‘I quit, Harold,’ and walked out. I have enough vacation to cover the next few weeks. He probably won’t give me very good references, but since I’ll be busy for several years, I don’t care. I’ll be fine.”

“Good for you.” Mike smiled and got up. Only a few days earlier, Eryn had been worried and felt manipulated. Now she was eager to start. Mike dried her eyes, hugged both of her friends before they left, then turned back to Vivian. “Why don’t you stay here until I take care of the afternoon crowd and can walk you home?”

“Sounds good. Will you come back to the beach house later tonight?”

“Yes.”

Vivian beamed and extended her hand. “A kiss?”

Mike smiled at how breathless she became at Vivian’s request. She kneeled on the couch and kissed her with all the tenderness she could muster. “Want to listen to the radio while I’m working?”

“No. I’ll just sit here and remember our jam session. It was extraordinary, wasn’t it?”

Mike let her eyes rake over Vivian, memorizing the beautiful features, and inhaled her distinctive scent of flowers and musk. “Extraordinary.”

*

Eryn sat up in bed, ramrod straight, uncertain what had woken her up. The phone on her nightstand rang, making her jump, and she fumbled for the receiver in the moonlit bedroom. “Hello?” She looked at the alarm clock, barely able to see it without her glasses. 4:23 a.m.
Who the hell…?

“Eryn, this is Manon.”

Wide-awake in an instant, Eryn clutched the phone. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got a call from East Quay Memorial. It’s Marjorie.”

“What’s happened?” Eryn’s mind raced.

“She collapsed last night and the staff took her to the ER. She’s asked for us.”

“Us?” Eryn was already out of bed, mostly because she thought Manon needed her. “You sure?”