by Dana Piccoli
She cut through the throngs of tourists, slipping down lesser populated streets. When she was a young singer, living on dollar dumplings from Chinatown and sleeping on an air mattress, she would walk the streets of the city to clear her head—The Upper East Side, with its streets lined with brownstones and beautiful architecture. Chelsea, with its beautiful boys and ever-changing facades. Wherever her feet would take her, she would go. So, with her head pounding and her heart aching, she walked. By the time she reached the inlet to Central Park, she felt lighter. No more Melissa. She was going to leave those thoughts in Strawberry Fields. She’d go on tour like Oliver and the label wanted, and she’d make a new record. But first, she was going to find herself some inspiration, and she had a good idea where to start.
Chapter Ten
Touché was buzzing that night. Nat could feel the energy when she walked in the door. People laughed and music flowed soft and seamless. She scanned the restaurant and found it had an open kitchen. She had planned to send a note back to Maddy about her certain-to-be-a-lovely meal, but it turned out to be unnecessary. Maddy was standing right behind a chef’s island, surrounded by seating, preparing desserts for the entire world to see. The host checked Nat’s name off the reservation list and led her to a table near the back of the restaurant. She gently touched his arm.
“Excuse me, I don’t suppose there’s an available seat near the kitchen?” She motioned to where Maddy was standing.
“Certainly, Miss. Follow me.”
Maddy was absorbed in a very delicate plating of dessert as Nat saddled up to the island. Maddy carefully garnished the plate and presented it to a waiter, her red hair in a side braid and held back by a black bandana. Nat swallowed. There was just something about a side braid.
Maddy watched him take away her masterpiece and then turned her head to greet the new customer who had arrived at her station: Nat Chambers. She shook her head and smiled. “You came,” she said cheerfully as she wiped her hands on a nearby towel.
“Well you said huckleberries so how could I stay away?” Nat joked. Her heart began to quicken it’s beat in her chest. “By the way, what’s a huckleberry?”
Maddy leaned across the island, their hands wonderfully close. “I’m so glad you’re here. I had a really nice time with you yesterday and I felt so stupid that I didn’t ask for your number. I was worried that I might not see you again.”
“Well, I wasn’t about to let that happen.”
“I get off in an hour…keep me company?”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I’d love to.”
Maddy lit up and drummed her fingers on the island. “You hungry?”
“Always.” She smiled. “I too have a sweet tooth and I heard the pastry chef here is pretty amazing. Any recommendations?”
Maddy giggled. “Yeah, I think I can arrange something special.” She began creating the most beautifully elaborate dessert Nat had ever seen. Maddy’s hands were magic as she whipped and whisked, sliced and arranged. She placed the plate in front of Nat, who sat slack jawed at the presentation.
“It’s stunning.”
“No, it’s huckleberry,” laughed Maddy. “This is an entrement of huckleberry with pomegranate and orange blossom crème. It’s served with a huckleberry gastrique and a cannel of brown sugar gelato. It’s kind of my version of a deconstructed huckleberry pie.”
“You are amazing. I mean, it’s amazing.” She blushed at her own forwardness.
Maddy blushed in return and gestured for her to try it. “Try to get a little of everything on the spoon.”
She complied and put a masterful spoonful in her mouth. She closed her eyes as it covered her taste buds. Sweet, rich, and tart all at the same time. She imagined this was what it was like to kiss Maddy and her skin erupted into goose bumps. She looked into Maddy’s eyes and simply responded, “Mmm.”
Maddy smiled broadly, looking pleased with herself.
Throughout the next hour, the two exchanged flirtatious small talk while Maddy attended to the other desserts. As Maddy’s shift ended, she shook hands with a few of the guests and mouthed to Nat, “one second” before she disappeared behind a set of swinging doors. A few moments later she reappeared, her hair uncovered, wearing a pair of blue corduroys and a white Henley top that hugged her frame perfectly. She called behind her, “Night, guys!”
A chorus of, “Night, Chef!” followed her out the door.
It was still quite chilly at night but Nat actually found it refreshing. Between the warm restaurant and her skin being constantly flushed in Maddy’s presence, the cool air was a welcome relief.
Maddy turned to Nat, a bit of a swing in her step. “Thank you for coming in tonight. I was really excited to see you sitting there. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to walk a girl home? I only live a few blocks away.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Nat eagerly responded, offering her arm.
They passed a small hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant, and Maddy asked, “Have you ever been there before?” Nat shook her head no. “They have the most amazing margaritas and salsa you’ll want to absolutely bathe in. Maybe I can take you there sometime.”
“I would like that. It’s been a while since I had a bath, so I’m down.”
She laughed and squeezed Nat’s arm tighter as they walked. They passed a few bars, rowdy patrons enjoying the cool, spring night.
A slightly intoxicated girl saw Nat and leaned over to her friend and whispered loudly, “Holy shit, I think that’s Nat Chambers.”
Nat gave the girl a quick nod, then returned her attention to Maddy, who pointed out a few other choice haunts in the neighborhood. She came to a stop in front of a nicely maintained, yet unassuming apartment building.
“This is me,” she declared with an exaggerated sweeping motion of her arm. She took a step closer to Nat and reached her hand into Nat’s pocket, pulling out her phone. Nat’s pulse jumped. Maddy proceeded to type her number into the phone. “And this is also me,” she said, handing the phone back to Nat. Their fingers touched as they passed the phone and Nat could feel the electricity between them like a static charge.
“Thanks,” she managed to squeak.
“I googled you,” Maddy said softly. “When you told me your name, I thought it sounded familiar. So, I looked you up. And you…” She lifted her hand and gently prodded Nat in the shoulder with her index finger. “…are some kind of famous musician, aren’t you?”
“The level of my celebrity has been greatly exaggerated. I’m just a girl with a guitar who got lucky. Most people don’t recognize me anyway.”
“That girl outside the bar did.” Maddy smiled and ran her hand down the length of Nat’s leather jacket.
“Ahh, you caught that then?”
“Uh huh.” Maddy stepped even closer, her eyes flashing between Nat’s lips and her eyes. Nat felt an ache in the back of her throat, and she closed the space between them.
“Can I see you again?” Nat whispered. Maddy answered her with a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Here, this is for you.” Maddy handed Nat a small, paper bag. “This is what I make for the staff. It’s my favorite recipe. If you want to get to know me, then this is a good start. Forget about all the technique and elaboration. No matter what I do, or where I go, this is who I really am deep down.” She touched the side of Nat’s face. “Good night.”
With that, Maddy turned, bounced up the steps and disappeared through the doors of the building. Nat held the paper bag in her trembling hand as she began walking toward the subway. She reached inside, and there was one, still warm, chocolate chip cookie. She lifted it to her lips and bit down on the chewy, crispy goodness. She could taste the butter and brown sugar, the chocolate melting on her tongue. It was so beautiful in its simplicity, crafted with absolute care. It was the best damn cookie she’d ever tasted. She bounded down the subway steps, a sugar rush of adrenaline carrying her.
Chapter Eleven
Over the next few days, Nat and Madd
y texted and chatted on the phone. Maddy was unveiling a new menu at the restaurant and was swamped, and Nat was trying to get all of her ducks in a row before the Euro tour was upon her. While the women didn’t see each other, they flirted and kept up with each other with texts and phone calls. Nat told her bandmates all about the beautiful chef, and they teased her for her apparently endearing clumsiness.
Then one morning Nat woke up with a tickle in her throat. It was a familiar feeling, one she knew and dreaded. A couple hours later at rehearsals, she began to get hoarse. By evening her voice was reduced to a barely audible squeak. She had acute laryngitis.
The next day also happened to be her twenty-ninth birthday. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was some psychosomatic response to growing older and still not feeling completely in control of her future. Whatever the reason, she canceled her birthday dinner with Paul, Jackie and their friends, and turned off the ringer of her phone. If she was going to wallow, she was going to do it properly. She and Eddie burrowed themselves into the couch and fell asleep, Antiques Roadshow playing softly in the background.
She woke with a start when Eddie unceremoniously used her as a springboard. She rubbed her eyes and realized there was a soft knock at the door. Damn it, Paul. She got up, running her hands through her hopeless hair. She undid the latch and much to her surprise, there stood Maddy, shopping bags in her hands. Nat opened her mouth to speak, but Maddy lifted her hand.
“No, you don’t have to say a word. Paul told me all about it.”
Nat looked at her curiously.
As if reading Nat’s mind, Maddy continued. “Paul and Jackie showed up at the restaurant last night to catch a late dinner and told me you weren’t feeling well. And that today is your birthday…which you neglected to mention. I thought I’d stop by and check on you. Paul told me where you lived. So, this isn’t technically creepy, right?”
She started to laugh, covering her mouth when a squeak escaped. Maddy smiled a hopeful smile at her. “So, here I am. With things!” She lifted her bags. “Happy birthday Nat. Can I come in?”
She gestured for Maddy to enter and she breezed in and set her bags on the coffee table. “Here,” she said as she pulled a small, white dry erase board out of one of the bags. “It’s so you can write what you want to say because I’m a terrible lip reader. Can you have wine?” she asked, holding up a bottle of delicious Malbec.
Nat scribbled away and lifted the board to Maddy. I don’t see why not. She signed it with a smiley face.
“Great, because this stuff is amazing. I swiped it from the back bar. Don’t tell anyone.” Maddy lifted a finger to her lips.
Beautiful and a rebel.
Maddy bit her lip and continued riffling through her bag. “It’s not much, but I just don’t think it’s right to have a birthday without a birthday cake.” She pulled out a small, simply decorated chocolate cake with the words Happy Birthday Natalia on it. “Ooh, and I have candles too!”
Nat looked at the cake and then looked at Maddy, and her heart set to bursting.
“Your first name is Natalia, right? I double checked with Paul, but I was worried he was pulling my leg.”
The pen squeaked across the board. Yes, It’s Natalia. Hardly anyone calls me that, but I like the way it sounds when you say it.
“Good, because I like the way it sounds when I say it. Like a secret. Something special.” Maddy looked at her, and for a moment, she thought she should stride across the living room and kiss her. Her nerves got the best of her, though, and she stayed near the arm of the couch. Eddie swooped in to sniff and survey Maddy, who crouched down to greet him and scratch his chin. He purred and threw himself at her feet.
Wow! He hates everyone but me.
Maddy rubbed Eddie’s belly and said, “Well, then look who made a new friend tonight.”
Maddy grabbed two wineglasses hanging from a shelf in the kitchen and made her way to the couch and poured them each a healthy glassful. They sat next to each other, Nat’s knee almost pressing against Maddy’s. Maddy took the lead, telling stories about the restaurant, the craziness that happens behind the scenes. She asked Maddy simple questions, ones she could answer easily via the board.
“How long have you been playing guitar?”
Since I was twelve. My parents made me take piano. Hated it. But learned a lot. Begged for a guitar. Got one and never put it down.
“What’s your background? I mean, Chambers… What’s that?”
Brazilian on my mom’s side. Dad’s English and Scottish. You?
Maddy tugged at a red curl. “Well, Irish, which I’m sure comes as a total shocker, and French. When did you know you were…”
Gay?
“Ha, you’re getting fast with that. Well I didn’t want to assume how you labeled yourself, if at all.”
I’m fine with gay, lesbian, queer. Smiley face. Seventeen.
Maddy smiled a sad smile. “Same sort of. I think I always knew. Even from a young age, but it was a secret I held very close.”
Now two glasses of wine in, Nat twirled a strand of Maddy’s curly red hair between her fingers. She moved her hand across Maddy’s beautiful face and traced her jawline, her lips, and the bridge of her nose. Maddy closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, which caused Nat’s stomach to knot in the best possible way. She ran her thumb across the small, white scar that ran through Maddy’s eyebrow, and she shivered in response.
How did you get that scar?
Maddy was silent for a bit, and Nat became nervous that she had made Maddy uncomfortable. Maddy picked up her wineglass and took a long sip. “I grew up in a small town in Montana. It wasn’t exactly the ideal place for a little lesbian growing up. I did my best to stay under the radar. More importantly, my father’s radar. I got good grades, I went to church three times a week, and I worked every summer from the age of fourteen, saving and scrimping to go to college. I always wanted to cook, to bake. I loved the mathematics of it, the consistency. I found it very grounding. My father was…” She tapped on the sides of her wineglass. “…is…very religious. My mom died when I was young, so he raised me.
“The summer after high school, I was working at the local ice cream shop and I fell in love with one of my coworkers. She was kind and funny, played on the softball team. And she was brave, oh, so fucking brave. She didn’t care who knew about her, so she told some of her friends about us. It ended up getting back to my Dad, and one night when I got back from a late night making ice cream sundaes and making out with her in the walk-in, my father was waiting for me. He was sitting in his armchair, the one no one else was allowed to sit in. ‘A man’s house is his castle’ and all that nonsense. He asked me if I had sinned against our Lord. I told him that no, I had not because in my heart, I knew I hadn’t. He got out of his chair and walked toward me and asked me again. ‘Madeline, have you sinned against this family and our Lord?’ I began to cry. He told me that he’d spoken to my girlfriend’s parents and that I was no longer permitted to see her, under any circumstances. I felt my legs weaken beneath me and I wept in the middle of our living room. When I managed to find the words, I told him God loved me and had made me in his image. That was when he slapped me.”
Nat’s heart squeezed in her chest, and she moved her hand to Maddy’s, hoping to comfort her.
“He wore this big, gold class ring, and it sliced my forehead open when he hit me. I couldn’t see. So much blood ran into my eyes. I walked into my room and packed what I could, including my passport. After he went to sleep, I left the house and I’ve never been back. I emptied my bank account, all the money I’d saved over summers and graduation gifts. I hitched a ride to the airport with a friend and I bought a one-way ticket to Paris. It just seemed so impulsive and romantic at the time, the perfect place to start a new life, you know?” Nat nodded. “So, I arrived the next day at Charles de Gaulle Airport. Oh, did I mention I didn’t speak a lick of French?”
Nat laughed silently and scribbled on her pad. C’est dommage.
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br /> Maddy smiled back. “Well, I certainly know it now. I rented a room in the 10th arrondissement from a sweet, middle-aged couple that owned a patisserie on the ground floor. After waking up day after day, smelling fresh croissants, I took it as a sign. I asked the husband if I could become his apprentice. He laughed at first. Here I was, a Midwestern girl who barely knew en haut from en bas. He eventually let me, and I learned everything you could imagine about pastry and bread. I enrolled in courses at the Institute Culinarie and became an official pastry chef. While I loved Paris and miss it terribly, I decided to try my luck in New York and eventually I made my way to Touché.” Maddy stopped and covered her face with her hands. “Oh my god, I think I just told you my life story and you didn’t even ask.”
Nat took Maddy’s hands from her face and held them in her own. Maddy’s eyes sparkled with life and Nat just wanted to gaze into them forever. Instead, she dragged her marker across the board and turned it for Maddy to see. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met. This is the best birthday ever.
Maddy laughed and her eyes welled with tears. “Ahhh.” She wiped her eyes. “We haven’t even blown out your candles yet.” She leaped from the couch and soon brought over the cake, gleaming with small, white candles. She held it in front of Nat and whispered, “Make a wish.”
Nat did, and it was the biggest, warmest wish she’d ever made. She blew out the candles and watched the smoke curl around Maddy’s face, making her look like a long-ago heroine rising through the mists. Maddy rustled through her bag and handed her a small, wrapped rectangle. Nat motioned that it wasn’t necessary, but Maddy insisted. Nat unwrapped the package to reveal a copy of Strangers in Paradise, Volume 1. She could hardly contain her glee.
“I remember reading in an interview, that Strangers in Paradise was one of your biggest influences, but you had lost all your volumes over the years. So, here’s a little something to start anew.”