by Karis Walsh
The other three members of her quartet came up the aisle together and settled in their usual seats. David turned to Andy and launched into one of his routine pre-wedding jokes, but his voice faded to a stop when he met her eyes.
“Shit, darling, who died?” he asked.
Richard shook his head in disapproval. “Her self-respect did.”
“Not Lyssa again?” Tina asked. “She give you a rough night?”
“I haven’t seen Lyssa in a week,” Andy said, rosining her bow for the fourth time since she had arrived at the church. She took a soft cloth out of her case and gently wiped off the excess. “Did you notice if the bride is here yet?” she asked nonchalantly.
No one answered immediately, and Andy looked up from her bow to find the three of them staring at her.
“‘The bride?’ Oh my God,” Tina gasped. “You slept with October Fifth!”
Andy stared at her, too shocked that anyone could have guessed her secret to formulate a denial. “Shut up,” she said, glancing at the sanctuary doors to make sure no one could have overheard Tina’s loud statement.
“You really will do anything to keep the brides happy, won’t you, Andy dear?” David laughed with delight. Richard seemed too stunned to speak.
“All of you, shut up!” Andy repeated. “I’ll be right back.”
She started up the aisle, but Tina followed and grabbed her arm. She spoke in a low voice. “Seriously, Andy, tell me you didn’t.”
Andy just shook her head and stared up at a stained-glass window. She wasn’t a regular at church, but she had a pretty good idea that her conduct didn’t fall in the acceptable category. “It just happened,” she finally admitted. “I met Brooke last night at Mickey’s, and we sort of ended up going back to my place.”
“She was at Mickey’s? She’s a lesbian?”
“No. I don’t know,” Andy said. “She called and said she wanted to talk, and that’s where I was going.”
“Oh,” Tina said with an understanding nod. “She was looking for one last great orgasm before settling down for fifty years of marriage. Typical curious straight girl, I suppose, looking for her fun and then it’s over. Been there. Would she even touch you?” she asked with curiosity.
“God, Tina, it wasn’t like that at all.” Brooke may have been inexperienced, but she was certainly not selfish. And after a little practice she had handled Andy’s body like a pro. Andy felt her cheeks redden slightly under Tina’s scrutiny.
Tina’s voice changed with sympathy. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you. How is she feeling about all of this?”
“She left early this morning,” Andy said, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “I need to talk to her before the rehearsal.”
“Go,” Tina said, giving her a little push toward the doors. “I’ll stay here and administer CPR to Richard. He expects this kind of behavior from me, not you, Ms. Propriety.”
Andy pushed through the growing crowd of guests and, after questioning a woman in a lilac silk dress who appeared to be a bridesmaid, found herself at the door of the Sunday school room that was being used for the bridal party. She hesitated before knocking, unsure about the reaction she would get from Brooke. Indifference? Tears? Regret? She didn’t know this woman, not really, but she knew from experience that a connection like this didn’t come along every day, or every lifetime. They couldn’t just walk away from it without at least discussing what had happened between the two of them. Feeling more sure of herself, Andy finally knocked on the door.
An older woman answered her knock, clearly disapproving of the interruption. “Yes, can I help you?”
Brooke’s mother, Andy figured. She was about to ask for Brooke when she looked past the woman and saw her standing by the window with another couple of bridesmaids. Andy had seen her share of brides in wedding gowns, many of them admittedly sexy, but she had never had one take her breath away. Even in the incongruous setting with its tiny chairs and posters of cartoon Bible scenes and scriptures on the walls, Brooke was gorgeous. The strapless dress was heavy with beadwork and flared out slightly at her hips, accentuating the curves and softness that Andy remembered so well. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, and she stood staring at the bride while her traitorous mind wondered how she could get Brooke out of that dress without resorting to scissors.
“It’s all right, Mom,” Brooke said smoothly. “Andy is a friend of mine. Her quartet is playing today. Can you give us a few minutes to talk?”
Brooke’s mother’s gaze swept over Andy, taking in her short hair and the black satin pantsuit with the open-collared tuxedo shirt underneath that was her standard wedding attire. Fitted enough to look slightly feminine, it made no pretense of being girly. Andy could almost hear the judgments being formed in the woman’s mind as she reluctantly stepped aside to let Andy enter the room.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me, darling,” she said to Brooke as she and the other women left.
Andy and Brooke stared at each other for a long moment. Brooke’s eyes were icy blue again in the autumn sunlight that streamed through the window, and Andy couldn’t read any expression in them.
Finally she cleared her throat self-consciously. “What does she think I’m going to do to you?” she asked, gesturing with her head toward the door.
“Don’t be silly,” Brooke said, maintaining that maddeningly aloof air. “She just wants to be sure nothing spoils the day.”
“And I might spoil it?” Andy asked with sadness.
Brooke shook her head, whether in denial or irritation Andy couldn’t tell. “Why are you here?”
“To play my viola at your wedding rehearsal.”
“Don’t,” Brooke said sharply. “Why are you here?” she repeated, gesturing around the room.
Andy sighed in frustration. This day, and this conversation, weren’t going at all as she had expected. She took a step toward Brooke, needing to know that this ice princess was the same warm woman who had shared her bed last night. Brooke had half a step to back up before she bumped into the wall, and Andy saw a flicker of worry in her eyes. At least that was something. She finished crossing the empty space between them and raised a finger to trace along the neckline of Brooke’s dress.
“Jesus,” she breathed. “You are so beautiful.”
Brooke inhaled sharply at her touch and raised her hand to Andy’s. She meant to push her away, but instead their fingers entwined, and she pressed their joined hands to her breast.
She didn’t resist when Andy leaned forward and their lips met. The kiss seared her soul, bringing back all of the passion from the night before in a rush. When Andy moved her mouth away, Brooke gave a ragged cry of protest that turned to a sigh as Andy rained kisses along her collarbone and over the slight swell of her breasts.
Brooke laced her fingers in Andy’s soft hair, tugging to bring her mouth back to her own. She parted her lips, and when Andy’s tongue slid into her mouth she sagged against the wall feeling a rush of wanting, of wetness.
“No. No!” she gasped. She had struggled all day to strengthen her resolve to marry Jake, but having Andy so close, touching her, threatened all of Brooke’s carefully reasoned arguments for going through with the wedding. She needed space if she was going to stay strong, and she pushed Andy’s shoulders away. Her hands felt too weak to be effective, but Andy stepped back at the light touch. They both raised fingers to their lips as if in disbelief at their own responses.
“Tell me that means nothing to you, that you don’t feel anything when I touch you,” Andy said. Brooke glanced at the door, worried her mother would hear even though Andy kept her voice low. Her breathing was fast, her throat warm from Andy’s kisses and her own arousal. She remained silent, though, and Andy pushed on.
“I know last night was your first time with a woman, but you have to realize that what we shared was special. How can you just turn your back on it like it didn’t happen?”
Brooke’s eyes flashed with anger. “But one night of sex and
you expect me to turn my back on Jake, on my family? A couple of orgasms and you want me to walk away from a fiancé who loves me, a church full of my friends and family, a wedding that cost thousands of dollars?”
“It was more than that and you know it,” Andy said, her hands gentle as she slid them along Brooke’s waist even though her voice was rough with emotion. “There’s something between us, and I think we should explore it. All I’m asking is some time for us to—”
“To what?” Brooke spit out angrily. “To date? Sorry, Jake, but we need to postpone the wedding so I can go for dinner and a movie with one of the musicians. Would your quartet give us a discount if we reschedule?”
Andy dropped her hands and stepped away from Brooke again. “Uncalled for,” she said, her eyes full of sorrow.
Brooke wouldn’t let herself be swayed. She hated to watch herself hurt Andy, but there was no other way to make her leave. Brooke had gotten an answer to a question she had wondered about repeatedly today, she thought to herself bitterly. She now knew Andy was as moved by last night as she had been. But she couldn’t risk trusting her own judgment again, no matter how much her body protested. “I am not a lesbian. Nothing will change that fact, even if I wasn’t getting married tomorrow.”
Andy snorted. “I guess the big white dress and the male groom should have tipped me off,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I must have been confused by the way you were screaming my name last night.”
“I would deny that, but I’m sure your neighbors can corroborate your story,” Brooke said with as much dignity as she could muster.
Andy looked at the bride in amazement. “That was a joke?” she asked in disbelief, a small smile playing over her lips. Brooke shrugged, carefully schooling her features to keep her answering smile hidden.
“So what was it?” Andy asked, more softly this time. “A fling? Curiosity? A sexy story to tell Jake some day?”
“All of those, I guess,” Brooke admitted, looking out the window. She turned her head and gazed directly into Andy’s eyes. “But you shattered me,” she said, so quietly that Andy barely could hear. “I knew it would feel good to be with you, but you shattered me.”
Andy reached out, but Brooke shook her head and sidestepped her touch. There was a quick tap on the door before it opened, and Brooke’s mother stuck her head inside.
“Darling, we really need to start the rehearsal,” she said, glancing from Brooke to Andy. “Is everything all right?”
Brooke didn’t seem able to speak, so for the second time that day Andy answered that question with a lie.
“Everything is fine.”
*
Andy somehow made it through the rehearsal, relying on muscle memory and habit to get her through the luckily familiar music. She faltered only once, when Brooke appeared at the head of the aisle with her father. She had changed from her wedding gown to a rose-colored dress that matched the flush Andy had brought to her skin when, only minutes before, she had scattered kisses across a soft, bare throat. Tina kicked her in the shin, and she jolted back to awareness in time to join the quartet for the wedding march. She kept her face composed while Brooke quietly but steadily recited her vows and pretended to slip a ring on Jake’s finger. She imagined Tina watching her with sympathy, Richard with anxiousness, and David with hopeful anticipation, but she managed to remain silent when the minister asked if there were any objections, keeping her eyes focused on Brooke’s back. She raised her viola and joined the others as they played the measured beats of Beethoven for the recessional, unable to watch Brooke walk away from the altar on Jake’s arm.
Chapter Six
Brooke wasn’t sure how she made it through the rehearsal without fainting. She could feel Andy’s eyes on her the entire time, and she couldn’t make herself look at the quartet when they played. If their gazes met, she knew she would no longer be able to control her expression. Jake, her family, everyone would see what she felt for this woman who was virtually a stranger to her. So she did what she did best and let her mind disconnect from her surroundings and let her body endure the mock ceremony, as if on autopilot. It was easier than usual since no part of her felt familiar, from her professionally done hair and makeup to the stiffly formal dress she wore.
Last night hadn’t felt familiar either, yet it had seemed so natural to be with Andy, to touch her and taste her, to open herself up to this unknown woman. If they had met under different circumstances, maybe they could have tried to form a relationship out of their mutual attraction. But Brooke stood in the church surrounded by the people closest to her. If she chose to leave Jake, she could lose them all. Her conservative parents and relatives and even the bridal party, most of whom had been friends with Jake before they welcomed her into their circle. Everyone except Jan, who sat alone in the back row. Was it worth it just to embrace an unconventional lifestyle, an unknown future, a sexy violist with gold-flecked hazel eyes that blazed when they looked at her naked body?
Okay, maybe she shouldn’t be thinking of words like naked, Brooke decided. But while the quartet played “Ave Maria” during a pause in the ceremony, Brooke focused on the viola’s deep harmony and allowed her mind to touch gently on the previous night. Cautiously, guarding against a rush of emotion, she let herself remember the less passionate, but oh-so-tender moments. The whisper of Andy’s breath as she nuzzled Brooke’s ear, the gentle twining of hands as they rested close to each other, the few beautiful minutes of waking up in Andy’s arms before she had to slip out of bed and back into her world. She smiled, and Jake grinned back at her, his face full of love and possessiveness.
Brooke passively recited her vows, and she could have been repeating words in Swahili for all she knew. She had a moment of frantic hope that Andy would speak up when the minister asked for objections, but the run-through of the ceremony was concluded without a single discordant note. Before she realized it was over, Jake was kissing her while she fought not to turn her head away. Then a blur of faces as they walked up the aisle, a hug from her tearful mother, a crowd of people with questions about the next day. Brooke suffered through it all with the appropriate smile on her face, but her eyes scanned the room anxiously as she hoped for one final glimpse of Andy.
*
Brooke picked listlessly at her lasagna, weary from hours of pushing away thoughts of Andy and pretending to be the happy bride. The effort of it all was starting to wear on her, and all she wanted to do was find someplace to sleep.
“What are you doing here?” Evelyn asked sharply, taking the empty chair next to her daughter.
“It’s the wedding party’s table. I’m eating my dinner,” Brooke answered grimly. Apparently her mother’s tears and smiles were spent for the night.
“Why are you doing this to me? Can’t you look happy for just one day?”
Evelyn tended to turn any sign of her daughter’s moodiness into a personal insult. Although Brooke was accustomed to these criticisms, they still managed to make her feel more exhausted than before. It felt like the blood in her veins was turning to lead, and she fought the urge to lay her head on the table and close her eyes. That’d give her mother a stroke.
“I’m just tired,” Brooke said, her usual response to her mom’s accusations.
“Well, your father spent a lot of money on this rehearsal dinner, and all of these people took the time to come see you. The least you can do is visit with them. Now get up and talk to your Uncle Lewis. Oh, wait, here comes Jake. Do try to act happy for once.”
Brooke was relieved to see Jake coming to rescue her from sweaty Uncle Lewis, but that relief was short-lived.
“Brooke, baby, the photographer is waiting for us. I want some pictures of us with my family.”
He gestured toward a table where his parents and grandparents were clustered. In a feeling that was all too familiar, her exhaustion lifted and was immediately replaced by anxiety. She wiped suddenly sweaty palms on her dress as she looked around desperately for a way to escape.
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br /> “Bathroom,” she said, and then repeated in a calmer voice. “I need to go to the bathroom first. I’ll hurry,” she assured Jake and her mother.
“Is everything all right, dear?” Evelyn asked.
“Of course. Look, there’s Jan. She can go with me,” Brooke said when she saw her old college roommate heading toward them. Jan had her coat over her arm and was obviously coming to say good-bye, but Brooke grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the front of the restaurant.
“Come with me, please,” she whispered, tugging a surprised Jan along with her and ignoring her mother’s disapproving stare.
“Where are we going?”
“The bathroom,” hissed Brooke.
She led Jan into the handicapped stall and locked the door, sagging against it with a relieved sigh.
Jan looked confused. “So, um, do you need help getting out of that thing?” she asked gamely, plucking at the top layer of Brooke’s full skirt. “I’ve heard those nylons can be tricky.”
Brooke lightly swatted her hand away with a short laugh. “I don’t need to pee. I just wanted to talk.”
“Thank God,” Jan said, leaning against the wall facing Brooke. “You look a bit shell-shocked. Do you want me to explain what to expect on your wedding night?” she teased.
Brooke genuinely smiled for the first time that day. “Thanks for coming all this way,” she said, ignoring the reference to sex with her husband. She had been surprised that Jan had accepted her invitation, the only one she had sent to anyone from her old college days. “It means a lot to me.”
Jan shrugged. “It’s only a five-hour drive from Spokane. It was worth it to see you so…happy? Is that the look you’re going for?”
Brooke grimaced. “Of course I’m happy. Thrilled, as a matter of fact. The luckiest woman in the world.”
Jan laughed and held up her hands in surrender. “Well, you’ve certainly convinced me.” She shook her head sadly and her voice became serious. “All right, spill it.”