by M. Ullrich
“Shit,” Emma said.
“What?”
“I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.” She looked genuinely distraught over her mistake. A far cry from the version of Emma who checked them into the resort only days earlier.
Caroline laughed. “I’m fine. I could’ve gotten in line with you if I wanted.”
“I’m trying to be a good girlfriend,” Emma said, looping her arm around Caroline’s. She took a sip of her iced concoction.
Caroline watched Emma wrap her plump lips around the straw. She allowed herself one indulgent second before looking away. She wouldn’t forget how soft those lips were. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know.”
“I know, but I don’t think asking if you want a coffee before I order mine is trying hard.” Emma tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, an awkward move because their arms were linked, but she made it work. “So where are we off to? Please don’t tell me we’re going to a seminar on the history of Florida or marriage or anything like that. I’ll need two more of these.” She held up her coffee.
“No. We’re actually leaving the resort and going to a small bookstore nearby.”
Emma turned her head and looked at her skeptically. “A bookstore?”
“Yes. I already ordered an Uber.” They stood outside in the humid evening. “It’s only a ten-minute drive. We could’ve walked, but the weather has been so iffy today. I didn’t want to risk it.”
“And what is it that we’ll be doing in this bookstore?” Emma had yet to move her arm. Their skin grew tacky, but neither seemed to mind.
“They’re having a queer poetry night,” Caroline said quietly. She had wanted to wait to tell Emma, too afraid she’d run from the idea.
Emma stared at her for a minute that seemed to stretch on forever. Finally, she whispered, “I love poetry.”
Caroline looked up at her in surprise. Their height difference put her eyes level with Emma’s lips. “You do?”
“I do.”
A black sedan pulled up and honked. Caroline jumped slightly and checked to make sure the license plate on her phone matched the car “This is us,” she said.
They got in the car and sat silently for most of the ride, which was neither awkward nor comfortable. The radio seemed too loud in the space. Miami was alive at night, even on a Wednesday. The neon lights highlighted Emma’s face with a rainbow as she looked out the window.
“I used to write poetry,” she said.
Emma’s hand rested on the seat between them. She wanted to hold it but didn’t. “Why did you stop?”
“I got busy.” Emma turned away from the window and looked at her. “I could keep up with writing when I traveled for fun, but when traveling became work, I had to focus on taking notes. Then my photography took off and yet another thing started to occupy my time.”
“What were your poems about?” Caroline said, wondering what other surprises Emma had up her sleeves.
“Everything, anything, and nothing sometimes. After my aunt died, they were all angry and morose. They lightened up as I began to heal.”
“Ever write love poems?”
“No,” Emma said with a smile so much more complicated than her one-word answer. “That’s a level of vulnerability I’ve yet to share with a pen and paper.”
“Have you ever been in love?” Caroline couldn’t believe her sudden brazenness. She was losing herself to the give and take she and Emma had established.
Emma let her head fall back on the seat, closed her eyes, and smiled. She looked like she had just tasted the sweetest fruit on earth. “A few times, but it’s more likely for me to fall in love with a place instead of a person.”
“Who was the last person you loved?”
“Chelsea.” Emma rolled her head to the side and looked at Caroline with soft eyes. “She taught me everything I know about photography and was the one who encouraged me to sell my travel shots.”
“How long ago was that?”
“A few years now.”
“What happened?”
The car came to a stop, and the driver announced they had arrived. Caroline didn’t want the conversation to end there. She grabbed her small purse, fished out some cash, and tipped the driver. Emma was out of the car before Caroline had finished.
“Wow,” Emma said, looking up at the bright storefront in front of her. “You said bookstore, and I assumed a small neighborhood space.”
“It is pretty nice.” Caroline noticed a small line forming at the front door. “Looks like we got here just in time.”
They were ushered into the store and directed to the far corner where chairs were set up around a small platform. The accumulating, diverse crowd took up most seats. Emma shifted her chair closer to Caroline and laid her arm across the back of Caroline’s.
Caroline noticed couples of all ages canoodling, which meant they’d fit right in. But they didn’t have to fit in, not here. They didn’t have to act. Caroline didn’t want Emma to feel like she had to keep the charade up, even if she was starting to get used to it.
“You don’t have to,” she said, motioning to Emma’s arm, “since we’re not at the resort anymore.”
Emma looked at her arm. “Oh. Yeah. Right.” She pulled her arm back and wiped her hands on her thighs.
Caroline was sure Emma’s jeans couldn’t get any tighter. She looked wonderful in them with her pink shirt that fell off her tan shoulders. Caroline turned her attention to the woman stepping up on the platform.
“Thank you all for joining us this evening,” their host said. She appeared to be in her fifties and had an eclectic style about her. Caroline liked her immediately. “We usually only hold events like this during Pride month, but we had such a great turnout last year, we decided to try it out for a few months. Tonight, we’ll be featuring poetry from local queer poets. At the end, we’ll welcome any of our listeners to come up and share their own poetry.”
Caroline turned slightly to peek at Emma’s expression. What she saw was Emma watching her instead. She turned her head back to the stage quickly. Her heart was racing.
“Without further ado, I’d like to welcome our first poet, Pearl.”
Caroline joined the crowd and applauded. She noticed the way Pearl visibly shook as she stepped onto the platform. Caroline envied the courage it took to perform, to share a piece of yourself in public the way Pearl was about to.
She sat transfixed as artist after artist took the small stage in front of them. Each poem told a story, some of pain and others of love. One of Caroline’s favorite poems came from a young man named Ben, and he told the story of a bumblebee. Caroline was sure he was the bumblebee, but it didn’t matter because the poem was beautiful. After the applause had ended following the final poet, Caroline was embarrassed to feel wetness on her cheeks. How long had she been crying?
“Poetry can be very powerful,” Emma whispered to Caroline.
When Caroline turned to respond, she was surprised to see Emma was crying, too. “It was all so beautiful.”
Emma put her arm around Caroline’s chair again as she twisted to talk to Caroline. “The thing with poetry, good poetry, is that it makes you feel. Not just with its words, but with its rhythm as well.”
“You should go up there next.”
“No,” Emma said with a laugh. “I haven’t written in years, and I definitely don’t remember any of my old stuff.”
“That’s a shame. I would’ve loved to hear one of your poems.” Caroline breathed deeply and focused on the darkening freckles on Emma’s cheeks and the way her lips parted slightly. Emma looked like she was about to speak when a voice broke the moment.
“Excuse me?” a woman behind them said. She was a young, attractive brunette, and Caroline was grateful for the interruption.
Caroline smiled. “Yes?”
“Are you Emma Morgan?”
A look of confusion and surprise overtook Caroline’s face before she could stop it. Emma got recognized in public?
/> “I am, yes,” Emma said politely.
“No way!” the young woman said louder than necessary. “I follow your travel blog and everything you put online. Your photography is amazing.”
Emma blushed and ducked her head briefly. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you to say.”
“I’m serious. You’re constantly giving me vacation ideas. Are you working now? Oh my God, is this going to be in one of your posts?” She looked positively starstruck.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Where are you staying?”
Caroline started to grow uncomfortable with the woman’s eagerness, her invasiveness, and the way she had seemed to shut Caroline out of the conversation. It was rude. She breathed more easily when she heard Emma’s answer.
“Nearby.”
“I’m from the area, and I could show you around if you’d like. There’s a lot of places around here tourists don’t know about.”
Nope, Caroline was definitely not comfortable with what was happening. “Excuse me.” She stood and left the bookstore.
“I know the best Mexican restaurant and a club that plays music from the eighties and nineties,” she continued, undeterred by Caroline’s exit.
Emma saw Caroline leave. “Go online and message me your suggestions.” She stood just as Caroline walked out the main door. “I’ll check them out the next time I’m in town.”
“I’m a great tour guide.”
Emma was unfazed by the stranger’s seductive eyes. “I appreciate that, but I don’t need a tour guide. It was nice meeting you, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” Emma rushed to the door and stepped out to find Caroline typing away on her phone. Her face was so intense, she looked like she might break her phone. “Are you calling a car?”
“Yes,” Caroline said without looking up.
“I was thinking we should walk back.”
“It’s almost an hour walk.”
“The night’s still young. Unless you have other plans?”
Caroline finally tilted her head up to shoot Emma an unamused look. “I don’t, but maybe you do.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Emma did not mind this jealous side of Caroline. Not at all. “I had plans to talk about poetry with the woman I was in there with,” Emma said, “but she disappeared after we were rudely interrupted by a stranger.”
“A pretty stranger,” Caroline said with what looked to be a small pout.
“Was she? I didn’t notice because I was in the middle of a very good conversation.”
Caroline snorted. “Listen, I know this is your thing, and it’s probably killing you you’re not getting any action on this trip, but I’m really not here to make you miserable. I just want you to do a good job and to stay out of trouble.”
Emma ignored the sting of Caroline’s words. “I always do a good job, and my thing is having a good time on a trip. That’s it. I’m really that simple.” Emma took the phone from Caroline’s hand and put it back into her purse. “Let’s walk for a little bit. We can call a car at any time.”
Caroline stared at her feet and leaned back on the heels of her classic black pumps. She swung her arms and clapped. “Fine, let’s walk for a little bit.” She set a fast pace and kept her eyes straight ahead.
“I said walk, not race.” Emma grabbed Caroline’s hand to slow her down, but Caroline pulled back. Two steps forward, three steps back. “Walk slowly and enjoy the night. We’re in Miami. Look around and take it in.” Emma raised her hands and spun in a circle. The palm trees lining the street swayed in the robust winds whipping through the night. The air was hot and heavy with moisture.
“It’s a bright city,” Caroline said.
“I love it.”
“It’s a little too loud at night for my taste.” Caroline’s words were underlined by the bass pumping from a nearby bar. “That would drive me crazy.”
Emma shook her head. “I could never live here, but it’s fun to visit. I like the peace and quiet of my apartment too much.”
“It’s hard to picture you home alone and enjoying the quiet.”
“I do usually have the radio on.”
“Ah yes, that’s right. The radio station I called.”
“101.2 was very happy to help you that day.” Emma laughed along with Caroline. “Being on the road all the time can be hectic and stressful. It’s nice to be able to relax when I’m in between.”
“What happened with Chelsea?”
“Chelsea…” Emma wasn’t sure if Caroline would bring the subject up again. Now that she had, Emma hesitated about how much to share. “I wasn’t around enough to water that pony.” Emma regretted the metaphor the moment Caroline looked at her in confusion. “I’m barely home. It’s hard to have a successful relationship that way. She needed attention I couldn’t give her.”
“That makes sense.”
“But I suppose if we loved each other enough, we could’ve made it work,” Emma said thoughtfully. A car zoomed by loudly and shattered the moment. “You should try to write poetry.”
Caroline laughed loudly. “I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a creative person. Critical, yes, but not creative.”
Emma hated the small box Caroline restricted herself within. “If you’ve never tried, you don’t know for sure. What was your favorite kind of poem tonight? Did you like the romantic ones, the deep emotional ones, or the fun ones?” Emma felt her throat tighten as her voice got louder and used her hands more as she spoke. Her passion and excitement were starting to show.
“The one about the bumblebee was my favorite, but I did love the romantic ones.”
“You should try to write a romantic poem sometime. I dare you.” Emma nudged Caroline’s elbow. “Forget trying, just do it. Put a pen to paper and write what’s in your heart. It’ll be a rush you won’t forget, I promise.”
“It won’t happen. My heart doesn’t work like yours.”
Emma stopped walking and tilted her head at Caroline’s odd choice of words. “What do you mean?”
Caroline looked momentarily frightened. “Nothing. I don’t even know why I said that. It doesn’t make any sense.” A deep roll of thunder made Caroline jump. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s fine,” Emma said as she looked at the sky. “I’m sure we have enough time for a car to get here.” A large rain drop landed in her eye. “Maybe not.”
Caroline scrambled to grab her phone just as the skies opened up. Buckets of rain poured down on them. Emma wrapped her arm around Caroline as they ran together in search of a dry alcove to hide in. They ducked under a small awning in front of a barber.
“That was unexpected. The car should get here in a few minutes.”
“And yet totally in the forecast.” Emma laughed and pushed her wet hair out of her face. She was still holding Caroline, pressing her body into the building with her own. Their breaths mingled, and Caroline’s throat flexed with a hard swallow. “They get some bad weather down here, hurricanes and all,” Emma said dumbly.
“Yeah…” Caroline licked her lips.
Emma stared down into Caroline’s dark eyes and a spark of inspiration spurred her on. “There’s a darkness I see in the corners of your mind as you speak. A mystery to me. Or maybe just a secret locked in a cage with no key.” Emma ran her fingertips along Caroline’s wet cheek. “You won’t break free. Not for me.”
Caroline blinked away a tear, but never looked away from Emma. “Wow,” she said. Her lips remained parted, trembling slightly.
“Poetry can come out of nowhere.” Emma had no control over what she did next. She leaned in and brushed her mouth over Caroline’s. She tested the softness of her moist lips before kissing her fully, framing Caroline’s face with her hands. Droplets of water fell from Caroline’s hair and ran down Emma’s wrist. Emma opened her mouth slightly to taste Caroline. She ran the tip of her tongue along the bow of Caroline’s upper lip.
Caroline put her hand aga
inst the center of Emma’s chest and pushed back. “Stop. Wh—what are you doing?” she said unsteadily. Her eyes were still closed.
“Finishing what you started earlier.” Emma leaned in again.
“What?” Caroline’s eyes were wide open now. “I didn’t start anything.”
“When you kissed me.”
“I thought you were going for a kiss because of the story and after Maria got all weird about the picture stuff.”
“I was going to whisper in your ear and you turned to kiss me.”
“I didn’t want to kiss you.”
“Ouch.” Emma stepped back and ran her fingers through her damp and tangled hair. The physical pain was a nice distraction from the kick to her ego. Their car pulled up.
“I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I got lost in the moment and put both of our jobs at risk. I’m such an idiot.” Caroline sounded panicked. “I can’t be a consolation prize for you just because you’re not allowed to sleep with anyone else. This is work, and whatever just happened needs to be forgotten.”
The car honked, and they both turned their heads.
Caroline looked back at Emma with wide, shimmering eyes. “You can’t tell anyone, please.”
Emotions warred inside Emma’s chest, but all she could focus on was comforting Caroline. “Of course,” she said. She watched Caroline rush off to the car the moment she gave her word.
Emma prepared herself for what would definitely be a tense car ride and a night spent in a quiet hotel suite. She wondered if being suffocated was ever a part of Caroline’s detailed itinerary. She laughed bitterly as she dashed out into the pouring rain.
Chapter Fifteen
Caroline regretted ever agreeing to allow Emma to pick their activities. But after an uncomfortable night and an even more unpleasant morning of silence and cold shoulders, Caroline was willing to do just about anything to regain a bit of the easiness she had grown accustomed to. She missed actually feeling like she was on vacation.