“We made that,” Esther says.
She reaches down and grabs Jesse’s hand. In the cool night air, her hand is warm and dry, and her grip is strong.
Esther looks at Jesse admiringly. Under her gaze, Jesse feels her chin lift. She feels her shoulders straighten. She feels strong, and strange, and beautiful.
“Hey, you want to dance one dance before you take over the birdhouse?” Esther suggests, tugging Jesse toward the tent. “Don’t be scared. It’s totally cool and non-gender-oppressive in there.”
Esther pulls Jesse from the chilly dark into the warmth and noise and jostle of the dance floor. She takes hold of both of her hands, and spins her around like a little kid. They go faster and faster. Esther laughs. Jesse laughs. When Jesse looks up, the glittering lights of the tent blur above her like the stars of the universe.
Acknowledgments
Thank you Joy Peskin, the wisest, kindest, fiercest, smartest, most patient, most uncompromising, funniest editor a writer could have.
Thank you Kendra Levin, the Story Whisperer.
Thank you Janet Pascal and Susan Jeffers, astute, assiduous, astonishingly knowledgeable copyeditors.
Thank you Merrilee Heifetz, superagent.
Thank you Katie George and Steve George, Jenny George and Kate Carr, wonderful family.
Thank you 13P, New Dramatists, New York Writers Coalition, and Brooklyn Writers Collaborative, support networks and inspiration sources.
Thank you Matt Longabucco and Carley Moore, best friends and favorite poets.
Thank you Malka Longabucco, curiosity engine, speed demon, comedian.
Thank you Lisa Kron, brave, brilliant, beautiful, beloved.
The Difference Between You and Me Page 19