Alexandra gets rid of the strap-on she had on her hips. Then she lies down, spooning Halina with her arms around her waist and pressing small kisses on her shoulder blades. She pushes Halina’s hair away from her neck and back with soft caresses. “You okay?” she whispers, hooking one leg over Halina’s thigh.
“Never better,” Halina replies as she reclines against her and lazily rocks her hips.
“Whatcha doing?”
“It’s your turn.”
“Shhh,” Alexandra whispers, putting her hand on Halina’s hip. “I am good, babe.”
Halina relaxes, impossibly pliant in her embrace. The only sound comes from outside: distant cars passing, people coming out of restaurants. Halina, hair spread on the pillow, turns to face Alexandra.
“Will you tell me how you met Leo?”
Alexandra freezes, then mirrors Halina’s posture. “You believe me now when I say it was all in his head?”
Halina wiggles, her legs stretched enticingly. “I do.”
Alexandra squints, shoulders tense until she relaxes into the pillows. “All right. Once upon a time, we met at our master’s workshop. I had just landed from the States and he from Italy. We found a kinship in both being strangers in a new country and we let the chemistry between us turn into something more physical.”
“And you didn’t introduce him to your parents?”
Alexandra sighs. “I could have, had I been completely blind to how he considered our relationship. But my dad wouldn’t have wanted me home by myself. I don’t even want to imagine how he would react if I had brought a Catholic with me…”
“You miss them,” Halina states, since the pain in Alexandra’s voice is easily readable. It’s not hard to recognize a pain she must live with every day herself, especially in someone she loves.
“Of course I do. My mother was my model when I was younger, my inspiration. I wanted to be my ima when I grew up.”
“What did she do for a living?”
“Oh, she stayed at home,” Alexandra says. “But she never made it seem to be a burden, managing everything, which included the two of us and my father, and my family in Israel, and the ones in France, and the ones in Morocco. Everything felt natural and easy, when she was in charge.”
“And you want… to be a stay-at-home mother?”
“Not sure I want to be a mother, period,” Alexandra replies truthfully. She looks at the ceiling before she turns to Halina. “Do you?”
“Want to be a mother? Not sure it would be very kind to the child,” Halina says with a strand of hair twirled around her finger. “But I suppose it could happen, with the right person… maybe adopt a kid…”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Alexandra says with a kiss. “A new side to you is always a nice surprise.”
Halina makes a doubtful sound against Alexandra’s lips. They both laugh into it; their hold on each other is tighter.
When Alexandra’s eyes are closed and soft little snores issue from her parted lips, Halina considers the words still hanging in the air. Never had she considered the possibility of motherhood. She has no idea where that came from. She glances to her left before snuggling against Alexandra, one arm wrapped around her waist.
It’s food for thought.
Ch 18
B-flat Major
Umber, Periwinkle, and Marigold
Though Alexandra doesn’t want to say she has a favorite season, she can admit she impatiently waited for spring and the warm weather to finally come back to Paris. As the days get longer, opportunities to have dinner outside with Halina are more frequent, and Alexandra makes it a personal challenge to find fun spots for picnics. The only thing she didn’t take into consideration was her own work as an obstacle.
“I hate restoration work,” she complains to Leo as she drives the car to their new contract.
He rolls his shoulders in the passenger’s seat. “I know.”
“It’s tiresome, exhausting and—”
“Unrewarding, I know.”
“Why did we take it?” She’s whining and puts her head against the steering wheel when they stop at a red light.
“Because we need to pay rent.”
“Hm.”
“And while we wait for the Philharmonie and the synagogue to bring in more clients, it’s not enough to make a living. Take a left.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Alexandra replies without any heat. “It’s not my first rodeo. Of course the road is long until we get there. It just…” She blows a raspberry. “It sucks. And on the other side of Paris, too. Transporting the panels will be a nightmare.”
“It does, and it will. We can always charge extra. We’ll get better jobs soon, just you wait.”
“Did you light a candle in church or something?”
“Nah,” Leo says with a laugh. “It’s just the way things go, the calm before the storm. Soon, we will need to get apprentices to deal with the influx of clients. And take the second exit on the piazza.”
“I guess you have a point.”
“Course I do. Now stop complaining and get us to the Signora Lagrange.”
Right this instant, Alexandra could kill her new client and feel absolutely no remorse. What possessed the young woman with too much time and money on her hands to plan a veranda for her third-floor apartment? To want it with a stained-glass ceiling is only a rotten cherry on Alexandra’s spoiled cake.
Merde, fuck, she already hates this job and everything it entails. Worse, her body hates her for it, and Alexandra begrudgingly admits that, as the saying goes, she may be too old for dealing with irritating, entitled clients under nearly impossible conditions.
The few minutes she wastes finding a parking spot near Halina’s hotel are the final push she needs to rush all the way to Halina’s door.
“Hey there,” Halina welcomes her into the room. She wears a stunning black dress, but her feet are bare.
“You have a concert tonight,” Alexandra murmurs, so tired she stumbles. “I forgot, I’m sorry, I’ll just—”
“You’ll just nothing,” Halina says with her arm around Alexandra’s waist to help her inside. “Stay here, relax, take a bath, order something from the room service, and wait for me. I’ll come back as soon as I’m not needed there.”
Alexandra nearly purrs. “Sounds nice,” she murmurs; her words are muddled as she fights to keep her eyes opened.
“What about Punshki? Is it safe to leave him alone for the night?”
“He’s at a sleepover with his buddies.”
“Good,” Halina says decisively. “I can even make the order for you, sweetheart, would you like that?”
Alexandra drops her bag and wraps her arms around Halina’s neck. “Mmm.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Halina says, softly laughing before she kisses her temple. “Come on, let’s take you to the chair.”
Alexandra lets herself sink into the cushion, toes her shoes off, and tries to shake her pants off her hips. Halina shakes her head. Her bun quivers on her nape while she dials.
“Yes, hi, this is room 1312. Good evening, Jonathan. Would you be able to—”
The rest of Halina’s discussion with the concierge blurs into fuzzy peach-color in Alexandra’s mind. She would love to listen, if only to figure out what Halina is figuratively cooking up for dinner, but she is just too tired.
It’s a battle of wills between Alexandra and her own eyelids to stay awake. She would love to unravel Halina’s carefully arranged hair and composure, wrap the soft strands of hair around her fingers, and have her wicked way with her, if she could just stay awake a little bit longer, just one more…
“There you go, honey.” Halina kneels next to Alexandra’s chair, pulls off her pants, folds them, and puts them on the footrest. “All taken care of.”
“‘S nice,” Alexandra says, valiantly standing to pull off her shirt and waistcoat in one move. “To be taken care of by you.”
Halina laughs at her antics and lightly slaps her ass. “Don’t make a habit of it.”
Alexandra manages to wobble to the bathroom. The bathtub, which has a wall-mounted TV screen installed opposite, seems to call her name. “Oh, this is gonna be good,” she whispers. “Will the concert be broadcast, too?”
“Maybe,” Halina replies, cocking her hip against the doorframe. In the mirror, Alexandra sees her observing while she takes off her underwear. “Want to catch it?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
Halina steps forward and wraps her arms around Alexandra’s shoulders; the sequins on her dress tickle Alexandra’s bare skin. “Good. I’ll be even better if I know you watch me.”
Alexandra drops her head to Halina’s shoulder and kisses the side of her neck. “Go,” she says. “You’ll be late otherwise; traffic is horrible.”
Halina sighs, squeezing her one more time before she pulls away. “You’re right. I hate how right you are. Your program sounds better than mine,” she adds with a pout.
“Liar, you love performing.”
“Only half lies, though. I’d love to stay here with you too.”
“Shoo!”
Halina blows Alexandra a kiss before stepping out of the bathroom.
“Love you.”
A pause, and Halina’s face appears once again in the doorframe. “Love you too.”
Alexandra sighs, opening the faucets to fill the bathtub. Several bottles are lined up near the sink, and she looks for a scent she’ll be happy to soak in. At the last minute, she remembers to close the door; she may be exhausted, but she won’t flash an innocent bellboy. She slowly slides into the tub.
Alexandra has a very fine shower at home, but this bath is divine. She needs to use it to the fullest and as long as she can. She slides a bit deeper into the water, grabs the remote control, and turns on the TV. Only one channel can broadcast the concert, and she switches to it.
“It’s not a concert,” Alexandra comments aloud, blinking as images of people on bicycles fill the screen.
“Never mind,” Alexandra says aloud as the voice of the narrator lulls her while she lets the oils and bubbles work their magic.
“And after a commercial break, we’ll continue this soirée of culture discoveries with the Philharmonie de Paris, for an evening with Sergei Prokofiev…”
Alexandra smiles in satisfaction and closes her eyes as the dual voices of the announcers present the upcoming program.
“That’s my girl,” she whispers as the camera pans to the orchestra. The audience is a shadow in the foreground.
* * *
The concert is a success, everyone hits their cues, and the public eats it up. Even the maestro has a nice word for her when they take their bow together. Maxime hands Halina a large bouquet of peonies.
“Wasn’t too fast for you, was it,” he asks with a smirk.
Couldn’t resist teasing me, eh, old man?
“Oh, no,” she replies, with an answering smile, “if anything, I was worried about you, my dear.”
The maestro’s expression goes cold before they turn back to the audience. The audience asks for an encore, and she has just the right piece in mind to end the evening on a happy note and shut the maestro’s mouth.
Halina sets the flowers down on the bench and exchanges an amused look with Odile. At the piano, she focuses on Alexandra waiting for her in her hotel room to interpret Moszkowski’s piece. Her fingers run across the keys to translate its energy. The music is so familiar she hasn’t needed a score for it in a long time.
As she follows the slowing rhythm of the piece, she turns to the audience with a smile, including them, but she hopes the camera is on her and that Alexandra sees it, sees her, and understands it’s all for her.
When her mind is on Alexandra, she feels full of sparks: sparks on her skin, sparks in her stomach, sparks everywhere.
The audience cheers and applauds her when she stands once again with one hand on the piano to bow. When she takes the bouquet from Odile and leads her and the rest of the orchestra off the stage before the intermission, the concertmaster comes close. “You gave us quite the performance, Hal.” Halina lifts her head proudly. “The old man is going to eat his baton.”
“It would serve him well for even doubting my ability to follow him.”
“He didn’t!”
“Oh, he sure did. Even asked me if he was not too fast for me.”
“Pff, what an idiot.” Odile takes off one heeled shoe to massage her foot. “At least we got to do the last piece together. Want to hang out in the foyer for the break?”
“Of course,” Halina replies. “But I gotta go home afterward.”
“Right, no piano for ‘Pierre et le Loup.’”
“Nope.”
“Veinarde,” Odile comments with an eye-roll as they pass the maestro on their way out. “She is waiting for you, yes?”
Halina takes her eyes off the illuminated glass panels to face the woman who has become her friend. “Yes, she should be.”
Odile puffs on her electronic cigarette as she nods. “Good, that’s good.”
“What is?”
“For you to have some… incentive, to stay in Paris.”
“I’m still weighing my options.”
“Oh, I don’t want you to refuse formidable opportunities,” Odile says, lightly touching her forearm. “But I would be sad to have to say goodbye. You’re good, Piotrowski.”
“You too, Moineau.”
“Thanks, but I meant for us, for the orchestra,” she adds with a pointed look over the rim of her glasses.
Halina nods back. “I promise you’ll be the first person I tell about my decision when I reach it.”
“You do that,” Odile replies, squaring her shoulders. “Hey, if you do leave, we’ll celebrate it properly.”
“With more lukewarm beer?”
“Non! With wine!”
Halina laughs at Odile’s offended tone. “Good to know. All you needed was the proper incentive.”
“To stay?”
“Only if we celebrate it with wine too.”
“Duly noted, Halina,” Odile replies with a wink, before shooing her away. “Now go home, before they make you stay!”
The picture Alexandra makes in her bed is adorable and too funny for Halina not to be amused, but she manages to keep her laughter silent. Alexandra clearly sleeps where she fell; damp curls frame her face and cover the pillow, while the darkness of her skin is showcased by the white sheets wrapped around her like a toga. The whole scene becomes irresistible when Halina catches its soundtrack of sleepy mumbles and soft snores.
As silently as she can, Halina undresses, lies behind Alexandra, and pulls her into a cuddle. She kisses the side of Alexandra’s neck and brushes her hand through the mess that is Alexandra’s hair.
Still asleep, Alexandra leans into her touch and scoots closer to her with a satisfied smack of her lips. Her snoring smooths into peaceful breathing.
Halina waits for sleep to find her while Odile’s words turn as a carousel of ideas she cannot stop.
* * *
“What’s this?”
Judging by their tone of voice, one would think Halina brought Ari to this restaurant in order to fight bare-handed with tarantulas.
“Dinner,” she says, deadpan. “Surely you’ve heard of it.”
“Har, har.” Ari’s shoulders don’t relax one iota. “As if that’s what I meant. Why did you bring me here to have dinner with her?”
They stand at the entrance. Halina grimaces as she follows Ari’s gaze toward Alexandra, who is not alone. The tall man who is the biggest pain in Halina’s ass sits at a table with he
r.
“She’s here so you two can get along…” Ari lets out a long, suffering sigh. “…and to give me the opportunity to get along with her best friend, too.”
The rushed words stop Ari’s antics in their tracks. “I’m your best friend?”
“Of course you are; how dare you doubt it.”
Halina steps back to let a waiter pass with a heavily loaded tray and observes the pair, who haven’t noticed them yet. Alexandra’s hands are folded on the table while she quietly talks to Leo. He pouts, and if she didn’t want to slap him, Halina might be able to accept that his could be an endearing face.
“Any tips on the best friend?”
“Hmm?”
“Very yummy. Gimme some ammunition, Halina. Be a good wingwoman for your bestie.”
“I won’t help you seduce Alexandra’s partner.”
Dark amusement takes over Ari’s features. “Partner? As in, the infamous mustache-twirling asshole?”
Halina sniffs disdainfully. “That is a goatee. He doesn’t have the refinement necessary to rock a moustache.”
“A villainous goatee doesn’t have the same ring to it.” Ari tilts their head and appraises Leo. “Not too shabby for a villain. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.”
“Ugh, come on, Ari.”
“Hey, I have eyes—and needs, too.”
“Humph.”
Ari bumps lightly into her, forcing her forward. “Maybe I can fuck his bad attitude out of him.”
“Ari Fowler, sexorcist extraordinaire?”
“The power of my ass compels you!”
They’re still laughing when they reach the table. Alexandra raises an eyebrow. “Hi,” she says as she pecks Halina’s cheek. “Good to see you in such a good mood.”
“Seeing you always puts me in a good mood, słoneczna,” Halina replies and moves her chair closer to Alexandra’s.
Leo and Ari roll their eyes at them. They can mock all they want. She wouldn’t want Ari to build a friendship with Alexandra if she wasn’t serious about her, and vice versa. Meeting Ari outside of their professional persona is her version of meeting the parents.
Concerto in Chroma Major Page 21