Joanna moaned this time as Macon took her bottom lip between hers, sucking on it hard. Joanna knew it would be swollen later, but she didn’t care. She ran her hands up under Macon’s shirt. When she felt a bra there, she stopped. Macon’s hands had moved to Joanna’s stomach and were about to travel under her shirt, but they stopped at Joanna’s pause.
“I’m sorry,” Macon said and shot back off her, almost toppling over the table as she stood up and then moved away from Joanna, touching her lips as she did.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I thought–”
“I did,” Joanna interrupted, knowing what she was about to say. “I did, Macon.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You don’t, Jo. You think you do, but you don’t. I can’t do that; not with you.”
“Do what? Kiss me?”
“I can’t just kiss you.” Macon ran both of her hands through her dark hair.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t just want to kiss you.”
“So?” Joanna stood.
“So? Joanna, you’re straight! You like men. And I think when you hit my bra clasp a second ago, your brain finally remembered that I’m not a man.”
“I didn’t need to feel your bra to realize you aren’t a man, Macon. I kind of knew that going in,” she retorted. “And I kissed you back.”
“You’re just confused or something.” Macon started to pace, and Joanna stood watching her.
“I’m not confused.”
“So, you’re suddenly into women?” Macon stopped.
“I don’t know,” Joanna replied frustrated. “I’ve never thought about it before you.”
“I’m not an experiment, Jo.”
“I know that. God, Macon! Do you really think I’d treat you like that?”
“I don’t know what to think. One second, I’m playing the violin. Then, you’re kissing me, and I’m kissing you back.”
“Make, you played Somewhere.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because you love that song.” Macon shrugged.
“I love that you know that about me.” Joanna smiled at her. “Macon, I’ve been thinking lately… No, that’s wrong. I haven’t been thinking. I’ve been feeling. And I don’t know what it all means, but I’ve–”
“Don’t, Jo.”
“Let me finish.”
“Please, don’t.” Macon implored.
“Why not? I’m trying to tell you that I–”
“Because I won’t be able to handle it when you change your mind,” Macon interrupted and nearly yelled.
“What? Change my mind?”
“Jo, I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened between us and you changed your mind. If you couldn’t do it, or didn’t want to be with me, I don’t think I could take it.” Macon paused, and Joanna noticed that the brightness in her eyes had gone. “I want you,” she added. “I want you so much, sometimes, it nearly kills me not to have you. I’ve never felt this before, and I know it’s real.”
“Then, what–”
“Because I want you, but I don’t just want you. I want to be with you. You might think you want it tonight, but if you wake up tomorrow and you can’t be with me, then I–” She looked away. “Jo, it’s too hard.”
“So, you like me, but you’re afraid I don’t or can’t like you?”
“It’s not like, Jo.” Macon turned back to her. “Like is something you feel when you’re in an eighth grade about the girl or boy in your pre-algebra class. I don’t like you. I want you.” Her eyes had changed back to their former dark green shade. “I want to touch you. I want to taste your skin. I want to hear the sounds you make when you come. I want to feel your skin against my lips.” She took a step toward her. “I want to bury myself inside you and come with you when I do.” She paused. “I want you like crazy.”
“Make–”
“And I also want to hold you after you come down, and I want to kiss your temple while you lie against my chest. I want to run my fingers up and down your back and listen to your breathing. I want to watch you sleep and hug you, kiss you before you leave for a shoot.” She looked skyward for a moment and then lowered her eyes back to Joanna. “I didn’t realize it until Keira pointed it out to me.”
“What? Keira?”
“In her office, the other day. That’s why I was so mad at her. I didn’t want to believe she was right, but she is.” Macon let out a sigh. “I want to be with you, Jo, but you’re unavailable to me. I’ve been trying to get over it, but you don’t make it easy.”
“Macon, I’m here.” Joanna tried to take a step toward her, but Macon held out her hand.
“I need you not to be.”
“What? Why? Don’t do this; don’t push me away right now.” She took that step.
“Jo, you don’t want me; not like that.”
“Let’s just talk. I don’t know what happened tonight, but–”
“Please go,” Macon said.
“Make–”
“Please, Jo.” Macon lowered her head.
“I’ll go now, but this doesn’t mean we’re done with this conversation, Macon. We have things we need to talk about, to figure out. We kissed tonight; we more than kissed tonight.”
“Please,” Macon implored again.
Joanna couldn’t stand hearing that hurt tone coming from Macon. She reached for the purse she’d dropped when she’d entered, opened the door, and turned back once more to see if Macon was watching. When she discovered she wasn’t, Joanna left the apartment.
CHAPTER 10
Greene stared at the ceiling above her bed all night, trying to get her brain to quiet and her heart to stop thumping long enough for her to get some sleep, but sleep never came. She was just going through the motions as she showered around eight in the morning and left for orchestra rehearsal at the normal time, but. When she got there, she took her usual seat and played through the rehearsal with no real emotion. She got called out by the conductor once – which hadn’t happened to her since she first started – and then packed up to go, stopping at Rose’s office.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Miss Greene, how are you?”
“I’m in.”
“I’m sorry?”
“For the tour, I’m in,” she said and stared at the floor. “When do I leave?”
“That’s great news. I’ll call the coordinator right now and let her know. You’ll leave for Sydney next weekend.”
“Can I leave sooner?” she asked.
“Sooner?”
“I just think it’ll be better if I get there a little earlier, check out everything, meet the people.”
“Oh, when do you–”
“Sunday,” Macon interrupted. “We have the performance tomorrow night. I can leave this Sunday.”
“You’ll be ready by then?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have my assistant reach out once the flights and hotels are confirmed.” She smiled at her. “Miss Greene, this is amazing news: great for the orchestra and great for your career; six major cities in thirty days.”
◆◆◆
The offer had come out of nowhere but, at the same time, it had been expected. Usually, once a season or so, she’d get an offer like this to visit cities and sit in on their symphony. When she’d been a student at the conservatory, she’d been at the top of her class. In their performances, she’d been noticed by many in the field. Some of them had kept up with her and continued to ask about her. She’d had offers to move to just about every major symphony in the country, and a few international ones as well. She’d always turned them down, until now. Now, she wanted to leave. No, she wanted to flee.
Joanna’s kiss had been better than she could have ever imagined. And the thought that they could have gone further last night – that Greene could have taken things further and could have had her and then lost her come morning when Joanna said she was
straight and regretted the whole thing – stung worse than not having her like that at all. Greene couldn’t risk that.
She received the flight confirmation for her flight from San Francisco to Sydney. With that came her hotel confirmation for Sydney for a week, followed by Rome for four days, Vienna after that, Paris, and London, with her last stop being in New York; and then home, to rejoin the orchestra.
Greene did her best not to think about Joanna all night again, but she’d failed miserably. By Saturday evening, she was getting ready for the performance. She was forced to push Joanna out of her mind so she could focus on the music. She thought about how different it would be on tour, where she was a featured soloist and would perform two or three pieces with the orchestra and at least one on her own, or with only a piano or bass and cello. In Paris, she’d have a quartet piece, and a viola would join in that, but she was still the named musician. This, as Rose hoped, could be the beginning of her solo career. Or, it could go horribly wrong, and she’d never tour again.
She played her solo, and then they finished the performance, bowed, as was the custom, and headed backstage to pack up and say her goodnights and also her temporary goodbyes. It took her longer than usual to make her way out to the street to head home and sulk.
“Macon Greene, can I have your autograph?”
Greene turned to see Joanna standing there, with a bouquet of colorful flowers and a hopeful smile on her face.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I saw the performance.”
“You were in the audience?”
Joanna walked toward her and said, “These are for you.”
“Jo–”
“And before you start interrupting me, like you did the other night, just shut up.” She passed Greene the flowers. “Macon, I don’t know what’s going on with us, but I do know that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that kiss, or I guess those kisses, since there were more than one. I don’t want things to be awkward between us now. We never go this long without talking to one another.”
“I’m leaving, Jo.”
“I’ll come with you. I–”
“I’m leaving San Francisco.”
Joanna’s face immediately changed as she asked, “You’re what?”
“It’s just for a month. I’m going on tour: six cities in thirty days.”
“When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I accepted the offer yesterday.”
“After we kissed?”
“They offered it to me before.”
“But you accepted after?”
“Yeah,” she admitted.
“When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Joanna looked around as if checking for an answer somewhere on the street. “You leave tomorrow? For where?”
“Sydney.”
“You’re going to Australia tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
Joanna shook her head back and forth in disbelief.
“Were you going to tell me?”
“I haven’t told anyone about it yet. I was going to call everyone tomorrow.”
“Everyone including me?”
“Yes, Jo,” she confirmed. “I was going to call before I headed to the airport.”
“So, you would be calling to say goodbye.” Joanna was angry, and Greene knew it was all her fault. “We kissed, Greene. You kissed me. I kissed you back. I wanted to keep going. You’re the one that pulled away, and now you’re doing it again.”
“You called me Greene. You never call me that.”
“Well, I’m not feeling like myself much right now.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.” Greene lowered the flowers to her side.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means it happens, Jo. A lesbian kisses a straight woman; the straight woman thinks she wants it and then changes her mind. I can’t do that with you. I want too much with you. I told you that.”
“This isn’t some lame lesbian movie you watched ten years ago, Macon.” She returned to Greene’s first name, which always sounded so good coming from her. “I’m not some character; I’m real. I have real feelings. And, yeah, I’ll admit, I don’t have them all figured out right now, but you’re not exactly giving me a chance, either.”
“I can’t be around you and not be with you, Jo. And I don’t think I can be with you either.”
“Because you’re scared. You’re scared of so much, aren’t you? You’re scared of letting anyone really see you. You’re terrified that if they find out who you really are, they’ll leave.” She paused, turned, and then turned back. “But you’re the one that’s leaving. Remember that, Macon. You’re the one leaving for a month.”
“You’re the one that wanted me to go on tour.”
“I’m the one that wants you to be yourself. I don’t care if you’re a famous violinist or if you’re, I don’t know, a high school guidance counselor, Macon. I don’t care. I want you to be you. I want you to be happy,” Joanna argued. “If you don’t want to go on this damn tour, don’t go. In fact, stay and talk to me. But if you want to go, then go. I’m done trying to convince you to be an adult and just talk to me about what’s going on.” She turned once more. “Don’t expect me to be waiting around when you get back though.” She started walking.
◆◆◆
The next morning, Joanna received a text. She was sitting at her desk, staring at pictures of another newborn in a basket, when it flashed across the upper right-hand corner of her screen because she’d linked her phone to her computer a long time ago. She clicked on the notification to read the message on her screen.
“My flight takes off in a few minutes. I’m going to be in the air for the next fifteen hours. I didn’t sleep last night, Jo. I’m sorry. I’m scared. I’ve been here before, and I didn’t care about her like I care about you. I’m sorry.”
Joanna read and reread the message before clicking away the messages window and returning to her editing.
◆◆◆
Three days later, Joanna was heading out of the coffee shop she used to frequent with Macon and heard her name called from behind her.
“Russell?”
“Hey, I’m getting one of those myself. I didn’t know you come here,” he said, referencing her cup.
“Yeah, not often,” she returned.
Russell was about 6’3” with short dark hair he had in a semi-spike. His eyes were gray. He had a slight five o’clock shadow seemingly all the time. He was dressed in a gray suit that matched his eyes and a pinstripe shirt with a light blue tie. His shoes matched his black belt and were clearly expensive.
“I’d offer to buy you one, but you’ve already got your own there.”
“I was just on my way to a shoot.”
“Listen, I can take a hint, I promise.” He smiled at her. “I get it: you’re not interested. I’ve stopped my incessant texting, and I’ll leave you alone. I just thought we got along well when you did the work for the magazine, and I had to try.”
“I’m sorry, Russell. I’ve been busy lately. I’ve been working pretty much non-stop. I didn’t reply to you; that was rude, and I’m sorry.”
“So, you wanted to reply but couldn’t?” he asked, and Joanna realized she’d given him and in.
“I kind of stopped dating when I started working in photography full-time. It takes a lot to get a business up and running.”
“Do you maybe want to grab a drink with me tonight? No pressure.” He held out his hands, palms forward. “You can totally say no. I know it’s last minute. It can just be two people getting to know each other outside of work; nothing more.”
She thought first of Macon, who was probably on a beach somewhere in Sydney, watching girls in bikinis walk past while she sipped on a fruity drink. Actually, it was nighttime there; she was more likely asleep. Joanna had added Sydney time to her world clock feature on her phone the day after Macon’s message. S
he’d also looked up the tour she was on since it was listed on the orchestra’s site, and added Paris, London, Vienna, and Rome. Even though some of those times were the same, she liked having the names of the cities Macon would be in on her phone. She would have added New York, too, but it had already been there. She then thought about how she had no romantic feelings thus far for Russell, but he was an attractive man who had been nothing but nice to her since they’d met a few months ago.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Sure. Tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up… or wait, no. I’ll meet you there. It’s not a date. Sorry.”
“I’ll meet you there,” she said. “Where and what time?”
◆◆◆
Greene woke on her fourth day in Australia. She still hadn’t adjusted to the time zone. She had left her hotel room only for food and to go to the hall where she’d met some of the people she’d be working with. She used one of their music rooms to rehearse for a couple of hours each day. That had been her life since she’d arrived in one of the most beautiful cities on earth.
She hadn’t heard back from Joanna. She wondered if she’d ever talk to her again. The way she’d acted with her that night, and the night they’d kissed, had probably been inexcusable. Joanna deserved better.
“Macon Greene, right?” a girl in her mid-twenties with an Australian accent asked the moment Greene exited the soundproof music room, carrying her sheet music and her violin.
“That’s me,” Greene replied.
“I know. I’ve seen all the posters.” She referenced the promo posters that had been put up around the building. “I’m Gail, Mr. Abernathy’s assistant.”
“Nice to meet you.”
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