◆◆◆
Joanna stared at her screen for the seventh consecutive minute without looking away from the image. Macon had been an amazing assistant during that infant photo shoot, but she’d made an even better subject. Joanna hadn’t had to try hard to capture the woman in the perfect light, with a wide smile on her face and her gorgeous eyes not meeting the camera but looking off to the side of it, where Joanna remembered the baby’s mother was standing. They’d been in mid-conversation. Joanna had taken a few photos of her girlfriend because she couldn’t resist. Macon’s hair was a little all over the place, but something about the imperfection made it an even more perfect image. Joanna smiled before finally closing her eyes and turning away. She closed her computer, and seeing it was after four o’clock in the afternoon, she decided that she wasn’t getting anything done in the office; she should head home to drop off her stuff and then hit the grocery store to get the necessities to get her through the rest of the week.
She walked home slowly while listening to songs about breakups on her headphones because it fit her mood. She hadn’t had a moment alone with Macon since they’d had their attempt at an apology before dinner. And, even then, they weren’t actually alone. The dinner hadn’t exactly gone terribly, but it hadn’t gone well either. Then, Macon had left her in the backseat of Hillary’s car, instead of talking things out, and hadn’t responded to any of her messages. Joanna wanted to respect her space, but if she hadn’t heard from Macon tonight, tomorrow, she’d make her way over to Macon’s place to find out if they were still together.
She arrived home and turned the key in the lock before pushing the door open out of frustration, more than anything, for how the weekend had gone. She tugged the headphones out of her ears, placed her laptop bag on the floor, and then looked up to see Macon standing in her living room.
“Make?”
“Hi,” Macon replied.
The dark-haired woman was holding her violin in one hand at her side and the bow in the other. She stood behind Joanna’s coffee table on the other side of the sofa, which was facing her as if it was awaiting an audience for her performance.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Last night, I wasn’t ready to talk to you because I was afraid you’d end things.”
“What?” Joanna took a few steps in her direction. “Why would you–”
“Because your mom clearly hates me, or at least the fact that I’m a woman. And I’ve seen this before, Jo. I’ve seen women date other women and then, because of pressure, they end it.”
“And you thought I’d do that to you?”
“I didn’t think it, but I was worried. It’s hard to explain. It’s like I didn’t actually think you would but, at the same time, I had to mentally prepare myself in case you did. I realize, though, that those are my insecurities. And you did attempt to apologize last night before I got frustrated.”
“I said our situations weren’t the same; you didn’t agree.” Joanna took another step but felt like, given Macon’s posture, she shouldn’t move any closer to her.
“I’m gay, Jo. I know that about myself like I know my own name, or that I’m a violinist. I know it in my soul, bones, heart, and any other place one can know things about themselves.”
“And I don’t?”
“I don’t care that you don’t define yourself as gay; it doesn’t bother me. That’s up to you to figure out. I can tell you that the question won’t go away, and that people will keep asking it, but it’s your choice how you answer it. If you tell me one day that you know you’re gay – great. If you say you’re attracted to men and women, that’s great, too. If you’re straight outside of loving me, I don’t care. If you’re undefinable altogether because there’s no label that fits how you feel about yourself, it doesn’t matter to me as long as you love me.”
“But I do love you, Macon.” She took another step.
“Will you please sit down for me?” Macon motioned with the hand holding her bow toward the sofa.
“Why?” Joanna asked even as she walked to the sofa and sat in the middle of it.
“Because I want to tell you how I feel.”
“Make, I don’t–”
“Jo, I love you,” she stated, interrupting Joanna’s words. “When you said our situations are different, I didn’t get it. But I do now: this is all new to you. You haven’t had to bring a woman home to your parents, or come out to them in the same way I had. I didn’t get that yesterday; I only saw you not standing up for us. I failed to grasp that it was more about you having to confront your parents about this new situation you’re going through than it was about your feelings for me.”
“I did talk to my mom, though, Make. That’s why I was so disappointed last night when you just went home instead of talking to me.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that; I am. I felt like I needed to just be alone. I knew I’d had too much to drink and that I’d break down and cry – which I never do, but seem to when the idea of losing you hits me like a ton of bricks.”
“Honey, you’re not losing me. I’m here.” Joanna went to stand.
“No. Please, sit.”
“Macon, let me tell you what I told my mom, and–”
“I don’t need to know.”
“But you were worried, Macon.”
“I’m not anymore.” The woman smiled and brought her instrument to her shoulder. “I stayed up all night writing. And, this morning, I started recording some of it and making revisions. It’s why I didn’t call you: I didn’t hear my phone. I was so into the music, that I thought I needed to finish it before I could focus on anything else.”
“You were composing?”
“I rarely write music. I’ve always felt much better playing the greats than trying to come up with something new. But then I thought about you, and how it felt when we first met: I was so taken aback by you and how amazing you were; how funny you were. Then, I went to this place of misery, because you were straight and not interested, which meant I could never have you. Then, I could. You felt the same way about me, and we did this dance while I was away and had this amazing beginning. Yesterday was a hiccup in an otherwise miraculous situation to me, Jo. I couldn’t stop writing the notes and hearing them in my head. I had to start playing them. I had no choice.”
“You composed a song about me? About us?”
“About how it feels to love you, yes.” Macon smiled at her and looked at her violin before meeting Joanna’s eyes again. “I wanted to play it for you. It’s not finished; I still have a lot of corrections to make. But I was hoping I could play you the first version at least.”
“Yes,” Joanna replied without thought and leaned against the back of her sofa, placing her hands in her lap and staring in awe at the woman in front of her.
“Okay. Just remember: it’s rough,” Macon said.
Joanna knew she wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. Macon was the musical genius; Joanna knew only what her girlfriend had taught her.
Macon took a few more moments and deep breaths before she met the strings with the bow and began her song. Joanna listened to the notes at the beginning – which were light and fast and spoke to the initial feelings of meeting someone new. Those notes lasted for at least a few minutes – which spoke to the length of time Macon had experienced those feelings for her before the notes shifted to a slower and lower pace. Joanna’s smile remained but grew smaller as she observed Macon, with closed eyes and tense facial muscles, play through the period in her life where she felt for Joanna but thought those feelings would never be returned. That section didn’t seem to last as long as the first one before Macon shifted into the higher note section. The notes were still long, with a few shorter – almost plucks – in between. Joanna wished she knew what the proper terms were to define what Macon was doing. But she was also perfectly content living in the unknown, just watching Macon play.
Macon made her way into the section where Joanna returned her feelings, and Joan
na could almost see their relationship playing out in her mind as Macon played with a wider smile on her face. Joanna saw Macon on her tour while they’d spoken on the phone before she could see the woman in Boston and they had a chance to touch one another for the first time in weeks. She saw the dinner with Macon’s parents as the notes shifted low just for a moment before returning to the more playful, happy tones. Joanna could see them making love, holding one another, sharing their ‘I love you’ exchange for the first time, and everything else they’d said and done with one another since reuniting in San Francisco. The piece shifted again. Joanna knew these notes were about yesterday. Her smile dimmed, but she tried to remember that yesterday was just that: yesterday. It was gone. They’d work past it together. It was only one day in their relationship. The section didn’t last long before Macon’s face lit up. She played a quick section with an upbeat melody and a long final note that still resonated in the apartment long after she’d lowered her bow. Joanna could only attempt to hold back her tears for so long until one of them fell down her cheek, and she wiped at it.
“What was that last section?” Joanna asked after at least two minutes of silence between the two.
“The future,” Macon replied.
“Our future?”
“I hope so. The last note just fades because I couldn’t figure out how to end the piece when I don’t want us to ever end.” Macon placed the violin on the coffee table.
“Neither do I, Macon.”
Macon moved around the table and sat down next to her, placing an arm over the back of the sofa.
“I can’t promise I won’t get scared again, Joanna. Your mom is a lot.” She gave a shy smile.
“I told her that I loved her, but that if she wants to be involved in my life, that includes you now. She has to be okay with that, or it won’t work. I don’t want that. I do love my parents. But I’ve always been less than what they wanted in a daughter. I’m used to it now, but it’s still not something I’ll ever be okay with. I’m happy, though. Parents are supposed to want their children to be happy, and I am. I have my dream job; I’m living in this amazing place...” She took Macon’s hand and placed it into her own lap. “And I’m crazy in love with this gorgeous and talented woman, who in one night managed to write the most beautiful piece of music I’ve ever heard.”
“You liked it?” Macon smiled and had nervous eyes.
“Babe, I loved it. You’re playing it for me again later.”
“I am?” Macon laughed.
“Yes, you are. And probably again tonight; maybe tomorrow, too. Get used to it.”
“I’ll play it for you every day if you want.”
“I want you here every day,” Joanna said before she had a chance to think about what it meant.”
“You want me to stay over?”
“I want to ask you to move in with me. But your apartment is your favorite place in the world; I can’t ask you to give that up.”
“I could ask you to move in with me.” Macon lifted an eyebrow.
“Are you?”
“Will you?”
“My place has the washer and dryer,” Joanna reminded.
“Damn, you’re right. I hate the laundromat.” Macon ran a hand along Joanna’s cheek.
“We’ll figure it out later?”
“Later,” Macon agreed.
“Don’t leave tonight, though,” Joanna said a moment before Macon’s lips met her own.
“I can’t. I have to play for you again.”
“That’s true.” Joanna leaned back ever so slightly, leaving a few inches of space between their parted and waiting lips. “Hey, what’s the title of that piece?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Don’t all these classical pieces have to end in like something-something Requiem in A minor, or something like that?”
“It’s your song. You can call it whatever you want, Jo.” Macon kissed Joanna lightly on the forehead before lowering her lips back to hover so closely to Joanna’s own. “But can you think of a title later? I haven’t kissed you since yesterday morning.”
Joanna smiled. She tried to laugh but found herself unable to do so as Macon’s mouth covered her own in a slow, deliberate, and perfect kiss.
EPILOGUE
“Kell, I’ve missed you,” Keira told Kellan as she reached to cover the woman’s hand from across the picnic table they found themselves at.
“I’ve missed you guys, too.” Kellan glanced in the direction of Reese. “I wish I could get away more to visit, but things are crazy busy here, and–”
“And you love it,” Hillary interjected.
“I do love it, yes.”
Kellan let go of Keira’s and took hold of Reese’s hand. Reese smiled back at her girlfriend before giving her a kiss on the cheek. Greene watched this unfold while she waited for her own girlfriend to reemerge from the six-bedroom cabin they’d all rented. Kellan and Reese were staying with the group, since they lived on the south side of the lake and the cabin was on the north.
Hailey and Charlie had arrived last and were currently unpacking for this little four-day adventure. Emma was inside with Joanna, helping to get dinner ready. They’d planned to eat outside, since the weather was so nice and they were only about twenty yards from the crystal blue water of the lake. They had lush trees providing privacy, and the cabin came with a hot tub for twelve people and even a small kidney-shaped pool. Greene couldn’t see herself using a chlorinated pool when she had clear water just beyond it, though. She was staring at that water when she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder and then witnessed a steaming cup of coffee placed in front of her. In the foam, Joanna had crafted a heart.
“Thank you,” Greene replied and then tugged on Joanna until the woman’s other hand joined and wrapped around her own shoulders. Joanna’s head rested on the right one, and Greene leaned a little to that side. “How’s dinner prep going?”
“Almost done. I just came to bring you that. I know you’re exhausted.” Joanna kissed her cheek and then pulled herself up. “You had a long week there, professor.” She began rubbing Greene’s shoulders, and Greene leaned back into the relaxing touch.
“Professor?” Greene laughed.
“Professor?” Kellan repeated as she turned to listen to their conversation.
“I started teaching some students in local music programs.”
“I thought you always taught,” Kellan replied and took a drink from her water bottle.
“Young kids, yeah. I’m helping colleges now: students in music programs who can’t necessarily afford private coaching beyond their school instructors. I just started this week. I have two students so far.”
“And that’s on top of the orchestra work and the planning for her next tour,” Joanna added.
“Another tour?” Hillary asked.
“We’re in the planning phase,” Greene explained. “They’re thinking about me going on another tour next summer. It would be longer this time; maybe six months. I’d go more places but stay in them longer, too.”
“You’d be gone for six months?” Emma’s voice came from behind her as she emerged from the cabin.
“Yeah, probably leave in April, at the earliest, and be back in September.” Greene met Emma’s eyes as she came around to the other side of the table and placed a bowl of some kind of pasta salad on it.
“But... Back by September for sure?” Emma questioned her.
“Yes, Emma.” Greene laughed.
“I’m going to go with her,” Joanna revealed. “If it happens, I mean.”
“My own personal photographer,” Greene shared. “It’s a part of the contract I’ll sign. Makes me seem like a diva, but it means Jo gets to come with me, so I don’t care.”
“That’s awesome, Make,” Keira told her.
“Just as long as you’re back by September,” Emma repeated.
“Why are you so concerned about September, Em?” Keira laughed a little at her girlfri
end.
“I’m not. I just know how busy things are for both of us during the summer, and that fall typically gets slow enough that we can plan something; a trip or something.”
“We all get pretty busy during the summer. I get what she’s saying,” Greene tried to help Emma out.
“Fall is when I get busy, actually,” Hillary added and then took a glare from Greene. “But I’m sure I can do something on a weekend with no problem.”
“You’re all acting strange. It’s not like we won’t see each other until next fall,” Keira said.
“I’m going to go back inside to grab the plates and stuff.” Joanna changed the subject. “Emma?”
“Yeah, I’m coming,” Emma returned.
“I love you. I’ll be right back. Drink that coffee I made with love.” Joanna kissed the top of Greene’s head and moved back toward the cabin, which was up a slight hill.
◆◆◆
“I can’t believe I almost screwed up,” Emma said to Joanna once they were alone in the kitchen. “Did I screw up? Do you think she knows?”
“That you invited us here to propose? No, I don’t think she knows, Emma.”
“Why didn’t you and Greene tell me about this tour? You know how busy Keira’s schedule gets during spring and summer. We pretty much have no choice but to have our wedding in the fall or winter. And she hates winter. She told me when we first started dating that she wanted a fall wedding and that she wanted to plan it herself.”
“Emma, calm down.” Joanna took Emma’s shoulders and lightly shook them. “She doesn’t know; you didn’t screw it up. And the tour came up this week; it’s only in the early stages. If you two set a date for this time next year, we’ll make sure we’re there. No tour will keep us from your wedding, okay?”
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