by Olivia Janae
“Ma’am?” the driver asked politely from the front seat.
“Uh, right.” Kate nodded. She sat for a second with her hand on the handle and then with a groan, she slid out, pulling her cello case behind her. Summoning all of her courage, she reminded herself that she could do this. Her skin was thick. She was ready. She started for the doors, showing her invitation to the man at the rope.
“Miss Flynn, Miss Flynn!”
Kate turned, alarmed as the man behind the rope called her name. She smiled a bit as she had seen Vivian do and then quickly dived inside.
She hadn’t been ready for that. How did they even know who she was? She wasn’t anyone worthy of a photo, not at all.
Her skin felt too tight, awkward as she tried to regain her equilibrium.
Though the decoration was different, there was no denying that this was the exact theatre where she had spent Halloween as Vivian’s arm candy. Instead of the gaudy Halloween decorations, the large theatre had been covered in black chiffon, with elegant party masks on tables and flutes of champagne everywhere. The change in decor didn’t make her feel better. As a matter of fact, she felt actively worse once she stepped inside the hall; the abrasive black and white contrast reminding her thoroughly of Vivian’s loft before she had painted it for herself and her son… before she had kicked them out again.
She took a champagne flute and began to circle, doing her best not to search the room. She would not do that.
“Ms. Flynn.” Mr. Altman appeared beside her. “Lovely to see you.”
“Mr. Altman. How are you, sir?” She shook his hand and took a sip from her flute to hide her surprise. Surely, he had better people to talk to than her, especially now that she had no connection to the Kensington family.
“Fine, fine. Congratulations on your newest job.”
“My newest job?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Louisville. Jacqueline led me to believe you would be taking the position in Louisville. Now, I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. I thought you would be a forerunner in the Lyric audition but –”
“I want to be!” It had popped out of her mouth before she could stop it.
Altman forced a chuckle, always stuck somewhere between enjoying Kate and merely tolerating her.
She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Altman, but while I haven’t decided about my future in Louisville yet, I do plan to take the Lyric audition.”
He smiled, and there was little in the way of friendliness in it. “That’s what I wanted to hear. It would be a shame for us to waste our time, though.”
“You won’t be.”
“Good. Very good,” he said, slowly. “I will have the set list and your time slot sent to your email tomorrow.”
Relief flooded through her. If she had her audition time and material, then did she really need to be a little puppet on Jacqueline’s strings? Jacqueline couldn’t take that from her, right? “Thank you, sir.”
With a nod, he allowed himself to be distracted by another guest.
She continued her circle. She was uncomfortable. She didn’t fit in and she knew it. She was pleased to have her time, relieved even, but this was uncomfortable. She even wished that she had the security of her cello case just then, but she had dropped the instrument off downstairs when she arrived.
Across the hall, Jacqueline caught her eye. Kate glared, an automatic response, but Jacqueline only looked amused. Apparently, Kate’s bitterness no longer offended Jacqueline as it had once. She smiled broadly, her usual smug authority somehow having doubled. After a second, just when Kate was about to roll her eyes and look away, Jacqueline’s chocolate-colored eyes shifted to the left of the room. Stiffly Kate followed her prompt.
The sight of her hit Kate’s heart. Had she always been that beautiful? Had her eyes always been that sad? Dressed all in white, Vivian stood stiffly smiling as she shook hands with patron after patron, mumbling a polite greeting to each.
Kate didn’t move.
What was she supposed to do?
She thought she had a plan but now that she was seeing her she realized that the plan was dumb. She had to do something. She had to go over and talk to her, right? That was why she hadn’t backed out of tonight’s gig. Well, most of the reason why.
Cold brown eyes rose and met Kate’s own jade. Vivian’s mouth popped open a bit in honest surprise when she saw Kate, and Kate’s hope bloomed. Maybe… but then the surprise dropped away and Vivian dismissed Kate before she had even had a chance to try.
The easy dismissal angered Kate. Her resolve tripled in a moment. She was not garbage to be tossed out.
Making her way through the crowd, she took another glass of champagne and waited at Vivian’s arm for her to say her polite goodbye to the person in front of her. It took an agonizingly long time for the gentleman to stop prattling on, but as soon as he was gone, she stepped directly into her line of vision, forcing a hard-to-hold grin onto her face.
She handed Vivian the extra glass, which she took, politeness so habitual to her.
Kate waited as Vivian purposely looked everywhere but at her, the deaf equivalent to plugging your ears and covering her eyes. She rolled her eyes but waited, not moving, feeling her grin wavering. It was like trying to hold a weight that was far too heavy for your already exhausted arms.
After a minute of this Kate’s patience wore thin. She stuffed the ache deep down inside and caught Vivian’s chin, turning it toward her. “I’ve been trying to call you.”
“Please do not touch me, Ms. Flynn.” Vivian didn’t jerk away, too professional for that, instead she simply pulled back an inch to free herself.
“Okay, then look at me, please.”
“Ms. Flynn, if you’ll exc—”
“No. I won’t, Vivian. I need to talk to you.”
Vivian stepped past her, falling into a conversation with a waiting gentleman instantly.
“Just give her time,” Jacqueline sighed, appearing at her shoulder. “Vivi has always been a very headstrong girl.”
“Jacqueline!” Kate groaned. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but please leave me the hell alone.” She turned and quickly accepted the first offer to dance.
The game she and Vivian played now was very different from the one they had played previously in this hall. Instead of heat-filled glances and coy smiles, they shared angrily charged glares and failed attempts from Kate to corner Vivian into a conversation. She tried to catch her at the bar, but Vivian stiffly introduced her to someone she said was ”a strong admirer of Kate’s” and sauntered off as the man wrapped Kate in a layer of sleaze. She planted herself in front of Vivian as she moved from the hall to the lobby, but Vivian sidestepped her and went through another door. She tried catching Vivian in the bathroom, reddening at the memory of their last encounter there, but Vivian’s face had held such disdain that Kate lost her nerve and let her go.
In between all of her attempts, Kate danced. She didn’t care who it was that asked her as long as it kept her mind and body busy while she plotted her next ambush attempt. It was the only time that she caught Vivian looking at her, and, even then, it was only in fleeting glances.
So, she danced and she thought.
When Jacqueline finally caught her arm, reminding her she was scheduled to play, she followed blindly and played a beautiful and moving melody with just a touch of ice. She had barely realized she was playing before she was done.
It wasn’t until fifteen minutes before midnight, very much ready for the evening to be over, that she got Vivian alone at all.
Vivian was sitting in the hallway on a bench, Jacqueline next to her, rambling on and on. Kate had simply been heading to the coat check for her phone when she caught a glance of them and, even in that quick moment, she could see that Vivian’s face was sharp, her eyes red and fogged over.
Kate had no idea what Jacqueline was trying to say, but she knew Vivian couldn’t understand her either and tension was growing; Jacqueline was b
eginning to feel frustrated. She wondered just how many times this scene had played out before.
“Can I help?” she asked Vivian in a quiet voice.
Vivian glared at her.
“I think we need another moment to ourselves, Katelyn.” Jacqueline’s lips were pressed tightly together, her movements awkward.
Kate hesitated, knowing she shouldn’t, but then she did it anyway. She stepped past the line that was her place as the now ex-girlfriend. “Jacqueline, do you see that look on her face? You think she’s being defiant when she says that she can’t understand you, but she isn’t. You don’t move your lips when you speak. She can’t understand you. Learn her language.” It was a protective kind of anger, she was aware of that, just like she knew that she wasn’t allowed to feel that way about Vivian anymore. But it needed to be said.
“That’s enough, Ms. Flynn,” Vivian growled, her hands jerking in her lap as if dying to lash hateful words at her.
“Oh, don’t ‘Ms. Flynn’ me, Vivian. Just let me help.”
“And how, may I ask, will you do that? Are you looking to play a game of charades? My mother, if she cared to, could do that herself.”
“Why do you keep acting like I haven’t learned any Sign? You and I both know that isn’t true. Let me help.”
“No! I am not, in any way, in need of your assistance. Please just mind your own business and allow me to mind mine.”
“My goodness, Vivi, really!” Jacqueline hissed, but Vivian wasn’t looking at her. She was instead glaring at Kate.
Kate faltered, her heart burning with anger and hurt. “Jacqueline, can you give us a second, please?”
For once, Jacqueline removed herself without an argument, tutting as she went.
She knew she didn’t have a lot of time so she dived in. “I did not take your mother’s side. I did not choose your mother. I did not agree with your mother. I did not sign off on the torture of children. I did not want to change you. Don’t you see that, Vivian? She tricked me. I thought I was doing something you wanted!” Vivian turned to leave, but Kate caught her arm. “Please, Vivian, please talk to me. You at least owe me that.”
“I owe you that? I owe you that?” Vivian hissed, her face livid, eyes bulging and cheeks red. “Very well.” She clamped a palm over Kate’s mouth. “Talk to me. Go ahead. Tell me about your day. Use your hands, Kate. It’s been six months since our first date, since I took you to the Bean. Say something more than a one-word sentence. Go ahead, talk to me. Surprise us all by actually trying to speak my language.”
Kate’s mouth opened, but she had nothing to say. She could try. She had tried. But… her face cooled uncomfortably, and she found she couldn’t quite look at Vivian as she fumbled out the signs, “I’ve been trying.”
“Yeah.” Vivian nastily spat. “You have not exactly been straining yourself. You would rather, just like my mother, alter me rather than yourself. It’s disgusting. I’m tired of that attitude.”
“No. I wouldn’t.”
“Besides,” Vivian released her and took a long step away, “my mother already informed me of your departure. What does it all matter? You’re leaving anyway. You were leaving before we broke up. I just made it easier on you.” She turned fast on her heels and disappeared through the door that led back into the hall.
Kate watched her go, her heart sinking. She couldn’t keep doing this. Kate sat down on the vacated bench. She couldn’t keep chasing after a woman who was so clearly pushing her away with all her might. Maybe Vivian was right. Maybe it was time to move on from this life and into the next. Louisville would be fine, more than likely.
The only problem was the pure and simple fact that she loved her.
Kate scoffed. She didn’t know, understand, or want love anyway. She had never needed it. She had always only had enough room in her heart for her son. That had been enough. She didn’t need more.
Only, that wasn’t true anymore.
That fact bothered her because she didn’t know what to do with it. Should she try again?
The group in the theatre began to count down to the New Year en masse. “Ten… nine… eight…”
Kate stood. She was a fighter. She had one more idea, and then she was done. She had to put it all out on the line, and then she had to leave it in Vivian’s hands.
“Seven… six… five…”
She crossed the room to where she knew Vivian would be, somewhere inside, counting down to midnight with the other guests.
“Four… three… two…”
She saw Vivian in the corner, her eyes red and makeup clearly recently back in place.
“One! Happy New Year!”
She didn’t allow herself to think about how this rejection would feel, how it would damage her. She had been damaged before. She would heal. She moved quickly across the floor, past the cheering people and passionately kissing couples.
She didn’t give Vivian time to speak as she approached, seeing only her rolling eyes before she yanked her to her body, wrapped her arms around her urgently. Her lips found Vivian’s quickly, like they were two magnets, as she held her in an insistent embrace. Slowly, deliberately, she parted her lover’s lips, gently tasting her, touching her. She did not miss the fact that as her lips began to move, as her tongue went softly exploring, the oh-so-familiar other slipped against her own, greedily prodding as it had always done. Kate kissed her so long, so hard, that they were doubled over by the time Kate pulled away as if she had elegantly dipped her before planting the kiss.
She held her like that, breathless under the stare of Vivian’s swirling brown eyes. “One of my foster mothers told me once that if you kiss the person you love at midnight, then it’s a promise from you to them that you will kiss them every day for the next twelve months. I love you, Vivian, and I want to make good on that promise. You just have to let me.”
She didn’t see Vivian’s face as she turned and walked away.
8
By the end of January, Kate wasn’t so sure her plan to leave the fate of their relationship in Vivian’s angry hands had been a wise one. There had been no phone calls, no messages – nothing. As a matter of fact, Kate rarely saw Vivian now. When they were a couple, Vivian had managed to stop in on most rehearsals and every performance, either with official business or with business that seemed more like an excuse. Now, her business at rehearsals had dried up or she was conducting it from her office on the opposite side of Millennium Park, far away from Kate. The few times she had seen her had been from afar, and Vivian had behaved as though Kate hadn’t been in the room, never looking up or acknowledging her in any way.
By the end of February, Kate was sure she had made a mistake by not just throwing Vivian over her shoulder and claiming her for her own.
Depression was edging into a resigned gray feeling as her life began to pick up a normal pace again. Valentine’s Day came and went in a stumbling drunken blunder of a night. She and John, ever the good friend, had tucked Max into bed and then drank their weight in whiskey. Kate, more obsessed with it now than she ever had been, played that blue Miles Davis album on repeat, her mood growing sour until John swore he couldn’t take it anymore. By the end of the night, they had landed in two comatose heaps on the living room floor.
By the end of March, Kate had simply given up, accepting that it was over; she had ruined it and she was out of luck now. The everyday pain of her stupidity was mellowing, and she was back in the well of loneliness she had lived in before she met Vivian, the same loneliness that had driven her to date and stay with Ash when she first arrived in Chicago. She was back to sitting alone at night, a huge bowl of ice cream in her lap, or to losing herself in vigorous workout routines.
She hurt. She hurt every day. No amount of blues trumpet, no amount of tears or frustration seemed to make her feel better. She hadn’t just lost a love, she had lost friends. She had lost an entire life, an entire possible future, and she wanted it back. This was a very familiar feeling; as a teenager she called it the
“new foster home blues.”
Due to the fact that Kate had a four-year-old child and a severe lack of “people” - no friends - no family; she was very seldom alone. There was never anyone besides herself to take Max to the movies and give her the afternoon off. There were never any birthday parties he attended on his own and no school for him to disappear to, not until next year, anyway. There were also no unexpected sleepovers or day trips to the zoo, not since Charlie disappeared.
In a solitary lifestyle, like the one Kate and Max led, she could assume that her child would be with her at all times, no matter what.
That was why this felt so weird.
The only “people” she had now, Max and John, were out in some distant suburb at a Boy Scouts of America jamboree, learning how to tie knots they would never use and select non-poisonous berries they would never need to find. It was boys’ bonding time, no girls allowed. Kate was grateful that Max still had John after losing Vivian and Charlie, and she was even more grateful when he recommended getting Max involved in Boy Scouts, but she just wished that the jamboree hadn’t been today.
She leaned forward and started Kind of Blue over, for no other reason than the memory ripped at her soul, but also soothed it in a way she rarely found these days.
“Blue ... It sounds like water. It’s, I don’t know, it’s rich and smooth, like swirling, maybe the way that steam twists up from a cup of coffee or the way that the Chicago River twists through downtown. ...It’s like, I don’t know, cobalt, only it’s darker at the edges. Sad. It’s … lonesome, but it’s beautiful. It sounds… I don’t know, it sounds how blue makes you feel, warm and relaxed and yet sad and alone.”
She didn’t feel warm. She didn’t feel relaxed. She just felt blue, blue-gray like a dampening fog, weighing her down.
