Duet Rubato

by Claerie Kavanaugh

  “Would ‘fuck you’ be an improvement?” I ask. “Because that’s the other option.”

  Her face crumbles into downcast eyes and pouting lips, but she doesn’t try to placate me.

  “Look, I’m sorry I lied before.” She shrugs and I fight the urge to sneer. “I didn’t want to admit it over the phone, and—”

  “Admit what?” I spit.

  Catie hangs her head. “You were right.” The answer renders me speechless as Catie exhales. “After you left, I begged a dance friend to take me to the clinic the next day.” She sighs and I wince. “You had stomped on my heart and I wanted the decision to be made.”

  I hum.

  “She agreed, but when we got there, I couldn’t do it. I kept thinking about what you said and I couldn’t help but wonder how I would feel when it was all over. There were girls in there—God, some of them were so young, Addie. Way younger than me.” She takes a deep breath.

  I unfist my hands.

  “That’s when it hit me. I had been so focused on getting this over with. Getting my life back on track and forgetting my thing with Grayson had ever happened. I knew you’d never come back by then.” She pauses and I search her features.

  “You, you still wanted me? Even after what I said?” It seemed impossible.

  Catie takes my hand. “Of course I did.”

  “But I—”

  “No buts,” she interjects, putting a finger to my lips. “I did.”

  “But you never spoke to me again. I thought you hated me. And you had every right to, after what I did.”

  Catie’s cuts her gaze from mine with a long, wet sigh. “I didn’t hate you, Adaline. What you said hurt like hell, and I didn’t trust you anymore.”

  The words submerge me in a bucket of freezing water, but I do my best to hide the salt she’s pouring on my wounds. It’s not like I should have expected anything different.

  “But I could never hate you.” She cups a hand under my chin until I’m forced to meet her eyes, which are wide with unwavering sincerity. “You were my best friend, Lyn, and no matter what, that wasn’t going to change.”

  “But it did.”

  She nods sadly. “It did.”

  “Why?” More than anything, what I want now isn’t to rekindle our friendship, or ask for forgiveness, but to understand.

  “After watching all those girls, going through with it. . . ” She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she searches for the right words. “I knew if I didn’t take this chance, if I didn’t have this baby, whether I kept it or not, it would always be my biggest what-if.”

  “But?” There has to be more to the story. It’s written on her face.

  She twists the fabric of her clothes in her hands and her feet move in a simple sequence of ballet positions. I brace for the trip down the rabbit hole.

  “Pride,” she deadpans. “You had already rejected me and Lyssa by then.”

  I cringe and place a hand on her arm. “Cate, I’m sorry.”

  She smiles. “Don’t be. It’s in the past. At the time, I thought I was going to put her up for an open adoption. That’s why the sheet music was dated. It was the one personal possession I kept close during rehab. I planned to send it with her when she went with her adoptive parents, but—”

  “Whoa. Wait, go back, rehab? Like, drugs? You were on drugs? And you were pregnant?”

  Her cheeks tinge red. My stomach drops to the frigid ground and my ears ring. I fight to form words as my tongue turns to a cotton swab in my mouth.

  “What?” Her curls swing back and forth as she shakes her head. “No! God no.”

  But I hold up my hands, stepping forward so we’re nose-to-nose.

  “Are you insane? You’re a dancer, Catherine! After all the lectures you’ve given me over the years, how could you?” I’m pacing. Steam pours from my nostrils and the world has tinged red. I run my hands through my hair.

  “Addie, you don’t understand!” Her voice cracks as the rain pelting around us recedes to a light drizzle. I stalk toward her, stopping inches from her face.

  “What the hell were you thinking?”

  She whimpers as my scream reverberates through the air, but I don’t give a damn. How the fuck could she do drugs? More importantly, how could I have left her alone to spiral?

  “Addie, I didn’t!” She reaches for my hand, but I pull away.

  “You could’ve hurt yourself! You could’ve fucking died for God sake!” And worse, I wouldn’t know. “Don’t you get that?”

  “Calm down!” She grabs my hand. I jerk back. “Let me ex—”

  “Fuck no! What could’ve gotten so bad you would—”

  “Adaline!” She lunges forward. I freeze as her nails dig into my shoulder, a fierce monsoon brewing behind her bright blue eyes. “Stop! I didn’t do drugs. It was medical rehab.”

  I stumble back. “Me-medical?” the word sounds foreign, even with my rage lowering to a simmer. A knot of dread replaces the searing fire in my gut.

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  Catie exhales, letting go of me as air heaves from my lungs. She plants her feet on the ground again, having been standing on her tiptoes to reach my shoulders, and clears her throat, eyes glued to the ground.

  “There, there was an accident, with La Bailarines.” Tears slip down her cheeks and regret squeezes my heart. “I got hurt. The doctors, they didn’t think I’d make it.”

  I gasp. My own eyes sting. “Oh my God!”

  “I almost lost Lyssa.” She sighs again. “I know I shouldn’t have given her the sheet music, but, it was the best way I could think of to document her birth.”

  “Shh.” I brush my thumb across her cheeks. She sinks into my touch. It only lasts a second, but it takes everything I have not to overanalyze the tingle of unexplainable, warm relief flooding my body. “You don’t have to.”

  “My roommate, Megan,” she continues hoarsely. “She was the one who got me to the hospital. If it wasn’t for her—”

  “You’d be dead.” The thought feels like a stake plunging through my heart. “Oh, Catie.” Fuck me and my stupid, idiotic pride! She could’ve fucking died and I wasn’t there to protect her. Yet another way I failed. I wrap my arms around her waist. She melts into the embrace. “I’m so sorry! If I had known,” I would’ve come running.

  She pulls away and takes a shuddering breath. “It doesn’t matter now. The point is, Lyssa’s my baby, nothing else.”

  I nod. “I believe you.” Because what else can I say?

  “Thank you.” She smiles, shivering. Her jaw clenches and her teeth chatter “I’d love to talk longer, but can we maybe go inside? I’m turning into a human popsicle out here.”

  I laugh. “I’d love to take this someplace warmer, but—” I can’t lift my foot off the ground. I’ve tried, multiple times, but I’m stuck in mud.

  Her eyes widen when my feet scarcely come out of the hole without taking the ground with them. “Oh my God.”

  A mischievous heat skitters up my neck and over my cheeks when she can’t stifle a snicker.

  “Seriously?”

  My embarrassment fades into a flicker of annoyance. “Get over here and help me!” Much as I try, I can’t keep the humor from my voice. I hold out my hand and lean forward. Maybe I can yank myself out of here.

  “All right, all right, I’m coming!” she yelps as I stretch out.

  My foot moves a fraction of an inch. At least, I think it does. The only thing keeping me from losing my balance as I teeter from the shift in weight is those hundreds of impromptu ballet lessons Catie’s given me over the years. That is, after I refused to attend another class. Nothing those teachers did could get rid of my left feet.

  “Don’t!” Catie calls, laughing. “You’re going to face-plant in the middle of the lawn!”

  “At least I’ll be out of this damned hole!” I retort.

  Instead of replying, she clasps her hands around my forearms. I do the same to her,
shoving past the smoldering flames igniting in my sternum from being so close.

  “On three. Ready?”

  I nod and we count off together. “One. Two. Three!”

  She yanks so hard I’m flailing in midair. The lift has so much momentum she doesn’t get a chance to set me on the ground. My weight sends me lunging forward. “Oh!”

  “Ow!” Our foreheads crack against one another. A stabbing pain pulses through my temples. My boots scramble for footing on the soggy ground, but that gives my body more power. I barrel into her with a distinctive smack, sending us both tumbling into the dewy expanse of grass.

  “Oomph!”

  After my head has stopped spinning, I realize our arms are still linked. My legs are spread wide over her thighs and our chests touch every time we exhale. The flames lick at my insides again, curling all the way up and threatening to snuff the blood from my heart in a sheer effort to keep my body functioning normally.

  It takes a scandalized whistle to jolt me out of the stupor of emotions. My eyes dart upward to an open window at the top of Catie’s apartment complex, where a lone blue curtain is yanked back in place. Every thread of warmth flees me, replaced by the bitter, biting cold. Our shuddering forms lay entangled on the ground. I wrench my grip from her arms and roll onto my back. As I stand and haul Catie to her feet, she’s laughing.

  “Well, that’s one way to heat things up.”

  “You could say that.” I try not to overanalyze the shivers that skip up my spine as she giggles. It was bound to happen sooner or later in this temperature. Never mind I’m wearing two layers of clothes. That’s not important. Not at all.

  Catie nudges my shoulder and grins. “So, what now?”

  I sneak a look at my watch. 8:13 p.m. Damn. It’ll be tight, but we can make it. I let a sly grin sneak onto my lips and hold out my hand. “Come on, I know the perfect place to get warm.”

  I lead her to a nearby distillery and, after cleaning up, we take the behind-the-scenes tour. When it’s over, our guide slides behind the bar and pours each of our group members a complimentary sample of the liquor of our choice. Catie, to my surprise, orders a rich, dark bourbon while I stay on the safe side. The distillery is crowded for a Monday night; an oddity I appreciate as we weave our way through the long wooden tables to a few spare seats.

  “So, did you have fun?”

  Catie blushes in the dim lights. My heart does a two-step. “Oddly enough, I did.”

  I smile and shove her shoulder. “Told ya so.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She sticks out her tongue, then falls into step behind me, both our glasses brimming with ice in her hands as I scour the crowd for a familiar face.

  “Now what, Miss Know-It-All?” Catie asks. Her brows furrow when I look back, and she scowls as another tipsy customer causes her to trip. “Hey!” she jabs his rib with her elbow and I stifle a laugh. “Watch it.”

  Miraculously, the drinks remain almost full. The girl grunts and Catie holds the glasses out with the poise of an experienced server as she tosses her one more pointed glare before facing me. “This restaurant is only so big, you know. Maybe we should take these to go?”

  “No, no, we’ll be fine.” My eyes strain in the dim light as they dart around the room.

  Where are you, dammit? Beads of sweat break out on my forehead until the familiar glint of magenta nail polish on long, slim fingers catches my eye. “This way.”

  Rolling my shoulders back, I veer to the left, letting the throng of people carry us toward the back of the bar. Catie’s gasp pierces my eardrums. Her voice shakes as we come close to approaching Hellsworth’s table. Catie hands the drinks off to some passerby and proceeds to grip my bicep with so much force I have to stop myself from wrenching away.

  “Addie, is that—?”

  I turn into her and give a short nod, my stomach clenching at the sight of her trembling lip and wide eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, prying her fingers from my arm and taking her hand. “But I didn’t think you’d come if you knew.”

  “Knew what?” Her gaze cuts back and forth between Hellsworth, who has, unfortunately, taken notice of us. I shrink under the weight of her dagger-like stare as it bores into my back, but my focus remains on Catie as horrified realization dawns on her features. “Wait a second, you planned this?” she hisses. “You staged a date to avoid her wrath?”

  The fury in her words burns, as if I drank cleaner instead of whiskey, but I shake it off and pull her closer. This wasn’t the reaction I’d expected, but given the way she bolted out of the theater this morning, I guess I should’ve known better. “No! No, of course not!” Her lips purse. “Okay, yes, maybe I knew she’d be here but—”

  “I don’t believe you!” She thrusts her hand free of mine and I scurry after her, boots pounding against the hollow floor as she shoves her way toward the bar.

  “I didn’t plan to take the tour, I swear!”

  Skidding to a stop next to one of the tables, I stumble to keep a chair upright. Catie spins around to glower at me, and I grab her arm before she turns away.

  “Look, after you didn’t answer my texts, I came to your apartment to make sure you were okay.”

  Catie scoffs and crosses her arms. I plow on. “I was going to tell you about the meeting as soon as I got to your place, but. . .” I sigh and my gaze darts down to my scuffed boots before flicking back up again. I shrug. “I didn’t want you to think I came over because I care about my job.”

  Her brows scrunch and her eyes narrow. “What do you mean, your job?”

  Fuck. I swallow. “I sort of, promised Hellsworth I could get you back into the show.”

  “What?”

  “She gave me until the end of the day, but on the condition I’d be fired as well if I didn’t get you here in time.”

  “Adaline!” she screeches. I cringe at the stinging slap of her palm hitting my bicep.

  Damn. I guess those boxing classes are paying off. Rubbing it, I wish I could punch myself. “I know, I know, okay? I was a stupid, workaholic idiot and I shouldn’t have done it.”

  “Gee,” she drones, smacking the table behind us. “Ya think?”

  “But I swear I didn’t plan on the tour. I suggested it ’cause there was time to kill and I thought it would be fun. And, it was nice to take you out again.”

  Catie giggles. Her finger traces a groove in the wood. “Well, it was fun.” She entwines our hands and we both let brief, beaming smiles slip onto our lips before she sobers up. “But, Addie, what are we going to do? I ran away. I don’t want to go back.”

  “Catherine.” I squeeze her hands. “I know why you’re afraid,” I whisper. “But you can’t give up on something because it scares you.” She tenses and her eyes water. I give her a quick hug. “Trust me,” I say when we pull apart. “I know this from personal experience.”

  She nods, but something behind her eyes has fogged over. Her grip loosens on my hand and I get this sinking feeling she’s no longer standing next to me in a bar.

  “Catie?” No response. Gripping her shoulders, I give them a gentle, but firm shake. “Catie, are you with me?”

  The fog vanishes, replaced with a haunted air. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Her breaths are short and ragged, and her words shake.

  I drop my hands, but don’t move away. “You sure?”

  She leans into the table and nods weakly. “Actually, can you gimme a minute?”

  I frown. “Of cour—”

  She’s jogging toward the bathrooms before the word leaves my mouth.

  “Catie?”

  I sniff and turn toward her voice. Sure enough, Addie’s feet shuffle in the doorway. The look of pity in her eyes is sickening. God, of all the people to see me like this, it had to be her. The universe has a sick sense of humor.

  “I’m fine,” I croak. The back of my fists press into my cheeks, smearing my makeup. “I’ll, I’ll be, fine. I, I need” I hug myself and slump against the sink with a sob. Another one strangles
against my throat, but I hold it back. I knew coming out tonight was a bad idea.

  In five strides, she’s at my side. “Hey, hey, shh.” Her hand runs down my back, and I force myself not to sink into her. On the one hand, I can’t believe she would go to so much trouble to give me a shot at a second chance. I should be groveling with gratitude. But on the other. . .I can’t go back.

  I can’t be up high, even in a mechanic bubble. Not after Lyssa. . .

  Visions wash over me. I shut my eyes as the snap of the fabric—barely audible over the swell of the orchestra, and yet loud enough to be all I registered—echoes in my ears. The whistle of wind. Flailing limbs. A disembodied shriek that could’ve shattered glass.

  The sound of ripping paper towels plummets me back to the present. Addie moves to dab them at my cheeks, but I take them and shift so she’s met with my hunched back. “You don’t have to be here. I’ll be okay, really.”

  Her hand drops from where it rests on the small of my back. “Catie.”

  I wave a hand at the door. “Forget it, okay? Tell Helmsworth this is my fault. You shouldn’t be risking your career for me.”

  A beat of stifling silence coats the room before her eyes meet mine in the smudged mirror. “Fuck her,” she says evenly.

  My lips curl into a tight half-smile and I swallow a snicker. “Addie!”

  “What? I can get another job. Right now, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  The flicker of calm in the air around us melts away. I cut my gaze to the floor. The paper towel crinkles as I ball it in my hand. “I’m fine.”

  “Hey.” She cups my cheeks and raises her eyes to mine. My heart clenches at the hurt laden there. “You don’t have to do that.”

  I nibble my bottom lip. “What?”

  “Pretend,” she answers, never breaking eye contact. “Not with me.”

  “Lyn.” I twine my hands together.

  “Listen to me. I know you’re scared, but you shouldn’t let a fear of heights stop you from going after something you want. It’s been years since—”