by M. J. Duncan
“Actually, I’m on my way home real fast to drop off my cello, and Luke’s going to ride down there with me.”
“Well then I’ll let you go. I need to shower anyway.”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Of course. I finish up at the pool around four and I’ll be sitting in traffic for god knows how long trying to get home after that. Is there a time that works best for you?”
Gwen shook her head. “Anytime works. And if you get busy or whatever, that’s fine. I don’t want you to feel like you have to call me or anything.”
“Gwen.”
“What?”
“Talking to you is honestly the highlight of my day so far, and I made a sprinter throw up this morning during a test set, so that’s saying something,” Dana shared, her voice low and warm and full-to-bursting with sincerity.
“Oh,” Gwen breathed. The light changed, and she swallowed thickly as she followed Luke through the intersection.
Dana chuckled. “Have fun at lunch. Tell Luke I say hi, and I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye,” Gwen whispered, her heart fluttering up into her throat. She was glad Dana couldn’t see the light blush that was spreading across her cheeks, but the soft laughter that rang through the line before Dana disconnected the call suggested she might have known about it anyway. She cleared her throat as she pulled into her driveway beside Luke’s car, and took a deep breath to try and cool her heated cheeks before he saw them and said something. She unlocked the passenger door as she pulled the keys from the ignition and jumped out to run her cello inside. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” Luke replied, his eyes on his phone as he used the FOB on his keyring to lock his car.
Gwen nodded and, grateful that he was distracted, pulled her cello from the back seat and slammed the door shut. After shouldering the case, she made her way up the stairs to the front porch, keenly aware of the lightness that still filled her chest as the warmth of Dana’s voice echoed in her mind. Knowing that her response to just talking to Dana on the phone was anything but platonic did nothing to dampen the happiness that she felt, and she blew out a loud breath as she unlocked her front door, the juxtaposition of her feelings for Dana and Mallory never before so unavoidably obvious to her as they were after the last thirty minutes.
She pushed the front door open and left her keys dangling from the lock as she wandered inside just far enough to leave her cello resting against the wall and the side of the couch in the living room, and ran a hand through her hair as she stopped for a moment to wonder why in the hell she was rushing to get to a restaurant to have lunch with a woman who didn’t seem to mind at all that their relationship had devolved to the point where they were little more than acquaintances with a shared history.
“At least Luke will be there,” she muttered to herself as she made her way back outside and locked up after herself. She trudged down the stairs, her mind turning over the possibility of getting in the car and going somewhere, anywhere other than the restaurant where Mallory would be waiting for her. “How did this become my fucking life?” she wondered aloud, her voice rough and tired sounding as she yanked her car door open and slid behind the wheel.
“You okay?” Luke asked from the passenger’s seat.
Gwen shook her head. “Nope.” She sighed and started the car. “But, that doesn’t really matter right now. You ready for lunch?”
“Sure. Or, you know, we can just say fuck it to the whole going out thing and just order a pizza.”
Gwen chuckled darkly and shook her head. “You don’t know how much I wish that were actually an option.”
“Fucking Mal,” Luke muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. “How’s Dana?”
“Good.” Gwen nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “She says hi, and wants to know if we—me, you, and Jay—want to do something with her, Regan, and Regan’s wife Brooke Saturday night. They were thinking maybe pool?”
“I’ll have to check with the boss to make sure he doesn’t have anything planned for us, but I think that’d be fun. I’d like to meet Dana and this Regan chick you’ve told me about.”
Gwen smiled. “You’ll love them.”
Luke nodded and reached over to give her leg a quick squeeze. “With how much just talking about them makes you smile, I’m sure I will.” He took a deep breath and blew it out in a loud rush. “But, for now, we have to survive lunch with Maleficent.”
“Yeah,” Gwen sighed, hating that just the idea of lunch with Mallory and Mallory’s friends made her feel like she was headed into a painful dental procedure or something. But, she reminded herself, none of this was for her, and since Mallory had already made it clear that she was going right home afterwards to resume practicing, at least it would be over soon.
TWENTY-TWO
Gwen pushed her sunglasses up onto her head as she walked through the door Luke was holding open for her, and sighed as she made her way to the host’s podium. They had gotten stuck behind a three-car pile-up on the 101 on their way into downtown that had all but shut the entire highway down for twenty minutes—an accident Mallory and the rest of their group no-doubt missed because they had left straight from the Bowl—and the terse text message of Where are you? That she had gotten from Mallory while parked in traffic was still grating on her nerves. If Mallory had picked a restaurant in Hollywood near the Bowl instead of in the middle of downtown—a decision that was, no doubt, made to make her life easier as her loft was only a few blocks away from the gastropub—none of this would have been a problem.
“Table for two?” the young, pretty blond man working the podium asked as he began gathering menus.
“Actually, we’re meeting a group of friends,” Gwen said. “I’m assuming it’s under the name Collingswood?”
“Ah, yes,” he said, smiling politely as he nodded. “They’re on the patio. If you’ll follow me, please…”
The patio dining area at Far Bar was a narrow alley-like space between brick buildings, with square wrought iron, four-person tables stretching along one side the long, rectangular space, leaving the other half open for people to make their way from one end of the patio to the other. Strings of bare bulbs hanging from black wires stretched back and forth over the area and outdoor heaters that were currently dormant were spread amongst the seats to make dining outside during the evening more comfortable. Despite her lingering annoyance, the Old World ambiance of the space soothed some of Gwen’s nerves, and she pulled her sunglasses back on as she looked around the crowded patio, grateful for the extra armor the sunlight beaming down overhead provided her as she spotted Mallory sitting at the head of a cluster of tables near the far end of the patio that had been pushed together to form a longer, rectangular table for their group.
“Is that your group?” the host asked, motioning to Mallory, who had just thrown her head back in raucous laughter at something somebody said. The seat to her left was open, waiting for Gwen, while the only other available chair was at the other end of the table—a petty move on Mallory’s part to keep Luke at a distance, but one that really wasn’t all that surprising.
“Yeah, that’s them,” Gwen muttered. She took a deep breath as Luke’s hand brushed over the small of her back, providing her the strength she needed to put one foot in front of the other, and she forced a tight smile when Mallory’s gaze landed on her.
“Excellent. Your server will be by shortly to take your drink orders.”
Gwen nodded and turned toward Luke to address the seating arrangements that had been decided for them. “I’m…”
“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, misreading what she was going to say and yet, somehow, saying exactly what she needed to hear. He winked and leaned in, turning his head just enough that nobody at the table would be able to read his lips. “If you want to get out of here early, just give me a signal and I’ll make up an excuse for why I need to leave.”
Gwen blew out a soft sigh of relief and nodded. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure, sweetie.” He smacked her on the ass and grinned. “Go get ‘em.”
Gwen laughed and made her way to the chair next to Mallory, shaking her head at Luke’s antics while he greeted everybody else at the table with an effusive hello and a wave.
“So nice of you to join us,” Mallory greeted her, tilting her head inquiringly as she nudged Gwen’s chair away from the table with her foot.
Gwen was sure that it was supposed to sound playful, but in her current mood the jab landed with far more weight than it probably should have. “Accident on the 101,” she explained as she angled her body into the chair and pulled it up to the table. It wobbled slightly on the terra cotta tile floor, and she adjusted her weight to keep it level. “Have you guys ordered?” she asked as a busboy came by to bring her and Luke glasses of ice water.
“We waited for you. Though Tom does have a studio session in ninety minutes or so, so if you could decide quickly…” She said this loud enough for Luke to hear as well, and he rolled his eyes as he obediently picked up his menu.
“Yeah. Of course.” Gwen opened her menu and began reading, tuning out the conversation Mallory and the other first violinists picked up where they had broken off when Gwen and Luke arrived. She wasn’t particularly hungry, her insides felt too twisted with the lingering stress of driving in stop-and-go traffic and a disquieting feeling of simmering annoyance about having to endure this meal to allow much room for food, but she eventually settled on the Ahi Soba Salad.
With nothing left to distract her from the conversation happening around her, she folded her hands on her lap and sat back in her chair as Mallory said, “I leave for London on the eighteenth of August because I want to make sure I’ve adjusted to the time difference before the audition. I’ll continue to prepare once I’m there, of course, but I’ve outlined what I hope is a well-rounded schedule for my remaining time here in LA. It, of course, leaves little time for anything beyond rehearsing”—she laughed lightly—“but winning this position is the absolute most important thing in my life and, well, I’m sure you all understand.”
Gwen arched a brow at Mallory’s phrasing, but otherwise kept her expression perfectly neutral, when what she really wanted to do was throw her hands in the air with an exasperated “fuck it” and walk out the door. None of this behavior was new for Mallory, but where it used to upset her to the point of nearly being in tears, now it just really pissed her off. Maybe it was because she had finally admitted to herself that this relationship was over, or because she didn’t feel this unwanted or rejected when she was around Dana, but whatever the case, she couldn’t deny that she was just so over it all.
She cast a glance over at Luke, who was taking a rather aggressive drink of water, no doubt to keep from saying something he knew he shouldn’t, and bit the inside of her cheek as she reached for her own glass. It was easier to not be offended when she was trying to not laugh at how completely offended he was on her behalf, and she was heartened to see that both Tom and Clara had looks of did-you-really-just-say-that?! on their faces, while Andy and George—the other first violinists Mallory had invited to join them—became suddenly interested in the covers of their closed menus. Part of her wondered if people had always reacted like that when Mallory made one of her little comments, and if maybe she had been too distracted by her own hurt feelings to notice.
Their waitress arrived just then to take their orders, her appearance a perfectly-timed distraction from the tension that had settled about the table—not that Mallory seemed to notice, as she relaxed in her seat and swirled the ice cubes in her water glass in a laissez-faire manner as she rattled off her order. The rest of the group followed suit, and once the waitress had gone to submit their orders to the kitchen, the conversation picked up again, touching only briefly on Mallory’s audition before shifting to the overall theme Rhode was planning for the upcoming season at LA Phil.
“So, what do you have going on this weekend?” Mallory asked Gwen conversationally as their food was served.
“Well, Luke and I are going to go meet some friends Saturday night to play pool, and on Sunday I’m picking up my new kitten.” A tiny furrow etched itself down the middle of Mallory’s brow, and Gwen realized that she had never shared this new development with her. “Luke and Jay’s neighbor’s cat had kittens, and I’m adopting a little gray one.”
“Did you decide on a name yet?” Luke asked as he picked up his burger.
Gwen nodded. “Storm.”
“Good name.” Luke winked at her and lifted the massive burger to his mouth.
“Thanks.” Gwen grinned.
“When did you decide to adopt a kitten?” Mallory asked as the rest of their group began digging into their lunches. There was an accusing edge to her tone, like she couldn’t believe Gwen had the audacity to make a decision like that when she was in the middle of planning a cross-Atlantic relocation for them both, and normally that tone, that hint of steely disappointment would have been enough to have Gwen apologizing despite the fact that she knew she had done nothing wrong, but today she had, as Luke would so eloquently say, run out of fucks to give.
She was tired of apologizing.
Tired of pushing her own wants and needs aside in deference to keeping the waters between her and Mallory calm.
She knew Mallory was expecting an apology, knew that she was expecting her to mutter something about it being a stupid idea and then telling Luke that she couldn’t adopt the kitten after all—never mind the four hundred dollars she had spent at PetSmart on supplies Tuesday afternoon—but instead of doing anything like that, Gwen just shrugged as she picked up her fork to mix up her salad, keenly aware of the way her pulse started to race as she instead replied, “Luke floated the idea by me a few weeks ago, but I kept going back and forth on it until last weekend or so.”
“I see.” Mallory nodded, the hard line of her lips conveying her extreme annoyance with Gwen’s refusal to bend to her whim, but with a crowd around them, she would never dare make a scene. “Well, it’ll be difficult to transport a kitten to London, but not impossible if your mind is made up about this.”
Gwen bit her lip and kept her gaze focused on her salad as she reminded herself over and over again that she was only doing this to help Mallory and that it’d be over soon—though, given the way Mallory had been treating her lately, part of her wondered why she was even bothering.
Thankfully, Mallory took her silence on the whole moving a kitten to London thing as agreement and turned her attention back to her fellow violinists. “So, Clara, where in Southern California are you traveling to this weekend for Patrick’s soccer team?”
“San Diego.” Clara smiled at the small sounds of jealousy everybody made, and shook her head. “No reason to be jealous, you all. It’ll be cooler down there, for sure, but that’s about it. I’ll be out on the fields from sunup to sundown watching his team play.”
With Mallory’s attention once again directed somewhere other than on her, Gwen dared to look over at Luke, who was completely ignoring the conversation happening around them as he watched to see how she was doing. He gave her a small, wry smile and mouthed, Are you okay?
Gwen gave him a small smile and nodded, surprising herself as she realized exactly how okay she really was. Her heart was still beating a little faster than usual thanks to the rush of adrenaline that had shot through her when she had gone against Mallory’s expectations, but she didn’t regret doing it. There was not one part of her that wished that she had done anything else.
She took a deep breath and let it go slowly as she focused her attention on her meal. Soon all of this would be over and then she could come clean and finally begin to move on. Mallory’s attention flickered toward her in the course of whatever conversation the rest of the group was having now, and she forced a smile that she knew did not reach her eyes as their gazes locked.
Thankfully, Mallory was soon
pulled into conversation by Tom, though Gwen wondered if she would have picked up on her discomfort even with the distraction, and the rest of the meal passed in a blissfully uneventful blur. The bill was settled by everyone throwing a twenty onto the table to cover the cost of their meal, and Gwen closed her eyes against the nauseating feeling her deception wrought when Mallory’s lips brushed over the corner of her lips when they parted ways in the parking lot.
“Well, that was fun,” Luke drawled once they were back in her car. “How are you doing after that one?”
“Fine,” Gwen lied.
“If you say so.” Luke eyed her skeptically, but didn’t push. “So, what’s your plan for the rest of the day, Ms. Harrison?”
Gwen shrugged, grateful that he was letting the matter drop as she turned onto First and started making her way toward the freeway on-ramp. “I dunno. I’d been planning on practicing a bit this afternoon, but I’m just not in the mood right now. Do you have anything going on?”
“Nope.” He adjusted his aviators and looked out his window. “All the wedding shit is done and picked out, so I am free as a bird. You wanna go to the beach?”
“Not really. I’m not in the mood to deal with people, really, right now, but if you want to go—”
“I’m good. It was just an idea. We could always pick up our Supergirl marathon where we left off and maybe see how many episodes we can cram in before I gotta get home for dinner.”
“Or you could call Jay and have him join us if he’s not too busy with his school stuff and we could order a pizza or something for dinner.”
“Do we need ice cream, too?” Luke asked, the playfulness of his smile belied by the concern in his tone.
“It couldn’t hurt,” Gwen admitted with a sigh.
“Extra Ben and Jerry’s, then.” He reached out and lightly touched her arm to get her attention as she pulled to a stop at a red light. “You’ll let me know if I can help you with any of this?”
