by Karis Walsh
“We should get out of the car,” Andy said, not sounding convinced at all.
Brooke sighed. “Your lips are dangerous, you know.”
“Well, you’re safe from me tonight at least,” Andy informed her. “I’m not kissing you after you’ve eaten that disgusting raw tuna you like.”
She dodged Brooke’s playful slap and ducked out of the car into the rain.
Chapter Thirteen
“I have quartet practice tonight,” Andy mentioned casually on Thursday morning. “Do you want to come with me? It only lasts a couple of hours.”
“Sounds like fun,” Brooke said as she handed Andy her latte. “There won’t be any kids for me to chaperone this time, will there?”
“No kids, I promise,” Andy said. She took a sip of coffee. “Mmm. Good, as usual. And since you’ve been doing so much cooking for me, how about I take you to dinner after? Italian?”
Brooke nodded with a smile and turned back to the counter. Instead of heading straight to her music room as she usually did, Andy waited while Brooke ground beans for her own coffee. She had tackled the easy topics, and she wasn’t sure how to bring up the more sensitive one.
“I’ve asked my friend Jonas to come tonight,” Andy said when the kitchen was quiet again. “I thought you might like to meet him.”
“You’re not setting me up with some guy, are you?” Brooke asked with a smile. “I thought you were asking me on a date.”
“Of course not,” Andy said quickly. “Jonas is David’s—our cellist’s—partner. And yes, I did ask you out. I just invited Jonas to come so the two of you could talk while we practice.”
“Talk,” Brooke repeated. She stopped fiddling with the espresso machine and leaned against the counter with her arms crossed. “About what?”
“About everything,” Andy said, trying to ignore the chilly tone in Brooke’s voice. “About the changes you’ve made. Calling off the wedding and moving in with me. And about where you want to go, how to move forward.”
“And why would Jonas want to hear all of this?”
“He’s a psychologist,” Andy said. She had expected Brooke to react to the word, but she hadn’t anticipated such a furious expression would come over her face, so she pushed on quickly. “He specializes in gay and lesbian issues, and helping people deal with coming out. He’ll understand what you’re going through.”
“What I’m going through is fighting bossy and domineering people who want to take over my life!”
“I’m only trying to help you, not run your goddamned life,” Andy said, her voice escalating in spite of her attempts to stay calm.
“You set up a therapy session behind my back, and you don’t think that’s crossing a line?”
“I just thought Jonas would be nicer than your other therapist. He won’t try to tell you what to do or that your feelings are wrong.”
“But it’s okay for you to tell me what to do?” Brooke asked, pushing off the counter and glaring at Andy. “You’re just like my parents.”
“I am not like them at all,” Andy said in a clipped tone. What the hell was she supposed to do? Watch Brooke struggle to make sense of her life without trying to help? Sit back and watch her withdraw until only occasional glimpses of a vibrant, fun woman showed through? “I hate to see you so sad.”
Brooke shook her head with a humorless laugh. “You’re so damned in control of your own life, you can’t stop yourself from managing everybody else’s.”
Andy fought to steady her voice, desperate to end their argument. She certainly didn’t feel in control of this situation, or any other that concerned Brooke. “I didn’t hire Jonas as your shrink. He’s just a friend, a nice man who’s easy to talk to. No expectations. Hell, you can spend the whole time complaining about me, if you want.”
“Then I’ll need more than a couple of hours,” Brooke said. Her arms were still crossed tightly over her chest, but her mouth turned up in a brief smile. “I don’t like you thinking of me as a helpless child.”
“God, Brooke, I don’t,” Andy assured her. “I think you’re very brave. It took courage to call off your wedding, to defy your parents. I just don’t understand why you insist on doing it all on your own. I didn’t have anyone to talk to when I came out to my family, and I want it to be better for you,” Andy said, pushing away the pain her old memories caused. “If you want, I’ll call him and cancel.”
“I guess I can try,” Brooke said. “But if I’m not comfortable with him, I’m leaving.”
“You can keep the car keys, just in case,” Andy said with a relieved smile. She reached out and gently brushed Brooke’s arm before she left the room. Brooke didn’t pull away from her touch, so Andy hoped they had at least made a temporary peace.
*
Andy finished packing up her instrument and music, and came into the hall just as Brooke emerged from the bathroom. She stopped in surprise at the sight of Brooke in the blue blouse and earrings she had bought on her first day at Andy’s apartment.
“You look amazing,” she said, her admiring eyes roaming over Brooke. “That color is perfect for you.”
Andy reached out to run her finger over one of Brooke’s dangling earrings, careful not to touch her skin.
“Thank you,” Brooke said quietly. Andy turned away to find her car keys, and her composure. The sight of Brooke, apparently dressed up for their date, unwound the tension Andy had been feeling since their argument and sent her headlong into desire. She couldn’t seem to be around Brooke and feel anything neutral. Every emotion had to be extreme and disconcerting to her ordered world. She slipped into her coat, shoving her hands in its deep pockets to hide their slight tremble.
The drive to Richard’s college, where the group met for practice, took only a few minutes. Both women were silent, each locked in her own thoughts. Andy still struggled to shake off the remaining effects of their fight, and she guessed Brooke was still angry, and maybe a little anxious, about meeting Jonas. They parked next to the music conservatory, a beautiful brick building with white columns, and Andy led the way inside.
“Wow,” Brooke said as they walked through the main entrance. The small foyer led to a three-story-high open space with an arched ceiling. The classrooms and offices ranged around the perimeter of the performance area.
“The sound is great here,” Andy said, pausing with Brooke as she turned slowly in the center of the space. “We sometimes play in here if the building is empty.”
Andy and Brooke headed to a practice room on the second floor. Muted sounds from piano and voice students wafted through several of the closed doors. Andy’s group was already in the room when they entered.
“Hey everyone, this is Brooke Stanton,” Andy said, her hand on the small of Brooke’s back as she led her forward. She felt a small surge of pride as she introduced Brooke, but she reminded herself it was unfounded. She was simply introducing a friend, not a girlfriend, to her colleagues. “This is Richard Harris, first violin, Tina Nelson, second violin, and David Sidhran, cello.”
Richard shook her hand formally while David gave her an infectious smile and wave from his seat across the room.
“October Fifth, nice to finally meet you,” Tina said as she shook Brooke’s hand. Brooke gave Andy a questioning look.
“We refer to brides by their wedding date,” she said, giving Tina a glare that was gleefully waved off. “It’s less confusing that way.”
“Do you need to change my name since the wedding didn’t happen?” Brooke asked, earning an approving smile from Tina.
“No,” she said. “We’ll just add a question mark to it and call you ‘October Fifth?’ until you decide what comes next.”
Brooke laughed, but Andy quietly wondered if she had any hope of being included in what came next for Brooke.
“Jonas is in my office,” Richard said, looking up from the music he was marking with a pencil.
“Thanks,” Andy said, shaking off her gloomy thoughts. “C’mon, Brooke. Let’s go
see him.”
They walked in silence to Richard’s third floor office. Andy tapped on the half-open door, and a tall, thin man with longish hair and rimless glasses looked up with a smile.
“Andy, good to see you again,” Jonas said, rising from his chair and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “And you must be Brooke.”
Brooke shook his hand warily. “I am. And you should know I’m here under protest. Andy ambushed me”
“I said I’d cancel if you wanted,” Andy snapped.
Jonas stepped between the two women. “Andy, go practice. Now,” he added when she didn’t move. She reluctantly left the room, and Brooke turned her glowering face to Jonas.
“You have every right to feel angry,” he said in an infuriatingly calm voice that made Brooke want to slap him. He grinned as if reading her thoughts. “You’re free to go, of course, or we can sit here and talk for a few minutes. You’re not a patient and I’m not your doctor, but if you’d like an objective friend, then I’m here for you.”
“Why?” Brooke asked suspiciously.
“Because I like Andy,” he answered simply. “And she likes you.”
Brooke struggled between the desire to just walk out into the night and leave all of them behind, and the insistent need to freely talk out her worries. Two years with her therapist had convinced her that this crap didn’t work, but something about the open look in Jonas’s eyes made her want to give him a chance. She slammed down in the chair, still angry at Andy.
“Fine,” she said in a clipped voice. “We can talk.”
Jonas laughed and shut the door. “She’s going to pay for this, isn’t she?”
“I’ll find some way to make her suffer.”
“I’m sure you will,” Jonas said as he sat on the opposite side of Richard’s desk. “You know, Andy is the one who holds this quartet together,” he said with a shrug as if saying something insignificant. “She keeps the emotional brides happy and the temperamental musicians in line. It’s important for her to keep things tidy and peaceful, and that’s why she is the group’s liaison with the public.”
He laughed. “At first they tried to alternate which of them met with the brides. Richard is a nice guy and a brilliant musician, but he was so stiff and condescending that he made his bride cry. David doesn’t take anything seriously, and I love him for that, but he had his poor bride so confused with his jokes that she ended up agreeing to have the quartet play ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ as she walked down the aisle. Tina saw it as a personal challenge to sleep with hers before the wedding.” Jonas paused and gave her a wink. “Andy only did that once, that I know of.”
Brooke blushed, and he continued. “It’s not just her job to keep everyone happy and calm, it’s who she is. And if she needs to manipulate people, in a kind way of course, to keep the peace, then she’ll do that. And now you’ve come into her life, bringing chaos and change and sadness, and she doesn’t know how to handle it. I’ve never seen her lose her temper like that.”
“Are you saying I’m bad for her?” Brooke asked with a sinking heart. She might be furious with Andy for tricking her, but the thought that she might be making Andy miserable was devastating.
“Of course not,” Jonas laughed. “I think you’re exactly what she needs. A little mess in her life.”
Brooke returned his smile. “I certainly am that.”
*
About an hour later, Jonas suggested they rejoin the quartet in the practice room. “They’re playing one of David’s compositions tonight, and I haven’t heard it yet,” he said, his love for the cellist apparent in his voice.
They slid quietly into the room, not wanting to interrupt the group as they played through a series of Beatles songs that had been requested for their next wedding. Brooke sat in her chair and listened to the rendition of “And She Loves Me,” stubbornly refusing to meet Andy’s eyes when she glanced over. Her anger had worn away as she had talked to Jonas about Liz and Jake and Andy, but it didn’t seem fair to let her off the hook just yet.
What really rankled Brooke was that Andy had been exactly right about her need to talk to someone understanding and sympathetic. There was none of the pressure or judgment that had been so much a part of her other therapy experiences. She had been most surprised by Jonas’s ability to bring laughter into their conversation. She had been taught to see therapy as something stuffy and humorless, but she was able to laugh and relax, finally talking to Jonas like an old friend.
Looking back, Brooke knew her former therapist had been trying to cure her, clearly judging her feelings for Liz as wrong, or at least misguided. Jonas hadn’t challenged either her feelings or her decisions but instead gave her concrete advice about what to expect as a result of her choices, and how to talk to others about them. She had spent so many years hiding different parts of who she was from different people—her sexuality from her parents and Jake, and now her growing attraction from Andy. Jonas had no personal stake in her life choices, so she felt able to speak freely with him. He was able to describe the coming out experiences of other people, including his own as a teenager, and he managed to make her feel less alone in a way those closest to her couldn’t right now.
Jonas nudged her when the quartet started to play David’s composition. She had expected a silly, light song from the irreverent cellist, so the somber melody caught her off guard. Even to her untrained ear, it was obvious David had composed the music with his quartet in mind, and each instrument had its turn to play melody. She listened in awe as Andy’s viola soared through an intricate passage, the other instruments backing her up with the harmony. She was startled out of her fury enough to spontaneously applaud with Jonas when the last notes from Richard’s violin died out.
After David made a few notations on his pages of sheet music based on their feedback, the group chatted about the composition and about their upcoming events as they slowly put their instruments away. Brooke watched Andy interact with the rest of the group. She talked easily with them about music, but fell silent when the discussion turned more personal.
“Does everyone have big plans for Thanksgiving?” Tina asked.
“Nancy and I usually visit my family in Boston, but she won’t be able to fly this year,” Richard said. He turned to Brooke. “My wife is seven months pregnant,” he explained.
Brooke still didn’t know what she’d be doing for the holiday since Andy refused to take her home. Suddenly Brooke’s mind clicked and she smiled inwardly at her idea. Ambush me, will you? she thought. Then it’s payback time.
“Andy and I were planning a Thanksgiving dinner for just the two of us at her apartment,” she said sweetly. “We’d love to have all of you join us.”
While three members of the quartet enthusiastically jumped at the offer, and began discussing what each could bring, Andy stared across the room at Brooke, her expression shocked. Brooke finally met her gaze, still keeping her expression carefully neutral.
“When exactly did you start planning this?” Jonas whispered in her ear.
“About two seconds ago,” she said, and then raised her voice over his laughter. “It’ll be vegetarian, of course, for Andy.”
*
They drove in silence to the Italian restaurant Andy had chosen. It wasn’t until they had placed their orders and had a carafe of wine on the table that Andy trusted herself to speak civilly to Brooke.
“You know I have to go home for Thanksgiving,” she said, downing half a glass of wine in one gulp. “Now all of these people are expecting to come to my place. What am I supposed to tell them?”
“I wonder if my friend Jan really needs to go to California to see her family,” Brooke said. “I think she and Tina would like each other.”
“I’ll have to cancel, so don’t invite anyone else.”
“Andy, listen to me,” Brooke leaned across the table and waved a breadstick at her. “I’ll admit I asked everyone just to make you mad, but it’s a great idea. They’re your friends, and they are excited to
spend time with you. Wouldn’t it be more fun to be yourself there than to go to your parents’ and pretend to like men, turkey, and Amy?”
“More fun, maybe,” Andy reluctantly agreed. “But if I don’t go home, my dad will be furious. And my mom…”
“Your mom has chosen to stay with him all these years. Even if you go home and keep the peace that one day, I’m sure he finds other reasons to lose his temper during the year. You can’t control his anger.”
Andy struggled with that for several minutes, fidgeting with her wine glass until their food arrived. She had to admit that Brooke was right. She usually avoided a lot of social interaction with her quartet members, but they had seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the idea of getting together for the holiday. And she would get to spend the day with Brooke instead of with her ulcer-inducing family. Yes, she would take just this one holiday for herself, since it might be her only one with Brooke in her life. As a small sign of apology, she offered Brooke a forkful of her pasta with baby artichokes in a caper and lemon sauce.
“Mmm. I could totally make that,” Brooke sighed. “I’d give you a taste of my risotto, but it has pancetta in it.”
“Truce?” Andy asked hopefully.
Brooke speared another bite of artichoke and nodded. “I think we’re even.”
“So, are you going to tell me what you and Jonas talked about?”
“No, and I’m not going to tell you that you were right to bring us together,” Brooke informed her, swiping a piece of bread through Andy’s piccata sauce.
“Should I just move my plate to your side of the table?” Andy asked with a laugh, pouring more wine into their glasses.
“Well, that would make it easier for me to eat,” Brooke admitted without a trace of guilt. She spooned up some more risotto and slipped her hand over Andy’s where it lay on the table. “Thank you,” she said, more seriously. “Jonas and I talked about coming out and how hard it can be to go through it alone, without someone to talk to, to trust. Thank you for being there for me.” Brooke pulled her hand back. “But you need to remember that if I lean on you for support, it doesn’t give you the right to pick me up and carry me where you want me to go.”
