Two on the Aisle

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Two on the Aisle Page 27

by Robbi McCoy


  Sophie and Wren turned to look at one another in amazement. Then they left the clearing, walking hand in hand on a curving path, the lights of the party dimming in the distance. Before leaving the park, they stopped and looked back at the flickering lights, looking not unlike forest sprites.

  “This has been a magical night,” Sophie observed.

  “Oh,” Wren said, leaning against her, “the magic has just begun!”

  Sophie nodded. “‘Lovers to bed; ’tis almost fairy time.’”

  Raven and Kyle emerged from the shadows, running after them along the path, their filmy green wings flapping behind them.

  “Wait for us!” called Raven. “We’re going home too.”

  “And here come the fairies,” Wren observed with a lighthearted laugh.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

  As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

  Are melted into air, into thin air...

  We are such stuff

  As dreams are made on; and our little life

  Is rounded with a sleep.

  —The Tempest, Act IV, Scene 1

  Clustered around a table too small to fit four comfortably, Raven, Kyle, Wren and Sophie shared a piece of blackberry cobbler topped with vanilla ice cream at Pirandello’s, a casual chic dinner restaurant in downtown Ashland. Every time Sophie glanced at Wren, they both broke into joyful smiles tinged with gratitude. Gratitude extended to one another and to the universe at large for bringing them together. Wren was suffused with happiness.

  “If you were going to write about this dessert,” Kyle asked, “what would you say?”

  “I’d say,” Wren began, knowing such a review would never be written. She smiled to herself. “Let’s just say it’s yummy and leave it at that.”

  Sophie looked fondly at Wren and took another bite, her expression revealing that she was thinking about the previous night, better in many ways than their first night together because neither of them had been holding back this time. Neither of them had been afraid of true feeling creeping into their bed. And true feeling definitely had crept in, adding love to their lovemaking. Wren put her hand over Sophie’s where it lay on the table between them.

  The wait staff seemed to be on heightened alert all of a sudden as they set a large table for five in a corner, adding a burgeoning vase of fresh freesias. None of the other tables had flowers, Wren noticed. When the waiter brought their check, she asked, “Who’s that table for?”

  “The famous food critic, Eno Threlkeld,” the waiter gushed. “He has a reservation at seven. Very exciting!”

  The waiter bared his teeth in a smile, then left.

  “Indeed!” Wren said.

  “God, this is so confusing,” Sophie said. “That’s the real Eno, right?”

  Raven nodded. “Whose real name is apparently Eric.”

  Right on time, Eno’s party arrived to the delight of the entire restaurant staff, who greeted him with an overflow of goodwill and led him to his roomy table. Eno wore a sport coat and tan slacks. On his arm was his wife Tammy. His mother, brother Klaus and Dena, wearing a lime green skirt and matching knit jacket, followed him in, all of them smiling and carrying themselves like royalty.

  Raven waved at them and they all waved back as they took their chairs.

  “What a surprise to run into him after all these years,” Wren said.

  “And what a surprise for him to find his mother and brother,” Raven added. “All’s well that ends well, I always say.”

  The four of them laughed.

  “I think he’s going to enjoy this meal,” Wren suggested, watching a waiter pour Eno’s bottled water into a goblet with a curl of lime zest. Their water, served in tumblers, had been tap water.

  “An appetizer to start, sir,” the waiter asked Eno. “On the house. The cold lobster ravioli with saffron cream is an excellent choice.”

  Wren sighed and turned back to her companions. “And that’s why I didn’t let them know who I was.”

  “How could you resist?” Kyle asked. “They’re going to give that guy the best meal he’s ever had.”

  “I hope he enjoys the attention while he can. As soon as Bâtarde’s exposé hits the wire, the mystique of Eno Threlkeld will be over.” Wren looked fondly at Sophie.

  “You don’t seem very upset,” Kyle observed.

  “The curtain comes down on every show eventually.”

  “But you could still write restaurant reviews, couldn’t you?” Kyle asked. “You could find a different name. Annie Laurie, for instance. Or be yourself. Do it out in the open and get treated like that guy wherever you go.” He indicated Eno with a nod of his head.

  “You’re right, Kyle. I could. And I may go back to it someday, but for now I feel like embarking on a new path.”

  “What path would that be?” Raven asked, licking his spoon.

  “Tallulah Rose Creamery,” Sophie said, “could use another hand now that Klaus is going seriously into the baking business.”

  “You’re going to milk goats?” Raven asked, incredulous.

  “And plant beets and carrots,” Wren added. “Put down a few roots.”

  “What did I tell you?” Raven said. “Three weeks and they’re moving in together. Women are just no good at casual sex.”

  Wren looked at Sophie and laughed. “What would you say, Sophie?”

  “I’d say he’s dead wrong. You were fantastic at it.”

  “I’d say the same about you. Mind-blowingly good at casual sex. And equally good at the more serious kind.”

  “I think we should celebrate,” Kyle suggested. “Let’s go over to the Stratford Inn and have a bottle of champagne.”

  “Good idea,” Raven agreed. “I’m just going to say hey to Eno before we go.” He skipped over to Eno’s table.

  “Meet you outside,” Kyle said, scooting his chair back. “Got to use the little boy’s room.”

  Sophie leaned her head against Wren’s and wound their arms together. “They’re right, you know. We were no good at casual sex.”

  “I know. Honestly, how would we even know that? We were in love before we ever kissed one another.”

  “Then spent a lot of time pretending we weren’t.”

  Wren turned her head and kissed Sophie’s mouth. “I love you, Sophie Ward.”

  “And I love you, Wren Landry.”

  Wren and Sophie went outside into the still-light evening. A half a block down the street, in front of Sprouts, stood Cleo, Max, Ellie, Ellie’s father Anthony, and a beautiful young woman Wren didn’t recognize. The young woman was dressed casually in a twill pantsuit. She hung upon Anthony’s arm. No longer an Athenian, he wore a tan sports jacket and navy blue slacks and looked like an unremarkable family man in his fifties.

  As they approached, the young woman on Anthony’s arm looked in their direction and suddenly Wren knew she was looking at Cassandra. Wow! she thought, what a transformation! Cassandra’s thick hair, previously so wild and unkempt, was pulled tight into a ponytail. She looked completely different and not the least bit scary.

  “I’d forgotten how attractive Cassandra was,” Sophie remarked.

  The Marcus family stopped at the corner to wait for a light. Ellie waved toward them. Cassandra’s face lit up at the sight of them. She let go of her father’s arm and came running over.

  “Hi,” said Wren. “I guess you’ll be going back on stage now, won’t you? You and your father both. I’m looking forward to seeing you perform.”

  Cassandra suddenly transformed her face into the visage Wren had so dreaded during the past three weeks and held her arm out, pointing her index finger. “Beware the ides of March!” she hissed. Then she laughed in sheer delight and ran back to her family as they crossed the street.

  “No, no!” Wren objected, stamping her foot. “Shit!”

  “Oh, dear.” Sophie reached out and put a comforting arm around her. “Try to forget that,” she advised, “between
now and March.”

  Her laughter was interrupted by a clattering, clanging metallic sound in the distance. As they stood on the sidewalk, the sound grew louder. Around the corner came a silver sedan trailing strings of empty cans all banging on the pavement.

  Wren peered into the car, seeing a man and woman in the front seat. The car neared and moved slowly past them. On the back was a “Just Married” sign.

  “Oh, my God!” yelled Sophie. She took off running toward the car.

  Confused, Wren ran after her and caught up at the next stop sign where Sophie was at the passenger side window. As she arrived, Wren realized it was Olivia in the car.

  “Mom!” Sophie called. “What are you doing?”

  “We got married,” Olivia replied, grinning ear to ear. “What does it look like?”

  Dr. Connor sat behind the wheel wearing a blue suit and tie. His eyes twinkled joyfully.

  “Just like that?” Sophie asked. “Without saying anything?”

  “No time to plan a big to-do,” Olivia explained. “Warren has to leave tomorrow for Zambia and I’m going with him.”

  “You’re leaving? For how long?”

  “Three months. Maybe longer if he signs up for another tour. Don’t worry, Sophie. You’ll be fine now that you’ve got your pretty little Wren here, won’t you?” Olivia patted Wren’s hand where it rested on the windowsill.

  Wren nodded. “Congratulations, you two!”

  “I’ll see you at home,” Olivia said. “You can make a toast to us and then I’ve got to pack.”

  The car moved off, clanging loudly, rounded a corner and disappeared from view. Wren and Sophie returned to the sidewalk.

  Sophie looked stunned. Still staring at the empty street, she said, “I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Really?” Wren hugged Sophie’s arm close. “Everybody all paired up and happy? You didn’t see that coming?”

  Sophie smiled crookedly, then kissed Wren on the mouth as the clattering of the newlyweds’ car receded into the distance.

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