Little Disquietude (23 page)

"And you're daddy's girl?"

"Always. My parents like to set my sister and
I against each other, to have their fights for them."

"Today?" Sophia asked, her eyes drifting shut
as Leah's thumb traced her jaw.

"My sister said me being gay was the universe
punishing me with bad karma. Or something."

"But--" Sophia swallowed as Leah's fingers
brushed the curve of her ear. "You get to date me."

"That was pretty much my father's
opinion."

Sophia took Leah's wrist and brought it to
her lips to kiss.

Leah asked, "Your place or mine?"

Sophia tilted her head back and regarded
Leah. "What, no party?"

"Nope. I just have to meet some backers, and
then go back to my ordinary, non-partying life."

"Thank God."

Leah pulled back and went to the makeup chair
to wash her face. "Where are you from?"

"Florida?"

Leah could tell by Sophia's expression,
reflected in the mirror, that Sophia had no idea why she was
laughing so hard.

* * *

"Where will you go?" Leah asked.

Sophia shifted. Her cheek pressed against
Leah's belly, below her breasts, and Leah could only see the corner
of one eye. "Miami, first, for a week. After I have an audition on
Thursday in Jacksonville. They might want me to join the tour of
Reckless
."

"Are you reckless?" Leah asked.

"That's going to get old fast."

Leah stroked Sophia's hair. "Then what?"

"Where are you going?" Sophia asked, instead
of answering.

"New York."

"Do you miss it?"

"Every moment," Leah said, surprising
herself. "I wanted to get away. I guess this is why."

Sophia turned her head and kissed Leah's
skin.

"I can't believe after all that rehearsal
time, the show's over in a week," Leah said.

"Everything is fleeting," Sophia said.

"Tell that to the Venus di Milo."

"And what is she, when her jewelry has been
stolen and her paint faded away?"

"Fucking beautiful," Leah said.

Sophia laughed, and then dragged herself up
Leah's body to kiss her.

Every time they made love that night, Leah
wondered if it would be the last time.

* * *

Sophia went to Jacksonville. Leah moped. She
spent her days in the house, lying in bed, playing the piano, and
eating ice cream late into the night with Adam after the
performances. She was wan and emotionless in daylight, and at eight
o'clock each night she exploded on stage, working through her
grief, taking it out on Ward.

He had his own demons to deal with; He was no
longer sleeping at the house, and Adam didn't mention him during
their late-night chats. One night, Leah turned her back on him on
stage, and he left marks on her arm when he pulled her back. Two
nights later, she slapped his face, unscripted, improvised, and
Adam gasped loudest of anyone in the audience.

Ward bit her ear. They tussled. They sang.
She lost her voice on Friday, and spent the whole performance
whispering her words into her microphone when she didn't have to
sing. Ward softened his voice to match, and though neither of them
cried, singing to each other, pale and tired of it all and wishing
they were somewhere else, Leah felt whole at the end, with Ward's
hand in hers as they took their bows.

Adam burst into her dressing room, and said,
"Leave the makeup on."

"And the wig?" she asked.

"Please?"

"Adam."

"It's Girl Scouts. They won't know who you
are without the makeup."

"Adam."

He narrowed his eyes.

She sighed. It was probably true. She went
and signed autographs and cringed only inwardly when the dumber
girls called her Virginia and the smarter girls complained about
Ward's bleach-blond hair. She'd heard "Quoth the raven" too much in
that week and never wanted to hear it again.

"I'm not doing this Off-Broadway," she told
Adam as he passed her a glass of champagne. People filed out of the
lobby, some lingering to look at the production shots or read the
bad review Adam had placed behind a glass panel.

"What? Why not?" Adam asked.

"Because I dream at night of the word
'Nevermore,' ringing in my ears."

Adam smiled.

"It's annoying. What do you dream of?"

He looked wistful.

She took pity on him and said, "Let's go
home."

They walked along the sidewalk together. She
wore her garb, promising Loretta she wouldn't ruin the fabric or
lose her wig.

"Do you miss Ward?" she asked.

"Not really, but kind of," he said.

"Adam, you're a playwright. Please try," she
said.

Adam grinned. "I miss having someone warm and
hard to go home with. But--did it have to be him?"

She nodded.

"I'll get over it," Adam said, and sighed.
"Eventually. Man, that man was talented. Like a male version of
you."

"Please don't tell me that's why you slept
with him," Leah said.

"No."

"Or that I'm an ass."

Adam took her elbow and leaned into her and
said, "You're kind of an ass."

"Oh, you silver-tongued charmer," she
cooed.

"Do you miss Sophia?"

"Um."

Adam frowned, and asked, "Do you have her
hiding in your closet?"

"No, no. We just talk every morning."

"Not at night?"

"Well, it's late. She who does not have a
play does not stay up until two in the morning to talk to me," Leah
said.

"Oh, it'll never work."

"Unless she gets a play."

"Or that," Adam said.

She nodded. A breeze rustled the leaves of
the ancient oak trees they passed. She inhaled. She'd miss the
night here, the walks, the peace and quiet of one car passing in
the distance, and not hundreds. No one ever honked their horns.

"So, how's the phone sex?" Adam asked,
breaking the stillness.

"Adam!"

He looked innocently at her.

She exhaled, and said, "It's fantastic."

He wrapped his arm around her as they climbed
the porch stairs together. She unlocked the door. He asked, "Who
knew you getting laid would make you a moodier actress than
ever?"

"Shut up."

"See?"

* * *

The last performance was no more unique than
the first or the fourth, except the dialogue was getting stale and
Ward was getting hoarse and sweated all over her. The crowd had
thinned for the last three nights, but for the last performance,
all the schools with theater programs came out. Leah looked into
their young, aspiring faces, thought of the crew backstage who went
to UNC all day and then hammered things and dressed her at night,
and tried not to miss her next line.

Then she survived the cast party and went
home and fell asleep, and since no one called, and Sophia was on a
plane somewhere else, she didn't wake up until nearly eleven. Adam
was in his bedroom, packing.

"We're seriously flying out tonight?" she
asked.

"Seriously," he said.

"We rehearsed for weeks, did the
show--shouldn't we, I don't know, ease out of things? The way we
eased in?"

"Maybe, but it's over, Leah."

She sat on the bed and watched him fold his
shirts.

"Don't you want to go home?" he asked.

She did. The thought of New York filled her
mind and her mouth actually watered. She couldn't wait to be home.
"I'm going to pack."

* * *

The plane was at the gate and Leah was
wondering why there wasn't more security at the tiny RDU airport
when Sophia called.

"How's Florida?" Leah asked.

"Remind me why I came back to see my
family."

"Oh, please don't do that. I'm about to go
see mine."

Sophia chuckled quietly against the
receiver.

"We're boarding in a few minutes," Leah
said.

"New York, New York," Sophia sang. And then
she said, "I got a call from my agent about
Reckless
. I
didn't get the part."

"I'm sorry," Leah said. Her heart sank with
the sadness in Sophia's voice. "I know you're good enough."

"Sure. Just not what they're looking
for."

"Well, you're what I'm looking for," Leah
said, and then blushed with the inanity of her mouth.

"I hope so," Sophia said. Her voice was more
serious than flirtatious, and Leah pressed her ear against the
phone. Sophia continued, "I think I know where I'm going next. I
want to take advantage of the real contacts I've made--to use my
friends. It's a gamble, but--"

"But?" Leah's heart beat in her chest so hard
that it pushed out almost all sound and oxygen. She scarcely dared
to hope.

"But it's New York. It's the theater capital
of the world."

"And if you fail, you can always play a
corpse on
Law and Order
."

"I won't fail," Sophia said, "If you'll have
me. Help me?"

Leah imagined herself asking something like
that of Adam. She wouldn't have had the strength to ask outright.
And he loved her. Sophia--"I'll help you," she said.

She didn't wonder, "Help you do what? Step
over me?" She only thought of the fun they could have on a dozen
different stages, of all the things she wanted to show Sophia in
New York.

Leah said, "Yes. Come to New York. Come
home."

END

* * *

C. E. Case is a librarian and musical theater
fan in Northern Virginia.
Little Disquietude
is her first
novel.

Discover more at
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/supposed