Waiting in the Wings (29 page)

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Authors: Melissa Brayden

Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian

BOOK: Waiting in the Wings
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“Wow. Antiquing.” I made a point to sound overly impressed. “I can’t think of anything better to do in this gorgeous vacation spot than
antiquing
. I know that, for me, when the weather is a perfect seventy-three degrees and the sun is shining, I have an implicit need to hunt down dusty old furniture.”

She slugged me in the arm. “Stop that. It just so happens that antiquing is a lot of fun, thank you very much. There’s something utterly thrilling about the hunt; identifying the antique, negotiating, bargaining, and then taking your new, rare find home. You should try it. In fact, I insist you do. You’re coming with me.”

I rubbed my arm. “If it means you won’t hit me again.” “We’ll play it by ear.” Adrienne arched one eyebrow and gave

me goose bumps in the process. She jumped up and brushed the sand from her clothes. “I have to shower first at the hotel. I’ll pick you up in an hour at the cottage. Be ready.” I offered a halfhearted salute, wondering what kind of afternoon I was getting into. I spent the next few moments watching her jog down the beach with much appreciation. Oh, what a slippery slope…


The doorbell sounded exactly one hour later. Adrienne was always on time, I reminded myself. That was one thing we had in common. As I pulled open the door, I saw a newly transformed Adrienne, now sporting a green sundress and lipstick. Gone was the rough-and-tumble athlete of this morning. She was now fresh- faced and stunning as ever. I admired her changed look maybe a bit too long. Her mischievous smile told me she’d noticed. “You clean up nice,” I finally said. “I think I might be underdressed though.” I glanced down at my jeans and tank top.

“Are you kidding? I love you in jeans. It’s your best look. Now come on, the clock is ticking and we have several spots to hit.” She popped on her oversized sunglasses and led the way to a navy blue convertible beetle parked in the driveway.

I pulled the passenger’s side door open. “Is this your car?” “I’m a New Yorker, I don’t have a car. It’s a rental.”

“It’s cute. It works for you.”

“Thanks. What do you LA girls drive?”

“I drive a BMW M3.”

She whistled low. “Nice. I can see that.” She raised her sunglasses and regarded me. “Someone’s made some money.”

“Not as much as you’re thinking. The car’s my one luxury. I’ll probably need to sell it though, when I move to the city.”

She glanced over at me as she drove. “So you really might move to New York permanently? You’re serious about that?”

“That’s my plan. Now that I have a job. Speaking of which, give me the update on
Cabaret
. I haven’t seen any reports in the trades on who’s playing Fraulein Sally Bowles.”

“Well, look again on Monday. I signed the contract two days ago.”

“Really? And you’re just now telling me this? That should have been the first thing out of your mouth,” I said incredulously. “Honestly though, I’m very proud of you for taking the leap. You’re going to be awesome.”

“I simply took some very wise advice.” “The wisest,” I echoed. “Genius caliber.”

She laughed and hit the accelerator, taking us swiftly through the twists and turns of the small town, the breeze lifting our hair as we drove. We finally pulled to a stop in front of a quaint little store with several rocking chairs in the picture window up front. The sign above the shop read Merritt Antiques.

Adrienne’s face was lit up with something close to religious adoration. “See those chairs?” she asked quietly.

I followed her gaze. “I do.”

“People drive hundreds of miles to this very store to snatch up one of those guys. They’re Victorian Platform Rocking Chairs, most of which are rumored to be in great condition. Normally, these chairs sell for six, seven hundred dollars. It’s our goal to seal the deal at no more than four fifty.”

“And how is it we plan to do this?” I asked, completely taken with her excitement.

She thought for a moment before settling on an answer. “I plan to be charming.”

“Charming,” I murmured. “Very crafty of you. And does that usually work?”

“Sometimes.”

“Oh, well that sounds promising. Let’s give that a shot.”

We walked up the winding sidewalk to the small store when something in the window caught my attention. “Wait, the sign says All Prices Firm.”

She shook her head. “The sign lies. It’s part of the game.”

I nodded. There was a lot to learn. As my hand found the doorknob, Adrienne reached out and covered it with hers, arresting my progress. “Probably better if you let me do the talking,” she whispered. “That won’t be a problem,” I whispered back. “I’ll look around

while you work your antique magic.”

Once inside, I kept my promise and decided to give Adrienne plenty of room to negotiate. As she examined each rocking chair in detail, I moved through the store silently studying the eclectic group of objects I found there: cabinets, pressed glass, oil lamps, cast iron tools, and of course, many more rocking chairs. A jewelry counter at the back of the store caught my attention and I wandered over. I stared through the glass, scanning each piece in the display case before zeroing in on a beautiful silver locket. On the front was an applied decoration in the shape of an anchor, slightly raised.

“The anchor was a sign of stability and hope in the Victorian era,” a voice informed me. I looked up at the older woman smiling back at me from behind the counter. She had rosy cheeks and kind eyes. “Would you like to see it?”

I returned her smile. “I would.” She picked up the locket delicately from the case and placed it in my hand. It was small, but certainly noteworthy. I ran my thumb over the anchor, fascinated by its rough texture. I flipped the locket over and was met with nothing but a smooth expanse of sterling, quite a contrast to the front. There was a small inscription at the bottom.

To My Love, Forever is Ours
.

I stared hard at those words and wondered who had selected them and for whom. How had their forever played out? Had they lived the rest of their lives together as promised, or had it ended in unexpected heartbreak? In that moment, I’d have given anything to know. I handed the locket back to the shopkeeper and thanked her for her assistance.

“Anytime,” she said.

I found Adrienne still at the front of the store, deep in conversation with an older gentleman, most likely the husband of the woman I’d spoken with. Adrienne was smiling and laughing, doing her best to be charming, I supposed.

“You have to try the chocolate ice box pie at Alberta’s Bakery,” I heard the man say as I approached. He was shaking his finger at Adrienne as if to chastise her. “It is the best this town has to offer in the way of homemade desserts and well worth a trip over there.” “I’ll definitely put it on the to-do list. I’m a bit of a pie

aficionado.”

Okay, now that part was true. I could attest to Adrienne’s affinity for all things sweet. She’d sell out her own grandmother for a worthwhile piece of chocolate almond fudge. Once she saw me standing there, Adrienne tugged on my elbow and pulled me into the conversation.

“Jenna, you have to see this chair. Arthur says he can work with me on the price. It’s perfect for my place in the city, don’t you think?”

Truth be told, I’d never seen her place in the city, but I was an actress and I could take cues. This must have been part of her bargaining strategy. So without missing a beat I said, “Oh wow, you’re right. It would compliment your other…pieces nicely.”

“That little beauty there is listed at six twenty-five,” Arthur said. He stroked his chin. “But because you are such a darling young lady, I can see my way to letting you take it for five fifty.”

Adrienne seemed to mull this over for a few moments, looking the chair over once more. “Would you take four fifty, perhaps?” She batted her lashes at him for added effect. I had to resist rolling my eyes at her obvious tactic, but was also a little amused by it.

Arthur shook his head as if she were twisting his arm and he didn’t know if he could bare it. “Five twenty-five, firm, and that’s as low as I’ll go, even for a pretty girl. What do you say?”

“I’d say there are some mighty attractive ladies in the store today, Pop.” The male voice from over my shoulder took me by surprise. I turned around to find none other than Ethan, the friendly volleyball player, standing there grinning at us.

“Did you say Pop?” I asked.

“That I did. This is my father, Arthur Merritt, and this is my family’s store.” He raised his eyebrows at me quizzically. “I gave you my card, but I take it from the surprised look on your face you’re not here to see me.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell Ethan I hadn’t looked at the card, but instead nodded and did a circular gesture as if putting it all together. “No, actually we were doing a little antiquing today and just stopped in. I think Adrienne and your father are doing some really intense wheeling and dealing. I don’t know who to root for.”

Arthur laughed and Adrienne did her damndest to look appropriately betrayed, but eventually smiled back at me.

“Well, maybe I can help,” Ethan said. “What is your friend hoping to pay for this chair?”

I looked at Adrienne and when I received a nod of approval, I

leveled with him. “Four fifty.”

He seemed to consider the offer for a moment or two. “What would you say to…sold?”

“I’d say I think I’m a prodigy at this whole antique thing.” “Beginner’s luck,” Adrienne mumbled quietly to Arthur as

she leaned into the arm he’d placed around her in congratulations. “Would you consider shipping it for free?” she asked, looking up at him with big hopeful eyes.

“Not a chance,” he said. Ethan and I burst into laughter as the pitiful look on Adrienne’s face was simply too much.

For the rest of the afternoon, Adrienne dragged me from store to store as she rummaged through piles of knickknacks, examined a million pieces of furniture, and chatted up the local shop owners. Admittedly, this was so not my element. After the second store, I found myself more interested in watching Adrienne than doing any real shopping. I noticed how adorable she was when deep in thought. Pensive was a good look on her. She also had a habit of tucking her hair behind her ear when she was having trouble making up her mind about something. My favorite though had to be the smile that would start at her eyes and overtake her entire face when she stumbled onto something she considered a rare find. She would hold it up and show it to me, a proud grin on her face as if the item would change her entire life. She took joy in the simple things. She always had, I reminded myself. It was contagious and being around her seemed to brighten my outlook.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked as she drove me back to the cottage. The sun was setting, and the pinks and oranges

swirling on the horizon had such a calming effect. It made the drive peaceful, serene.

“Just basking in the glory of my antique success, I suppose.

You have to admit I had the biggest score of the day.” She looked at me, dubious, but said nothing.

“Come on, without me you would have never gotten that

rocking chair for less than five hundred dollars.”

“Oh, you mean without you and your not-so-secret admirer. Are you going to give him a call and maybe go to dinner sometime? He’s pretty handsome, Jen.”

“Let’s ask the Magic Eight Ball in my head.” I paused for effect. “It says ‘outlook not so good,’ which is great news because he’s not really my type.”

“Oh, well. Easy come, easy go. But seriously, thank you for coming with me today. I hope it wasn’t too painful.”

“I had a lot of fun.” “You did?”

“Of course I did. It wore me out though. I think I need sustenance.”

She looked at her watch. “Wow, I guess it is late. Time flies.” She pulled into the driveway and slowed the car to a gentle stop. She seemed nervous. “I guess I’ll see you soon. How long are you staying again?”

“Until Tuesday. I have the cottage for two more nights. What about you?”

“Well, I checked out of the hotel. I was going to head back tonight, since my plans with Kim changed.”

“Why don’t you stay?” I asked. It was impulsive, I know, but I promised myself and Lanie that I’d take a few more chances, and that’s exactly what I was doing.

Adrienne stared hard at the steering wheel as her thumb traced the pattern of the leather. She looked up at me, her eyes clouded with confusion. “Honestly, Jenna, I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

I understood and could identify. Instead of black and white, there seemed to be all shades of gray. I didn’t have all the answers, but I knew for certain I didn’t want her to leave for the city tonight.

“I have the extra room. You’re welcome to stay. Or there’s always the couch. You seem to like the couch.”

She managed a grin. “It is pretty comfortable. But are you sure? After everything, maybe it’s just best I go.” She looked back at the steering wheel.

“Age, look at me.” She dropped her hands completely from the wheel and forced herself to raise her chin. Our eyes locked. “You and I have some bumpy history. We have to acknowledge that. And yes, there are some issues between us that aren’t exactly resolved, but we’re doing okay, right?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Then come inside and let’s order a pizza because Lord knows we’re both too tired to cook.”

She nodded once, a small smile making its way to her lips, and we made our way into the house.


It was after nine, and the half-empty pizza box taunted me from across the table. I’d already eaten two slices and decided it was best I leave it there if there was even the slightest chance I’d be working in a high intensity dance show in the near future. “Can I interest you in another?” I asked, opening the box for Adrienne.

“Tempting, but no. You have to admit it was pretty good pizza, and I’m a New Yorker so that says a lot.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Whatever. You New Yorkers think you have the market sewn up when it comes to pizza.” I carried the box to the fridge. “But I’ll have you know there are other fine pizzerias in the world. Boston has some great ones, by the way.”

“I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree on this one because it’s clear to me you’ve never been to Lombardi’s and are thereby operating without all the information. I forgive you for what you do not know.”

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