The applause at the end of her solo was loud.
The language was beautiful, the words pouring out of her mouth set
fluidly to the natural, organic music Adam pinned to them. The
music was all his, neither apocryphal nor old-fashioned, and she
had sung with relish, feeling attached to the past and present, and
all of culture, by the connections he had drawn. If only the
audience would feel that, too. The everyman condensed into
poetry.
They would ache for the ending as Ward
stepped into the spotlight, as Leah stood just off-stage as a
ghost, as he began to recite the poem they had all learned as
schoolchildren.
At first, it was just his voice, monotone,
methodical, his drawl completely eradicated: "Once upon a midnight
dreary, while I pondered weak and weary..."
Leah would be the one to step on stage and
say, "Nevermore." The music had started by then, as Ward's
desperation and urgency increased. The instruments brought forth a
swelling, a terror. No need to reinvent the wheel, the art here,
better to dip into nostalgia, into the shared literacy.
Ward whimpered, shouted, paced the stage.
'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil! - prophet
still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest
tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert
land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me
truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell
me - tell me, I implore
!'
And then the stage changed back to the street
where Ward had come to woo her, outside where the crowd milled
around, ignoring his madness as he spoke of his memories, his
aching love, and he fell onto the street. The music stopped to
leave him screaming, wounded and dying, at the ceiling, "And my
soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor... shall
be lifted nevermore."
He died, with a shuddering death rattle
rising from his chest. Then silence, and the cry of a bird.
The lights went out, leaving the stage in
darkness.
* * *
Leah dipped the cloth into cold cream and
wiped her face. Her hand trembled as she removed the makeup and
unmasked herself. She smiled, though she was starved and exhausted.
She had no idea if the show had gone well; it was already a blur. A
headache was forming at the base of her neck, traveling upward,
radiating.
She left her hair pinned up, regal and
exotic, and reapplied makeup, more subdued, just hiding the
wrinkles and letting herself look younger. She changed into the
velvet gown she'd worn to the last press party, already missing the
period costumes. When had she become a little girl playing dress
up? She opened the door.
Sophia flew in.
"Hi," Leah said, closing the door again,
raising her eyebrows.
"Adam let me backstage," Sophia said. "Should
I go?"
Leah shook her head.
"All right," Sophia said. She flung her arms
around Leah and hugged her tightly, pressing her cheek against
Leah's hair. Leah held her back, trying to keep them standing as
Sophia swayed. She shook a little in Leah's arms.
"Are you crying?" Leah asked.
Sophia nodded. She kissed Leah's temple. "It
was so powerful."
Leah didn't know what to say.
"You were," Sophia said. "The material was
good. And the music. And you." Sophia pulled back and looked down
at Leah's face. "I'd never seen you on stage, before. Except the
first time we met."
Leah smiled. "Now you know."
"I guess the rumors are true."
Leah reached up and brushed tears off
Sophia's face. Sophia kissed her, hard and hungry, turning her
around and pressing her against the dressing room door. She
lingered, robbing Leah of breath, smearing her makeup. Leah kissed
her back, moaning as Sophia sucked on her lower lip, and wondering
if she was making too much noise.
Sophia raised her head and sighed. "Another
party?"
"It's our job," Leah said.
"My job is over. Even the party part."
"Come on. You might meet someone famous."
Sophia smiled. She kissed Leah again, firmly
but briefly. Leah extended the kiss, and then said, "My parents
will be there."
"Do you want me to meet your parents?"
"Kind of," Leah said.
"Really?" Sophia brightened.
Leah remembered that Sophia was impossibly
young.
* * *
Leah made Sophia wait outside while she fixed
her makeup, too afraid she'd succumb to kisses, or sex, or tears.
Outside in the hall, with the stage hands and the prop master
passing by, as exhausted as she was, she could be demure with
Sophia. Calm. She took her hand and they walked side by side to the
party.
Poe
was not
Macbeth
, and the party was just
down the street.
The air outside was humid and enveloping.
Leah inhaled, feeling the weight of it settle on her, feeling
blanketed. Poe had been intense; the weather washed that from her,
reminded her that the rest of the world wasn't as crazy as
theater.
Sophia reluctantly let go of her hand as they
climbed the steps to the restaurant. Leah took it again. A bouncer
looked them over, glanced at the guest list, and waved them through
without asking their names.
"Posh," Leah said.
"You're a star."
"Stop saying that."
Sophia grinned at her and nudged her hip.
Leah poked her back.
"Ladies," Adam called, waving at them.
Leah let go of Sophia's hand to wave back. He
was standing with her parents and her sister. They'd flown in from
New York in the afternoon, and not seen Leah before the show. They
wanted the purity of the experience.
"This is so quaint," her mother said as Leah
hugged her.
"I know, mom."
Adam kissed Sophia's cheek and offered her
his glass of champagne.
"We loved you," Leah's father said. He hugged
her, and then her sister did.
"Really cool," her sister said.
"This is Sophia Medina," Leah said, and
Sophia smiled shyly, looking at them but not quite making eye
contact. "She played Lady Macbeth. At the theater. I mean,
simultaneously."
Adam stepped in. "She's the fresh young
talent in North Carolina."
"Is
Macbeth
still running?" Leah's
mother asked.
Sophia shook her head. "We closed, two days
ago."
"I'm sorry to have missed you. Leah, do you
want to have lunch tomorrow? I assume you have people to meet,
tonight."
Leah nodded. "I'll come to the hotel and pick
you up."
"We're flying out tomorrow night," Leah's dad
said to Sophia.
Someone called Sophia's name. She apologized
and went toward the voice.
"That's the mayor's wife," Adam said,
watching her go. Leah, too, watched Sophia glide across the room,
her back bare in her low-cut dress, her skin flawless. "She looks
so young," Adam said, vocalizing Leah's thoughts. Leah felt warm,
thinking of all she and Sophia had done; how impossible it
seemed.
She turned back to her parents, and asked the
dreaded question, "What did you think?"
Her mother smiled. "I think you'll always be
employed when you command a stage like that."
Adam put his arm around Leah and asked, "And
me?"
"You, too," her mother said.
"Though," her father said, "I did think the
entire thing was over-wrought, Adam. I mean, honestly, I needed a
trip to Aruba after all that hand-wringing and grief."
"Point taken," Adam said.
"It's every mother's dream to hear her
daughter sing like that," Margaret said. "Whether on stage or off.
You have the voice of an angel."
Leah was sure she turned beet-red.
With that, her parents left her, though
Jessica lingered, following her around, meeting the actors and the
crew, wide-eyed. Then she met a state senator, a pinched, older
woman in a flower print dress, decided she didn't care about North
Carolina politics, and went to rejoin her parents.
The senator introduced herself as Ann Rickson
and said, "You were striking. Amazing."
"Thank you. I owe a lot to Adam," Leah
said.
"I'm sure. What are you doing, after the
party?"
Leah raised her eyebrows. Surely a senator
wasn't hitting on her, patron of the arts or not.
Ann continued, "I mean, do you have someone
waiting for you at home? I so often wonder what the lives of true
artists are like. To be able to call up such passion."
"I--yes," Leah said, forcing herself not to
search the crowd for Sophia, wondering how she'd have answered that
question a week ago, a month ago--or would a month from now.
"That's lovely. Oh, there's the season's
artistic director. I'd better put in an appearance."
Leah nodded.
Ann smiled and shook her hand and strode away
across the room.
Leah made the rounds of the room once with
Adam, took pictures with everyone, and then found Sophia at the
bar, talking to Glick.
"One more picture?" he asked.
Leah looped her arms around Sophia and smiled
at him.
"Fabulous." He took the snapshot.
"Can we go now?" Leah asked.
Sophia nodded.
"To my place."
"Will your parents be there?"
Leah shook her head.
Sophia smiled.
On their way to the door they were stopped by
well-wishers and friends. Leah's arms ached from the flowers she
carried. She made Sophia carry some and, as they descended the
steps of the restaurant, Leah turned around to smile one more time
in the general direction of her parents. They were across the room,
watching her, and both smiled when she waved her flowers. She
turned back around, feeling like they were watching her go.
"My parents are staring," she said.
Sophia looked dumbly at her.
Leah shook her head. It would be too hard to
explain.
The house was dark. Leah dropped the flowers
on the porch to fumble for her keys. She'd been there in the
afternoon to shower, but that seemed like forever ago. The house
seemed foreign. She glanced at Sophia as she put the key in the
lock. "You don't have anywhere--to be?"
"I am. Where I want to be, I mean."
Leah felt a flush of heat. She pushed open
the door and then knelt to gather roses. She led Sophia to the
kitchen. Adam had thoughtfully set out a dozen vases and Big Gulp
cups and bowls for flowers.
"This isn't going to be enough."
"Some of these are too big, anyway."
"Let's put them in my room," Leah said.
She settled what she could in several vases
and put them on a TV tray. Sophia followed her carefully up the
stairs.
Her bedroom seemed dusty with disuse, and too
quiet. She opened a window. The sound of crickets and frogs got
louder.
She smiled. "I don't know how I'll be able to
sleep when I get back to the city."
Sophia said nothing, just put the bouquets on
the dresser, leaving Leah to put vases on the windowsill and
bedside table. The scent of flowers filled the room, mixing with
the fresh night air. She went to the window and looked out at the
quiet street. Sophia came up behind her and pressed a kiss to her
cheek.
"Help me out of my dress?" Leah asked.
"How did you get into it?"
"You don't want to know."
Sophia's hands slid up her back and found the
first clasp. Leah leaned back. Sophia tsked, but helped slide the
dress to the floor and, before Leah could turn around, unfastened
her bra. Leah, naked, turned around.
Sophia smiled shyly and Leah drew her in for
a lingering, sweet kiss. Leah's heart beat faster and she was
feeling warm and languid. The fear and the urgency of their
previous encounter hadn't returned. Opening night made her high;
Sophia made her happy. Sophia nuzzled her lips and then her
delicate tongue slipped into Leah's mouth. Leah sank against the
windowsill, jostling roses.
Distantly, the front door slammed closed, and
then Adam's voice called up, "Girls, I hope you're decent."
"Go away," Leah said.
"It's opening night," Adam shouted. "Get down
here!"
"I bet he has presents."
"I have presents," Sophia said.
"You do?"
Sophia put her hand on Leah's bare
breast.
"Oh," Leah said. She covered Sophia's hand
and pressed. "He's not going to wait forever."
Sophia squeezed.
Leah reluctantly slipped away from Sophia and
went to the dresser for sweats. She hesitated, wondering if they
were at the sweats level of their relationship. Being naked was one
thing, but--Sophia was kneeling on the floor, rummaging through the
pack she'd brought. She pulled out satin pajamas. Leah put the
sweats away and settled for a T-shirt and her most slimming jeans.
She didn't bother with anything under them.
Sophia whistled at her.
"Oh, stop."
Sophia slapped her ass.
"Hey!"
They got changed and got downstairs as Adam
began his third round of shouting. Ward sprawled on the couch in
his tuxedo, tie loosened, limp hair sticking to his face. He smiled
lazily.
The conductor and the assistant director and
the costume and set designers were there. They all applauded when
Leah made her entrance. She bowed graciously and rolled her eyes,
and then settled onto a bar stool near the kitchen.
Adam poured champagne. He raised his glass.
"To us. Whatever tomorrow's papers bring, this has been the
greatest night of my life because of all of you. Thank you."
They drank and he poured for everyone again
and opened a second bottle of champagne.
Leah glanced at Sophia and murmured, "This is
going to be a long night."
Sophia tapped her glass to Leah's.