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Solace & Rosanna Ch. 02

By: Alacia



Rosanna had walked five blocks before she found herself stopping and slowly turning around to see if Sol was still standing there. Why? Why did she care? She didn’t. She let out a low moan. Solace had already gone. What did it matter? Mattie was expecting her for dinner and she definitely did not want to be late. That was another trait they shared—punctuality. Sol had not known the meaning of the word. Mattie was always ready when she was supposed to be. Never more would Rosanna have to wait by the bathroom door arms crossed over her chest, until Sol got it together, trying to work miracles with that wild mane of hair. That hair—so thick, so lovely! Stop it! 

She had decided to walk to the California Pizza Kitchen where she was to meet Matilda. She was early. Why had she left so much time? Did she think she was going to speak longer with Solace? She had told Solace that she hadn’t had too much time. She had lied. When had she begun doing that? There were too many damned questions and not enough acceptable answers. She felt a headache coming on. Oh shit! Not now. She reached into her briefcase, pulled out a bottle of Advil and dry-swallowed three pills. Bad idea. The sweet tablets lodged in her throat like boulders. She tried to swallow, but it was impossible. She thought she was going to choke. She had to get something to drink. She spotted a deli across the street and ran for it.

In the small grocery store, she located a soda case and grabbed a can of Diet Coke, a particular weakness. Mattie shared her taste in beverages as well. What a breath of fresh air. Sol had always admonished her for her diet soda addiction decrying that it contained cancer-causing agents. Rosanna would always counter with that was how she kept her slim figure. She was standing at the checkout counter when a soft voice jolted her out of her thoughts.

“Rosanna? Ross Romero?” 

Rosanna whirled around and found herself staring into a very familiar pair of eyes that belonged to her high school friend, Casey Deans.

“Casey?” Rosanna sputtered. 

“It’s me. It’s good to see you. You look great!” Casey smiled and extended her hand. Rosanna did not have the chance to offer hers as the clerk impatiently chimed in. “One-fifty for the soda, please?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry” Rosanna plunged her hands into her pockets for some coins, but came up empty. Ohmigod, she thought!. I don’t have any change. I never have change. What was I thinking? Mattie was right, I should always have at least two dollars in real money on me. She was right about so many things.

“One fifty, please, Miss.” The clerk was beginning to slide the soda back towards his side of the counter.

“No! Wait! I must have some change here somewhere!” Rosanna could feel herself beginning to blush from sheer mortification. Here she was the CEO of her company and she didn’t even have two damned dollars for a soda. 

“Here.” said Casey, placing two dollars on the counter.

“No. Casey, please. You don’t have to do that.” I’ll—“ Rosanna stammered, remembering why she had needed the soda in the first place as her throat began to burn.

“I know I don’t have to do it. Obviously, I was sent here to be your guardian angel and help you out in a moment of sheer embarrassment, so just say thanks.” She delivered her last line with a lift of her right eyebrow as she collected her change and stepped aside for the next customer.

“Thank you, Casey. I’ll pay you back.” Rosanna said and smiled for the first time that day.

She remembered that Casey had always been a wise-ass, but that had been part of her charm. Thinking of Casey’s other charms would definitely get her in a lot of trouble right now. 

“Well, if you’re bent on doing that you’ll just have to give me your e-mail address, home address, telephone numbers for your job and home because I always collect my debts!” Casey said this with a mischievous smile and a gleam in her eyes. 

“Wow! All that? You really do intend to collect.” 

Casey moved to a relatively secluded area; Rosanna followed. They stopped and Casey pulled out her PDA and Rosanna popped the top on the soda and took a long-awaited drink. The pills slid down and she felt instantly better. At least her headache would be kept at bay. Now all she had to worry about was her blood pressure! 

Casey had been an extremely attractive young woman in high school and she was impossibly beautiful now. She had a roundness to her figure, which gave her that voluptuous, come-and-take-me look. She had the same liquid brown eyes and long, wavy auburn hair. Aye Dios mio! I really am stressed out.

“Hello! Anybody in there? Ross! Your e-mail address, phone number, something?” Casey was saying as she knocked gently on Rosanna’s forehead.

Rosanna’s concentration was legendary, which was one of the reasons for her successful business. What? Ohmigosh! I’m so sorry, Casey! I’m just really distracted. Rosanna answered lamely. If Casey could read her mind, she would disappear for another ten years!

“I can see that.” 

Rosanna rattled off her information. She took out her own small notebook, jotted down Casey’s phone number and e-mail address and dropped the notebook in her suit pocket. 

“Hey, Ross, would you like to get a coffee or something?” Casey asked nonchalantly. “We could shoot the shit about old times.” She placed a hand on Rosanna’s arm. 

Boy, it was warm in here! For a fleeting second, Rosanna considered the tempting offer. She had secretly harbored a huge crush on Casey in high school. She never told her because she thought it would ruin their friendship. Casey had been very popular—with the boys, so Rosanna didn’t think she stood a chance and was too shy to try. 

“I would love to, Casey, but I have a dinner engagement.” Rosanna said a bit more formally than she had intended.

“A dinner engagement, huh? Sounds serious!” 

“I guess you could say it is--kind of” Rosanna mumbled as she ran a trembling hand through her hair. For something to do, she moved toward the door, opened it and waited while Casey stepped outside. “Which way are you going?” she asked as they stood on the sidewalk. 

“Downtown—to the Kitchen.” Rosanna answered, checking her watch. She still had some time, but she might not be able to walk all the way.

“The Kitchen?” Casey asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry…the California Pizza Kitchen.” 

“They have one here? I practically lived in the one in Florida.” Casey said with a wistful smile. “They have excellent food.”

“Yes, we go there all the time.” Rosanna replied. She removed her sunglasses from an inner pocket and put them on because the evening glare was very strong and she didn’t think she would be able to see. 

“Well, I’ll walk with you. I live on 70th.” Casey said.

“Are you sure? Rosanna asked.

“Am I sure I live on 70th street? Yes, I think so. “Come on.” Casey smiled and they started walking.

“Smart ass!” Rosanna said playfully.

“Some things never change.” Casey shot back with a grin.

As they walked, they began an easy reminiscence about the bygone days and Rosanna remembered how close they had been and how comfortable they had felt talking with each other—about most things. Casey had told Rosanna about all of her dates: the good, the bad, and the absolutely horrible. And Rosanna had confided her fears about her future.

As they walked along 74th street, paying attention only to each other and not where they were going, Rosanna caught her heel in a crack in the sidewalk and fell forward on her hands and knees. 

“Oh hell!” she cried.

“Are you all right?” Casey asked in concern, reaching out a hand to help Rosanna to her feet.

Now haven’t I heard that before very recently? Rosanna thought as she struggled to stand, wincing at a sharp pain that ran up her right knee.

“You’re hurt.” Casey said with alarm. “Should I call the EMS?”

“No. I’m fine.” Rosanna said through clenched teeth. Right Wonder Woman! More lies!

“You’re also a liar. So it’s a damned good thing you’re attractive.” Rosanna raised an eyebrow but said nothing. 

Casey placed an arm around Rosanna’s waist and began to lead the now limping woman toward the corner. Rosanna did not protest; her knee was throbbing like hell and she simply needed to sit down. They walked awkwardly to a parked car.

“Lean here, Ross. I’m gonna get a cab.” Casey walked to the curb and began waving her hand as if she had just been crowned the new Miss America.

“You'll never get a cab like that in New York!” Rosanna called out to her.

“You think so? Well, since you’re in no shape to show me the New York way, we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we.” Two minutes later, a yellow taxi pulled up in front of her. Rosanna rolled her eyes in disbelief. 

Casey helped her into the cab and gave the driver an address.

“No. Wait. I’ve got to meet Ma—“ Rosanna began but was interrupted by Casey. “You’re going to my place. I’m gonna take a look at your knee and toss your pants into the washer. Don’t argue, Ross, or I’ll make the driver stop and you’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”

“God help me!” Rosanna threw her head back on the headrest in exasperation, but realized that she couldn’t think of a better plan at that moment. 

She suddenly remembered to ask, “Are you a doctor or a nurse, Casey?” 

“No, but I almost became a physical therapist.” Casey answered with all the assurance of a pre-med student.

“Great. I’m in good hands. I feel better already.” Without thinking, Rosanna rested her head on Casey’s shoulder for the remainder of the ride. She did not see the fleeting grin that lit up Casey’s beautiful visage or hear her soft affirmation, “You will, Ross.” 

Solace & Rosanna Ch. 03



“Bizarrey! Bizarrey!” Solace called as she entered her apartment. “Mommy’s home! Come here, sweetums!” That’s probably why she’s staying away, Solace thought. What self-respecting cat would want to be called ‘sweetums’? She dumped her cane and shoulder-bag at the door and began to search her one-bedroom apartment. She looked in all of Bizarrey’s known hiding places without success—under the bed (which was useless since she would not have been able to see her there anyway); on the window sills, under the table and on the bed. No luck. She returned to the living room, stopped in the middle of the room and began making a slow circle. As she threw up her arms in defeat, she happened to look up and see a lump of reddish brown fur and penetrating eyeballs staring down at her from the top of some very high bookshelves. “Wow! A new trick, Bizarrey? Now what would you have done if I hadn’t looked up? Well, I guess you would have come down for food, if nothing else. You nutty cat!” Solace smiled but suddenly flung herself into her favorite armchair and began crying uncontrollably. Bizarrey jumped down from her lofty perch and onto the arm of the chair, softly meowing and rubbing her soft furry body next to Solace’s arm. She scooped the cat into her arms and stroked the little head that she found so adorable. “Bizarrey, what’s happened? Why has Sanna changed? She had never seemed concerned about…about… Solace could not bring herself to say the dreaded words. Perhaps she had not been aware of the signs. They had known each other for five years and the issue of her visual impairment hadn’t been too much of a problem. Okay. So there had been a few minor accidents. But the consequences hadn’t been catastrophic; they were both still alive. Wasn’t that the important thing? Lately, Sanna had begun focusing a great deal of attention on what she perceived were Solace’s flaws. I think I handled this fairly well, she thought but did not voice. 

Bizarrey turned around a few times on Solace’s lap and plopped down, a signal that she was in for a prolonged stretch of petting. Solace began to stroke the length of the feline with one hand as she yanked up the end of her t-shirt to wipe her eyes, stopping short of blowing her nose. She might be distraught, but that would not be good. Bizarrey jumped at the sudden movement, but did not scamper away as she usually did. “You don’t think the fact that I don’t see is horrible, do you B?” Solace asked as she reached for Bizarrey’s head and poked her in the right eye. Bizarrey gave her a nip on her finger and turned around on her lap so that her head was facing in the opposite direction. “I’m sorry, girl.” Solace thought briefly about calling for Chinese take-out, but she found she had no energy. It was as if she had been completely drained. She felt hollow. The only activity she could do was think and thinking was pretty crappy right now because the only thoughts running through her mind were of Sanna. Her mind drifted back to the first time they met five years ago.

1998

Solace stood against a wall, sipping water from a sports bottle. She was eager for the rehearsal to get underway. She had never sung in an all women’s group and she was looking forward to it. She had come as close to the appointed time as possible. In fact, this was positively early for her. No matter that Katrina was going to start in a minute. She congratulated herself on her promptness and placed the bottled water into her overcrowded knapsack. She was absorbing her surroundings and marveling at the immensity of the apartment when her musings were interrupted. 

“Do you need any help, Solace?” Katrina asked Solace with a smile in her voice.

“Nah, I’m fine, Katrina. But thank you.” Solace assured her, not wanting to play her poor blind woman role so early in the game.

“Okay. Just let me know, though. I want you to feel comfortable here.” 

“Thank you.” Solace smiled an extended her cane in preparation of navigating the large room. 

“All right, ladies!” Katrina Belvers bellowed over the din of excited female voices. “If you can get the same volume into your singing as you do your speaking, we should achieve some fantastic crescendos.” Peels of laughter greeted this remark.

“Please find a seat wherever you can. I’ll have more chairs next week. I promise. They were supposed to deliver the rest today, but there was a problem, of course.” She sighed in exasperation.

Solace gingerly picked her way across the room of sixteen women. She was headed for what appeared to be an empty blue chair. As she approached the object, she opted not to use the mobility technique she had learned (where you put your hand out to find out if there’s an obstacle) turned and plopped down on a very shocked Rosanna Romero, who abruptly rose in surprise, toppling Solace to the carpeted floor. 

“I’m sorry.” They said in unison as a chorus of embarrassed chuckles rose and fell.

“Well, you might as well introduce yourselves since you seem to be getting intimate.” Came Katrina’s smooth voice as she made to go and help Solace to her feet, but backed away as she saw that Rosanna Romero had the situation in hand.

“I’m Solace Tynan. Did I break anything? I thought you were a chair.” Solace stated while trying to straighten out her peasant skirt and blouse. The women closest to them laughed.

“Rosanna Romero, and, no, you didn’t break anything.” She said calmly.

Solace noticed immediately the low, sonorous tones of her voice. It was very pleasant. She must be a second alto, she thought briefly. She looked up but as the light was relatively dim, she could not make out the features of the woman with the sultry voice standing before her. All she could discern was that her voice came from a slightly higher position, which meant she was a bit taller than her own five feet two inches. Rosanna handed Solace her cane, guided her to an empty seat next to her as if she had been guiding blind people all her life. Solace was rendered momentarily speechless.

Katrina began again “First, I want to welcome you to the first rehearsal of the Upper Manhattan Women’s Ensemble. I know the name may sound a little old school, but I’m open to suggestions. You can e-mail me with your ideas. Next, I’d like to let you know that Myron Owens, our Manager, for those of you who don’t know him, has already booked our first gig on September 29. I know that doesn’t give us much time, but I have ultimate faith in you all.” This last sentence she stated to sixteen women sitting there with their mouths open. “Okay, ladies, we haven’t begun to sing yet, so you can close your mouths.” Everyone laughed. “And now we’ll break into sections. First and second sopranos in the first two rows and first and second altos fan out where you can find seats.

“As usual, the sopranos get the seats. They’re such divas!” came the deep voice of a woman as she passed Solace, who had been guided to a seat by Katrina, probably hoping to avoid another accident.

“That’s right! That’s the way the Goddess meant it! All others bow down to the superior ones.” Proclaimed the woman sitting next to Solace.

“Ooh!” chorused the other sopranos in the section, except Solace, who was engrossed in removing her Braille music from her knapsack. As she laid it on her lap, the woman who had shouted the witty retort turned to her and said, “My name’s Ann.”

“Nice to meet you, Ann. I’m Solace.” She stuck out her hand to be shook.

“Great name.” Ann replied, giving Solace’s hand a brisk shaking.

“Sometimes.” Solace admitted.

“Is that all our music?” Ann asked in awe.

“Not all, just the pieces we’re studying tonight. It’s a helluva lot to learn.” Answered Solace.

“I’ll say.” Agreed Ann, opening her own folder.

The rehearsal commenced and all attention was riveted to the process of making beautiful music. The women had been chosen for their abilities and their potential for enhancing the group. Solace was pleased that her Braille music skills were up to the task of keeping pace with such a challenging choral group. She felt exhilarated and was crestfallen when the rehearsal came to an end. Katrina thanked them and the women scattered in all directions. Ann stood and placed her hand on Solace’s shoulder saying, “You have a beautiful voice, Solace. It’s going to be a pleasure singing with you.”

“Thank you, Ann. You, too. This is gonna be so cool!”

“It is.” Ann agreed. “Do you need help getting out?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay.” She assured her.

“All right. See you next week!” Ann called back as she left.

“Okay!” Solaced answered.

Solace reached under her chair and began searching for her knapsack, which she was not finding. I thought I put it right here. She got down on her hands and knees and started feeling to her left and right when she heard a familiar voice say, “Is this yours?”

Solace stood up quickly and took the proffered knapsack. “Thank you. Rosanna, was it? Asked Solace.

“Yes. You have a great memory for names.” Rosanna answered. She remained standing in front of Solace.

“I wish I could remember other things as well. It’s just a fluke. Did you enjoy the rehearsal?” Solace asked while attempting to put on her knapsack, the straps seemed to have shrunk. 

“Need some help?” Rosanna asked innocently.

“No. I’m just trying to get—“ Solace said through clenched teeth. “This damned thing seems to be—“ 

Although it was slightly amusing watching this woman struggling to get her knapsack on, Rosanna felt a twinge of guilt.

“Maybe you need to loosen the straps a bit. Here. I’ll do it.” She extricated the flailing Solace from the bag and yanked the straps out to an adult size, walked behind her and slipped it on her shoulders. “Is that better?” She asked.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Solace said gratefully, feeling slightly flushed. “I guess we better get out of here before Katrina throws us out.” She added.

“She won’t, but you’re right. Can I walk you out of here?” Rosanna asked tentatively, not really sure why she had.

Solace thought about it for a moment and decided to put the Super Blink act to bed for the night. “Sure.” She said, smiling up at the mostly unseen figure in front of her.

They went down in a well-lit elevator which finally allowed Solace to see the strong, café au lait features of the other woman. She had short, dark hair with fringed bangs that gave her face a youthful, sexy look. Sexy? And the blue chair turned out to be a blue tailored pant-suit covering what looked like a silk shirt. They exited the building and stopped under the awning. 

“Where do you live?” Rosanna asked.

“On one hundred ninth street and Fifth, near the park.” Answered Solace.

“I’ll walk you home.” Rosanna stated.

“I walk these mean streets alone all the time.” Solace snapped before she could stop herself.

“I’m sure you do. I’d just feel better if you’d allow me.” Rosanna answered before she could stop herself. 

“I just don’t want you to think I’m some poor, helpless blind chick who—“ She began and then realized the last part of Rosanna’s statement. Solace relaxed until she realized that she wasn’t quite sure which way was Madison Avenue.

“Er, Rosanna, could you tell me which way is Madison?” She whispered.

“Come on.” Rosanna took the arm without the cane and they began to walk west. 

“And, yes, I enjoyed the rehearsal…very much.” Answered Rosanna belatedly.

“So did I.” Solace agreed and smiled “I think it will be a fun, challenging experience.” Neither of the women knew how prophetic those words would turn out to be.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 04



Casey grinned evily. Casey grinned evily.

The cab pulled up in front of a ten-story red brick private building on a tree-lined street. There were three steps leading up to the entrance. Rosanna sat up and reached for her wallet, but Casey placed a restraining hand on her arm.

“I got it,” Casey said as she began counting out the fair. 

“My tab is growing. Now I’ll really owe you,” Rosanna growled.

“Yes, It is, and I love it!” Casey grinned evily.

She jumped out of the car, ran around to the other side, opened the door and put out her hand for Rosanna to take.

“I hate this,” Rosanna grumbled as she took the proffered hand.

“What?” asked Casey.

“Being helpless,” answered Rosanna.

“You’re not helpless. You’re just temporarily incapacitated.

“It’s the same bloody thing. Ouch!” Rosanna yelped as she exited the car. Casey slammed the door and the cabbie sped off.

“Come on, Ross. You need medical attention.” Casey put her arm around Rosanna’s waist and they made their way slowly up the stairs.

“What kind of accessible apartment house is this? There are no ramps for wheelchairs,” Rosanna complained. Oh my God, Solace has had an effect on me. I would never have thought twice about ramps.

“It’s an old building and we don’t have anyone who uses a wheelchair here.” Casey answered, wondering When on earth had Ross become concerned with accessibility issues? Casey thought she would definitely have to find out how Ross had spent the last ten years. 

As they were riding up in the elevator, the door opened on the floor below Casey’s and a tall be-spectacled man entered. He had a milk-chocolate complexion, curly hair and wore khaki pants with a baby blue shirt and loafers. 

“Hi Case,” he greeted jovially.

“Hi Leander. This is Rosanna Romero. Ross, this is Leander Collins. He's a dear friend.” 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Romero.” 

“Likewise, Leander.” Rosanna responded smiling awkwardly as she felt Casey’s arm tighten around her waste. What is she up to?

Leander noticed the gesture as well, and raised in inquisitive eyebrow, but said nothing. Rosanna caught his actions and turned to Casey, who chose that very moment to worm her hand under Rosanna’s blazer and lightly tickle her rib cage. Forgetting the pain in her knee, Rosanna jumped. Before she could protest, the door opened and Casey half pulled her out. She barely had a chance to wave a hasty goodbye to Leander.

“Ouch!” Rosanna screeched. “Casey, why did you—?” Casey interrupted her.

“I’ll explain later,” she said quickly, removing her arm from Rosanna’s waist and rifling through her shoulder-bag for her keys. Rosanna leaned on the wall for support. Casey opened the door to her apartment, took Rosanna’s hands and walking backward, pulled her in. She pushed her onto a comfortable couch and Rosanna placed her head back and sighed. The day just wasn’t going to her satisfaction. She closed her eyes to just get her bearings and felt soft fingers gently tugging at her jacket.

“Casey, what are you doing? Rosanna asked.

“I’m taking off your jacket. I can’t examine you with your clothes on and I certainly can’t wash your pants that way, silly.”

“Just let me sit here for a few minutes and I’ll be fine. I’ve got to make a phone call.” Rosanna attempted to sit up but Casey pushed her back down. Either Casey was really strong or Rosanna was too tired to fight.

“Really, Casey. I have to call—“ But Casey was easing off her jacket and seemingly in rapt concentration. She got Rosanna’s arms out of the sleeves and gave a soft whistle. Rosanna was in excellent shape. Her silk shirt looked tailor-made and molded itself to her firm arms and torso. Casey realized that her mouth was becoming dry and her heart was beginning to pound. She straightened up with the blazer in her hands and ran to her kitchenette.

“Ross, would you like something to drink?” 

“Just water, thanks.”

Rosanna thought about taking more Advil but she thought better of it, because she realized that she was beginning to feel a bit sleepy from the three she had previously swallowed. She rubbed her hands over her face to try to shake off the feeling. Thankfully, the pain in her knee was subsiding. She could manage this. She looked down and saw the smudges on her pants. She groaned in disgust. When she looked up, Casey was standing in front of her holding a tall glass of ice water.

“Thank you,” she said as she took the glass.

“No prob.” Casey answered and sat next to Rosanna with her own drink. They downed their beverages, Rosanna drinking hers in a single swig. 

“Wow! You really were thirsty, “ Casey exclaimed.

“I was parched. Thanks.” Rosanna said beginning to rise.

“Where are you going, Ross?” Casey flew up from the couch, spilling the remaining soda in her glass onto her skirt.

“Oh shit!” She cried. I’ve got to take this off before the stain sets in. She ran down the hall to her bedroom while Rosanna sat staring after her in surprise. What a day, she thought! I think Solace has put a hex on me! Don’t think of her now.

Casey returned wearing a satin dressing gown. Rosanna openly stared at her friend from head to toe. Were those her--? No, dope! This is Casey, the man magnet! Get a grip, Rosanna!

“Where are your clothes?” Rosanna asked, her voice cracking a bit.

“I took them off,” Casey replied calmly. 

“I can see that. Where are your other clothes?” 

Rosanna asked, making yet another attempt to stand. She tentatively bent her right knee, trying to assess the damage. Casey rushed to her side and guided her back onto the couch. Is it my imagination or is Casey trying to seduce me? That can’t be; she’s as straight as an arrow. But the next thing Rosanna felt was the zipper on her pants being lowered.

“Casey, what are you doing?” She gasped.

“I’m taking off your pants. My gosh, you do ask some obvious questions.” Casey answered as she continued her task.

“Remember I told you I was going to wash your pants? As talented as I am, I can’t do that with you in them. Now, lift up a bit.” 

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll have them cleaned.” Rosanna grabbed Casey’s wrist and tried to remove her hand from her fly. She tugged and Casey tugged.

“Rosanna! You’re being ridiculous! I’ll have them washed in no time!” Casey said through clenched teeth.

“That’s okay, Casey. I appreciate your offer, but I don’t want you to go through any inconvenience.” Rosanna said, still trying to remove the death grip Casey had on her pant zipper.

“It’s no bother. Really. I want to, Ross.” Casey gave a mighty yank and they both heard something pop.

“Oh, Ross, I’m so—“ Casey started but fell into helpless laughter.

“What the hell is so funny, Casey? What am I supposed to do now?” 

Rosanna stood up abruptly and her silk lined pants dropped to the floor. This sent Casey into hysterics. She clutched at Rosanna, who tried to pull away, but against her will, she felt a bubble of laughter rumble up from some betraying place and she broke into a wide grin. They laughed so hard 

they tumbled to the floor where they wound up in a tangled heap.

Rosanna was unsure how it happened, but at some point, Casey had maneuvered herself on top of her and was staring down at her with a definite look of intent in her eyes. The next thing Rosanna knew was that soft lips were being lowered to her own and auburn hair was forming a soft curtain around their faces. 

“Casey, what are you—?” 

“I’m kissing you, Ross” And with that she lowered her lips to Rosanna’s, her tongue seeking gentle entrance to Rosanna’s mouth. Rosanna’s mind went completely blank. She was all sensation. She had wanted this woman for so long and now Casey was here, giving herself to her. Rosanna had no thought of stopping her as she unfastened the silk ties of Casey’s robe and slipped her hands inside to feel the warm skin underneath. She ran her hands along the length of Casey’s body, marveling at the softness of her skin. Casey was whispering something in her ear.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Ross.” 

“Me, too, Casey,” Rosanna could barely utter the words through their heated kisses. 

She began making slow, deliberate circles around Casey’s breasts. Casey moaned softly and started unbuttoning Rosanna’s shirt. Rosanna did not protest as she circled her way to Casey’s very erect nipples, her own breaths becoming ragged as she finally touched the twin peaks she had lusted after during her high school years. She rolled Casey over so that she was on top. It was then that Rosanna realized hazily that her pants were in a puddle around her ankles and she still had her shoes on. She thought briefly of getting up and taking everything off, but that would come later. All she wanted to do now was kiss Casey—all over. And this she proceeded to do while Casey wrapped her arms around her, pulling Rosanna’s strong, firm body closer to her. She was in heaven. Leander was right! 

“Ross, let me take off the rest of your clothes.” Casey breathed into Rosanna’s ear, which sent chills up her spine and down to an area that was becoming extremely aroused.

Rosanna did not reply but simply lay back in helpless surrender as Casey began to slip off her loafers and slide her knee-his pants and underwear off. She then went to work on Rosanna’s shirt, kissing each new part as it was revealed. She then molded herself to Rosanna's athletic body. It was now Rosanna’s turn to moan. She could think of nothing but Casey’s kisses. She could think of nothing but the feel of Casey’s hands as they caressed her small breasts. She could think of nothing but Casey’s lips and tongue as they traced the line of her ear. She could think of nothing until…her cell phone rang. It was as if she had been doused with cold water. Funny, how she could remember everything quite clearly now. 



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 05



1998: Solace and Rosanna traversed the avenues and then made their way uptown. They walked arm in arm, and both smiled inwardly at how comfortable it felt walking with a near-perfect stranger. Solace considered herself to be a carefree person, but this was a bit odd even for her. Rosanna, being the levelheaded pragmatist knew she must be suffering from some form of temporary insanity because of her usual reserved and cautious nature. They kept up a stream of conversation. Actually, Solace found herself providing answers to Rosanna’s probing questions. One question would elicit ten answers. Solace did manage to learn that Rosanna was the Director of a learning center called Getting Started With, which specialized in training and materials of and for computer applications and networking. Although it was dark, Solace could hear the smile on Rosanna’s face and pride in her accomplishments. Her company obviously meant a great deal to her. Her pride was not unfounded. GSW (as Rosanna called it) had blossomed from one center in mid-Manhattan to the Bronx, Brooklyn and soon would be opening a facility in Queens. 

Solace told Rosanna about her stint as a voice teacher at the Music for Life school where she had been working with the extremely talented to the occasional tone-deaf student for the past three years. Solace also told her about her own quest for singing stardom.

“I sing in a café on the weekends. It’s a pretty cool gig. I get a small check plus dinner, and the tips are great. Maybe you'll come see me some day,“ she said proudly.

“What kind of songs do you enjoy singing?” Rosanna asked with undisguised interest.

“Oh, I’ll sing just about anything for an audition. But my absolute favorites are ballads and Broadway tunes. Do you like music?” Solace asked.

“I do.” Rosanna offered tentatively.

“And are you going to tell me what kind you like or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?” Solace asked brazenly.

Rosanna laughed.

“Well..” she started tentatively. I have a passion for classical music. My favorite composer is Mozart.” She waited for Solace to giggle or say something flippant, but her response was anything but.

“Really? I love Mozart! He’s relaxing yet interesting. I tell my students if they’d had radio back in his day, he might have been on an alternative station.

“I’ve never thought about that before. You’re probably right,” Rosanna said looking up noticing that they had reached 109th street already.

“We’re here”, she announced. 

Solace thought she detected a slight note of regret in Rosanna’s voice. Of course, she might have been hoping that was the case because she knew she was sorry they had gotten here so fast.

“Well, Ms. Romero, I thank you for walking me. How chivalrous of you.” 

Solace made a small curtsy and bowed her head slightly.

“You don’t have to thank me. I practically forced myself on you.” Rosanna responded, hoping Solace couldn’t see the blush that immediately stained her cheeks.

Impulsively, Solace asked if Rosanna would like to come up for some tea.

“Tea?” Rosanna responded as if she’d never heard of the beverage.

“You know, you boil water, let the tea leaves steep for a bit and—“ Rosanna smiled as she ran her fingers through her hair. She finally said.

“Okay, smarty. I’ll come up but not for tea. Do you have any diet soda?”

“Diet soda! Yuk! Don’t tell me you’re one of those.” Solace said in mock disdain.

“One of those whats?” Rosanna asked, crossing her arms.

“One of those diet gurus. Do you know how many chemicals diet soda has? It’s filled with carcinogens and God knows what else. It’s pure poison,” Solace finished with a flourish.

“Well, I like to live dangerously then,” Rosanna countered. “I can’t keep this body fit by filling it with sugar, you know.” 

Solace sighed. “Well, I guess I can find something, if I really search. Come on, Sanna.”

“Sanna?” Rosanna asked, surprised.

“I don’t know where that came from, but I think it fits. Is it all right if I call you that?” Solace asked anxiously.

Rosanna thought a minute and said, “Sure. I’ll get used to it. No one’s ever called me that one.” 

They entered Solace’s building and made their way to her one-bedroom apartment, which was located on the second floor. 

“I have a fear of elevators, so I chose my apartment with that in mind.”

Well, I guess she won’t be visiting me too much on the 20th floor, thought Rosanna. 

Solace extracted her keys from her bag. Opening the door she called out in theatrical tones, “Welcome to Chez Solace!” She stretched out her arms and in one smooth motion, tossed her cane to one side and her bag to another. She then proceeded to turn on every light in her living room. She had four tall Halogen lamps, which illuminated the area to such a degree that it reminded Rosanna of a ball field.

Rosanna shielded her eyes with one hand and held out her other hand as if she were trying to fend off an attacker.

“You’re blinding me!” She said and instantly regretted her choice of words, but Solace was quick with a snappy come-back.

“Excellent. Welcome to my world!” She rubbed her hands together as if portraying a fiend in a bad movie.

Rosanna put her hands down, reached into her briefcase took out her sunglasses and put them on. 

"Okay. That's better," she said with exaggerated relief.

Solace laughed and Rosanna joined her.

“Just sit anywhere!” Solace called out as she crossed the room and turned a corner to where Rosanna thought the kitchen might be located. It turned out that her assumption was correct because Solace was asking her if she would like some mango nectar. She said that sounded great and the next thing she knew Solace was returning with a tall glass of the orange-colored drink. 

Rosanna put down her briefcase and looked around for a place to sit. Solace seemed fond of soft, overstuffed cushion-like chairs. Rosanna did not see anything resembling a sofa. She took the offered glass and downed half the drink before Solace had even taken a few good sips of her own. 

“That’s really good. Thank you,” she said. 

“You’re welcome. Glad you liked it.” Solace said, finishing hers with a final gulp. Abruptly, she placed her empty glass on a nearby table.

“Do you wanna hear something, Sanna?” she asked with an air of eagerness.

“Sure.” Rosanna answered amiably and made her way to a blue cushion-chair.

Solace flew over to a mini-stereo system and opened a huge cabinet next to it. Rosanna’s mouth dropped open in awe at the compact disc collection inside. There must have been hundreds, if not thousands of jewel cases. She got up and went to stand behind Solace, who jumped a bit as she felt the unexpected movement behind her. Okay. Why am I so jumpy? And maybe I should turn on the fan because it ‘s really warm in here.

“Wow! How many do you have?” Rosanna asked in amazement.

“About a thousand or so. I’ve stopped counting them all. It’s a small collection by comparison,” Solace answered with a hint of pride in her voice.

“By comparison to whom? I’m still a cassette woman. But I’m gradually converting,” Rosanna said, running her fingers down the stacks. Solace stared transfixed. Rosanna had lovely hands.

“Do you play an instrument? She asked softly.

“I play a little piano,” Rosanna answered, stepping back. Solace felt slightly dismayed at this movement and the slight chill it produced.

“You’ll have to play for me sometime, even tonight, if you like,” Solace said hopefully.

“I haven’t practiced in awhile. I’m really rusty,” Rosanna said shyly.

“So you’ll practice and you’ll play and I’ll sing,” Solace pronounced, suddenly remembering why she had dashed over to the stereo in the first place. She picked up a CD, placed it in the player and pressed play. The opening chords of “Not While I’m Around” from Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd began and then Solace could be heard. Her voice was soft and mellow, but the contrast could be heard when she sang the transition. Her voice was pure and clear without unnecessary embellishment. Rosanna dropped into a chair to listen. She was stunned. She had not been able to pick out Solace's voice among the other sopranos because Solace had blended so well. When the piece ended, she sat silent for what seemed hours just staring at Solace. 

“What’s the matter?” Solace asked, beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable at Rosanna’s intense appraisal.

“You’re amazing! That was so beautiful” Rosanna finally said. 

“Thank you.” Solace said, feeling another blush creep up her face. She seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight. She removed the CD from the player and returned it to its case.

“Can I buy a copy of that somewhere?” Rosanna asked.

“No, but I’ll make a copy for you.” Solace answered with pleasure. 

“You have a cd burner?” Rosanna asked surprised.

“Yes, it was expensive, but I thought it was a cheaper way to send out high-quality demos of my work.” Solace smiled.

“That’s clever. Thank you—in advance,” Rosanna said simply.

“I’ll bring it next week to the rehearsal. Oh. Are you going to be there?” She asked anxiously.

“We would be nuts to miss any of these rehearsals,” Rosanna answered with a smirk. 

“You’re right. What am I saying?” Solace agreed.

“Well, I better go. I have an early A.M. meeting with a new instructor.” Rosanna rose and walked toward Solace.

Solace stuck out her hand and Rosanna took it between her own. She told Solace that it had been great meeting her and that she looked forward to seeing her next week. Solace responded in kind and they made their way to the door. Solace opened it and Rosanna stepped out. She turned back to look at Solace.

“Good night, Sol,” Rosanna said softly.

“Sol? I like that. No one has ever called me that before,” Solace answered with a shy smile.

“It suits you. You remind me of the sun, bright and cheerful,” Rosanna replied and thought, well, chalk one up for the mushy team. She started walking backwards.

“Be careful, Sanna or you’ll fall,” Solace said, concern evident in her tone.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’ve got eyes in back of my head.” That said, she promptly missed the last two steps and fell flat on her butt. 

“Are you all right?” Solace asked as she rushed down the stairs to help Rosanna.

Rosanna got to her feet slowly, grimaced and then smiled.

“Guess the eyes in the back of my head need a checkup!” In spite of her concern for Rosanna, Solace chuckled at her new friend’s quick wit. For she was certain they would become friends. 

Rosanna turned and limped out of the building; her knee was killing her but she didn’t want Solace to see how much pain she was in. Although it would sound cruel if voiced, she was glad Solace could not see well. She did have the presence of mind to yell back. “I’ll call you, Sol!” 

“Okay. Great! Please be careful, Sanna” Solace called down.

Rosanna hopped in a taxi. She thought back with cautious pleasure on the evening’s events. She suddenly sat up in the seat. How was she going to call the woman when she didn’t even have her phone number. She ran her fingers through her hair in dismay. At that very moment, Solace sat bolt upright in her favorite chair.

“How’s she gonna call me? She doesn’t have my phone number!” She flung herself back in the chair and sighed. It’ll all work out…somehow. It better!



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 06



2003: Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik played relentlessly as Rosanna squirmed out from under Casey and began searching frantically for her cell phone. 

“Dammit! Where the hell is my briefcase, Casey?” She yelled as she ran from corner to corner.

“Calm down, Ross! It’s only the phone,” Casey said languidly, enjoying the spectacle of a very sexy, very naked Ross run around her living room. She did not budge from her spot on the carpeted floor.

“No, it’s not just the phone. It’s Matilda!” Rosanna shot back.

“Matilda? Who has an old-fashioned name like that these days?” Casey asked sarcastically.

“Matilda does, that’s who,” Rosanna said through labored breaths. At last, she located the dreaded phone.

Casey listened to Rosanna’s end of the conversation intently.

“Hi Mattie. Yes, I know we had plans. Listen, I had an accident. No! Calm down. I’m fine. Really. No, I’m not in the emergency room. It wasn’t that bad. I met a friend from high school. No, she isn’t an old flame. Why would you say that?” 

At that moment, Casey leapt to her feet, crossed over to Rosanna and wrapped her arms around her from behind, pressing herself to her suggestively. She began softly stroking Rosanna’s abdomen and then ran her fingers up and down the length of her body. 

“Stop that!” Rosanna hissed. “No, Mattie, I wasn’t talking to you. I was…trying to fix my pants and they’re not cooperating. The zipper broke and they won’t stay—“ She abruptly broke off her impromptu explanation as Casey’s tongue found its way to a very sensitive area on her neck and she moaned involuntarily. 

“No, I mean, yes, Mattie. I hurt my knee. That’s why I moaned. Where am I? I’m—“ Rosanna became so flustered that she employed the juvenile trick of making static noises, pretending the connection was faulty. She pressed the End key. Boy, she was in deep shit now! She gently extricated herself from Casey’s probing hands and tongue and went on a search for her clothes. Casey stood there, pouting. Rosanna was completely oblivious to her plight.

“Ross, you can’t just leave me like this,” Casey whined.

“Casey, I am in such deep crap right now I can’t even think about anything else. I have really screwed up and now I’ve got to try to fix this. I am so sorry I led you on.” Rosanna put her clothes on in record time. She held the sides of her pants together and looked up pleadingly.

“Do you have a safety pin, Casey?” 

“If I wanted to be really cruel, I’d say no, but I can’t do that to you, Ross.” Casey sighed and left the room. She returned with several safety pins. She helped Rosanna fasten them down the front of her pants. She made one last attempt at seduction, but Rosanna kissed her lightly on the lips and moved her out of the way of her goal—the front door.

“Thanks, Casey,” Rosanna called back as she flew out into the hallway.

“You still owe me, Ross!” Casey shouted as Rosanna entered the elevator that had just arrived.

“I know. I know.” Rosanna called as the door closed.

“We meet again. Rosanna, was it?” Rosanna looked up to see Leander Collins standing there. He was holding a laptop computer under his arm. She always noticed anything having to do with her line of work.

“Yes,” Rosanna said curtly.

Sensing that the woman was not in the mood to talk, Leander did not proceed with the conversation. He would have to ask Casey what had transpired with her sexy, Latin friend. He was sure that she would be dying to spill those beans. Had they or hadn’t they was uppermost in his mind. Perhaps he could use the episode somehow in his new book. 

They reached the main floor and Rosanna dashed out of the building and hailed a taxi back uptown. She lived in a one-bedroom luxury apartment in a new building on York Avenue. She paid the driver, scrambled out of the car, flew into the building, and sprinted to the bank of elevators that went from floors fifteen to twenty-five. She did this with as much grace as she could manage. When the elevator finally arrived, she stepped quickly inside neither looking left nor right. She barely noticed the other passengers who boarded with her. Rosanna was perspiring profusely and she could feel it trickling down her back, causing her silk shirt to stick to her, which was extremely uncomfortable. Her cell phone rang again, but she did not press the talk button because she certainly was not about to talk in a crowded elevator. She simply looked at the display, saw that it was Mattie, dropped the hand holding the phone to her side and held it loosely in her trembling hand. She had to collect her thoughts and her story before she spoke to Mattie. When the elevator stopped on her floor, she tried very hard to walk out with a shred of nonchalance. 

“Miss, you dropped your cell phone,” A voice called. 

Rosanna spun around, and her jacket flew open, exposing a row of safety pins holding her pants together. She was in such deep thought she didn’t even think to try to close her jacket.

“Thank you,” Rosanna said as she took the offending instrument from an outstretched palm.

Two senior ladies looked at one another.

“Maybe she’s not doing so well. She can’t even afford to get her pants fixed properly,” said one.

“Such a shame. That’s a nice suit, too,” said the other. 

Rosanna heard this little exchange as she raced to her door. God, they’re going to think I can’t afford to live here anymore. It’ll be all over the building by tomorrow! Conyo! 

Rosanna opened the door to her apartment and placed her briefcase in its place in a nearby closet. She would retrieve any necessary articles later. She sat down in her black leather recliner, not even stopping to remove her jacket. She knew Mattie would continue to call until she got her. What she was going to tell her she could not think. The truth was not in the realm of possibility, but maybe she could tell her a version of the truth. What version that would be she did not know, but she stripped off her clothes and jumped into a cool shower to try to clear her head and refresh her body. She was uncertain of how long she had been sitting in her comfortable chair, but she was startled to hear the doorbell ring. She looked at her watch and saw that about an hour had passed. What had she been doing—daydreaming? 

“Just a minute!” Rosanna called out as she ran into her bedroom to change out of her bathrobe and into something casual. She rummaged in her drawer for a pair of white walking shorts and a red t-shirt with her company logo on it and went to answer the door. 

Mattie stood there, looking elegant in a tailored skirt suit of navy with a white blouse. She looked fresh and crisp and royally pissed. Rosanna swallowed hard. She leaned over to kiss Mattie on the cheek but the woman swept by her so quickly that her lips met nothing but air. Oy vay!

Mattie sat down, placed her Coach handbag next to her, folded her arms and waited. Her blonde hair was loose and fell just passed her shoulders. Her makeup was flawlessly applied and her fingernails freshly manicured. Matilda Harper rarely dressed down. She didn’t even like to wear sneakers. She wore only expensive walking shoes.

Rosanna sat next to her on the nearby sofa. Mattie turned to face her.

“Mattie, I’m so sorry I missed our dinner engagement. I really did hurt my knee.” Rosanna said lamely.

Mattie looked down at Rosanna’s knee. She spotted a large bruise and gasped.

“Rosanna! Oh my gosh. Does that hurt?” She reached out to gently prod Rosanna’s knee. Rosanna winced at the still tender area and inwardly thanked the Goddess that she had something to show.

“Have you cleaned the area with antiseptic? How did it happen? Oh, Rosanna, I’m so sorry. I thought--” Matilda said in a rush of words as she stood, removed her blazer and folded it neatly over the back of the chair. She went back to her examination of Rosanna’s knee. 

“I tripped on the sidewalk…stupid accident. I wasn’t paying attention. You know, my mind is always a million miles away.” Rosanna thought she better quit while she was ahead. She knew she’d have to brace herself for the next round of questions.

“Do you have any Bactene?” Matilda asked.

“In the bathroom cabinet, but—“ Rosanna tried to protest but Matilda was out of her seat, headed for the bathroom. She returned with the bottle and some cotton-balls. She knelt in front of Rosanna and began swabbing the area. Rosanna gazed affectionately at Matilda as she performed her task. She put her hand on Matilda's head and began stroking her hair.

“You are so sweet, Mattie,” she said, meaning it.

Matilda looked up. Her hazel eyes pinning Rosanna’s green ones with their intensity.

“Not so fast, Romeo. You’re not off the hook yet. I want to know where you were and why you didn’t call me sooner. I just took a chance that you were here. I started to get a little frantic, Rosanna.” She finished, capped the bottle and rose to return it to the medicine cabinet. 

Well, now’s the time, Rosanna. You better think of something quick, girl.

“Mattie, I was in so much pain, I sat on a park bench just to relax and before I knew it, you were calling me and my cell phone wasn’t working, and I just decided to come home. I couldn’t think what else to do at that point, since I’d already missed our date.” Rosanna mentally crossed her fingers and prayed that Matilda would believe this hastily contrived excuse. She didn’t think it sounded too bad. Of course, she wasn’t on the receiving end either.

Matilda sat there for a few minutes and said.

“If I were the jealous type, I would have assumed that you were with another woman. Didn’t you say that you met an old high school friend?” she asked, a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice.

Rosanna tried to remain as cool as possible as she answered, “You’re right. I did, but we just talked a bit and she left. She was also going to have something to eat.” Rosanna almost choked on her words when she realized what she had just said. To cover herself, she grabbed Matilda into an embrace and whispered, “You don’t have to ever worry about that, Mattie. You’re the only one for me now.” She was really on a lying roll now! God help her!

Mattie put her arms around Rosanna and squeezed…hard. “I better be, Rosanna.” Although she said it with a smile, Rosanna knew that they were words she should take very seriously.

“Are you hungry?” Rosanna asked, realizing she was famished, having temporarily lied her way out of a near catastrophic situation. 

“Of course, I am. Someone stood me up and I haven’t had anything since breakfast,” Mattie answered, her good humor returning.

“Let’s order Chinese,” Rosanna offered. 

“I had my taste buds set on CPK. Somehow Chinese just doesn’t sound as appealing,” Mattie said, wrinkling her nose.

“Okay. What would you like, Mattie?” asked Rosanna, her fingers poised over the telephone.

“How about La Contessa’s?” Matilda said.

“They don’t deliver,” Rosanna said puzzled.

“I know. Get dressed. We’ll just go,” Mattie said, lips pouting, giving Rosanna that look that she could not resist. What was it about these women and their pouting lips? She put down the phone. How could she say no to Matilda after what she had done? She didn’t really feel like going out. She felt utterly drained after the day’s events. Sighing heavily, she rose and headed for her bedroom. At least La Contessa’s is only across the street. She returned wearing black jeans, black boots and a form-fitting V-neck black sweater. 

“Very sexy.” Matilda commented as she wrapped her arms possessively around Rosanna’s waist and planted a quick kiss on her lips. Before Rosanna could deepen the kiss, Matilda released her and went to pick up her jacket and handbag. 

“Later Lover. Besides, you need to rest some. Any injury can be quite draining,” Matilda stated.

“Tell me about it,” Rosanna muttered as she retrieved her keys and wallet from her briefcase and put them into a smaller shoulder-bag.

As they waited for the elevator, Matilda put her hand in Rosanna’s back pocket and squeezed her butt. 

“Matilda!” Rosanna protested.

Matilda said nothing as she strode into the waiting elevator. .

No! Please! This can’t be happening. The two little ladies from earlier were standing in the car. What did they do, ride up and down all day waiting for something juicy to happen? Rosanna tried to will them not to ask her any questions. However, the way things were going today, she had absolutely no chance of that happening. so, of course, one began.

“Are you going to take your pants to the cleaners, Dear? You know they can probably fix the zipper,” said one.

“And a very good one just opened up near La Contessa’s. They’re very reasonably priced, too, which is amazing for this neighborhood,” chimed the other. Neither of the women noticed that Rosanna was turning every shade and she had started to finger her bangs nervously. Matilda noticed and she watched Rosanna with mounting suspicion.

“Something you forgot to tell me, Rosanna?” she asked sweetly.

“I’ll tell you over dinner,” Rosanna responded, her accent evident in her distress.

“Yes, you will,” Matilda said with a knowing smile.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 07



1998: Solace moaned so loudly that she woke herself up. Her heart was beating as if she had just completed the New York City Marathon. To her delight, she was still experiencing remnants of the intense orgasm that had been induced by the passionate love-making she and Rosanna Romero had shared. She basked in the euphoric feeling of the contractions of her vaginal muscles. How strange, she thought hazily. I just met her. How could I be dreaming about her already? When she came back to her senses, she sat up and ran her fingers through her tangled auburn hair, which cascaded to the middle of her back. I haven’t had a dream like that in ages. A beatific smile formed on her heart-shaped lips. She closed her eyes and tried to recall the details of the dream sequence, but they were quickly fading like a fine mist. Why is it that nightmares stay with you all day and sexy dreams vanish in two seconds?  

Solace pressed the button on her talking watch, which announced that it was six thirty. Oh, Solace, you are nuts! What are you doing up at this hour on a Saturday! 

When Solace felt she could stand on firm legs, she rolled out of bed and walked lazily to the kitchen to put on the kettle to make a cup of tea. She then glided to the bathroom to attend to her morning ablutions. She looked in the mirror and saw that she hadn’t changed, but she did feel different. She left the bathroom and returned to her bedroom to find something to wear. She settled on a long blue jumper covering a white t-shirt. 

I’ve got to call Jessie. She pressed her watch again; an hour had gone by. She should be awake. She plopped down in a cushion by the phone and dialed her best friend’s number. The phone rang several times and was answered.

“Solace, this better be good or I’ll shoot your ovaries off!” answered Jessie groggily.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jessie. I thought you’d be awake.” Solace stammered in apology.

“Gotcha! I am awake. I’ve been up since five. I had an inspiration and I’m trying to work it out musically. 

Jessie Davis was a pianist and composer who had a successful career transcribing works for various artists and their instruments. Her dream, however, was to compose the score for a musical, and she had often tapped Solace to sing the female leads. Jessie often complained that the music industry was too interested in pigeon-holing an African-American artist and she was out to prove them wrong.

“Cool. How’s it going?” asked Solace.

“Well, it’s going okay, but I’m stuck at this one part where the—“ Jessie didn’t have a chance to finish because Solace interrupted her.

“Jessie, I have got to tell you about this woman.” 

“Not another one! Solace, you have more crushes than the sea has fish!“ Jessie said in mock exasperation. “But who is she and why is this one so special?” Jessie moved to a comfortable chair because she knew Solace might ramble on.

“She’s not a crush. She’s just…groovy!” she said with a distant tone in her voice.

“Groovy! Oh, Lord. You are the only person in Manhattan who says groovy, Solace.” Jessie retorted. 

“I don’t care,” answered Solace.

“Well, how long have you known Ms. Groovy?”

“One night,” answered Solace. “And I dreamed about making love to her.” 

“What?” Jessie sputtered and sat up. “Man, she really did make an impression on you. Could you see what she looked like at all?” she asked, her interest peaked.

“Not at first, but when we went down in the elevator together I got a fairly good look and, oh, what a looker. She’s Latin with short, dark wavy hair. I couldn’t’ see what color her eyes were. Do you think she’ll think I’m coming on to her if I ask her?” Solace asked seriously.

“Well, you might wait awhile. Are you going to see her again?” Jessie asked.

“I’m gonna see her next week at the ensemble rehearsal,” she replied and grinned.

“Oh. How did you like the group, Lace?” Jessie inquired.

“It was way cool, Jess. I can’t wait for next week’s rehearsal.” 

“Gee, I wonder why,” Jessie said sarcastically. 

“Well, I can’t say that hadn’t crossed my mind.” Solace felt her face grow warm with excitement at just the mere thought. “Do you think I should do anything special?” she asked.

“Like what--beat her over the head with your cane and drag her to your apartment?” Jessie snickered at her joke.

“Well, actually, she was here last night,” Solace whispered.

“My God, girl. You really do work fast! What did you do, pull out the old blind thing again?” Jessie rolled her eyes.

“Well, actually, she offered to walk me home. I wanted to be Miss Independence. Really!” Solace said in her most righteous tone.

“Lace, please! Don’t even try to lie. I know you and your act.” Both women laughed at this for it was a long-standing routine with them. “Well, you’ve got two options from what I can tell,” Jessie began. “You can either call her or wait for her to call you.”

“That’s the problem!” Solace rushed in. “She said she’d call me, but she doesn’t have my phone number. I wanted to ask you whether you think I should try to get it or not.” 

“Now, Lace. You know, you are going to hunt down that woman’s phone number the way a cat hunts down mice,” Jessie said with finality.

“You’re right, Jess. I’m going to call Katrina and get it. I don’t think I can wait until she calls me. What if she doesn’t?” Solace asked in her most annoying whining tone.

“She might. You could give her the benefit of the doubt, you know. Haven’t you ever heard of playing hard to get?” Jessie said.

“I have and it doesn’t always work, so I’m going to grab the cow by the udders,” announced Solace.

“Oh, no! You didn’t say that!” 

“Yes, I did. Now let me get off the phone so I can get to work.” Solace said impatiently.

“Lace, it’s not even nine yet. Give the woman a chance to wake up, get up and freshen up.” 

“You’re right. I will. Bye, Jessie. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Oh, lucky me!” Jessie said, but finished with, “Good luck, Lace. I hope she does right by you.”

“Thank you, Jessie.” With those words, Solace hung up.

Jessie sat there, staring at the phone for a few seconds and then placed it on the piano because she knew she’d be receiving regular updates from Solace.

Solace put on a cassette of vocal exercises, which she commenced in doing with great enthusiasm. She had to do something to keep her mind and body occupied until a decent hour came when she could call Katrina. Before she knew it, her table-top clock was announcing eleven o’clock. She unceremoniously dumped her ensemble music on the floor, which fanned out in all directions, picked up the phone and dialed Katrina’s. She got an answering machine. 

“Hi, Katrina. This is, uhm, Solace…Solace Tynan? I’m calling to uhm ask a favor. I know it’s kind of uhm early on for this kind of thing, but I was wondering if you could give Rosanna Romero my phone number?” She rattled it off. “Thank you, Katrina. Really. Thank you very much. I’m sorry for the rambling. I’ll see you on Friday. Thank you very much. Remember. It’s Solace Tynan.” She almost spelled her name, but decided that would be overkill. She started pacing around her living room, talking to herself. My God! The woman is going to think I’m an absolute fool! What was I thinking? Jessie was right! I should have waited! Solace, get a grip! You’re usually loose as a…a goose. A goose! That’s exactly what you sounded like just now! Well, what’s done is done.

Rosanna’s fingers were damp with perspiration as she dialed Katrina’s number. “Hello, Katrina? This is, ah, Rosanna Romero. I was wondering if you could give Solace Tynan my number. It’s ah…” Her mind went blank for a few seconds. “Oh, it’s 555-1217. Thank you.” She hung up the phone as if it were a burning torch ready to singe her fingers. Madre de Dios! Why did I do that? Well, you did that maybe because you told the woman you would call her and you didn’t take her number. You genius! Rosanna did not want to stop to examine her feelings as to why she wanted to see Solace again. If she had been honest, though, she would have admitted that the fact that Solace was blind intrigued her and she wanted to know more about how she functioned. She did not think Solace would respond to this fact too well. The other reason was the warmth. Solace emitted a warmth that drew Rosanna to her like a moth to a flame. Who would be burning whom remained to be seen. And certainly not last on Rosanna’s list for wanting to see Solace again was her drop-dead gorgeousness. The woman was sensuality personified. She was the kind of woman who made Rosanna’s mouth water, her fingers tremble and heart beat out of control. Yes. At least she felt an attraction. But what about Solace? Rosanna would have to force herself to take this one slowly.

“Hello, Solace?” Katrina’s voice came over the telephone line.

“Who-- Katrina?” Solace had fallen asleep and had been awakened by the insistent ringing of the phone and was still a bit sluggish.

“Yes. It’s Katrina. Listen, I've got Rosanna Romero on the other line. I thought you two could exchange info in person.  How’s that?”

“Uh, fine.” Solace cleared her throat. The next sound she heard were the sultry tones of Rosanna.

“Sol?” Rosanna started. Let me have your phone number and I’ll call you back.”

Solace recited her number slowly and made Rosanna repeat it back to her. 

“Thank you, Katrina,” Rosanna said.

“Yes, thank you,” Solace added.

“No problem. Think of me as the facilitator. I have to keep the women in my ensemble happy” That said, Katrina hung up the phone. Solace sat patiently waiting for the call. Upon hearing the first ring, she snatched it up.

“Hi,” Rosanna said.

“Hi,” Solace replied.

“Do you—“ Rosanna did not know whether it was appropriate to ask a blind person if they wanted to see a movie or watch television. She didn’t want to offend Solace. But she had seen a TV in her apartment. “Are you busy? Would you like to have lunch?” Rosanna’s voice sounded rushed to her, but she couldn’t seem to slow it down to her normal suave timbre. 

Thinking of what Jessie had told her, Solace hesitated for a moment and then said, “Sure. Why don’t we do Sunday brunch?”

“Oh. Okay. That sounds good.” Rosanna said. She hoped Solace couldn’t hear the disappointment in her voice. 

They made plans to meet at a trendy new café.

“Solace, should I pick you up?” Rosanna asked.

“No, I’m too heavy.” Solace replied before she could keep the awful joke from flying out of her mouth. Rosanna gave a small chuckle.

“I sincerely hope that your puns get better as the day goes by,” Rosanna said with a smile in her voice.

“Unfortunately, they don’t. Jessie calls me Princess Pun-Bad,” Solace said with a grimace.

“Who’s Jessie?” Rosanna tried to ask nonchalantly, but she felt a slight prickle of jealousy trying to worm its way in.

“My best friend,” Solace answered.

Deciding to let it go for now, Rosanna repeated her last question with a bit more emphasis. “Should I pick you up, Sol?”

“No. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you at noon on Sunday.” 

“You’re sure.” Rosanna persisted.

“Sanna,” Solace’s voice took on a serious tone.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll learn. But I’m still taking you home.”

“Now that would be fine,” Solace said.

“Bye, Sol”

“Bye Sanna.” 

They hung up the phone and both women headed to their closets to choose their outfits for the next day, both wanting to make a good impression on the other.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 08



2003: "I had her in my arms, Lee...in my arms and then she was gone!" Casey whaled with her head in her hands. 

"You must be losing your touch," Leander offered, knowing this would get a response from Casey.

As he thought, she looked up, her eyes blazing.

"Not on your life! It was that damned cell phone call. It spoiled the whole moment." Casey sat up, her fingers gripping her knees. "I'm going to have her, Lee. She can't just walk out of my life now."

"You walked out of hers." Leander reminded her. 

"That was different. I was young and didn't really have any direction in my life. I needed to figure out what I wanted—and needed," Casey said with emphasis on the last word.

"Well, you didn't seem to need Rosanna Romero at the time and she's probably moved on," Leander said soberly.

"Leander, whose side are you on here?" Casey asked with growing annoyance.

"I am on your side, but that doesn't mean I can't point out the truths that I see," he replied with a gentle smile and a pat on her knee. Casey swatted his hand away.

"Well, I don't want to hear truth. I want to hear Ross whispering in my ear how much she wants me and then—" She broke off the statement because it only caused her frustration level to rise.

"Why didn't you let her know you liked her in high school?" Leander asked innocently.

"I don't know. Maybe I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. We were so close. I told Rosanna everything back then—about the guys anyway. People don't always understand those of us who are attracted to both sexes. They want you to choose." 

"I think if anyone would have understood it would have been your best friend, don't you think?" replied Leander, removing his glasses to wipe them with a handkerchief.

"I couldn't take that chance. I didn't want to lose her," she murmured as she ran both hands through her hair away from her face. "I've got to take a shower. She was torn about this, though, because she wanted to freshen up, but she hated to erase the traces of Ross's intoxicating cologne. 

From what Casey had told Leander, it had sounded like they had gone quite far in the foreplay department. Very interesting. Casey was positively vibrating with sexual tension. 

Casey suddenly looked up and said, "Lee, you've got to help me get Ross back."

"And how do you suppose we do that, Ms. Deans...kidnap her? Leander smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "And what if she doesn't want to be gotten?"

"We could not have gone as far as she did if she didn't want me. Ross is a woman of honor." Casey rose with finality. She called back as she strode to her bedroom, "You can let yourself out, Lee. I'll get back to you on the plan—as soon as I think of one." 

"I'm sure you will and that's what I'm afraid of," Leander said as he stood, stretched and headed for the door. I wonder if the lovely Ms. Romero knows what she's in for, he thought as he closed the door behind him and headed for the stairwell. He was in a fever to write everything down.

As the cool spray washed over Casey's body, her mind drifted back to her previous activities with Ross. She could not get her out of her mind—her caresses, kisses. All blended to send her into a frenzy of arousal. How would she sleep tonight? She wouldn't until she found release. Her little buddy would be a poor substitute, but it would have to do. Once she had satisfied the needs of her body, she could concentrate on her plan.

Rosanna and Matilda walked in silence to La Contessa's. Rosanna's mind was working overtime trying to find the right words. There are no right words! Her mouth and throat were as dry as sandpaper and she was uncertain that she would be able to articulate anything, much less a coherent excuse. Matilda, in contrast, was smiling to herself as if the mysteries of the world had been whispered in her ear and only she could choose to whom she would reveal them. She held on to Rosanna's arm and squeezed gently. Matilda broke the silence as they entered the cool, dark restaurant where they had dined many times.

"Rosanna, I know you'll be honest with me because we have an honest relationship. No matter what's happened, I'm sure we can sort it all out and go on from here," Matilda declared as they were seated in a small booth.

"Right," Rosanna replied. She said nothing more. Sure. She says that now and then when I tell her I almost made love to another woman, she'll freak out and it'll be a whole different story. I know women. I am a woman! She glanced at her menu. The brief respite, which had renewed her appetite, was gone and she found that nothing on the extensive menu appealed to her. She gulped down her water and signaled the server for another glass.

"You certainly are thirsty, Rosanna," Matilda said, eyeing her menu with what appeared to be great interest.

"I'm always thirsty. You know me." Rosanna replied softly and made an attempt at a half-hearted smile. 

"And hungry?" Matilda asked with mock innocence.

"That, too. I think my appetite has flown the coop, though. But how was your day, Mattie?" Rosanna asked, hoping to divert Matilda's attention.

"I thought you were starving," Mattie said.

"I don't know what happened. Maybe I'm coming down with something." Rosanna said lamely.

"Perhaps it has something to do with your pants." Matilda offered pointedly. She reached her hand across the table and placed it atop Rosanna's. 

"Your hands are freezing! What's the matter? Maybe you are coming down with a bug, Rosanna. You should see Dr. Edwards tomorrow," she announced.

"No, I...really, Mattie. I don't think it's that serious. I'll get some over-the-counter stuff." 

"You have that meeting for your new staff on Monday. You want to be at your best, Rosanna," Matilda continued, brushing a lock of Rosanna's hair out of her eyes.

Rosanna thought that perhaps Matilda might be right about the sick thing because right now she felt alternately hot, cold and her stomach was tied up in so many knots, Houdini couldn't have escaped! 

The server appeared and Mattie gave her order. She also took the liberty of ordering a bowl of soup and small salad for Rosanna, who raised an eyebrow, but did not protest.

"Soup is good for you right now. You really don't look well, Rosanna. Your color is not good at all," Matilda fussed.

"Look, Mattie. I have to tell you something," Rosanna began.

"You know, Rosanna, I don't know if I'm quite ready to hear this yet." Matilda began gazing around the restaurant as if seeing it for the first time.

"I'm not sure I want to tell you, but as you say, we have always had an honest relationship and we can't have a life together unless..." Rosanna sighed heavily and began to recount the day's events, starting with her meeting with Solace and ending with the scenario on Casey's carpet. 

As Rosanna spoke, Matilda sat listening intently, never interrupting. When Rosanna ended her narrative, she calmly rose, picked up a full glass of water and tossed it in Rosanna's face, drenching her.

"I thought you said we'd be able to sort it out!" Rosanna sputtered.

"Go and sort it out with Solace or Casey or whomever you want in your bed now, Rosanna Romero! I can't be near you!" With those words, Mattie stormed out of the restaurant. 

Rosanna used a napkin to dry herself as best she could. Their server, Frank, whom they had known for a year, came up to her and asked in soft tones,

"Do you still want your soup, Rosanna?" 

"No thanks, Frank," she answered and got up to leave the restaurant, her damp sweater and pants clinging to her suggestively. She garnered a few brief stares, but was completely oblivious to anything but the horrible situation she had gotten herself into. She certainly was in the mood for alienating everyone. She would go home, throw a TV dinner in the microwave and watch a movie. It didn't matter what movie—just something to calm her nerves, a comedy perhaps. Goddess knew she needed a damned good laugh right now.

She was in such deep thought that she did not hear Matilda calling to her as she entered her building.

"Rosanna!" Matilda called again. Rosanna turned to face her. She did not speak. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead. She simply stared at Matilda in helpless defeat. 

"I'm sorry, Rosanna," Matilda said, coming to stand in front of Rosanna.

"I'm sorry, too, Mattie." 

"I was shocked that you—" Matilda broke off.

"Do you want to talk, Mattie?"

"I don't know if I'm ready for that, but I did want to apologize for making a scene." 

"Please come upstairs, Mattie. I want to try to explain." Rosanna placed a hand on Matilda's arm. 

"Excuse me, ladies," a woman's voice said. 

"Come on," said Rosanna. "I've got to get out of these clothes or I really will catch something." She led them to the elevators. They rode up in silence and entered the quiet, now dark apartment. Rosanna placed her keys on their peg and went straight to her bedroom to change. Matilda followed her. Rosanna stripped off her sweater and pants. As she searched in her drawer, she felt a sharp sting on her butt.

"Hey! Mattie, why did you—" She did not get a chance to finish her sentence as Matilda advanced. 

"You deserve that and more, Ms. Romero," said Matilda defiantly. She pushed Rosanna firmly onto her bed. Matilda had been working out on a regular basis and she was almost as strong as Rosanna, who put up a brief ineffectual struggle. 

"I'm going to show you that you don't need any other woman, Rosanna." Matilda threw herself on top of Rosanna, grabbed her wrists, and plunged her tongue into Rosanna's unsuspecting mouth. Stunned, all Rosanna could think to do was return the favor. Oh my gosh, Rosanna thought, Matilda likes it rough! Why did I not know this? Rosanna's overloaded mind and over-heated body could take no more. She tore off Matilda's expensive suit, not caring whether she ripped off every button. She pealed off the barely-there Victoria's Secret underwear. Rosanna then proceeded to show Ms. Matilda Harper a thing or four about being in charge. 

Physically satisfied, but mentally frazzled, they fell asleep in each other's arms. When morning came, Rosanna rolled over, reached for Matilda and found her side of the bed cold and empty. She reached for the telephone, pressed the speed dial number for Matilda's apartment, but received Matilda's impersonal answering machine. She left a brief message and hung up. Why did she leave? She tried the number several more times, but received the same annoying message. She gave up and decided to go. The note left on her dresser stopped her. It read:

"Rosanna, 

I don't know what came over me last night. I know I was devastated about what you told me because I thought you had gotten over Solace. I'm not sure you met her just because you wanted to say goodbye and that bothers me. Maybe I was trying to prove something to myself—that I was strong and in charge. I wanted to make you see what you'd be giving up. Silly, I know, but right now I can't make much sense of anything, so I'm just going to abandon ship for a while. I'll call you when I'm ready. Love, Matilda."

Well, at least she put 'love', Rosanna thought and it dawned on her that she had never told Matilda that she loved her. And she did...didn't she? And where had she gone?



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 09



1998: Solace awakened that Sunday with anticipation. She was to meet Rosanna at Maria's Market—a new restaurant on 91st street that offered what was billed as "healthy" cuisine. Solace was not particularly health conscious, but she did make an effort to eat something nutritious at least a few times a week. She stood in front of her closet with the gooseneck lamp shining brightly over her shoulder. Gracious, that lamp is hot! I better pick something before I fry here. This was a thought that ran through her head each time she stood in front of her closet. She decided on a pair of white jeans and a red long-sleeved shirt. And now for the all-important shoes! She scanned the rows of her shoe rack and picked out a pair of white walking shoes that had a small black heel as she knew she'd be wearing a black sweater. As she was in such a free-spirited mood, she left her mane of auburn hair loose and simply brushed it to remove any stray tangles. She dabbed on a lipstick that she and Jessie had picked out at Bloomingdale's. Jessie had advised her that it made her look sexy, but not slutty. Now why did she care about looking sexy? Better not stop to analyze that one recalling the dream she'd had the night before. 

When she was ready, she sat down in her favorite chair. She hadn't been sitting two minutes when she jumped up and flew back into the bathroom for a last check of her lips and to dab a bit more deodorant on. She was filled with a nervous energy and couldn't seem to sit still, which was probably why she dashed out of her bathroom and into the wall. 

"Ouch!" she yelped. She backed into the bathroom to assess the damage. I better put some ice on it, she thought. Having retrieved the frigid remedy, she sat down and plastered it to her head hoping to avoid a goose-egg.

"Why me?" she asked the empty room. She answered her own question. "Because your head's screwed on backwards thinking about this woman. That's why. Now try to pull yourself together before you do serious damage to yourself or some unsuspecting pedestrian. 

She sat there until she checked her watch and realized she had better be going or she would be late. But I've got to call Jessie, she thought. I need her to give me some words of wisdom. She picked up the phone and punched in the numbers. The phone rang for quite a while before it was finally picked up by a very sleepy Jessie.

"Solace, this better be good. I just dropped off a couple of hours ago," said a very groggy Jessie.

"Is that true or are you trying to play one of your awful jokes on me?" Solace asked with suspicion.

"No, I'm not doing that. I worked on the musical until seven this morning and I—" She broke off. "What do you want, woman?" 

"I need advice. I'm meeting with Rosanna today and I just want to do the right thing and not scare her away," Solace said, unconsciously beginning to play with the dripping towel she had previously used to dab at her recently injured forehead.

"Solace, just be yourself," Jessie advised.

"Be myself? Well, I guess I could try that. You think she'll be freaked out by the blind thing?" Solace asked with uncharacteristic self-consciousness.

"Doesn't she already know?" Jessie asked.

"Well, yeah, but—" Solace realized that she must sound ridiculous and decided that Jessie was right. If Rosanna had been scared off by the blink act, she would not have asked her out. Right? Right. 

"Thank you, Jessie. You're right, as always," Solace said.

"Oh, please. You know you don't think I'm always right. So don't even try that, Solace. Just have a great time, okay. And goodbye!" With that she hung up the phone, rolled over and attempted to complete the sleep that crazy Solace had interrupted. But her last coherent thought was that she hoped Rosanna was not going out with Solace out of curiosity or pity. She fell asleep with a frown marring her smooth, milk-chocolate complexion. 

Solace put down the phone, grabbed up her bag and flew out of her door. She was halfway down the stairs when she realized that she had forgotten her cane. She ran back up the stairs, panting from exertion and frustration. She opened the door and went to its normal location. No cane. She growled. She then went on a rampage, looking for her lost mobility device. Where had she put it? She could not go without it. It did not occur to her to look in her closet.

Rosanna had not felt this nervous since her first date—and that was many dates ago. She chose her outfit with care, stopping at one point to remind herself that Solace probably would not be able to see what she was wearing. But she quickly dismissed that idea. Sol has some sight. I don't know how much, but she might be able to see me and I want to look good for her. Why this should matter so early in their relationship, she did not know. Relationship? She had chosen white pants, a navy long-sleeved shirt and short navy-colored boots. She applied only a light lipstick and dabbed on her signature scent--"Sensuale". She didn't have to worry about her hair because she had squeezed in an appointment with her stylist the day before. She smirked as she recalled the conversation:

"Alos, please! I need my hair done. I have a really important meeting." Rosanna hoped this would sway the popular, but temperamental hairdresser.

"Everyone's important, R. I have clients calling me up saying they're meeting with this person and that person. What can I do? I'm only one person," Alos Tempierri sighed with self-importance. Alos, who never allowed anyone to call him Al.

"Okay, Alos. I have a date." Rosanna confessed.

"Good for you. When don't you have a date?" Alos sniffed.

"Look. I'll make a deal with you. If you'll squeeze me in, I'll give you some computer lessons." Rosanna offered. She knew she must be desperate because the thought of the high-strung hair genius at a computer was positively frightening. But she needed her hair done.

"Well…maybe I can—" Alos began, but was interrupted.

"Great! When can I come?" Rosanna pounced on the opportunity like a puma on its prey. She did not want to give him any room to wriggle out of the deal.

"If you can make it here in half an hour, I'll start someone, do you, and finish them after," Alos said.

"I'll be right there," Rosanna said and hung up the phone without giving him a chance to say another word. As she dashed across town, she lamented her decision to teach Alos anything related to computers. She wondered if he could even grasp the basic concept of e-mail. Well, what was done was done and he certainly would not let her forget the hastily-made bargain. 

Rosanna slung a navy sack-like bag over her shoulders, grabbed up her keys and sunglasses and left her apartment. She gave herself plenty of time to walk as it was a glorious spring day—just right for getting to know someone.

Rosanna paced the sidewalk as she waited for Solace. She looked at her watch. Hadn't they said they would meet at eleven? Maybe in her uncharacteristic nervousness she had heard wrong. No. She wasn't that far gone yet. At half past eleven she began eyeing the streets for a pay phone. She thought she might call Solace. But why would Solace be home? She should be on her way. Rosanna waited outside the restaurant thinking, at least they hadn't made reservations. She was just about to walk down the block for what seemed the hundredth time when she felt someone hit her from behind nearly causing her to fall forward.

"What the—" Rosanna exclaimed as she whirled around to confront what she thought might be a mugger only to find Solace holding her nose.

"Excuse me. I didn't--" Solace began and then realized it was Rosanna. "Sanna! I'm so sorry. I couldn't find my cane. I never put it in the closet. I don't know what made me do that. I ran into a wall, and now I probably have a goose-egg." Solace was speaking so fast, Rosanna thought she might hyperventilate.

"Slow down, Sol," she said softly and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's all right. I'm just glad you're here. I was starting to worry." 

As Rosanna came closer to her, Solace became aware of a fragrance she had never experienced. It was difficult to describe, but it surrounded her in a heady cloud. 

"What are you wearing?" she asked Rosanna, taking in another whiff.

"White pants and a navy—" Rosanna began to describe her outfit but Solace interrupted her.

"No, you're fragrance." 

"Oh, it's called Sensuale." Rosanna answered, feeling slightly embarrassed at her assumption.

"it smells wonderful." Solace breathed.

"Thank you." Rosanna thought it must be true about what they say about blind people having heightened senses. She was quickly disabused of this idea with Solace's next statement.

"I don't want you to think that I have a keener sense of smell or anything. Actually, my sinuses are the bane of my existence, but I've never smelled anything like that and it's great."

"Oh, okay," Rosanna said, mentally crossing off heightened senses from her list. "We should go in." 

They entered the brightly lit restaurant and Rosanna noticed the curious and admiring stares of several patrons. She was unsure how this made her feel—uncomfortable, embarrassed? She should feel proud, though, because as Solace was inquiring about her cologne, she had been staring openly at Sol. She looked fantastic. Her clothes fit her lovely curves very well and her hair was a sight to behold. She felt her mouth go dry and her heart-rate quicken. Solace, of course, seemed completely oblivious. 

She had offered to take Solace by the arm, but she had gently, but firmly refused her assistance. 

From the moment they sat down, they talked. They were so engrossed, they barely remembered to eat the deliciously prepared omelets that lay before them, growing cold. Solace felt flushed with excitement and Rosanna could hardly sit still for the growing warmth that was seeping through her pours. 

Solace told Rosanna about her trials in college and Rosanna told Solace about her trials in starting and maintaining Getting Started With. And, of course, they discussed their favorite works by Mozart. 

Everything was going smoothly until Solace realized that the conversation had shifted to a barrage of questions about her visual impairment. Normally, she did not mind discussing the subject, but she wanted to learn more about Rosanna as well. However, once on this subject, Rosanna seemed reluctant to leave it until she had wrung every last drop of information out of Solace.

"Wow! Are you writing a book on visual impairment or something?" Solace asked between sips of her smoothie.

"No, I'm just curious. I've never been around someone who's—" Rosanna cut herself off.

"Blind," Solace finished. A prickling sense of discomfort began to creep slowly through her body, and she felt herself grow hot with a dreaded realization. "Rosanna," she began. "Did you ask me out because you were interested in me or because I'm blind?"


It was Rosanna's turn to feel uncomfortable.

"I…I… No. I asked you out because I wanted to spend some time with you, Sol" Rosanna stammered.

"Are you sure? Because it never entered my mind to come out with you because you're sighted." Solace said, her face feeling hot. She dabbed at her forehead with her napkin.

"Okay. I was curious, but, Sol… You're also…" Rosanna did not have a chance to finish her statement because Solace had risen and was unfolding her cane, preparing to leave.

"Sol, where are you going?" Rosanna asked, rising, putting a hand on Solace's arm.

"I'm not a curiosity, Rosanna. I'm a woman who thought she was going to spend a lovely afternoon with someone who was interested in me, not my disability." Solace wrenched her arm free from Rosanna's grasp and made her way to the door. She was moving at such a hurried pace that she didn't see the full plate of food perched on the end of the table. Crash! Solace's shoulder bag pulled down the plate as she passed. Food splattered the floor. The restaurant grew hushed for a few minutes, but quickly returned to life as a bus-boy rushed to clean up the mess.

"I'm so sorry," Solace muttered as she made her way to the door. Her eyes were filling with tears. This was not good as it made it even more difficult for her to see.

Rosanna watched the scene as if in slow motion. She paid for all meals, eaten and uneaten, and bolted out of the crowded restaurant. She hoped to be able to catch up to Solace.

Once outside, Rosanna looked left and right and spotted Solace making her way to a bus stop. She ran to catch up to her before the bus arrived—not too difficult in Manhattan she thought.

"Sol!," Rosanna called as she drew near the woman, who now stood dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Solace did not look up.

Rosanna came to stand directly in front of Solace. She took the tissue from Solace's hands and gently wiped away the tears. Solace reached out to retrieve the sodden article, but Rosanna grasped her hand.

"I'm sorry, Sol." She whispered.

"I'm not a freak. Just because you haven't encountered any blind people, doesn't mean we belong in Ripley's museum." Solace blurted out.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I was just—" Solace interrupted her.

"I know. Curious." Solace sighed in exasperation.

"Well, you know, it's hard to forget the blind thing since so far you've tried to sit on me, bump into me and topple over a perfectly good plate of food" Rosanna said, smiling down at her from her slightly elevated position. 

"Well… Oh my gosh, I've got to pay for that food." Solace realized with a start and reached into her bag as she began to head back to the restaurant. Rosanna stopped her by placing a firm hand on her cane.

"I did that," she said.

"How much was it? I'll pay you back. I didn't mean for you to pay for me. I have money." Solace said, looking straight into Rosanna's eyes, even though she still could not discern their color. This caught Rosanna off guard a bit as it did not appear that Solace had a vision problem at all.

"No, no. Let me do this…just this once…as an apology." Rosanna said, moving closer to Solace. 

Solace could feel Rosanna's warmth and smell her cologne, and she didn't want to argue about anything. She wanted to… No. I'm not going there here in the middle of the street.

"Okay," she said softly. "But you've got to let me do what I can do, Sanna." Solace said with finality.

"I will try my best, Sol. I'm pretty old-fashioned and I'll want to do for you." Rosanna countered, brushing a stray lock of hair from Solace's eyes.

"Old-fashioned is nice, but smothering is not. If you observe me, and I know you will, you'll see I'm pretty independent, Sanna. I promise." Solace finished.

"Okay. But can I walk you home?" Rosanna asked.

"Who says I'm walking? And, hey, you look great! We compliment each other." Solace said, running a hand down Rosanna's arm, sending warm tingles through both of them.

Impulsively, Rosanna leaned down and kissed Solace gently on the lips. Solace was taken completely by surprise, but she did not pull away. Rosanna's lips were satiny smooth, and she had to restrain herself from throwing her arms around the woman and melting into a longer embrace. When the kiss ended, they stared at each other in complicit silence. Solace had never had a really "out" friend and she was thrilled by the prospect. But she would let Rosanna Romero know that she was no pushover. She was certain this Latin lover was a true lady's woman, and she had to make it clear that they should be friends first and then… Well, who knew? Solace wondered how long her resolve would last.

Rosanna simply could not hold herself back when she bent her head to peck Solace on the lips. They were such beautiful lips and she desperately needed the contact. How long would it be before…? No. She couldn't just throw this one in the sack and ravish her, excruciatingly tempting though it might be. Pleasantly surprised, she found she wanted much more from Ms. Solace Tynan. Coincidentally, Solace was thinking the very same thing about Ms. Romero.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 10



Solace was the fourth and final child born to Isolinda and Ace Tynan. To affirm their love, they had decided to give their baby a combination of their names. They were delighted when they realized that they had given her a name that actually meant support and comfort. And the baby Solace had been a comfort to them. They had wanted two boys and two girls and Solace had obligingly been born a girl. The running joke around the Tynan apartment was that Solace would be a comfort to her parents in their old age. Her siblings, Ace, Jr. “A.C., Robert “Robby” (named after Isolinda’s brother, Roberto), and Miranda “Mira” (named after Ace’s mother) were in various stages of marriage, divorce, and engagement, respectively. 

Solace considered herself the bohemian of her family; and her family whole-heartedly agreed. Her father and older brother were pharmacists (or drug dealers as Solace loved to call them). They, however, were not as fond of this moniker as most people might imagine. Her brother Robby had dreams of becoming a great baseball player. To this end, he bounced around from one minor league to another. Solace teased him that he should try to sign up with the Mets. “They can’t do any worse! And you might even improve their performance at this point in the game.” Solace knew or cared nothing for baseball, but the school for the blind that she had attended used to drag them to Met games. When she was lucky, she was able to feign sickness and hang out with cute Nurse Baldwin. Her sister, Mira, was studying to become a nutritionist, hoping to land a job working for a “mega-celebrity” as she called them. 

To the Tynan’s unspoken disappointment, none of their older children had proven to have an ounce of talent when it came to the performing arts. However, this did not deter Isolinda and Ace. They took them to see Broadway shows, plays, and concerts in the park so that they might at least gain an appreciation even if they had no inclination in pursuing the arts. 

The first time Solace opened her mouth to sing, Isolinda began to cry. This was not an unusual response. She cried over any achievement of her children. Consequently, she was never seen without a clean handkerchief. Both Solace and Ace cried many private tears when they learned that Solace would be visually impaired. They sent her to public school from her first to eighth year and then she was sent to a school for the blind.

“Why are you sending me away?” Solace cried, even though she knew it was not cool to whine when you were thirteen years old.

“We’re not sending you away, Sollie.” Ace replied, holding his daughter’s trembling hand. His was shaking as well.

“Your guidance counselor says it’s the best thing for you right now.” Isolinda said as her handkerchief moved ceaselessly across her tear-stained face. 

“She couldn’t guide a mouse to a piece of cheese. Why can’t I just go to public school?” Solace asked, becoming louder and more shrill.

“Calm down, Solace. I know it’s difficult for you to understand this now, and you won’t believe us either, but you will learn to get along as a blind person.” There. Ace had finally said it. He had tried to deny the truth for thirteen years, but it was time to face reality and maybe come to some kind of peace.

“And besides, Sollita. We checked and they have an excellent music program there. We wouldn’t send you somewhere that you wouldn’t like.” Isolinda choked on these words for deep in her heart of hearts she did not want to send her daughter away, but she and Ace had talked it over a thousand times and had come to this conclusion and it was all planned. But maybe the could… No.

“Please mama, daddy… Don’t send me away. I can be just like any other kid. Really.” Solace wailed.

“You know what, Sollie, you’re special.” Ace had tried to comfort her but Solace’s rapid-fire wit cut to the quick.

“I’m not special, like a…a retard,” she yelled.

“Solace!” Isolinda cried, “Don’t ever say that again.”

“Solace, you know we don’t say that word in this house,” Ace scolded.

“Well, that’s how I feel right now…like a freak who’s going to be shut away for years.” 

“Solace, you're going to be picked up every day. You’re not going to miss anything.” Ace reminded her.

“But—“ Solace sniffled. 

The summer seemed to have sprouted wings before the September Solace was to enter the Hampton School for the Blind. As any stubborn, rebellious teenager, she had made up her mind that she was not going to like anything about the place. Much to her chagrin, she would soon be changing her mind about Hamtune, as she would come to call it.

Being visually impaired in a sighted household and school had its advantages and drawbacks. Solace learned early on to play her “poor little blind girl” act when she wanted something from her teachers or to weasel her way out of homework assignments. They were such pushovers! This routine did not, however, work with her family. Her parents had seen Solace’s “PLBG” act and had warned her siblings not to be taken in by their cute little sister. 

Unbeknownst to their parents, though, the Tynan children had worked out a system of bartering. Each child had a “best subject” and they rotated in doing each other’s homework. Solace did the math assignments, Mira, the writing Robby, the history and Ace, the science, of course. In order for Solace to do her fair share, the assignments were read to her or put on her trusty tape recorder. As they were only a year apart, this arrangement worked out fairly well until someone didn’t do the requested assignment on time. 

At times, assignments were sabotaged when the two parties involved were feuding and since they had made a pact not to divulge their homework helper plot to their parents, all the offended individual could do was complain to any sibling who would listen. 


In Solace’s first year at Hampton, she realized that she was not special after all. Everyone was blind. She found this turn of events both refreshing and frustrating. No more PLBG act. The teachers at Hampton assured the Freshmen during orientation that no pity could be sought or would be tolerated. Groans could be heard throughout the auditorium. 

In Solace’s first year, she learned many skills that would benefit her in life, but the one skill which she prized among all others was learning to read Braille music as this allowed her access to her beloved music. She practiced incessantly. She had set her sights on becoming a vocal student and voice teacher and nothing would sway her from this goal. To that end, she drove her brothers and sisters to distraction, singing non-stop. They actually paid her not to sing. And, of course, she joined any musical production at Hampton.

It was in one of these productions, in her Junior year, that she met and fell (head first and body last) in love with a member of the cast—a lovely young lady named Lizette Johnson. This revelation turned Solace’s already dramatic world into full-blown hysterical status! 

Solace was to play the lead in the Sound of Music. She was thrilled as this was one of her all-time favorite musicals, no matter how corny Ace and Robby thought it was. As the cast assembled in the auditorium for their first rehearsal and Mr. Cramer droned on about schedules and learning lines and music, Solace turned to hear what sounded to her like the most sexy voice she had ever heard. Who did it belong to and why hadn’t she heard it before? She later learned the dulcet tones had been created by a girl with shoulder-length, dark hair. Solace could not tell whether it was black or brown, but it did not matter. It was her voice that sent shivers through Solace’s entire body. That voice could coax the cream out of an Oreo cookie! 

“Solace? Are you with us today?” asked Mr. Cramer sarcastically.

“I’m not quite sure,” Solace responded honestly, slowly coming out of her fog. Faint snickers could be heard from her cast members.

“Well, I know you’ll have this memorized in a week, but try to stay with us anyway, Ms. Tynan.” Mr. Cramer finished.

Usually Solace had no problem learning lines or music, but she found that she could not concentrate on any task without Lizette’s voice floating silkily through her head. And the times they had lines together were nearly impossible. Each time Lizette would recite a segment, Solace would stand there for a half a beat, mind completely focused on Lizette soft lips and the sounds emanating from them.

“Solace, are you feeling well today? Mr. Cramer asked in concern. He had directed Solace in several productions, and she had always exhibited nothing less than professionalism. Now, she seemed to be falling apart. “Solace?” he called again.

“Yes, Mr. Cramer?” Solace said without turning to face him.

“I asked if you were feeling all right. You have the next line.” 

Solace could feel her face turn red as. She held up her bulky Braille script and checked her line and recited it.

“Well, that was about as believable as toast. Let’s take ten, folks.” Mr. Cramer called. The cast members relaxed and made their way backstage. Squeals could be heard as young blind boys “accidentally” bumped into the girls in front of them, attempting to grab an unsuspecting derriere. 

Solace and Lizette made their way down the short flight of stage steps. Although Lizette was a year older than Solace, she looked much younger. She had confided to Solace that her parents babied her and would not allow her to do the terrific stuff she had learned in school and did not believe that she could lead an independent life. Solace had advised her that she should think about going away to college. She would live to regret that advice.

“Solace, come with me to the bathroom, okay?” Lizette said nonchalantly. She certainly did not have to ask twice. Solace would have followed her off the edge of the earth if she had asked. They made their way to a nearby rest room. They hadn’t been in the room five minutes before Lizette pulled Solace to her, placed her lips on hers and gave Solace her first real kiss. 

“Is that my next action? I hope I got it right.” Lizette breathed.

“Yeah,” sighed Solace. That was all she could manage.

Lizette leaned in for another kiss, which Solace did not deny her. They wrapped their arms about each other and moaned softly. They were lost in young passion and only broke apart when they heard the wooden outer door of the bathroom squeak, signaling that someone was coming in. They rushed to separate stalls and stood there frozen. Solace pinched herself and let out a silent yelp. 

“Solace? Are you in here?” called her friend, Maria. 

“Uh, yeah! I’ll be right out, Maria!” Solace called back and flushed. She left the stall, washed her hands and blew Lizette a kiss in the direction where she knew Lizette was hiding. She left the bathroom thinking, Oh shit! What the hell do we do now? But she wore a huge smile.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 11



A blue-jean clad Rosanna Romero lay on her bed, eyes closed, hands clasped behind her head, a faint smile playing around the corners of her lips. She was reliving her evening's activities—well, mainly one activity. She and Anna had enjoyed some fairly intense kisses and caresses during the past months, but this evening she had returned a definite lover. They had "gone all the way". It had been a first for both of them and, as any first time, it would not or could not ever be forgotten. 

As Mozart played softly on her stereo, Rosanna relived the exquisite moments and her body warmed with excitement all over again. She picked up the phone and called Anna to find out if she were feeling something similar.

It was no small wonder that her mother, Carla Romero, a Pediatrician, had asked her why she was glowing and seemed so happy. Carla knew that the third degree would not work on Rosanna. Her daughter was, by nature, a quiet introspective person who would only be drawn out when ready, if at all. And she had become even more taciturn since the death of her father, Antonio, two years earlier. Carla had been able to heal Rosanna’s physical aches, but was unable to get Rosanna to speak to any of her colleagues in psychology. Rosanna had simply sat there in sullen silence. Finally, Carla had relented and ceased what Rosanna had called the “torture by talking” sessions. In truth, it had been extremely difficult for Carla herself to move on since that tragic day. She’d had a series of casual, mostly unsatisfying affairs, but had not found anyone who came within an inch of her Tony. They had been each other’s soul mates. As many before her, she wrapped herself up in her work and her daughter. Fortunately, her practice had allowed them to live a comfortable life—one less thing to worry about. But she always worried about her Rosanna. 

Anna Martin had been admiring Rosanna for four months. She was new to Liberty High and was scouting for prospective friends and partners. She found herself in the same math class with Rosanna and the dark-haired beauty had caught her eye and her imagination. She had conjured many scenarios in which they met, talked, became friends and possibly engaged in other activities. Her fantasies had become so powerful that she was forced to satisfy herself on a nightly basis to relieve her growing tension. Anna became almost obsessed with luring Rosanna to her. She attempted to start a conversation with her several times after class, but that Casey Deans was always waiting outside the classroom door and they strode off down the corridor to their next class while Anna stood fuming in frustration. Those two were practically inseparable. If Anna hadn’t known that Casey was a boy-toy, she would have sworn that she and Rosanna were more than friends.

Anna was a perky brunette, under five feet tall, well-developed young woman who had known early on that she was attracted to other girls. Rather than be ashamed and fearful, she wore her sexuality with pride. Fortunately, she was in an artistic school, which was accustomed to the eccentricities of its students. 

In a moment of genius, Anna realized that she had a perfect opportunity to talk to Rosanna every day, and she hadn’t known why she had not thought of it sooner. No matter. She was going to have Ms. Rosanna Romero. She would talk to Rosanna before class started. Rosanna was always early. Her mind and eyes focused on her math book. She appeared to be copying every example. 

The next day, Anna woke in a state of near frenzy,. She stood in front of her closet deciding on what she considered the perfect outfit. She chose a red cashmere sweater which had been given to her for the holidays. She wore body-hugging black pants and boots with a small heel. She didn’t want to trip and fall on the ice just for vanity’s sake. She put on her usual light makeup, looked in the mirror and pronounced herself ready. 

“That sweater looks great on you, Annie,” her mother, Andrea, commented.

“Thanks mom. I hope a certain someone thinks so,” replied Anna as she flew out the front door. The day was brisk and cold, but Anna’s excitement kept her warm all day. 

Anna walked into the dull room where they had math—not her best subject, but she had been able to catch up with the lessons. She spotted Rosanna sitting in her usual seat on the far side of the room, her nose buried in her book, her bangs falling forward. Anna’s heart beat out of control and she was dismayed to find that her stomach was beginning to feel a bit queasy. She grabbed her middle, trying to massage the unwanted feeling away. 

She had prepared a speech that she hoped would begin: 

“Hi. I’ve been noticing you.” And Rosanna would reply in her sultry low tones: “I’ve been noticing you noticing me.” 

Anna knew it was really corny, but, after all, it was a fantasy, and they could be as gushy as you wanted. What she actually said, though, was not the stuff of fantasies but was more suited to a medical drama.

“Oh, I think I’m going to throw up!” She put one hand to her mouth and the other out in front of her as if reaching for a place on which to lean.

Rosanna jumped up, grabbed Anna by the arm and half dragged her to the bathroom where she proceeded to be horribly ill. What the hell had happened? Had she been that nervous or had the damned sandwich meat been stale? Her mom was so bad at checking on the life of the food in the fridge. She was too busy painting. When Anna felt the abdominal spasms subside, she left the stall. Now she had a wicked headache, but that she could handle.

“I’m so sorry,” Anna said weakly. She moved to the sink, washed her face and rinsed her mouth with cold water and searched blindly for the paper towel dispenser. Rosanna handed her a few sheets of the brown, rough paper.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

“I think so. I don’t know what happened.” Anna said, gingerly wiping her face. 

“Were you drinking last night?” Rosanna asked with a slight smirk.

“Drinking? No. I can’t drink. It makes me throw up.” Anna said, realizing what she had said. They both chuckled.

“Did you have something bad to eat for lunch? Maybe you’re coming down with a bug. Do you walk with that pink stuff?” Rosanna asked these questions in rapid-fire succession, looking at Anna with some concern.

“Wow! Is one of your parents a doctor or something? Anna asked, holding up her hand in mock protest.

“My mom’s a pediatrician.” Rosanna answered sheepishly.

“Ah…that explains the medical third degree. Do you want to become one? Anna asked a question of her own.

“Not really. I used to visit my mom’s practice a lot when I was younger and I guess I picked up my bed-side manner from her.” Rosanna smiled. “You still look a little pale. Maybe you should see the nurse.”

“Nah. We’ve got to get back to class. Ms. Archer is already going to give us the evil eye. You know, she’s trying to prepare us for the SATs,” Anna replied soberly.

“Don’t remind me,” Rosanna said with a groan.

“Not a math person, eh?” Anna asked.

“Not a math anything. If it doesn’t have to do with money, I don’t want to have anything to do with it.” Rosanna admitted, realizing she was talking more with this stranger than she had with anyone besides her abuelita and Casey. 

“Do you have any gum?” Anna asked suddenly. Rosanna reached into her pocket and removed a pack, handing it to Anna, who took two sticks and gave it back to her. 

“Thanks. I think I need a double shot.” Anna said gratefully, sorry that she hadn’t thought to walk with her toothbrush. Of course, who would have guessed that she would be puking her guts out instead of chatting up Rosanna with fresh, clean breath? She remembered her headache and asked shyly,

“Do you have any ibuprofen? I’m starting to get a headache. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me today.” Anna placed both hands on her head and began to try to massage the pain away.

“Here. Let me.” Rosanna said, removing Anna’s hands and replacing them with her own gentle fingers. “My mom used to do this for me whenever I had a headache.” Rosanna felt heat coming off of Anna’s body, which she did not think was normal. Headache or no 

Headache, Anna could have swooned right there. Rosanna’s hands in her hair gave her a feeling of euphoria, and she thanked the goddess for providing this unique opportunity. As good as this impromptu massage felt, she felt herself growing feverish. Good grief, she really was coming down with something. Hopefully, it would only be a 24-hour bug and she wouldn’t miss any school. The timing of this situation was turning out to be rotten indeed.

“Rosanna?” Anna said softly, not wanting to rile her protesting stomach further. “I think I have to go to the nurse. I think you’re right. I’m not feeling too well.” This said, Anna fell face forward onto Rosanna's chest. Only quick thinking and reflexes on Rosanna’s part kept them both from toppling to the floor. Without thinking, she caught Anna in her arms, picked her up as if she weighed no more than a towel and ran to the nurse’s office where it was pronounced that she had the flu. 

Andrea was called to come and take her daughter home immediately. She rushed into the office, long brunette hair flying, wearing a paint-stained smock.  Absently, Rosanna noticed the striking resemblance between mother and daughter. Andrea Fields thanked Rosanna profusely for helping her daughter. Rosanna shrugged it off and returned to her class. She did not notice the interested glances of the students who had seen her carrying Anna to the medical department. The glances would quickly turn to gossip.

“Everyone’s talking about your dramatic rescue,” Casey said the next day during lunch.

“What dramatic rescue? Oh, that. That was not dramatic, Casey. Anna doesn’t weigh anything.” Rosanna responded, a bit annoyed.

“Well, apparently, you looked like a real knight in shining armor, Ross,” she said while munching on a cold French fry.

“These people need to get lives and mind their own business.” Rosanna growled.

“Methinks the Ross doth protest too much,” Casey answered in a phony English accent. Rosanna said nothing. Her food had become unappealing to her and she shoved it away.

“Oh, come on, Ross. It’s cute!” Casey continued.

“Right. Cute to who? Rosanna snarled.

“To whom, Sir Ross.” Casey corrected and smiled. She brushed a lock of Rosanna’s hair out of her eyes and said, “Face it, Ross, you’re a hunky heroine! Get used to it!” 

“I am no such thing. And I hate the word heroine. It sounds like I do drugs or something,” Rosanna retorted.

Casey rose, tweaked Rosanna on the nose and tossed her garbage into a nearby receptacle

“I’ll call you tonight, Ross...I mean, stud!” Casey called as she left the cafeteria.  Rosanna sat brooding. Eventually, her mind drifted to Anna Martin. She hoped she would return to school soon. She wished she had thought to get her phone number, but everything had happened in double time. And Anna was in no shape to give anything that wild day.

It took three days before Anna finally shook off the virus and returned to school, her lovely face paler than usual. She entered her math class, sat down in a vacant seat next to Rosanna and said, “Thank you, Rosanna. Here’s my number. Give me a call. I’ll help you with your math.” That said, she got up and went to her assigned seat. Ms. Archer was a stickler about that, too. It wasn’t the opening she’d hoped for, but, perhaps it would have the desired affect. Rosanna sat staring at the number on the now crumpled piece of paper. She was proud and did not want to admit that she needed tutoring, but Anna had offered, and it might help her at least achieve a passing grade on that damned SAT. She dialed the phone. Anna picked up on the first ring. 

In a few short months, they went from studying math problems to studying each other’s young bodies. This segment of the tutorial session began by Anna's gentle stroking of Rosanna’s smooth arm, making it quite difficult for either teen to concentrate. Anna’s fantasies were in the process of being realized and, to her very pleasant surprise, so were Rosanna’s. She wondered what words of wisdom her abuelita would have regarding this turn of events. She would call her later. 



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 12



1999: Solace and Rosanna had known each other for a year. In that time they learned a great deal because they spent hours talking, mostly in person as they lived in such close proximity. Solace discovered that Rosanna had a real thing for neatness and order. This subject was the source of several heated discussions and activities.

“Sol, why don’t you put your stuff where you’re going to find it. If you would put your cane, your bag, your shoes, your watch, your brush…everything in a special place, you wouldn’t have to look for them every time you’re going out,” Rosanna said in exasperation as she searched Solace’s coat closet, for what seemed the hundredth time for the bag which solace claimed held the wallet with her credit cards and identification.

“Look, are you going to help me, Sanna, or bitch?” Solace asked, hands on hips, but she remembered something and dashed into her bedroom. 

“I’m going to do both because we go through this all the time, and you don’t seem to be trying to do anything about it, Sol,” Rosanna answered in annoyance. She moved around the living room, turning over pillows and looking under tables.

“I have a system, you know!” Solace called from her bedroom. These words stopped Rosanna in mid-search.

“You do?” she asked incredulously. It did not seem possible that Solace, who was always searching for some lost item, had the nerve to say she actually had a method behind her madness. She marched into Solace’s bedroom, which was surprisingly neat. Solace had probably crammed everything into her closets. 

“And what would--?” Rosanna did not finish her query because she was stunned into silence by the sight of Solace’s panty-clad rear end as she crawled around her queen-size bed. She finally managed to come to her overloaded senses to ask, “Sol, what are you doing?” Her hands trembled slightly and her heart rate definitely sped up a notch.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m looking under my bed,” Came Solace’s muffled reply. She was sweeping the floor with her hands. 

Rosanna’s arousal turned to mirth and she began to chuckle.

“Do you think this is funny, Sanna, the fact that I can’t find my identification and maybe somebody might be stealing all my credit right now?” asked Solace continuing to search, her buns moving from side to side in her efforts.

“Oh, no, Sol, of course not.” Rosanna said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “But why are you looking under your bed for a bag? Shouldn’t bags be hanging on a hook in your closet?” Rosanna asked, making an imaginary circle around Solace’s buttocks as if it were a target.

“I think I might have brought it in here last night. I was so tired; I came right in here and collapsed. I think I dropped it down,” Solace replied, making her way slowly around her bed. 

As Rosanna followed Solace’s progress, she looked up briefly and spotted the bag on the window-seat. She said nothing because she was enjoying the show of Solace’s bouncing buns. Her fingers flexed as she thought about caressing those glorious round cheeks. . 

“And what system is this, Sol? I have to hear this.” Rosanna crossed the room and sat on a nearby cushion. Solace's only chairs were in her kitchen.

“Well,” continued Solace, “I believe that the brain should not be taxed with trying to remember every minute detail of our lives. So I am selective with my memory.” She finished her speech with conviction. 

“And what have you selected to remember?” Rosanna asked as she grabbed the bag from the window-seat and placed it in her lap.

“I have selected to remember how to make those delicious dishes for which you are always complimenting me.” Rosanna could not argue this point as Sol was a wizard of efficiency in the kitchen and her dinners were causing Rosanna to have to work even harder at the gym to keep off the extra pounds. How Sol did it she did not know, an enviable metabolism she supposed. Solace assured her that she only really cooked for her guests and she did not have the inclination to prepare such meals for herself. 

Solace stood up and moved towards Rosanna. She leaned over and teasingly stuck out her tongue. As she did so, she noticed that Rosanna held an object in her lap. Solace put out her hands, examined the item, and realized it was her lost bag.

“Sanna, how long have you been holding my bag?” she asked sweetly.

“Oh, not long,” Rosanna replied with a wicked smile.

“And why didn’t you tell me you had it?” Solace inquired further as she attempted to wrench the bag from Rosanna’s death grip. 

“Well, I was enjoying your scrambling around your bed. You have the cutest butt.” Rosanna responded in a mischievous tone, hoping Solace would not try to retaliate.

“Oh, really?” Solace said, moving her hands towards Rosanna’s middle. She pounced! Because Rosanna was holding the bag she did not have her usual lightening quick advantage. Solace began to tickle her mercilessly. Rosanna laughed through her protestations and dropped the bag. She grabbed Solace’s hands in her strong ones and held on.

“Not fair! I’ve got to start working out!” shrieked Solace. She was wearing only a short, satin dressing gown, which began to slide up her body suggestively as she struggled to free herself.  The garment accented Solace’s smooth body, and it was having a hypnotic effect on Rosanna. She pulled Solace to her and kissed her, her tongue seeking gentle entrance into Solace’s warm mouth. Solace did not protest. Rosanna released Solace’s hands and wrapped her arms around her waist. As the kiss deepened she began stroking Solace’s back in slow, sensuous circles. Solace went limp for she loved kissing Rosanna’s sweeter than honey lips. 

Solace broke off the kiss reluctantly, her breathing ragged. She looked right at Rosanna's now flushed face. “You take advantage of me, Sanna. You find my stuff, your way too strong and then you make me weak with your kisses. It’s just not fair.” She twirled her finger around a lock of Rosanna’s dark hair and pulled, not hard enough to do damage, just enough to make her point.

“All’s fair in—“ Rosanna began but was stopped by Solace’s own kiss.

“Please don’t finish that,” Solace breathed as they came up for air. Rosanna’s hands began a slow journey down Solace’s satin-covered back. As her caresses neared Solace’s tantalizing derriere, her progress was halted by Solace’s firm hand.

“No, Sanna,” Solace said, a note of determination, tinged with regret in her voice.

“Why, Sol. You know you want me to.” Rosanna breathed, a note of frustration and confusion coloring her own tones.

“I…you…if we… Oh, just no, Sanna!” Solace broke away from Rosanna, turned and rummaged for a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt that were strewn across her bed. She entered her bathroom and closed the door. As she dressed, she thought about her decision not to allow Rosanna to continue what would surely have been an extremely erotic and satisfying experience. She felt in her deepest core that if she gave herself to Rosanna, it would be the end of their relationship. Rosanna would move on having achieved her goal of conquest. The fact that they shared many interests: music, political beliefs, tastes in plays and musicals and, of course, their shoe addiction, would come up only a distant second. But she also worried that if she didn’t give herself to Rosanna, that Rosanna might give up on her and move on to more willing prospects. She was torn. She asked Jessie about it and had received the non-committal response of ‘do what feels right to you, Solace’. Well, that was no help because what felt right was making wild and passionate love to Rosanna.

When Solace returned to the room, Rosanna was gone. She raced to the living room in a panic only to find Rosanna lounging on her favorite cushion, arms crossed over her chest, legs crossed at the ankles, simply waiting for Solace to make her entrance.

“One day, Sol,” was all Rosanna said. Her voice was low, sultry, and confident.

“One day, Sanna.” Solace agreed. 

As Rosanna attempted to continually coax Solace into putting her belongings in a more “blind-friendly” manner, Solace tried to curb Rosanna’s quick and impulsive temper, which had been displayed on several memorable occasions. It was as if a button had been pushed and she could not control herself. One incident stood out in particular because it had almost landed Rosanna in jail. The situation had flared up like a match struck on a birthday cake, but there certainly had been nothing to celebrate. 

“Do you want to rehearse tonight, Sol?” Rosanna asked as she leaned on the banister leading up to Solace’s apartment. 

“Okay. I think we need it.” Solace responded with a grimace. They had returned from a walk in the Central Park Zoo where Rosanna had described, in animated and colorful detail, the antics of the animals. This had touched Solace's heart. She and Jessie had visited the zoo often , but they were usually so engrossed in discussing some aspect of their lives, that they paid little attention to the cute creatures. 

“I’ve got to pick up my suit, but I’ll call you when I’m coming over, okay?” Rosanna said, brushing a rebellious strand of hair out of Solace’s eyes. Before Solace could reply, a car pulled up and a young man in his mid-twenties leapt out, but before doing so he turned up his radio, which was tuned to a heavy metal station. He was of medium height and build, with shoulder length blond hair, which looked in sorrowful need of washing and combing. He wore stained blue jeans and a “Disco Sucks” tee-shirt. He lounged against his car, removed a pack of cigarettes from a pocket, lit it with a lighter taken from the same pocket and began smoking. 

Rosanna had turned to make note of him when he pulled up, but she now turned her attention back to Solace. They made an effort to complete their farewells, almost yelling.  But the music precluded attempts at conversation. Neighbors stuck their heads out of windows to see who was disturbing their usually quiet block. 

Abruptly, Rosanna whirled around, flung herself down the three flights of steps and straight into the young man’s face. Solace reached into her bag, pulled out her cane and made her way down the stairs. She went to stand behind Rosanna. 

“Could you turn that down please?” Rosanna yelled into the young man’s face.

“What?” he asked without removing the cigarette from between his lips.

“The music,” Rosanna pointed into the car at the offending radio. “Turn it down. We can’t hear ourselves above that crap!”

Although the young man was taller than Rosanna by six inches, she did not flinch as he straightened up and stood directly in front of her.

“Listen, Butch.”  Solace flinched at this name, but Rosanna seemed not to have heard it. “I have a right to play my music anywhere and anyhow I like and you can’t do a fucking thing about it,” he spat back.

“Really?” Rosanna yelled. With that she leaned into his car and pushed the power button and the music came to an abrupt end. Silence and tension filled the air. The sound of closing windows could be heard. Some of the good citizens of a hundred and ninth street did not want to get involved.

“What the fuck?” he stammered, the cigarette falling onto the pavement. “You touched my shit.” He moved, fists clenched, towards Rosanna but before he knew what had happened he was face down on the sidewalk, and Rosanna was sitting on his back, pulling his head by his greasy hair.

“Sanna!” Solace screamed, but Rosanna was in her temper zone. Solace called again. “Sanna, please, let him go! I need you.” Rosanna’s mind cleared and she turned to see Solace’s tear-stained face. She jumped off the young man’s back, kicked him in the buttocks and went to stand by Solace, taking her in her arms. Rosanna could feel solace shaking violently. 

A siren could be heard in the distance and a police vehicles soon came barreling down the street. The young man lay sprawled on the ground. Blood was visible under his nose.

“Get up, asshole!” Rosanna ordered. When he did not respond, she yanked him by his tee-shirt and hauled him to his feet. He stood there stunned, probably in shock over being taken down by a woman.

“I’m gonna have you arrested for assault, bitch. My nose is probably broken.” He put his hand to his face; it came away smeared coppery red.

Rosanna said nothing. She stood there, holding Solace tightly. 

Two police officers exited their vehicle. They walked up to the trio. They asked the requisite questions and received a colorful, if erroneous account of the situation from the young man. He did, however, have a bloody nose. The officers looked from Rosanna to the young man and back again.

“We’re going to have to take you in, Ma’am. He wants to file an assault charge,” one of the officers informed Rosanna, who still stood speechless and motionless. She seemed incapable of defending herself.

Finally, Solace spoke up. She disengaged herself from Rosanna and with cane in hand proceeded to speak in the opposite direction of everyone.

“Officer, please. This woman is my guide. It took me forever to get anyone from social services and she’s the best one I’ve had so far. If I don’t have her, I’ll starve because I won’t have anyone to go to shop with me. I can’t read signs and my mobility is terrible.” She walked a few paces and began addressing the young man who was behind her. “I’m sorry your nose is injured. I'll be glad to pay for any medical bills. But please, don’t press charges. She was just defending me.” 

Rosanna, the young man and the officers stood there in dumb silence. The officers turned to the young man, who gave them a blank look.

“Look, Sir. She’s offered to pay for your medical bills. Why don’t you let it go this time, eh?” pressed one of he officers, his face beat-red with embarrassment.

“Well…” the young man started.

“We’ll give you a ride to Mt. Sinai. You can exchange information.” 

“All-fucking right,” growled the young man. He reached into his car, grabbed a pencil and paper from the glove compartment as Solace reached into her bag to retrieve her slate and stylus. Everyone watched intently as Solace gave her work number to the man and he tried to hand his slip of paper to her. 

“Rosanna!” she called, flailing her arms about. “Rosanna!” 

Without so much as the slightest smile at this performance, Rosanna came out of her stupor and went to Solace’s side. She took Solace by the arm and guided her back to the small group.

The young man withdrew the hand holding out the paper. “Oh, fuck it!” he snarled. He got into his car, grabbed a tissue from the glove compartment, and pressed it against his nose. Once he determined that his nose was not going to drop off his face in a bloody clump, he threw the soiled tissue onto the passenger’s seat, started his engine and drove off, leaving the group standing, mouths agape, in his wake.

The officers turned to Rosanna and told her that she was indeed a lucky woman. They got into their vehicle and drove away. Rosanna watched as they sped off. 

Solace and Rosanna made their way to Solace’s apartment where she ordered Rosanna to sit down and calm down. She went to her bathroom and returned with a damp washcloth and commenced wiping the face of a now perspiring Rosanna who sat allowing the ministrations. After awhile, Solace asked, “What happened, Sanna?”

“I don’t know.” Rosanna whispered, shrugging her shoulders.

“I know one thing. He won’t be coming around here too often.” Solace smirked. “Where did you learn that move?”

“I take self-defense classes and they teach us to try to take them down before they get you, especially if they’re bigger,” Rosanna answered, pulling Solace onto her lap. “You did some fast thinking down there, Sol. You should have seen their faces when you were looking in the wrong direction. They didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do. That was some act. I owe you, Sol. Thank you. You saved my ass!” She finished by kissing her lightly on the lips. 

“I’ll have to think of a way for you to repay me,” Solace said as she snuggled into Rosanna, feeling and hearing Rosanna’s heart beat slow.

“I’m sure you will,” Rosanna said as she ran her hands up and down Solace’s back. “I’m sure you will.”



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 13



2003: Rosanna had only received one phone call from Matilda in the two weeks since her abrupt departure. She called to say that she was fine and would be staying with a friend in upstate New York. She did not offer a name and Rosanna stubbornly did not ask for one. She simply listened, her blood boiling and temples throbbing as Matilda explained that she needed to think about their future. Rosanna offered that perhaps they should discuss their future together, but Matilda had said that she was not ready for that. When Rosanna asked her when she could expect her back in town, Matilda said that she could not commit to anything as definite as a date. They hung up and Rosanna took four ibuprofen tablets and went to the gym to work off the tension. Such was the tenor of her days. She would go to work, maintaining an attitude of cool professionalism—so she supposed. From there she spent two hours at the gym. Her physical exertions caused her mind to become dull and blank—at least for a short period of time. Once, she left the gym, she went home to her empty apartment. She wished she could talk to Sam. She missed him a great deal. 

Her dear friend was off shooting the wild things (thankfully only with a camera). He had landed what he considered a seriously excellent job as a photographer for a well-known nature magazine and was doing a lot of globe trotting. Currently, Rosanna had mementos from Australia, China, and Japan. They had met in college at a lesbian/gay mixer and become close friends. Sam told her all the gory details and adventures of his latest boy-toy and she eventually got around to confiding her feelings, fears, and fantasies first about Solace and later, Matilda. Sam gave terrific sound advice. He listened to any suggestions Rosanna offered intently, but inevitably did the exact opposite. He was also her biking buddy, and they had logged too many miles to count. Sam had promised to call her as soon as ‘was humanly possible and decent’, but as yet she had not heard from him. Rosanna was certain he would return ready to tell all about his latest trek.

During the two weeks, Rosanna picked up her phone on several occasions, thinking to call Solace, but she always stopped herself. What could she say? What did she want to say? What would Solace say? Again, the questions swirled around in her brain like a kaleidoscope, never stopping on a single answer. 

Bored one Saturday, and tired of brooding, Rosanna decided to take a solo bike trip down Manhattan’s east side. This would give her body a real workout. She donned her biking shorts and jacket, grabbed her helmet and racing bike and dashed out the door. Once on the street, she put her feet to the pedals and pumped furiously towards a dangerous, high speed ride. The bracing wind whipped around her and it felt almost as if she were flying. She recklessly weaved in and out of traffic, only braking when absolutely necessary.  

As she stopped for a light, she saw a woman crossing the street using a white mobility cane. How was it that she had never seen blind people before? She probably had, she just had not been paying attention. Solace had opened her eyes to the fact that blind people were everywhere. Rosanna’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the unsuspecting pedestrian.  She noted how the woman’s swing differed from Solace’s. She noticed her hair color and thought of Solace’s wavy locks. She also took in the woman’s style of dress. Rosanna did not miss a single detail that was in her vision. She was jolted back to her senses by the honking of horns, signaling that annoyed motorists wanted her to get out of the way. She sped off, her legs pumping even harder and faster, her muscles screaming for relaxation. She rode all the way down to the scenic South Street Seaport area where she slowed, located a bench, hopped off her bike and sat down. She pulled off her helmet, wiped her sweating forehead and looked out over the rippling waters of the East River. The rhythmic motion helped lull her tortured mind. She loved the water and thought about… What had she been thinking—that she would love to take Solace out on her motor boat this summer. Right! She had broken it off with Solace so abruptly. It had only been two weeks and yet it felt like a lifetime.  If Sam were here, he probably would have told her that her actions had been nuts. He had, on several occasions, sounded her out about seeing Matilda. She had not been able to convince him that it was the best and that Matilda would probably make a more suitable mother for their children. Sam was a Solace fan and made no secret of this fact. 

“The world is coming to an end!” a shrill, female voice interrupted Rosanna’s thoughts. She looked up to see a woman wearing several layers of clothes and pushing a shopping cart, coming toward her. “Save yourselves and your children!” she yelled. “The war has begun and there’s nowhere to run!” 

Rosanna grabbed the seat of her bike in the event that she would have to make an unplanned rapid retreat. 

“Are you ready, young woman?” This statement seemed odd as the woman did not seem much older than thirty years herself. She waited expectantly for Rosanna’s reply.

Ordinarily, Rosanna did not speak to the many homeless New Yorkers who crossed her path. She gave a monthly donation to an organization which fed, clothed and offered counseling, but that was the extent of her contact. She believed that communicating with them was not wise as she might inadvertently say something that might provoke them into violence and she did not want to deal with a confrontational situation. But she was in a strange mood and she asked, “Is anybody ready? What is going to be is going to be. How can we be ready for anything?” She looked at the woman, not knowing whether she would receive an answer or not but slightly intrigued to hear what she might have to say.

The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. She seemed taken aback that someone had actually answered her. She had been shouting this warning for several years. She had received very few responses but many furtive glances before they scurried away. She looked into Rosanna’s eyes as she said, “You are troubled.” 

“Aren’t we all?” Rosanna mumbled without thinking.

“You are torn between two paths,” she continued, ignoring Rosanna’s quiet query. “You turn away from love that is right there in front of you. You are the blind one. You need solace.” She finished, turned her shopping cart around and shambled off down the waterfront.

Rosanna sat stunned and speechless. How could she know? That was a lucky guess. She doesn’t even know me. She felt a shiver crawl up her spine and her stomach lurched. How eerie! What she had said was that I need solace. She meant comfort. Didn’t she? Well, she’s right. I do need solace, but not… She interrupted that thought. Well, she might not be able to make up her mind about the women in her life, but she did know one thing—she was starved. She reached in her fanny pack for her cell phone and pressed the speed dial number for her mother. Carla picked up on the third ring.

“Rosanna?” Carla could see Rosanna’s name on her caller ID.

“Ma, can I come over for dinner?” asked Rosanna praying that her mother was not going to a show or something.

“Sure, if you don’t mind leftovers. I made some arroz con pollo yesterday. I think it’s still good.” Carla answered. Her culinary skills were not up to her mother’s but she and Rosita had not starved.

“Great. I’ll see you in about an hour.” Rosanna exclaimed.

“An hour? Where are you?” Carla asked in surprise because she knew Rosanna was only a short bus ride away.

“I’m down at the Seaport. I rode my bike down here.” Rosanna replied, shouting a bit as a large boat passed, its loud horn sounding in short blasts.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Rosita. Well, be careful!” Carla yelled back.

“I will, mamma. Bye.” Rosanna ended the call and hopped onto her bike. As she began to pedal, her right knee began to throb. Deciding that it would not be wise to push it, she rode to the nearest subway station, went down the stairs and jumped on a train headed north. As she stood in the subway car, one hand holding on to her bike the other a pole, the train suddenly lurched to a stop and the lights went out. Rosanna huffed her impatience. I thought these trains were new. Why are they having troubles? The conductor made an announcement that the train would be running as soon as they had the all-clear from the dispatcher. In the meantime, passengers were advised to hold tight to their belongings and try to stay calm.

All around Rosanna, people were muttering to themselves and talking to total strangers about the awful service and the escalating prices. Rosanna felt beads of perspiration form on her hair line and upper lip because without lights, there was, of course, no air conditioner. Even though it was spring, the cars could become extremely stuffy. She wiped her forehead and reached into her bag for the water which she always carried. She also had one of those awful nutritional candy bars. She was not crazy about the taste, but she kept her bag stocked with them for energy. She could barely see two feet in front of her and the lights in the tunnel only cast a dim glow.

As she lifted the bottle of water to her lips, she felt a hand tugging at the handlebars of her bicycle. She dropped the water bottle and began a tug of war with the unseen would-be thief. As they were quite near her, she could smell the alcohol on their breath. Rosanna could not see whether it was a man or a woman, but they were doing their damndest to wrench her bicycle from her hands. She had what she thought was a brilliant idea. She let go of the bike, located the fingers of the individual with the vice-like grip, and bent one back to the knuckle. She heard the satisfying crack of bone as a piercing feminine shriek tore from the assailant’s throat. Other passengers screamed in fright, unaware of what was taking place right near them.

“Fucking Bitch! Shit!” came the loud, angry reply from the injured party. The hold on Rosanna’s bike was released and was followed by a punch to her face, which left her with a split lip and bleeding nose. With that she pushed passed Rosanna and into another subway car.

All this occurred in the near pitch blackness. Ironically, as Rosanna reached up to assess the damages to her battered face, the lights came on, the train started moving and the passengers nearest her gasped at the sight of Rosanna’s bloodied lip and nose. She reached into her bag, pulled out a bandana and began to dab at her wounds, wincing at the sharp pain. This task she performed with one hand, never letting go of the handlebars of her bike. By this time her hands were shaking and it was difficult keeping her grip.

“Do you need to go to the emergency room? I’ll take you,” came the voice of a young man. As he moved closer, their eyes met and there was a moment of recognition.

“Rosanna, right?” Leander Collins asked.

“Leander, right?” Rosanna inquired through her handkerchief.

“Right. What happened?” he looked horrified.

“Can I tell you that a little later? I have to get to my mom’s. She’s expecting me for dinner.” Rosanna said as she dabbed at her battered face.

“Sure. I’ll get you there,” Leander offered and Rosanna did not refuse. She was exhausted, hungry, bleeding and her knee was throbbing like hell. Having someone take care of her sounded like just what the doctor ordered. Oh, lord, and speaking of doctors, her mother would have a heart attack when she saw her. 

“Where does your mom live?” Leander inquired as the doors opened at 77th street.

“On 86th street and Park,” Rosanna answered. What a coincidence that Casey’s friend was on the same train. Well, something good had to happen for a change, but then she said, “I don’t want to take you out of your way.” 

“You’re not. Don’t worry about it. Casey would kill me anyway if I couldn’t report that I had helped her friend.” His smile was cute and boyish, his brown eyes twinkling behind his glasses. 

“Well, thank you, Leander.” Rosanna said as the train came to a halt at their stop and passengers flew out of the car. Leander grabbed the handlebars of Rosanna’s bike. For a second, she had a moment of panic, but realized that her fear was unfounded. This was not a foe; he might be a potential friend. She relaxed and limped slowly up the stairs and out of the station with him. Once outside she held on to the seat of her bike for support, fearing that her leg would no longer carry her wait. Someday she would bite the bullet and have the operation recommended by her mother and constantly harped upon by Solace.. 

When they arrived at her mother’s apartment house, they rode up in the elevator in silence. They stopped in front of a door marked 223. Rosanna had not thought to bring her key, so she knocked with one hand, keeping the bandana plastered firmly to her nose and lip.

“Rosita?” called her mother. “Why didn’t you use your—“ Carla opened the door, saw her daughter and screamed. “What happened, Rosita? Come in.” She ushered Rosanna through the door, almost slamming it in Leander’s face, but he caught it and struggled in with Rosanna’s bicycle. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you,” Carla said as she guided her daughter to the couch and sat her down.

“That’s all right. I’m Leander. I just walked Rosanna here because I don’t think she’s in any shape to steer a bike.” He leaned the sleek racing bike against a nearby wall and stood there watching Rosanna’s mother fuss over her. 

Carla ran to the bathroom, returned with a washcloth and a bottle of antiseptic and began cleaning the wounds. Once done, she looked at Rosanna’s face and pronounced that she did not believe Rosanna’s nose was broken, but she should see a specialist, just in case. She would make an appointment for her in the morning.

“Mama, that’s not necessary.” Rosanna protested.

“You’re telling a doctor what’s not necessary now?” Carla said, holding her daughter’s face in her hands. “Oh, Rosita, what happened?” 

Rosanna told the whole sad tale, but finished with, “At least I still have my bike.” 

“They always say you should let them have whatever they want, just in case they’re really dangerous and have intentions of killing you,” Leander offered morosely. Carla put a hand to her chest as if she would faint from just the notion of such a violent act.

“They say a lot of things. We don’t even know who they are.” Rosanna countered, feeling her hunger returning with a vengeance.

“He’s right, Rosita. Let them have what they want and you keep your life.” 

As if reading Rosanna’s mind, she rose from the couch and went to the kitchen. “By the way, I’m Carla Romero.” She put out her hand to Leander. “Thank you for your help. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I’m Leander Collins, a friend of a friend. Thank you. That sounds wonderful. I was only going home to a Hungry Man dinner anyway.” 

“No, no. You helped my Rosita. You deserve much better than that.”

“So why are you offering him dinner, mama?” Rosanna chimed in.

“Fresh girl. I taught you better manners.” Carla shot back with a smile.

“I know, but I forgot them someplace,” Rosanna answered as she lay down gingerly on the couch.

“Do you hear this, Leander?” Carla threw up her hands and made her way to the kitchen. The sounds of slamming doors, pots, pans and water running in a sink could be heard.

“Thanks again, Leander. I’ll remember to tell Casey you were a knight in shining armor,” Rosanna said from the couch, her eyes closing, her breathing becoming slow and even. 

Leander watched Rosanna as she drifted off to sleep. Even with her split lip and bruised nose, she was strikingly beautiful. He understood Casey’s attraction. Fate had definitely put her in his path—whether it was to help Casey he did not know, but he was eager to see how the scenes in this play would unfold.

“Dinner’s ready!” Carla called out.

Leander found his way to the dining area and told Rosanna’s mother that her daughter had fallen asleep. She dropped the potholders she was using and ran back to the living room. Leander followed her. Carla looked lovingly at her Rosita, kissed her on the forehead and covered her with a nearby quilt. As she leaned over to adjust the blanket around Rosanna’s sleeping form, she could hear Rosanna mumbling something. It soon became clear.

“Solace. I need Solace.” Came Rosanna’s low voice.

“I’ll call Solace in the morning, Rosita. She’ll want to come and see you,” Carla reassured her daughter.

“Solace?” Leander repeated softly. Casey would not be happy to hear about this turn of events.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 14



2003: Solace let the phone ring at least four times before she answered it. For two weeks she had picked up the offending instrument on the first ring had been crestfallen each time. It was not that she didn't have the desire to hear from her family and friends, she simply desperately longed to hear Rosanna's low, smooth tones. She attributed her physical symptoms of lethargy, insomnia, and lack of appetite to the breakup. She cried more tears than she thought humanly possible, Bizarrey the Cat being an unwilling recipient, jumping off her lap when she thought she was in danger of drowning. 

Jessie and Mira had proven to be her saviors. They had called on a regular basis and had come over to cook for her, which was amazing, as Solace had been the designated chef for several years. Solace smiled when she thought about Mira's tuna noodle casserole. Her sister had over-salted the dish and they had spent the rest of the evening drinking glass after glass of water. Still, Solace appreciated the gesture, but she pitied Mira's fiancé. Unfortunately, the salty casserole had reminded Solace of the many tears she had shed, a lump forming in her throat. Mira did her best to comfort her sister. Finally, Solace had decided that it was Rosanna's loss and her torpor turned to almost rabid determination to move on. She would not pine for someone who had dumped her before investigating all the options, no matter how much she loved and missed her. I am not inferior and I am no damned doormat became her mantra.

"Solace?" came the familiar voice over the line. It was Carla. Immediately, Solace became alarmed and her stomach clenched. 

"Carla?" Solace asked shakily.

"Rosanna's been hurt," came Carla's subdued tone.

"Has she been in an accident? Is she in the hospital? Where is she? Oh God! Is she all right?" Solace's voice rose with each question despite her new-found anger, which had replaced the shock, dismay and inertia produced by Rosanna's abrupt exit from her life.

"Hold on, Sol." Carla interrupted. "Rosita's just a little bruised. And, no, she was not in a car accident or anything like that. Some hood tried to steal her bike—a woman no less. Can you believe that? Rosita only sustained a split lip and bloody nose. Thank God. I told her to see a specialist to make sure there was no permanent damage to her beautiful nose. Oh, Solace!" Carla finished with a sigh.

Solace breathed her own deep sigh of relief and slumped into her cushion. She let out a breath that she was unaware she had been holding. It had only been two short weeks. She had loved Rosanna for five years. She could not get over her in such a short time. 

"Solace?" Carla called her, bringing Solace back to the moment.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Carla. Were you saying something?" Solace could feel the tears she had tried to hold back begin to slide down her cheeks. 

"I was just saying that you should come over. I know that would help speed her recovery." Carla said with a smile in her voice.

Solace felt herself begin to tremble. How would she respond to Carla's innocent statement?

"I…I…can't." Solace finally said simply.

"Oh, are you going out? I'm sorry. Maybe you can come over tomorrow?" Carla asked hopefully.

"I can't come over at all, Carla. Ro…Rosanna and I aren't speaking with each other. We aren't seeing each other anymore " Solace said softly, barely able to vocalize the words.

"What? Why?" Carla gasped. "No. That's between you and Rosita, but—" she sat heavily on her couch. Rosanna had awakened, showered and gone to bed in her old room. How could this be? Rosita loves Solace. How could they break up, after what, five years? Carla had been certain that they were going to make her, Isolinda and Ace grandparents. Her motherly nosiness was coming to the fore and she knew she would have to ask Rosita. She did not know if she would have any success in this department as Rosita hadn't even told her about the breakup. And Solace was clearly not taking this well at all. 

"How are you, Solace?" Carla asked, concern evident in her voice.

"I'm surviving, Carla," came Solace's somber reply. She would not incriminate Rosanna. If Carla were to hear the truth, it would have to come from her daughter. "Please tell Rosanna that I hope she feels better soon. Thanks for calling me," Solace put down the phone before she heard Carla's goodbye. She could not trust herself not to break down and ask to speak with Rosanna. She would not risk the rejection. Her mantra rang in her head like a church bell, but the one person she had held sacred had betrayed her.

In doing her laundry, Solace came across her dance outfit. She held it up to her lovingly. The black tights and leotard fit her as if she'd been born in them and she felt completely unencumbered while wearing them. In the past five years she had been involved with Rosanna to the extent that she had neglected her beloved activity. Solace recalled the sense of absolute abandon she felt as the rhythm pumped and her body swayed, dipped and turned, almost of its own volition. She inevitably ended the session covered in perspiration or "the glow" as her instructor, Ardena, called it. Rosanna had entered her life and dance had not seemed as important as being with her. Why she had not told Rosanna of this passion she could not say then, but she understood now that she had been embarrassed and then it had not seemed to matter. Solace had also realized that dance could be highly erotic and Rosanna certainly did not need further assistance in that area. Once Solace finally succumbed to the demands of her body and Rosanna's, she practically had to beat Rosanna over the head with her cane to stop. Solace had simply uttered four words: "I want you, Sanna". Their lovemaking had taken Solace to unbelievable heights of pleasure and Rosanna's passions seemed almost inexhaustible. Solace's dance class had been on Saturday mornings, but ultimately she found herself in such a languor that she did not possess the energy to twirl around the hardwood dance floor.

It was three months since she had seen or spoken to Rosanna and seeing her dance gear made her realize that she needed to get back to doing something which she loved which did not involve Rosanna. With nervous fingers, she dialed the number of the studio, asking for Ardena Miles. When her instructor picked up the phone, Solace felt as though her heart would burst from happiness because the notion that Ardena had either left the studio or been let go had crossed her mind. 

"Girl, where have you been?" came Ardena's exuberant voice as she wiped her face with a towel. 

"Gone too long," came Solace's bright reply. 

"Are you calling me for a date or is this business?" Ardena asked, laughter evident in her tones.

"Ardena, please! You know Mathew would have my head." Solace said with mock seriousness.

"He doesn't have to know." Ardena said. 

This was a running joke they shared with glee. Ardena believing that she was loved, worshipped and lusted after by both genders as she had an enviable figure that frequently garnered tongues to unashamedly droop and temperatures to rise. 

Solace found Ardena to be the rare sighted person indeed because she treated her just as any other dancer. Even though Solace felt perfectly comfortable in her skin and being, she often felt people's eyes upon her as she went about her daily, mundane tasks. It could be quite unnerving and she had to steal herself not to blurt out a hasty retort. She did not believe this to be paranoia on her part, but curiosity and rudeness on theirs. Early in their relationship, she had felt it with Rosanna, but Solace had trained that out of her in their first year together. She thought she might have achieved a modicum of success.

"I want to come back to the studio. Is there an opening at all?" Solace asked hopefully. 

"Hmmm. I think I might be able to squeeze you in. What kind of shape are we talking here Solace—Freda Flab or Bertha Buns of Steal? Ardena laughed at her own joke.

"Well, I might not be Bertha B., but I haven't had to sign up for Weight Watchers yet either," Solace said, proud that she had at least danced around her living room and kept up her walking routine to keep down the pounds. 

"When do you want to start?" Ardena asked, checking her watch as she had a class in a few minutes.

"Well, can I come by on Saturday?" Solace asked.

"Sure. But come early, okay? I'll be here by ten o'clock so we can go over the routine. Gotta go, Babe!" She blew Solace a kiss and hung up the phone before she could protest. 

Solace put down her phone and smiled. Ardena hadn't changed. She had always worked with Solace early so that she could keep up with the other dancers. They had been working together for years and Solace knew many of the moves, but she thought she might learn some new steps, and she was glad Ardena could see her before the other dancers arrived.

Saturday dawned bright and warma perfect summer morning. Solace awakened with a sense of anticipation she had not felt in years. She showered, dressed and breakfasted, and flung her dance gear in a bright blue duffle bag with a rainbow stripe. She grabbed her cane and flew out the door, hair flying in all directions, practically obscuring what vision she had.

Solace arrived at the Make Your Moves Dance Studio at nine thirty. She got a key for a locker from Franz. He gave her a huge welcoming hug and spun her in the direction of the lockers down the hall. 

"Who was that?" came a woman's low, husky voice. She had been standing behind Solace throughout a portion of the exuberant exchange. She stared after her. 

"Oh, that is our returning, prodigal daughter. Seems she will be gracing us with her presence once again," came Franz's airy reply, his eyes twinkling. 

"Does she have a name, Franz?" inquired the woman impatiently, her short dark mane shining under the lights, her face a study in determination. 

"Well, now that's for you to find out, isn't it?" Franz smirked and turned to hand another patron a locker key. L. D. gave him an uncomfortable feeling and he tried to have as little conversation with her as possible. He did not see her answering glare. 

L. D. Jansen stood five feet seven inches tall with a slim, athletic build. She had jet-black hair, which she brushed away from her pale face. This gave her features a sharp edge. When she chose to wear makeup, she looked quite dramatic. She could also look quite menacing as she favored black clothing as well. Today she wore her signature color topped off with a black jacket of soft leather. 

L. D. had been coming to the studio for nine months. She found learning the new steps and dancing with the other women to be exhilarating, and she thrilled (as did many of her partners) to her strong leads and to her confident lifting of their supple bodies, twirling them with ease. 

As she entered the locker room, she did not see the petite, auburn haired dynamo. She changed quickly into her soft black pants and black tank top. She donned a pair of leather dance shoes, locked up her belongings and went to the dance studio. She stopped in the door, her breath caught in her throat, as she spotted Solace working out with Ardena. Solace was graceful and powerful and L. D. was mesmerized. She thought back on the white cane she had seen and marveled at Solace's seemingly effortless movements around the dance floor. L. D.'s mouth watered and her heart-rate sped up. She would have to calm down or she would be worn out before class started. She wanted this one and she wanted her bad! And she would have her--eventually. She entered the room and sat watching.

"Hi L. D.," called Ardena. 

"Hi Dena." 

Other dancers came in and warmed up at the dance bar or around the corners of the large room. They were a motley crew of women in all shapes and colors. Ardena called them together for a group stretch. Cracking bones and groans could be heard throughout the room. L. D. stood in the back row where she could watch Solace as she stretched and readied her body for Ardena's rigorous workout. 

Casey came flying into the dance room and collided with L. D. who turned to see who had broken her concentration. 

"I'm sorry, L. D." Casey said breathlessly as she took a place next to her. "Traffic was shitty and I took a cab to get here on time and I'm still late." Casey whispered as she huffed through her quick warm up. 

"Good morning, Casey," Ardena said with a nod. "Nice to see you. May we start now?" Ardena was a stickler about punctuality and she would soon lock the door on late-comers who dared show up during the instructional period. She saw no point in a person dancing when they had not properly warmed up. Most adhered to this rule and those who could not found instructors who were more lenient. 

"Sorry, Ardena," Casey said, her face reddening. 

Once the warm-up was complete, Ardena had the women break into pairs. Casey turned towards L. D. expectantly, who tried to hide her disappointment at not being paired with the new woman. There was no doubt that Casey was a beautiful woman and she was aware that Casey was attracted to her, but L. D. was the hunter, not the hunted. In spite of this minor annoyance, L. D. performed the new dance moves with Casey with style, grace and admirable technique until L. D. glanced in Solace's direction, missed a move and stepped on Casey's foot. 

"Ouch!" yelped Casey, even though L. D's. soft shoes had precluded any real damage to her toes. "Guess that's for bumping into you, eh?" L. D. smiled and led Casey to a corner.

"I'm sorry, Casey," she said quietly, seething inwardly at the laughter and her lack of attention to what she thought of as her craft. She might have to teach Casey a lesson.

All of the visuals were lost on Solace as she could not see from her perch on a stool across the room, but she heard everything and only smiled briefly. She was concentrating on her own performance.

"Solace, are you ready?" Ardena called to her. Solace snapped to attention, jumped off the stool and strode to the middle of the floor.

"L. D.? I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself with Solace," Ardena said, tapping her dance stick sharply. "Solace, this is L. D., L. D., this is Solace. Let's see how this goes." L. D. stood in front of Solace, her heart beating wildly. She took Solace's hand and they began. When they finished, spontaneous applause erupted from the other dancers. Solace and L. D. had glided together in synchronous harmony as if they had been made for the dance. When they finished, L. D. made a courtly bow before Solace and she in turn executed her maidenly curtsy. 

"You dance beautifully." L. D. breathed, genuinely impressed with Solace's ability.

"Thank you. L. D.? Solace looked up and smiled at the taller woman. She hoped she would have the opportunity to dance with her again as she had very few partners who had made it so easy for her to follow their lead.

"Solace is a unique name," L. D. said as she escorted Solace back to her seat on the stool.

"It's a combination of my parents' names. They certainly think it's great. I sometimes wonder." Solace replied.

When the class ended, Solace dashed out of the room and into the locker room. There she showered quickly, put on her street clothes and raced out of the studio, waving a quick goodbye to Franz. It had been an excellent morning and she was due to meet with Jessie for a late lunch. Solace had no idea that she had been in the room with Rosanna's would-be lover and someone who was extremely upset that she had missed her. L. D. had been detained by several women who desired her attention. Ever the charmer, she had tried as diplomatically as she could to fend off their overt advances. As she entered the locker room, she caught a glimpse of auburn hair as Solace left the room. Fists clenched, L. D. showered, changed and left the studio as fast as she could. Out on the street, she looked up and down, but saw no sign of Solace. She would make a more concerted effort next week. Solace would not get away so easily.

Casey had watched L. D. and Solace dance with slight envy. She had also been standing in the doorway as L. D. searched for Solace. She had been salivating over L. D. for months, but the woman had not shown much interest aside from being an attentive dance partner. Casey also thought about this new Solace. She was indeed a live-wire and she wouldn't mind taking a tumble with her as well. At the moment, neither prospect seemed promising, but she would wait until a suitable opening. She licked her lips in anticipation. It did not hit her until she got home why the name Solace had sounded so familiar to her. Where had she heard that name before? She would call Leander; maybe he would jog her memory. That was it! He had mentioned the name Solace in connection with—Rosanna. Life was indeed full of coincidences.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 15



1999: Rosanna was certain that she had thought of the perfect gift for Solace. The only challenge would be finding such a specialized item. She had accompanied Solace to a meeting of an advocacy group for the blind and had seen the device. She had been so preoccupied gawking at it that she hadn't thought to get the information on where it was manufactured. Thankfully, she had overheard the owner discussing the merits and at least she knew the name. 

Now, one month before Christmas, Rosanna searched the Internet, located the item, but it was in California and she feared that it might not reach New York City in time for the holidays. But what was she thinking? She had a month and surely it would arrive long before the appointed time. She placed the order online and grinned to herself, pleased at her accomplishment. She was a decisive woman when it came to shopping. She loathed waiting until the last minute to do anything—especially buying gifts for the special people in her life. 

Rosanna felt that if you cared for someone, you bought their gifts early. Colleagues could wait. It was imperative that Solace be able to open the present on Christmas evening as they planned to be with their respective families during the day. Secretly, Rosanna hoped she would be pleased and show her gratitude in a special way. They had done little more than heavy petting, which left Rosanna longing for more intimate contact. She hungered for Solace in a way she did not believe possible. She became slightly flushed as she thought of the erotic turn their relationship could take. Rosanna made a feeble attempt to bring herself back to a semblance of professional decorum. She was not having much success. She resisted the urge to e-mail Solace as she had already sent many messages that day to which Solace had replied on her break. 

Rosanna sat in her custom-made leather chair, given to her by her mother. She stared blankly at her computer monitor, toying with the mouse. She ignored the stack of invoices, phone calls and e-mails that awaited her. She was in no mood to deal with the business of Getting Started With, her beloved computer training company. Had her employees been able to sneak a peak at their boss, they would have been shocked to see her loafing off. She was single-minded about the success and growth of GSW. She did not ask for dedication from her team without asking it of herself. Rosanna attributed her mood to her holiday spirit. She could barely put into words what Solace had become to her. 

She was in deep thought and was unaware that she had begun humming a piece the ensemble was rehearsing for their holiday extravaganza. The music had been commissioned especially for the Upper Manhattan Women's Ensemble; and was an ethereally beautiful winter's solstice chorale. Solstice reminded her of Solace. Rosanna found that so many activities reminded her of Solace. Deciding that leaving early would not set a good example, even though she could say she had an important meeting, she settled on reveling in a recent memory, which provided her a huge chuckle. Rosanna rose, crossed her office, hung the "Gone Fishin'" sign on the outer doorknob. This was the signal that she should not be disturbed and the person who did better be interrupting to tell her that the building was on fire or some other such emergency. She removed her blazer and hung it on a hanger in her closet. She then stretched out on her couch and closed her eyes. Rosanna's thoughts drifted back a week when she and Solace had taken their first, and possibly last, trek to the Rockefeller Center skating rink. She laughed aloud.

The day was cold, crisp and blindingly sunny. Rosanna and Solace had just returned from the My Kind of Music CD boutique. They had each purchased a copy of a new artist who specialized in Mozart piano sonatas. The plan was that they would make some popcorn and curl up in front of the CD player in Solace's apartment where it was warm and snuggle friendly. The conversation had turned away from Mozart and onto winter activities that they found exhilarating. Solace had admitted a passion for sledding in Central Park and Rosanna tried to keep the shock out of her voice when she asked if that was something she did alone or with a friend. Solace assured her that she and Jessie always went together. Rosanna let out a silent breath. She knew that Solace was a capable woman, but she still felt an twinge of concern when Solace divulged one of her more risky undertakings. She told Solace that she loved to go ice skating whenever she could. She was standing by the window and while they discussed the prospect of Solace's participation, she looked out and pronounced that it was an excellent day for the sport.

"Come on, Sol," Rosanna pleaded. "It'll be fun." Rosanna turned and looked at Solace, who was standing, arms crossed, shaking her head back and forth. 

"You just wanna see me fall on my ass," Solace smirked.

"Although your ass is really cute, my imagination does not run to that particular use of such a fine body part," Rosanna countered.

"You're hopeless, Sanna. What do you think my cane is, a makeshift ski-pole? Blind people weren't meant to ice skate. Swimming, biking, hiking, skiing maybe, but not traveling out of control on frozen water," she finished.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sol. I'll be holding on to you all the time. I'm a great skater. Trust me." Rosanna crossed to Solace and unfolded Solace's arms.

"Oh? And what medals do you have attesting to your prowess in this sport, Ms. Romero?" Solace asked, waiting for Rosanna's reply.

"I don't have any, but—" Rosanna began.

"Exactly!" Solace boomed, dropping her arms to her side. "I need the skill of Michelle Kwan out there holding on to me with an iron grip, not one of the nuts piling out of those clown cars, stumbling all over the ice." Solace looked at Rosanna and they both laughed--Solace at her own wit and Rosanna envisioning the hilarious scene. 

"I'm stung, Sol. Do you think I would allow anything to happen to you?" Rosanna pouted, her lips extended in an exaggerated fashion so that even Solace could not miss the gesture. Solace grabbed Rosanna's puckered lips and twisted gently.

"You are a clown, Sanna," she said, replacing her fingers with her own lips. Rosanna enfolded her in an embrace, deepening the kiss. Realizing where Rosanna wanted to go, Solace pushed lightly on her chest. Perhaps skating was a good idea after all. Rosanna groaned softly, her breathing ragged.

"Okay, Sanna. Let's go. But you better keep your promise," Solace said as she disengaged herself from Rosanna, her own breathing shallow. "I'm only doing this for you. Well, maybe a little for me, too." Solace smiled. 

"Great, Sol. You'll love it! You'll get such a rush. You can wear something with padding," Rosanna said, smoothly dodging the blow aimed at her arm.

"I'm only doing this because I trust you, Rosanna Romero. I had better come home in one piece, Missy." Solace turned away from Rosanna and headed for her bedroom. She intended to take Rosanna up on her suggestion of wearing padding and decided to put on a second pair of wool pants. She did not care how bulky she looked. Thank God the temperature was only in the low twenties. 

They left Solace's apartment and took the bus down to Rockefeller Plaza. They rented skates and made their way to the changing area.

There was a sizeable crowd as the famous Rockefeller Christmas Tree was up, in all its lighted splendor, standing eighty-five feet off the ground. Rosanna and Solace stopped to admire the awesome sight before taking to the crowded rink.

Experienced skaters whizzed round and round, darting in and out of slower, more cautious individuals and couples. Before they entered the rink proper, Rosanna turned to Solace.

"Now, Sol," Rosanna began in a serious tone, "Don't let go of me for anything, okay?" Solace, who was having difficulty just standing in the skating shoes could not believe that Rosanna would think for one minute that she would be such a fool.

"Sanna, do you think I have lost all of my faculties? They are going to have to throw cold water on us to separate us." For emphasis, Solace took Rosanna's arm in hers and plastered her side against the woman. 

As they walked gingerly onto the ice, Solace said, "Now, don't go too fast okay, Sanna?"

"I won't, Sol. Don't worry." Rosanna answered, trying to instill confidence into Solace. She could actually feel Solace trembling slightly. "Just pretend you're walking. Slowly."

They made their first lap around the rink like a little elderly couple out for a Sunday stroll. 

Much to Solace's surprise, she found herself thrilling to the smooth glide which they had established and loosened her death grip on Rosanna, who immediately firmed up her own grip. They had gone around several times and with each revolution, Solace found that she felt more comfortable and confident. She told Rosanna that she thought she might be getting her "ice legs". She bravely proclaimed to Rosanna that she thought she might be able to just hold Rosanna's hand, and maybe their skating would go a little smoother. At first, Rosanna had responded with a firm no, but Solace persisted. With resignation and trepidation, Rosanna gave into Solace's pleas. 

"It'll be much better. I think I have the hang of this," Solace assured her.

"It's the "I think" part that I'm worried about," replied Rosanna as she took Solace's hand firmly in her own. They began gliding again and, to both their delight, were doing quite well and had established a smooth rhythm. The frigid air stung their cheeks and urged them onward. Rosanna looked up briefly to see the crowds lining the rail staring down at the skaters. It was at that moment that she felt a solid bump. Solace's hand slid from hers and Rosanna watched in horror as Solace went, arms flailing away, her body swooping and bending. Rosanna skated after her. In the brief time that it took for Rosanna and Solace to become disengaged from each other, what seemed like hordes of skaters moved in front of Rosanna, practically obscuring her view. It seemed that no one was aware that a novice skater was on the rink in distress—let alone that she was blind. Rosanna weaved in and out of the skaters, knocking some out of her way.

Solace felt the shove from behind and in the next instant she was hurtling around the rink on a solo skate. She was grateful for her dance training, which had strengthened her ankles. She was also thankful for the padding in case she fell on her butt. She tried to slow herself down, but she was being buffeted along by a fast-paced bunch of daredevils. She let out a shriek. She would get that Rosanna. 

"Sanna!" she screeched. "Help!" Solace was being jostled left and right and was on her way to making her third rotation when she spotted what looked like the opening to the rink and decided to head for it. With arms pin wheeling and legs scissoring she aimed herself at the opening. She landed with a bang and a whoosh on a table, toppling over the place settings and glasses. She struggled off the table's surface and sat in a nearby chair, breathing heavily. She grabbed a napkin and wiped the perspiration from her face. She looked up and saw Rosanna rushing toward her. They both could hear peals of laughter coming from the crowds above and below. Both women turned crimson.

"Sol, I—" Rosanna began, but Solace interrupted.

"I think I have had enough skating for one day, thank you, Sanna." Rosanna took Solace by the arm and eased her up. She heard Solace wince in pain as she stood and she flinched in sympathy. 

They returned their skates to the rental office and made their way home. Solace forced Rosanna to walk at a snail's pace; she clamed to have a sharp pain in her ankle. Rosanna suggested that Solace see a specialist to be sure that it was not sprained. To this, Solace merely nodded in a non-committal way. 

When they arrived at Solace's apartment, Solace slumped against Rosanna in apparent fatigue. Rosanna picked her up and carried her across the threshold. Solace then proceeded to request everything under the sun. She asked for her favorite drink—a rum and ginger ale (Rosanna had to run to the corner for the ginger ale), a pillow for her back (which was already ensconced on a cushion), her favorite CD (Rosanna put on the Mozart sonatas), a foot massage (which Solace stopped once she realized that Rosanna was making wider circles up her thigh), and a sandwich. It seemed to Rosanna that she had barely fulfilled one request when Solace asked for the next. 

Finally, Solace asked to be carried into her bedroom. She knew this might be pushing it, but Rosanna complied sweetly. Rosanna placed Solace gently on the coverlet and turned towards Solace's drawers to get a nightgown. Solace took the opportunity to reach behind her and snatch a huge pillow. She crept off the bed, moved to Rosanna and pummeled her with it. Rosanna let out a shriek of surprise, she turned whereupon she was hit over the head. They both began laughing hysterically. Solace dropped the pillow and fell back on the bed where Rosanna joined her, still giggling.

"No more skating." Solace pronounced.

"Come on, Sol. You were just getting good at it," Rosanna countered. 

"Well…" Solace said in a softening tone. "I did have a great time until I felt someone push me. But I could have killed myself," she said indignantly. "And where were you, Sir Galahad?"

Rosanna could not argue with her, so she reached out, placed her hand on Solace's hip and pulled her towards her. "I can make you feel better," she said suggestively and before Solace could protest, she placed her lips on hers and kissed her softly, reveling in the feel of Solace's deliciously soft and inviting mouth. 

Her resistance weakening, Solace gave into Rosanna's insistent tongue and melted. The rest of the afternoon was spent in the pursuit of more intimate matters.

Rosanna came out of her reverie with a start as she heard the insistent buzzing of her telephone. She reluctantly left the couch, saw that it was an outside line and picked it up. It was her friend, Sam asking her if she wanted to have dinner. She told him that would be great. They made plans to meet at their favorite haunt—a restaurant in the Village. 

Rosanna turned to the pile of work she had neglected and methodically went through each message. She had enjoyed her brief reminiscence but it was time to get back to work—and she only had an hour to go before she could decently leave. 

Solace gazed lovingly at her gift for Rosanna. She was so excited, she could hardly wait for her to open it. She owed Jessie major for this one and would probably spend the rest of her life trying to repay her kindness. But it had been worth everything . The fact that she had completed the project before Christmas made Solace dance around the room with glee. Granted, there were only two days until her favorite holiday, but that was even greater cause for celebration. She had thanked Jessie until her friend had threatened to tape her mouth closed. 

Solace had also made a decision, one which she hoped she would not regret. For six months, she and Rosanna had shared intimacies that had taken her to the very brink. Solace would end Rosanna's advances before she took her to the place where Solace could not be stopped. It had been extremely frustrating for both women. Solace had been afraid to give herself completely as she feared Rosanna would love her and leave her. She was in a constant war with her body's natural urges. Rosanna had proven in the two years that they had been together that she truly cared for Solace. She had demonstrated in enumerable ways that she found Solace sexy and desirable. She realized that she was tired of fighting Rosanna's efforts. She wanted and needed her, and she thought it was now the time for them to seal their love. Love? Rosanna had never said that she loved Solace, but Solace felt she knew that she did. 

Rosanna appeared in Solace's doorway on Christmas evening bearing a long box and a smaller one, which she placed under Solace's small Christmas tree; Solace called it her Charlie Brown tree. Rosanna noticed that Solace wore a dress of deep red which showed off her lovely cleavage and enhanced the brilliant auburn of her hair. She also noticed that Solace wore a new fragrance, which caused Rosanna's senses to hum with excitement. She was loathe to release her from their embrace of greeting. Rosanna herself wore a red cashmere sweater with black slacks and had dabbed on her signature scent.

"Mmm. You always smell so good, Sanna," Solace moaned as she breathed.

"You, too, Sol. Is that a new fragrance?" Rosanna asked.

"Yes. It's a present from Mira and I love it. It's light and dissipates in a reasonable amount of time. Now," she said suddenly. "Open your present." 

Solace turned Rosanna towards the tree and pointed to a small box. Rosanna leaned over and picked it up. She also retrieved her own small box.

"Let's open them together," she said, handing the box to Solace who snatched it like a little kid and ripped off the ribbon. Once open, she stared down at the delicate necklace with the diamond on the end.

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked in astonishment.

"Well, that depends on what you think it is," said Rosanna teasingly.

"I think it's a diamond, but I've never gotten one, so I'm not sure," said Solace, her voice a whisper. 

"Well, then this is your first." Replied Rosanna, smiling broadly. 

Solace flung her arms around Rosanna and kissed her on her eyes, her cheeks and finally her lips. "Thank you so much, Sanna. It's beautiful. I can't wait to wear it. Now open yours." 

Rosanna tore off the ribbon and paper and the cover of the box. Inside, she saw Solace's face on a CD entitle "The Rose Collection: Songs of Love for Us. She stared in disbelief. 

Solace chimed in, "I wrote some poems and Jessie set them to music. We booked some studio time and recorded them. I hope you like them," Solace said, finishing in a shy, small voice.

"Oh my god, Solace. This is beyond anything I've ever received. That was so incredibly thoughtful of you. I—" Rosanna stopped abruptly and pulled Solace to her for a kiss. Both gifts were squashed between their bodies. "I have one more thing for you, Sol." Rosanna released Solace, placed the CD carefully on a nearby table, and retrieved the large box. Solace took it and looked at her questioningly. Rosanna steered her towards a cushion, sat her down and watched while Solace opened the present. When she pulled out the laser cane, she looked up, tears forming in her eyes. 

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked in a choked voice.

"I don't know. Do you know what it is?" Rosanna said again in her maddeningly teasing tone.

"I haven't seen too many, but I think it's a laser cane. How did you find this?" Solace breathed, utter amazement evident on her face.

"Ah, but that would be giving away all my secrets. I have to keep some things to myself." Rosanna sat down next to Solace and ran a finger along the surface of the cane. "There are taped instructions inside." 

"I don't know what to say. This must have cost a fortune." Solace said as she, too, investigated the mobility device.

"Shh. No talking about money on Christmas; it's bad luck," Rosanna said in a mock serious tone. 

"All right. All I'll do is this." Solace placed the box containing the cane on the floor. She sat up, pulled Rosanna towards her and placed her lips on hers. As the kiss deepened, Rosanna suddenly left Solace's mouth. She drew back as if to get up, but Solace placed a hand on her arm, pulling her gently towards her.

Solace said, "I want you, Sanna." It took a beat for Rosanna to process what Solace had said, but as it dawned on her, she leaned over and again claimed Solace's lips, plunging her questing tongue into Solace's warm and willing mouth. Their hands explored familiar yet unfamiliar areas. Rosanna kissed Solace's neck, eliciting shivers and moans of pleasure. She then found the top of the zipper and slowly lowered it until the elegant dress slipped down her arms, leaving Solace's torso bare. The dress had sown-in cups so that no bra was required. Rosanna stared in reverence at Solace's beautiful full breasts, her fingers and tongue aching to experience their softness. But first, she caressed Solace's firm, yet soft back, moving lower until the dress would not allow her to go further. Rosanna was becoming warm and Solace helped her out of her own sweater. Solace then leaned over and unfastened Rosanna's bra, tossing the garment to the floor. She marveled at Rosanna's smooth, dark skin.




Solace & Rosanna Ch. 15



Before Solace could make her own exploration of Rosanna's semi-nude body, Rosanna laid her gently against the cushion.

"Let me love you, Sol." Rosanna breathed. She kissed Solace again, leaving her mouth, moving to her neck, followed by a journey down her collarbone to Solace's left breast. Here she stopped briefly before cupping it in her hands and massaging it gently. Solace's breathing quickened. Rosanna then bent her head and placed the nipple in her mouth, sucking tenderly at first and then with more urgency. Solace moaned and her hips began a slow dance of their own. She tangled her fingers in Rosanna's hair and pulled her closer. 

Rosanna's tongue then made a journey to Solace's right breast to offer the same loving exploration.

Solace and Rosanna made love with an urgency until the initial fire was quenched. They made love until their bodies were finally sated and peaceful. They made love into the following morning. Rosanna could hardly believe that Solace had finally allowed her to take the next step and Solace could not believe she had waited so long to partake of such exquisite pleasures with Rosanna.

As they lay in each other's arms, exhausted but satisfied, both women sensed that the year 2000 would be a year to remember.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 16



2000: “Aren’t you ready yet, Sol?” called Rosanna impatiently from Solace’s living room. She glanced again at her watch, noting they had less than an hour to get to the rehearsal in time. They would have to take a taxi. Katrina would give them the evil eye. Rosanna could not understand why Solace found it so difficult to get herself together each time. She seemed to be organized only half the time and the other she spent in a hopeless state of confusion. Rosanna huffed in agitation. Suddenly, her nostrils were assailed by a wonderful floral fragrance. She smiled in spite of her annoyance. Solace was such a girl sometimes—wearing skirts, hose, heels, and makeup, perfume. Secretly, Rosanna found this side of Solace quite appealing and alluring. At other times, Rosanna was unable to persuade Solace to wear anything but her worn jeans, a tee-shirt and her favorite pair of multi-colored sneakers. 

“What are you doing in there?” Rosanna stormed from corner to corner, gathering up Solace’s cane, coat, music, knapsack, (she made sure that Solace’s wallet was in the front pocket of the sack where it could easily be reached). She placed the items neatly by the front door. Rosanna wondered how long it would take for Solace to locate her things. Of course, she would have to tell her if it looked like she would never put her hands on them. Rosanna would mold Solace into organization, no matter how aggravating and/or lengthy the process might be. Ironically, Solace was an absolute model of efficiency in the kitchen and woe be unto anyone who re-arranged her spices and utensils. However, this seemed to be the only evidence that she had a clue about living in an orderly fashion.

Rosanna would usher Solace out of the apartment as she emerged from the bathroom. She was halted in her efforts by a distress call. 

“Sanna! Help! My hair’s rebelling!” Solace whined. “I can’t get these damned combs to stay in. I think I’m pulling my hair out. I’m going to have bald patches.” 

“If you can’t get them in, nobody can, Sol. Now hurry up! We’re already late. We should have left at least an hour ago.” Rosanna said as she jammed an arm into the sleeve of her suit jacket. She wore a black tailor-made pantsuit with a cream-colored silk blouse and highly polished black boots. The diamond studs in her ears sparkled as they caught the light and she wore diamond cufflinks at her wrists, of course, her ensemble was made complete by her signature fragrance, Sensuale. 

“Please, Sanna! I promise. That’s all I’ll ask you to do, and I’ll be ready in two minutes.” Solace cooed, knowing this would have an effect on Rosanna who hated to see her in peril, no matter how slight.  

”Sure,” Rosanna replied, growling slightly as she straightened her buttons and marched towards Solace’s distress call. As she neared the doorway, she stopped short, her breath catching in her throat. She gazed at the vision before her. Solace stood there, positively stunning, in a dress of midnight-blue silk and black pumps, her wavy hair cascaded down her back. The dress accented Solace’s curvaceous form and Rosanna enjoyed both the view from behind as well as Solace’s beautifully made-up reflection in the mirror. Solace turned to Rosanna and thrust two ornamental combs at her. Rosanna took the combs from Solace’s trembling hands, but instead of attempting to arrange them artfully in the mass of waves, she laid them on the counter near the sink.

“Leave your hair down, Sol. You look lovely,” she said huskily, pulling Solace towards her and burying her face in her neck. She found Solace’s entire appearance intoxicating and had forgotten why she had entered the room in the first place. 

“Sanna! Stop that! We’ll be even later than we are.” Solace sighed as her pulse quickened, which might send her over the edge as she was already feeling that nervous twinge in her stomach, which she always experienced prior to performing. Rosanna’s touch inflamed her, though, no matter where they were or what they were doing. This power was both a blessing and a curse. 

“Look who’s talking,” Rosanna murmured through kisses that were becoming ever more fervent and lower on Solace’s body. She wrapped her arms around Solace’s waste and crushed her close, her hands gliding seductively over Solace’s smooth hips, the silky dress offering no friction. Rosanna moaned as her tongue neared the top of Solace’s breast. She had been driven to distraction by the sight and scent of this woman. The rehearsal might as well have been next year instead of in the next hour. She began to slide the thin straps of the dress down, but was thwarted in her efforts.

“Sanna,” Solace breathed. “We can’t. We have a rehearsal to do.” With an effort rivaling any feat undertaken by Xena, Warrior Princess, Solace extricated herself from Rosanna’s fevered embrace and kisses. She placed her hands on Rosanna’s chest, pushing her back towards the wall. “Wait till we get back, lover, okay?” Solace kissed her quickly and darted out before she could be caught up in activity neither of them could resist. Solace ran into her living room, searching frantically for her belongings. Rosanna waited for her breathing to calm and then followed. Seeing Solace fly around the room like a headless chicken, she stood there with an evil grin on her face. 

“Where is my stuff? I can’t find anything,” Solace shouted. “We really are gonna be late, Sanna. Help!” Taking pity on her near-hysterical friend and feeling a pang of guilt, Rosanna took the bewildered woman by the hand and led her to the tidy pile by the door.

“You are one evil woman, Sanna Romero. Why didn’t you just tell me my stuff was by the door?” Solace huffed.

“Sol, you need to be more organized. You’re always looking for something. If you would put your—“ Rosanna did not have a chance to finish.

“I am organized, in my own way. Who says people have to put things where you think they should put them, Sanna?” Solace’s face was turning red as she yanked on her coat and attempted to put her right arm in the left sleeve, muttering in protest. “You just think everybody should be as fastidious as you are. Well, we don’t all go that way, Ms. Romero. Some of us target our organizational efforts in other directions.”

Rosanna’s laughter bubbled up from her stomach to her throat, but she resisted the urge to let it out. Finally, she reached out, pushed down Solace’s arms, slid the coat off, stood behind Solace and waited for her to calm down. As Rosanna eased the coat over Solace’s shoulders, she kissed her on the cheek.

“Don’t patronize me, Sanna,” came Solace’s irritated reply. Rosanna threw her hands up in mock surrender. 

“All right, Sol. I’m sorry. Let’s just go.” She gave Solace her cane and knapsack, and they exited the apartment. 

Rosanna hailed a taxi. She bundled Solace inside, slammed the door, and rattled off the address to the driver. Rosanna twined her warm fingers into Solace’s frigid digits.. 

“Sol, I am sorry. I just think you might be able to find things if you—“ Solace interrupted her.

“Sanna, do I tell you how to run your business?”

“Well, no, but—“ Rosanna answered.

“Well, don’t worry about how I run my life. If you don’t want to help me find stuff, don’t. I’ll find it eventually. Why should it freak you out so much? I don’t care how neat you are. Why should it matter?” Solace finished.

Rosanna blew out an exasperated breath. “I know if shouldn’t matter, but I’m just trying to help you.” 

“You don’t have to help me, Sanna. Just be my friend, okay?” Solace gave Rosanna a quick peck on the cheek. At that moment, the cab swerved and sent Solace and Rosanna slamming into each other. 

“Hey!” Solace shrieked. “Watch out!” 

Rosanna placed a protective arm about Solace’s waist. 

“Calm down, Sol. He was just trying to avoid a biker.”

“Damn bikers. I hate them!” Solace mumbled.

“Okay,” Rosanna said in what she hoped was a soothing tone. 

Solace dropped her head onto the back of the seat. It was so warm in the cab, but her hands felt like ice cubes. She was so nervous about the performance. She had a key solo and had practiced so fervently that her fingers became numb with fatigue from going over the Braille score. She did not feel comfortable without her music. She suddenly leaned forward.

“My music!” She cried.

“It’s in your bag. See, you didn’t even remember until now,” Rosanna chided. She could feel Solace’s tension mounting, though, and knew that she was in for a near complete meltdown. Solace was such an excellent performer but she became totally neurotic and unglued before each performance, often regurgitating at the last moment. She would wretch until there was nothing but dry heaves and then proceed to sing, dance or act as if she had had a relaxing yoga session beforehand. Rosanna hated seeing her friend go through such torture. She wished there were a magic, non-addictive, side-effect free pill available for severe stage fright. She would buy stock in the company or at least have her mother keep the wonder drug in stock for these occasions.  

“Sanna, why did you let me eat lunch? My stomach feels like it’s going to revolt.” Solace hung her head as if it weighed a hundred pounds. “Can we stop somewhere? I—“ She clutched at her middle.

“No throwing up in my cab, please!” The cab driver caught Rosanna’s eye in the mirror.

“Oh, God, no. Sol. Please! Not here. Not now! Wait till we get to the hall at least.” Rosanna pleaded. She looked up. They were driving through Central Park and there was no way they could jump out to allow Solace to empty her nervous stomach.

“Is she drunk?” asked the cabbie.

“No. She’s just got stage fright.” Rosanna replied as she stroked Solace’s back. 

“Stage fright. What is stage fright?” insisted the driver. “Why would she be afraid of a stage? What can it do to her?”

“No, it’s not that. She’s a performer and—“ Rosanna realized that she did not owe the driver any explanations. She closed her mouth, vaguely noticing that her own nerves were showing themselves through her accent, which was becoming progressively thicker. It must have been all those years spent with her Abuelita Carmen, who had taught her Spanish. “Just drive, please.” 

“Sanna?” Solace whimpered.

“Yes, Sol.”

“I’m not gonna make it.” Solace could feel her throat muscles working and her stomach lurch. She put her hands over her mouth, tears beginning to run down her cheeks, smearing her makeup.

Thinking quickly, Rosanna grabbed Solace’s knapsack, emptied its contents and held it under Solace’s weaving head. 

“Don’t throw up in my cab!” yelled the driver.

“She’s not going to, you jerk!” Rosanna screamed as Solace abruptly released the contents of her stomach into the awaiting backpack. The smell that filled the car was overwhelming, and the driver quickly rolled down all four windows to let in a chilly blast of March air. 

“I hope you are having napkins, Miss. I still have to pick up customers and they will not be happy to sit in my cab with a mess on the seat,” barked the driver as he pulled to the curb and stopped the car.

“You know, a woman just got sick in your cab and all you can think of is your damned next fare. You don’t even give a crap whether she’s all right or not.” Rosanna was beginning to feel a surge of anger as she hunted in her own bag for a tissue, a napkin, anything that Solace could use to wipe her mouth.

“I’m so sorry, Sir,” Solace said weakly, wrinkling her nose at the awful taste in her mouth. 

“I don’t care what you do, just get something. My cab is now smelling like a drunk was in here. I am going to lose a lot of money tonight,” whined the driver, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

“You know. You’re really starting to get me upset,” Rosanna snarled as she handed Solace a silk handkerchief. “I said we would clean your damned cab and I will. But could you just wait a minute?” 

“Sanna? Okay. Calm down. Remember, we still have to get to the hall.” Solace placed a restraining hand on Rosanna’s shoulder. She could hear the rage rising in Rosanna’s voice and knew that injury to the cabbie might be imminent. To her relief, she found that she felt a bit better. 

“All right,” came Rosanna’s soft but menacing reply, her eyes never leaving those of the driver. The two remained locked in a glaring contest. 

Solace released her grip on Rosanna’s arm. She zipped up her now ruined knapsack, thanking the heavens that it had been relatively inexpensive. She could barely stand to hold it, but she placed it carefully on the floor. Thank god, Rosanna had been such a quick thinker or who knew what a mess there might have been. When they got out, she would toss it in the nearest trash bin.  She then began searching for her things, which Rosanna had seemingly flung to the four corners of the back seat. 

“I see a convenience store. I’m going to run over and get some air freshener. You stay here, Sol.” Rosanna commanded. She snatched up the knapsack, threw open the door and leapt out. Once outside, she held the bag at a safe distance and gingerly rummaged through the pockets, making sure that Solace would not be throwing away any items she might need. She found a garbage basket and tossed it in. She looked up, noticed she had the light and dashed across the street and into the store.

“You’re a very beautiful woman. It’s too bad you don’t know how to hold your liquor. But would you be interested in helping a poor man obtain citizenship into this fine and prosperous country?” 

Solace was so shocked by this man’s bold statements, she hardly knew how to respond.  

“First of all, I am not a drunk. I just have terrible stage fright.” Her voice still sounded slightly shaky in her ears. She would have to do some serious warming up to get it in shape for the performance. “And secondly, I am certainly not interested in marrying a total stranger, no matter how great he thinks our country is,” she finished with a final blast of rancid air, which caused her stomach to lurch in revolt. No, not again. Please. Without thinking, she lunged through the open door, stepped a few paces, leaned over the curb and surrendered to her stomach’s demand for purging itself. As she stood up, she weaved a bit and reached out to steady herself against a solid object. The object turned out to be Rosanna, who had come racing back across the street, saw Solace heaving what could only be air at this point, tossed the bag into the cab and ran to take her outstretched arm. I do need a drink, Rosanna thought vaguely as she leaned Solace against a mailbox and began to gather up their things. She crammed as much of Solace’s items into her own shoulder bag as possible and jammed the rest into any available pocket in Solace’s coat as well as her own leather jacket. As the knapsack had been the willing recipient, there was very little to clean up. Rosanna removed the can of air freshener from the brown paper bag and sprayed it liberally into the car. For good measure she aimed the can into the driver’s area and sprayed furiously, not missing his mirror, the dashboard, the front window and the seat.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?” screamed the driver as he got a head full of ode de rose. Rosanna did not answer. She simply slammed the door and turned to Solace. The cab screeched away.

“Are you feeling better, Sol?”

“I think so. Thanks. Where are we?” 

“Well, we’re on the west side anyway. We just have to walk a few blocks. Do you think you can handle that? Here. Have some water. You can rinse with it.” Rosanna unscrewed the top of a small bottled water and handed it to Solace, who proceeded to do as advised. Once done, she turned to face Rosanna and felt a stick of gum being pressed into her hand which she also took with gratitude.

“Is there nothing you don’t think of, woman?” Solace asked incredulously.

“I try to cover all the bases.” Rosanna answered with a slight smirk. Come on. Take my arm. Are those shoes good for walking?”

“I certainly hope so.” Solace said, unfolding her cane, but also taking Rosanna’s arm.

“You don’t need—“ Rosanna began but stopped herself.

“You’re learning, Sanna.” Solace squeezed Rosanna’s arm and they made the short jaunt uptown.

When they entered the hall, they ran straight for the nearest ladies’ room where Solace gazed into the large mirror to assess her appearance. Aside from her makeup needing repair, she had sustained no major damage to her beautiful dress. After washing her face, rinsing again, and running a brush through her hair, she asked Rosanna for another piece of gum and, in her most woebegone voice, if she had any makeup. 

“You know I leave the femme stuff up to you, Sol.” Rosanna responded, shrugging her shoulders. “Don’t you walk with extra?”

“I for—“ Solace had begun to say the word forgot, but she thought better of it. Instead she said, “Okay. You’re right.” She picked up her cane, which she had dropped on the counter. She flung open the door and headed toward the recital hall auditorium. Rosanna followed closely on her heels. Solace ran into the hall where the women of the ensemble were assembled. She called out as she practically flew down the aisle, “Does anyone have any makeup for a leche con café complexion?” Peels of laughter could be heard throughout the space as the women recognized the approaching woman. This was not the first time Solace had needed last-minute assistance. As their laughter died down, some women could be heard grumbling, others could be heard snickering and talking to their neighbors, and still others jumped to their feet and ran to retrieve their bags, peering inside to see if they had a shade that would work for Solace.

“You don’t need any makeup, Solace. Now get your ass up here!” came the abrupt tones of a woman many of the women called Gruff Gretchen, a no-nonsense second alto. 

“All right, ladies.” Interrupted the smooth voice of Katrina, their conductor. “Solace and Rosanna, why are you so late? Never mind. Tell me later. I think I might have an idea already. Solace, do you at least have your music?” Katrina sighed in exasperation as she started for her own briefcase. She had forced Solace, under pain of death, to provide her with several copies of her Braille music as she had become accustomed to Solace’s knack for losing and/or forgetting her music in her nervousness. The performances were too important to leave anything to this brilliant, yet hopelessly scatterbrained young woman.

“Rosanna has it somewhere,” came Solace’s sweet reply as she traipsed daintily down the carpet, Rosanna trailing behind like her maid servant, laden with coats and bags. 

Katrina ran to take Solace’s arm and led her up the short flight of steps. At the top, Solace was met by Sasha, who dusted her cheeks with blush and her lips with a light lipstick. 

“That looks great. You’re a lucky woman, Solace,” said Katrina as she stood waiting patiently for the job to be completed.

“Thank you,” Solace said to both women as she took her seat. Rosanna stood, shaking her head. You would have thought Solace were a queen and these women her royal minions. Well, actually, she was as beautiful, if not more so, than any queen and Rosanna would have walked on hot coals for her. But that was a thought for another time. She placed bag and baggage in a seat and took her place in the second alto section next to Gruff Gretchen.

“Solace looks good enough to eat. You’re a lucky woman, Rosanna,” whispered Gretchen.

“Thank you. But that is a thought that is best left unspoken, Gretchen,” Rosanna replied through gritted teeth. It was no secret that Gretchen had her eye on Solace and this caused Rosanna’s blood to boil.

“I’m just paying you a compliment, Hon,” smirked Gretchen lewdly.

Rosanna did not answer, but opened her music in preparation for the two-hour rehearsal.




Solace & Rosanna Ch. 16



The dress rehearsal went well and arrangements were made to meet the following evening. As the ladies packed their bags, Solace turned to all assembled and yelled, “Does anyone have a knapsack or a plastic bag I can borrow until tomorrow?” This time more groans than laughter could be heard from the women. However, a bag came sailing through the air, which Rosanna deftly caught. She looked up and saw that the owner was Gretchen. Now she groaned inwardly. Thank the Goddess it was only a cheap bag she had offered. Rosanna bristled at the thought of the payment Gretchen might try to extract for a more costly offering.

Solace and Rosanna had made reservations for dinner at Casa Maria’s, a restaurant serving fine Spanish cuisine. As this was the name of Solace’s childhood friend, the name never failed to evoke sweet, nostalgic memories. The establishment requested formal dinner attire, thus their reason for dressing up in the first place. Rosanna asked Solace if she still felt like going, and after some thought, Solace decided they should go as they might not be able to get another table for two or three weeks. 

“But what about this junky bag?” Solace asked in alarm as she held up the plastic bag containing her belongings.

“We’ll leave it at the desk. We’ll just take out the important stuff,” Rosanna replied nonchalantly.

“Do you always have a good idea, Sanna?” 

“I try to be--” Rosanna started, but was interrupted.

“I know. You try to be prepared for anything.” They both laughed and headed for the subway. No more taxis for this evening.

They arrived back at Solace’s apartment a little after one in the morning. Both women tried to climb the stairs quietly, but they had been discussing the evening’s events and the cabby’s comments and found themselves giggling helplessly and stumbling rather than treading lightly. They opened the door to the apartment and rushed in, falling on the cushions as gales of laughter made their sides ache. 

“I need a shower,” Solace suddenly announced as she rolled off her cushion and stood. She began walking towards her bedroom, scattering articles of clothing as she went. Rosanna watched each garment as it fluttered to the floor. Not being able to resist Solace’s obvious tantalizing invitation, she leapt to her feet and followed her into the bedroom. Smiling to herself as she shed her own clothes. She thought she might need a cleansing, invigorating yet relaxingly sexy shower as well. She was absolutely right, of course.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 17



2003: L. D. Jansen stood on the steps of her apartment house, hands thrust into pockets as she watched the departing taxi glide down the block and turn the corner. She turned abruptly and strode purposefully into the building. Her concentration was such that she did not hear Dodge, the doorman as he bid her a good evening. 

Jon Dodge found the enigmatic woman extremely attractive, not that he would ever let that little secret out. He watched her lithe, muscled physique as she strolled into the elevator. He was slightly perturbed that Ms. Jansen hadn’t responded to his greeting , but even as she marched by him he could see that she was deep in thought. He supposed it might have something to do with the cute, little redhead she had hustled into the taxi, handing the driver some bills for the fare. How did she pick up so many good-looking women? Maybe instead of fantasizing about her, he should ask her for some tips. The fact that L. D. was a lesbian did not turn him off at all. He had wondered why this was so, but not for long. He felt sensuality run off of L. D. Jansen in waves and he was hooked. He used his crumpled handkerchief to wipe his perspiring forehead. She always had this effect on him. How the hell was he going to keep this job with this situation? 

L. D. entered the waiting elevator, punched the button and leaned back against the wall with her arms crossed. She was aware of Dodge’s attraction to her but had no inclination to play her usual flirtatious games. She was not interested in men or their petty needs. She also knew that many men found the idea of two women making love arousing and it disgusted her. As long as Dodge kept his hands and his thoughts to himself and respected her, there would be no trouble and he would keep his position. As the owner of the building, she did not generally concern herself with the day-to-day running of The Jansen, but there had been times when her clout was necessary to settle a dispute. L. D. kept her face a mask of neutrality until the doors closed. She exited the elevator, made her way to her apartment, entered and locked the door. Immediately she smelled the stagnant water from her tropical fish tank. Funny, she hadn’t noticed that while Shayna was there. L. D. smiled to herself. Of course, they had headed straight for her enormous bedroom, never pausing to admire the brightly colored fish swimming contentedly in the large aquarium. She glanced briefly in that direction and made a mental note to clean it tomorrow. 

She wrinkled her nose as her own body odor assaulted her nostrils. She desperately needed a shower and her short, black hair was plastered to her head from perspiration. She would wash that as well. She knew she looked positively disheveled. Before taking care of hygienic issues, however, she made her way to her computer, switched it on and waited for it to boot up. Once on her computer’s desktop, she opened her web browser. Thank the Goddess for broadband; it was so much faster than her old dial-up connection.  She would never live in an area where this service was not offered. She began searching for Solace. L. D. was in the zone and she needed to discover even the smallest detail about her beautiful, graceful partner. The fact that Solace had a visual impairment only heightened the attraction. Hopefully, the Internet would give up at least an e-mail address. L D.’s fingers hovered over the keys and then clenched into fists. She glared at the monitor and her stomach lurched. In her brief chat with Solace she had neglected to get the woman’s last name. Now she had nothing to go on. She ran a trembling hand through her damp hair. L. D.’s leg began shaking uncontrollably and she dropped a hand to her thigh to try to stop the annoying tick. She became aware that her entire body was trembling slightly. She and Shayna had indeed given each other quite a work out. She smiled at this thought. Neither of them had been disappointed. However, now that this sexual escapade was behind her and her body temporarily satisfied, she could now concentrate on the true object of her desire--Solace. 

L. D. leapt up from her chair and stormed into her bedroom, removing her clothes as she went. Perhaps a shower would do more than cleanse her body, it might help relax her and give her some insight into how she could contact Solace. 

As she stood under the cool spray, her eyes closed, L. D. replayed the dance sequence. She became powerfully aroused. This was madness. She was not going to be able to go about her daily activities. She rinsed, toweled herself off and walked naked into her bedroom. Her eyes alighted on the telephone and she was struck with an idea. She was such a computer geek she hadn’t even thought of a good old-fashioned telephone call to Ardena. She would simply ask for Solace’s last name. She hoped her actions would not raise too much suspicion. No. L. D. knew how to be cool. That was a reputation she had cultivated for many years. She grabbed the handset and dialed the number to the dance studio. Franz answered and L. D. asked to speak to Ardena. She knew the woman often stayed late to work out new routines. She hoped this time was no exception. 

When Ardena answered the phone she sounded a bit tired, but generally in her usually good spirits. L. D. launched right into the reason for her call.

“Ardena, it’s L. D.” she began.

“L. D.?” replied Ardena, surprise evident in her voice. “To what do I owe this honor?” This was the first time the woman had called her. She sensed it must have to do with one of her dancers. Ardena knew L. D. was a player, but so far there had been no complaints. She surmised that the ladies were not adverse to L. D. Jansen’s technique. God knew, the woman was charm personified. Ardena smiled to herself thinking that L. D. reminded her of herself.

“Two things. I wanted to thank you for pairing me with Solace today. She’s a fantastic dancer. Has she been studying with you long?” L. D. hoped Ardena could not hear the nervous anxiety in her voice. 

“Oh. You’re welcome. You know I’m big on experimenting. I thought you two might make a good pair. This time I was right on the money, L. D. Solace Tynan is a natural. She’s got the “it factor. I just wish people could see past her visual impairment.” Ardena’s pride in Solace was transparent. She was known for saying what she felt. How she managed to do so with aplomb was a well-guarded secret. All Ardena would admit to was a plain, old-fashioned Southern upbringing.

Ardena thought she might have said a bit too much, but L. D. seemed genuinely interested in Solace and she had definitely thought about paring them for the next recital, so they would be getting together in any case. 

“That is a shame,” L. D. said sincerely. She had experienced first-hand how people were quick to judge and pigeonhole a person in order to make themselves feel more comfortable and secure. “She should definitely be on Broadway. You said her name is Tynan? Wow! I thought she was of Latin extraction.” L. D. fished. She absently twirled her Cross pen. 

“Well, Solace has an interesting background. I’m sure you’ll get to know her as you two work together. Her last name is all I’m giving out, L. D.” Ardena said, the last sentence injected with a stern note.

“Thank you, Dena. I’m sure you’re right about that.” L. D. replied, filling her scratchpad with the name Tynan. 

“And L. D.?” Ardena said in a quieter tone.

“Yes, Dena?”

“You treat Solace right. She’s not one of your conquests to be conked on the head and dragged to your lair. I’ll know. Solace is an open-book. She’ll tell me everything. Do you get my meaning?” Ardena waited for L. D.’s reply.

“I do, Ardena. I would never hurt Solace.” L. D. answered, taken aback by the thinly-veiled intensity in Ardena’s voice. She would have to tread lightly with this one. She thanked Ardena and hung up. 

L. D. dialed directory assistance and was informed that she needed at least a street address to narrow her search. She had no idea where Solace lived, but she decided to work her way through the S. Tynans in Manhattan and then fan out to the other boroughs if that became necessary. She repeatedly dialed directory assistance until she had a list of ten numbers. She would begin making her calls this evening. But first she had to take care of a very urgent, throbbing in parts south.

Casey and Leander sat at a table in the corner deli. She had called him on his cell phone and requested that he meet her at their favorite haunt. The food was questionable, but the establishment was conveniently located. Casey supposed they could have met in either apartment, but the day was lovely and she felt like people-watching, which was one of her favorite pastimes. 

“I’ve got an idea.” Casey said as she nibbled on a French fry. 

“Uh-oh. Maybe I should leave now.” Leander replied, giving his sandwich a sniff. “Doesn’t this smell stale to you?” he asked, thrusting the sandwich under her nose.

“Leander, please. I need your full attention here,” Casey said as she swatted his hand away, sandwich and all.

“I’ll give you my attention after I see if the sandwich is good. Why did we come here anyway?” He removed the top slice of bread, eyeing the chicken salad inside. As he did so, the rancid odor of the mayonnaise gave off a singularly unappetizing odor. 

“I thought this wasn’t fresh. I’m going to get these Bozos to give me another chicken salad sandwich,” he huffed as he tried to catch the attention of a passing waiter, who turned in the opposite direction. Leander blew out an exasperated breath.

“Why would you want to get another chicken sandwich when that one isn’t good. Just get something completely different and then you’ll be able to listen to me.  Waiter!” Casey caught the man’s eye and gestured him over to their table. Leander rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“Why didn’t he come over when I called him?”

“Because you are not a woman, Leander.

“It shouldn’t matter. I’m a paying customer,” he growled under his breath as the man in the apron came and stood by their table. 

“May I help you, Miss?” 

“Yes, you may,” Leander chimed in before Casey could respond. 

The waiter turned to Leander, his eyebrows raised quizzically. Casey also smirked. Leander paid no attention to either gesture.

“The mayo in my sandwich is stale. I’d like my money back.” He suddenly realized that he hadn’t paid the check yet. He regarded Casey with a puzzled expression. She simply shrugged. 

“I’ll get you another sandwich, Sir,” said the waiter, reaching for the plate.

“No, I don’t want another one. I just don’t want to pay for this one. I could have gotten food poisoning. At this Casey rolled her eyes. Leander could be so dramatic.

“Whatever you like, Sir,” said the waiter compliantly, retrieving his pad from his apron pocket.

“Well, I don’t know. Can I have another menu?” asked Leander.

“Certainly, Sir.”

“He’ll have a roast beef on whole wheat,” Casey interrupted impatiently, itching to get to the reason they had met in the first place.

“I will?” asked Leander surprised.

“Yes, you will,” Casey said firmly. 

“Thank you, Miss,” replied the waiter as he replaced his pad and walked back towards the kitchen.

“You’re welcome,” replied Casey and Leander in unison.

“Leander, you’re so silly!” Casey giggled.

“What? You know I like to stir up the straights. The poor man didn’t even know what to say.” 

“Now can we discuss Solace and Rosanna, please?” Casey asked, looking him in the eye, crossing her arms on the table.

“Okay. Okay.” Leander said, adjusting his glasses and leaning forward. Innocent passersby might have assumed that the attractive couple were in deep discussion over the arrangements for their impending wedding.

“I’ve got a sort of plan,” Casey began. “Solace is in my dance class. I was thinking I could invite her to the museum for a Verbal viewing, if she has any interest in art and…” She trailed off.

“Now why would you want to involve Solace, Casey? She hasn’t done anything to you. You don’t even speak to her. Isn’t that going to look suspicious if you just all of a sudden invite her to take a tour? Leander asked, forever trying to be Casey’s conscience because she clearly ignored her own when she was obsessed.

“Well…I… Oh, why do you always have to throw common sense into the thing?” Casey leaned back, running her hands through her hair. 

“If I don’t point out these things to you, Casey, you’ll just go off and do something completely irresponsible and get yourself and others in trouble. Somebody’s got to tame you, woman,” Leander said smugly.

“Well, Mr. Know-It-All, then you come up with a plan,” said Casey as she grabbed up a handful of her greasy French Fries, shoveling them into her mouth, a sure sign that she was becoming agitated. She didn’t even care that they were cold and had the consistency of cardboard.

Leander removed his glasses, wiped them with a napkin and replaced them and confidently replied, “Why don’t you have a party, Casey? That way you can invite Rosanna without raising any suspicions.

Casey ceased her frantic chewing. She looked at Leander as if he had never had a decent idea in his life and this was his chance to redeem himself.

“My God, that’s brilliant! Where did you…? How did you…? Never mind. What kind of party should we have?” Casey pushed her half-eaten plate of fries to the side.

“We? Where did the “we” come from?” Leander asked in mock horror, secretly thrilled that Casey liked his idea and wanted him to help arrange things.

“Come on, Leander. You know you want to do this.” Casey coaxed.

“Well, I think we should have a costume party.

“Leander, it’s summer. It’s too hot for costumes. “ Casey reminded him, a smirk playing on her rosy lips.

“So, we’ll have a beach party. We can use the roof garden. We’ll set up umbrellas so people won’t fry or die of skin cancer. How’s that?” He sat back, a satisfied grin creasing his smooth features. He knew he had her.

“I still can’t believe you came up with the idea.” Casey said sarcastically.

“You know, if we weren’t friends forever I’d be insulted.” Leander pouted, his full lips jutting out comically.

“You know I love you, Leander,” Casey cooed.

“Oh, sure, when you want something. Right?”

“Well, what better time to love somebody?” Casey said smiling as she reached over and ran her hand through Leander’s curly hair.

“You’re supposed to love friends all the time, not just when they do things for you or have good ideas to help you get laid.”

“I know. But It’s so much easier this way. Let’s get out of here.” Casey signaled the waiter to come to their table.

“But I haven’t gotten my sandwich yet. I’m starving!” Leander protested.

“I’ll treat you to La Contessa’s.” 

“Oh, all right,” Leander grumbled as he retrieved his shoulder-bag, as did Casey. They paid the check and left the diner. Out on the sidewalk, they hailed a taxi to take them uptown. Neither of them noticed the woman in ragged clothes, gripping a rusty shopping cart. She had been surreptitiously watching their every move as they sat blissfully unaware.

The waiter scowled as he watched Casey and Leander exit. He held the plate with the sandwich. What the hell was he going to do with it? It went against his principles to throw good food away and the sandwich hadn’t even been touched. He glanced around the restaurant and then out the window. There he spotted the homeless lady who came in for coffee every morning before the diner became crowded. Her shopping cart was loaded as usual and she had the same moth-eaten clothes on, her shoes criss-crossed with duct tape to keep what was left of them on her feet. She would be happy to have it. He stepped outside, approached her and offered the sandwich. At first she seemed reluctant to take it, as the restaurant was not in the habit of giving away food. She looked into the man’s eyes, saw a sincere wish to do a good deed and snatched it greedily, shoving half of it into her mouth. 

The waiter backed his way into the diner. He realized he could not give away food often, but he felt good about doing at least one good thing today.

Out on the street, the homeless woman threw away the now empty wax paper, which had held the sandwich. She turned her gaze uptown and muttered, “The rose you seek is out of reach.” The wheels of her old shopping cart creaked as she made her way up the block.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 18



2003: Matilda Harper sat in her office, drumming her impeccably manicured finger nails on the top of her ultra-neat glass-covered desk. She glared at the telephone as if the instrument had offended her in some way. As far as Matilda was concerned, it had because Rosanna had once again rebuffed her dinner invitation, claiming she had important reports to finish. This excuse was beginning to wear thin and Matilda had slammed down the phone in frustration. She knew that Rosanna was still smarting over her abrupt departure, but it was a trip Matilda had to make—to clear her head. It had not worked as expected as her every waking thought was of Rosanna and their life together. Didn’t Rosanna realize that they needed to talk soon if they were to make any progress? She ignored the fact that Rosanna had wanted to do just that and she had told her that she needed time. Well, Rosanna had nearly slept with her old high school friend. Did she even trust Rosanna? She put her head in her hands and sighed in exasperation. She was so confused about the whole damned situation.

What was it about Rosanna Romero anyway? Surely, Matilda could find another smolderingly gorgeous, Latin woman who made her skin tingle at the slightest touch of her hand or brush of her full, sensuous lips. She opened a drawer in her desk and retrieved a silk handkerchief and dabbed at her brow, cheeks and upper lip. She got up, crossed to the window and switched on the air conditioner, turning it up to the frigid setting. That was much better. Such was the effect that Rosanna had on her and there seemed to be nothing she could do about it. Matilda began pacing her spacious office, her low heels sinking into the plush carpeting. Why couldn’t she simply cut Rosanna loose? She knew the answer. Rosanna was hers now and she would not give her up without a fight. She knew that Rosanna found her sexually attractive, but Rosanna had never told her she loved her. Of course, Matilda had not uttered those words either. There was definitely a power struggle going on between them. Matilda had fought long and hard to gain what power and control she felt she now possessed and Rosanna was a part of that never-ending quest. 

Matilda did not harbor any ill-will towards Solace, but she believed that she was a better life-mate for Rosanna because she could see. There were obvious, visual activities that she and Rosanna could share that Rosanna and Solace would never be able to enjoy. She winced at this as it sounded cold and unfeeling when thrust under the glaring light of reflection, but it was the truth, nonetheless. 

It had been a month since she had seen or spoken to Rosanna, and she was beginning to genuinely miss her company—not to mention Rosanna’s other talents. Rosanna possessed a wit that beguiled and challenged Matilda in a way no other lover had. 

The phone jolted Matilda out of her musings. She snatched up the receiver, hoping briefly it might be Rosanna. It couldn’t be; she had just hung up on her only a short time ago. She glanced at her watch; an hour had passed. Upon hearing the enticing timbre of Rosanna’s voice, Matilda’s heart-rate sped up and she sat down in her visitor’s chair. Get a hold of yourself, woman, she chided herself.

“Mattie?” Rosanna asked, her mouth dry with nerves.

“Rosanna?” Matilda answered in what sounded to her like a voice riddled with insecurity.

“Would you like to have dinner with me on Friday night?”

Had Matilda heard correctly? “I…uh… Let me check my calendar.” She held the phone away from her mouth for a few seconds as if checking her omni-present date book. This would have been impossible from this position as it was in her desk drawer and Matilda was rooted to her seat, holding the handset in a death-grip.

“Uhm…I think I can do that.” Her voice cracked slightly and she cleared her throat.” 

“Great. We’ll go to Fresh Basil’s. I don’t think I want to do La Contessa’s again. Is that all right?” 

“Sure. I think that’s probably wise.” 

“Okay, then, I’ll pick you up there and we’ll just walk down.”

Finding a shred of dignity, Matilda said, “We have to talk.”

“I know. We will. I’ll see you on Friday.” With those words, Rosanna hung up.

Matilda sat there for several minutes and then a slow smile made it’s way across her face. What had happened to her playing hard to get and being the one in charge? Who cared? In Matilda’s mind, she still had won as it was obvious that Rosanna wanted…needed to see her as well. Of course, Rosanna might… No, that was not a possibility.  

2002

The crisp April air blew through Rosanna’s hair, chilling her slightly but making her feel refreshed and rejuvenated as she sped down Fifth Avenue on her racing bike. Although the day was bright with sunshine, she was glad she had worn her Getting Started With jacket; it was lightweight yet warm. The sidewalk was dotted with Saturday strollers and parents pushing baby strollers.  The steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art were strewn with visitors in spite of the brisk wind. Both native New Yorkers and tourists steadfastly held to the notion that spring was here and they should be out in droves.  They would enjoy the relatively warm day; at least the temperature was in the low fifties as opposed to the blustery thirties and forties. 

The huge, colorful banner advertising the exhibit of African-American prints from 1929 to 1945 caught Rosanna’s eye and she slowed her furious pumping to read the information. She enjoyed experiencing artwork from all cultures and was pleased that the museum would be hosting this particular collection as it was unfamiliar to her. Rosanna came to a stop, removed her headphones and sunglasses, reached into her fanny pack and extracted her mini-disk recorder. Bike riding provided the opportunity for her to clear her mind while conditioning her body, but she did not want to clear out the fact that she wanted to see this exhibit.  She did not always find herself pedaling down Fifth Avenue; so she took the unexpected viewing of the banner as a good sign. Wistfully, she wished that Solace could share this activity with her. She had not even thought to ask Solace if she rode a bike. But, of course, that would be ridiculous. Wouldn’t it?  She made a point to ask her. However, if Solace did admit to indulging in that dangerous pastime (especially in New York City), then Rosanna would have to run straight to her doctor’s office for a prescription for high blood pressure medication because she would surely be a nervous wreck from that moment on. Maybe she would shelve that conversation for now.  Concluding her memo, she returned her mini-disk to her bag. She stood there, taking in the majesty of the museum and pondered the treasures within. How could she and Solace share this pastime? Would Solace be able to see the artwork, prints, statuary and other object d’art? How was it that they had known each other for four years and had never discussed the issue? They enjoyed lengthy discourses on many topics, had even shared some heated disagreements, which had somehow often wound up in the bedroom. Rosanna smiled at this thought. The subject of art had never come up. Rosanna supposed it was just one more area about which she was too embarrassed to inquire. In any event, she would go to this exhibit. She hopped on her bike and sped off.

Matilda Harper sat on a folded plastic bag on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art watching the passing hordes. She had decided to take a well-needed break from her hectic day at the law office. Her position as an Executive Legal Secretary kept her on a tight-wire. The money and perks were excellent but the hours were brutal. She could barely adhere to a decent lunch hour so she grabbed snatches of breaks whenever she could decently get away without raising too many eyebrows. She pulled her blazer tighter around her slim form as the wind whipped through her sleek, blond hair. As she reached up to brush her hair out of her eyes, she noticed a well-muscled figure brake their bike, pull out what looked like a small recorder and begin speaking into it. Matilda’s eyes narrowed as she took in the woman’s physique. As Matilda wore sunglasses, she did not believe the other woman could see her blatant ogling. Her eyes moved from the top of shiny, black tresses to the tip of top-brand sneakers—and all points in between. What portion of the woman’s skin Matilda could see was a smooth, milk-chocolate color and when the woman removed her own shades, Matilda caught sight of the most beautiful face she had ever seen. All-in-all, the woman was positively stunning. Matilda was taken aback by her visceral reaction as she considered herself quite reserved and conservative by today’s standards. 

She watched as the woman got back on her bike and rode off, noting the Getting Started With logo on the back of her red and black jacket. She tried to clear her mind, but the vision of the stranger, gazing at the museum, looking so incredibly sexy would not dissipate. 

Matilda’s thoughts turned to her on-again, off-again relationship with L. D. Currently, they were semi-on, which meant they occasionally had dinner together and shared what they referred to as a “session”, but were free to see other people as long as they practiced safe-sex. It was an arrangement that seemed to suit them as they felt that neither was ready for a committed relationship. Matilda glanced at her watch and realized that she had taken a longer break than was planned. She stood hurriedly, collected her belongings and headed back to her office, a secret, sad smile on her lovely face. Would she ever see the beautiful stranger again? She supposed that there was a slim chance as New York City was not as large as it might seem. Her mind’s eye flashed back to the Getting Started With logo on the woman’s jacket. Was that a company? She would do a little searching. She would also make it her business to visit the museum a bit more often.

The following Saturday morning found Solace visiting her family and Rosanna standing on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She ran up the steps and through the entrance. She deliberately carried her few items in a small leather pouch, as she was aware that security would be tight and backpacks were discouraged. She walked to the information desk, collected a brochure for the exhibit and made her way through the myriad corridors to her desired goal.  She was fascinated by the prints, which were both in bold colors as well as black and white. She wondered at an artist’s decision to create what might be called stereotypical characters. She was so engrossed with the fine artwork she barely noticed the time. Her knee let her know. It never ceased to amaze her that she could cycle for lengthy periods of time, but standing too long would cause her excruciating pane in her right knee. She had arrived at the museum at eleven o’clock and it was now one. She wandered from room to room one last time (working out the stiffness in her knee), and decided to purchase the book, which contained all of the pictures of the exhibit.  She had been powerfully affected. The art had evoked feelings of tenderness as well as great anger, and she wanted a memento.  

She left the exhibit, found an information desk and asked where she might find the gift shop. Rosanna weaved through the boisterous crowds, her short boot heels rapping purposefully on the polished floor. She located the gift shop, which was also surprisingly jammed. “Tourists”, she grumbled as she stood in the entrance, taking in the store. Spotting the book, she strode toward the shelf with single-minded determination. She reached for the book and collided with a woman reaching for the same item at the same time. Their arms became entangled and Rosanna landed on the woman’s right foot.

“Ouch!” The woman shrieked.

“I’m so sorry,” Rosanna stammered as she disengaged herself from a slim, blond woman of approximately the same height as herself, “I wasn’t paying attention. The exhibit was so intense and I was so intent on getting the book that I—“

“I know. You didn’t see me,” finished the other woman, rubbing her foot through her shoe. Without thinking, she leaned on Rosanna’s shoulder.

Rosanna stood there motionless. What could she say or do? She had stomped on the poor woman’s foot. The least she could do was allow her to lean on her shoulder for a bit. She finally said, “Are you all right?”

Matilda looked up quickly, her breath catching in her throat and she froze.

“I’m…uh…I’m….okay. Thank you,” Matilda said as she realized on whom her hand rested. She knew she ought to remove it, but it seemed glued to the spot. For this particular shoulder belonged to HER cyclist. Their eyes locked and Rosanna smiled, as did Matilda. She felt like a character in one of those trashy romance novels who swoons when she meets Mr. or Ms. Right.

“Can I at least pay for the book or something?” Rosanna asked sheepishly.

“Uh…no… That’s all right.” Matilda reluctantly removed her hand from Rosanna’s shoulder, straightened her skirt and tried to compose herself. Believing that she would not be offered another chance to spot this woman, she took a bold stance and blurted,, “If you really want to make sure I’m okay, you can invite me for coffee.” 

Rosanna raised an eyebrow at this obvious flirtatious invitation. She knew she hadn’t hurt the woman severely, but she decided to be just a bit wicked. 

“I could do that, but I could also take you to an emergency room to make sure your foot is all right,” she said with mock seriousness. 

“No… I mean, my foot is fine. Thank you,” said Matilda as she grabbed two copies of the book and handed one to Rosanna.

“Thank you,” said Rosanna in her most sultry tone. Wait until she told Solace about this little incident. But should she tell Solace? After all, she was flirting with quite an attractive woman. Solace was fairly casual about their relationship, but she might be pushing it with this one.

“You’re welcome.” Matilda saw the change come over Rosanna’s face and felt disappointment spreading like a weed through her system. She turned and walked to the cashier,; Rosanna followed. They paid for their purchases and left the museum. 

Outside on the steps, they faced each other, taking in the other woman’s style of dress, hair color, eye color and myriad details. Matilda said, “You’re right, though. The exhibit was exquisite…the colors, the subjects, the emotion...”.

“Yes, it was very powerful. I’m really sorry, though, that I smashed your foot,” Rosanna began. “Maybe I can buy you that coffee.” It was, after all, only coffee.

“Is it going to be a problem for you?” asked Matilda holding her breath.

Rosanna rolled the question around in her mind and finally said, “No. It’s not a problem. But what’s your name?” 

“Matilda Harper and yours?”

“Rosanna Romero.” She would simply tell Solace that she was meeting a friend for lunch. Certainly there was nothing wrong with that.  They made plans to meet and walked away in opposite directions. As they walked, each turned and caught the other watching them.  Both women blushed and turned quickly away.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 19



2003: The day was overcast with the threat of rain, but Rosanna was prepared, as always, with her umbrella tucked in her shoulder-bag as she walked uptown to Matilda’s office. She recalled the times Solace had appeared at several of their meetings looking as if she’d been through a hurricane, hair plastered, soaked and wind-blown, but sexy, nonetheless.  Damned sexy. On one such memorable occasion Solace had raced into a rehearsal-late--and dropped her belongings into a nearby chair.  She had then sought out Rosanna and flung her rain-soaked body at her, kissing her passionately by way of a greeting. Rosanna had flinched at the dampness pressing against her warm, dry clothes but had soon responded, enfolding Solace possessively in her arms and returning the kiss with rising arousal. Throats had cleared and they’d remembered where they were. As they breathlessly parted, Rosanna not only felt her own now damp clothes but her cheeks burning with embarrassment through the catcalls, whistles and snickers. Secretly, she had also felt a rush of pride at Solace’s unrestrained affections.

Arriving at Matilda’s office, she leaned briefly against a supporting pole holding up the building’s awning. Glancing at her watch, she realized that she was half an hour early. Her nervousness at meeting with Matilda would not allow her to stay at GSW any longer. She decided to walk to Central Park, locate an empty bench and sit down to wait. This mini trek would afford her the opportunity to compose herself before jumping into what surely might become a confrontational situation.

Rosanna’s attractively styled hair, charcoal gray pantsuit worn with a navy blue blouse and short navy-blue boots bespoke success and confidence. It conveyed the impression that this was a woman in charge of her life, a life in which most decisions and people certainly swung her way. If an interested observer could have stolen a quick peak into Rosanna Romero’s head, however, they would have been treated to a roller-coaster ride of dipping, twisting, swirling masses of emotions and thoughts. Solace, Matilda, Casey, friendship, love, and children weaved in and around the corridors of her mind--all vying for first place. Stepping onto the cobblestones of the park, she stopped to massage her lightly throbbing temples, looked up and spotted an empty bench and made her way to it. She sat down heavily. Rosanna watched passersby with a distracted air until, bored, she closed her eyes—a decidedly daring action for the streets of New York City. 

She had never told either Solace or Matilda that she loved them. Whom did she love? She loved them both, but.. And where did Casey fit in? She knew the answer to that one--she simply lusted after Casey now. In the wake of Casey’s ten-year absence, the need to have her as a confidante had dwindled. She had Sam to fill that position and there was no sexual tension to get in the way. Her thoughts came to rest on their telephone conversation of the previous evening.

“Sam, you just don’t understand,” Rosanna said as she blew out an exasperated breath.

“I understand perfectly, dear. You want to have your cake and—“

“Stop right there, Sam. Why do we have so many sayings about eating something? You look good enough to eat; you’re gonna eat those words; having your cake and eating it, too… We’re such an orally-fixated society.” Rosanna leapt up from her couch and began pacing her living room.

“There’s nothing wrong with being oral, Rosie. I know I don’t have to tell you that. And don’t try to change the subject. Have you even thought of giving Solace the benefit of the doubt? You’re assuming she can’t take care of children. Have you even discussed the issue with her? Have you seen her dealing with kids? How do you know Miss Matilda will do any better?” Sam was the only person who was allowed to call her Rosie. All others paid dearly for uttering that syrupy-sweet moniker. .. 

“Well, it has to be easier, Sam. Don’t you think?” 

“What I think is that you should give Solace a chance and try to work on this instead of calling it quits and running off with that dreadful Harpie woman.” 

“Harper, Sam…Harper,” Rosanna corrected.

“Whatever,” Sam growled.

Sam’s dislike of Matilda was a source of annoyance between them. 

“She’s not dreadful. She’s organized, and punctual, and prepared for everything—just the way she should be.” Rosanna countered, stubbing her toe on a chair, releasing a silent expletive.

“And boring, and predictable and uncultured, and—“ Sam added.

“Matilda’s not uncultured, Sam. She goes to museums and photography shows. All the things I can’t share with—“ Rosanna cut her statement short…

“You are awful, Rosie Romero. You’re only seeing Solace’s shortcomings. What about her fantastic cooking, and singing, and dancing and creativity? Ms. Harpie doesn’t have a creative molecule in her entire body. She’s so…passive!” Sam shuttered as if the mere mention of the word gave him gooseflesh.

“Sam, I run a successful business that takes a lot of my concentration and effort. I need at least one aspect of my life to be simple.”

“Simple is boring, Rosie, and you know you would be climbing the walls. Solace is fun, and crazy, and talented and all those things a good gay woman should be!” Sam giggled.

“Sam, you are crazy! Why do I even try to discuss this with you? Can’t you even try to see where I’m coming from here?” 

“I refuse to go there, Ro, and I hope you turn around before it’s too late and you’re stuck with Harriet Harpie. I think she likes you just because you remind her of a strong, cute guy.” 

“You jerk! Matilda’s never been with any men.” Rosanna said indignantly. 

“No, but does she tap into your feminine side?” Sam asked.

“You’ve been reading too much of that pop-psychology crap, Sam. I don’t even tap into my feminine side,” Rosanna growled.

“You need to do that Ro. It’ll keep you sensitive and balanced. I am totally in tune with my feminine side and it helps keep my karma flowing in the right direction. 

“Spare me, Sam. We all know about your feminine side and we’re trying to avoid it at all costs. And where did you get the erroneous idea that you were in any way balanced?” Rosanna countered.

“Say what you want, but Solace balances you out. I get good vibes whenever we’re all together.. 

“Good vibes. On that note, I’m saying goodbye.” Rosanna picked up a pencil and snapped it in two, tossing the pieces in a nearby waste basket.

“Go ahead and run, but—“ Sam began, but Rosanna cut him off.

“And how’s Peter?”

“Touché. We can talk about him next time. I’m sure you have to get to bed and so do I. I have a big shoot tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you do. Goodnight, Sam.”

“Goodnight, Rosie.” Sam’s voice rang with merriment, belying the fact that he would be going to bed any time soon. Rosanna knew that he would be up for hours on his computer, chatting away. He had actually met some pretty suspicious characters, and Rosanna was forever sending up warning flares, which he steadfastly ignored. 

There was no way she was going to be able to sleep in her state of mind. Her eyes, alighted on her upright piano and she move towards it. She stroked its burnished cover. Pulling out the bench, she sat down and began to play a Mozart sonata. As her fingers glided over the keys, she felt a calmness wash over her. She played for two hours, ending one piece and launching into another until sheer exhaustion overtook her and she went to bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

Sam wore blinders when it came to Solace and it was useless to try to engage him in an objective conversation. She would have to make a decision for herself—and then she would ask her grandmother if she had made the right one. She waited impatiently for her return from Puerto Rico. Rosanna supposed she was suffering from the old cliché, which allowed for loving two people for different reasons. The fact that she was even thinking about love caused her to break out in a light perspiration. She had admitted it, though, and it was true. She did love Solace very much. The past month had been hellish. She also loved Matilda, but not enough upon which to build a life. But she had broken it off with Solace. Rosanna’s confetti-like thoughts coalesced into a single wish--she fervently longed for Solace to be fully sighted. This fact clouded Rosanna’s vision of their future. She wanted Solace to be able to share every aspect of her life, and she also felt that Solace needed to be able to see to care for their children. God, that had a wonderful sound—their children. She thrilled with the warm sentiment. She knew Solace was capable of doing almost anything she set her mind on, but she could not get beyond the child issue. Surely they must require two sighted parents. Rosanna had never seen blind parents, and she was having difficulty imagining the possibility. She felt someone standing over her and opened her eyes. She checked her watch; it was five o’clock sharp. Matilda stood above her, smiling faintly, her hair pulled away from her lovely face by an elegant headband.

“Hi there,” she said, her voice quiet and even. Rosanna hadn’t heard her approach. She could feel a blush creep up to the roots of her hair. Thankfully, Matilda could not read her traitorous thoughts.

“Hi,” Rosanna said as she got to her feet, pulled Matilda into an embrace and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She could feel Matilda stiffen, her eyes darting back and forth to see if anyone was around who might know her. 

“I came out, looked up and down the avenues, and spotted you. May I join you in your thoughts?” she said nervously. 

“Let’s walk down the park,” Rosanna said, side-stepping the question. 

Matilda felt the sting of rejection but decided to forge ahead.

“How was your day, Rosanna? How’s that new instructor working out?” She knew that this topic would be good for at least a few blocks. Butterflies danced in her stomach and she was not ready to launch into the real reason they were meeting.

“He’s…direct. I think his background in the military has affected him. He knows his stuff, but I think he doesn’t yet get that these are students and not recruits. I should never have trusted Debbie with the hiring.” Rosanna said through clenched teeth.

“But that’s why you pay her, Rosanna. She’s supposed to do that and she wouldn’t have hired him if she didn’t believe he was up to the job. You can’t do everything in the company. You’ve got to delegate responsibility and then trust that the right decisions will be made,” Matilda said reasonably. Her hands were behind her back, head slightly bowed and she spoke with finality as if this were a stance she had taken in the past or perhaps had been taken with her.

“You’re right, of course, but my gut feeling tells me that he’s going to be trouble and our reputation might suffer as a result.” 

“He’s on probation, right? Just have Debbie keep an eye on him and if he steps out of line, then you can step in and reprimand him or fire him, if need be.”

“You’re right again, Mattie. I just hate to see the students being treated as if they’re in boot camp. Getting Started With is about fun as much as learning, no matter how old you are,” Rosanna said with conviction. Her aim for GSW was to hire competent but fun and innovative instructors who fueled the students’ passion for learning through imaginative techniques.

“A little discipline never hurt anyone,” Matilda said off-handedly.

“You think it’s all right that he beat the students into submission?” an edge creeping into Rosanna’s voice.

“No. I just think that if they aren’t guided by a strong, firm hand, they won’t reach their full potential.” 

“Ah,” came Rosanna’s non-committal reply. Strike one. What would Matilda be like with their children?

Taking Rosanna’s reply for consent, Matilda looped her arm in Rosanna’s, who raised an eyebrow but kept walking. It was not like Matilda to be openly affectionate. She was always concerned with someone from her office finding out about her personal life. Rosanna chafed at this, but so far had kept her comments regarding being “out” to herself. 

Rosanna cared little for the reactions and opinions of others. The only people she wanted to please were her mother, her abuelita, and…Solace…and Mattie. Right? 

Snap out of it, Romero! Rosanna chided herself. You’re with Matilda and the two of you definitely need to talk. She stopped, turned to Matilda and took both of her hands in hers. 

“Let’s get a cab.” Rosanna walked to the curb, not waiting for Matilda’s reply. She hailed a taxi and ushered Matilda inside. The driver sped off before they had sufficient time to fasten their seatbelts and they were jolted back against the seat.

“I’m not sure we should be having such an important conversation in a restaurant, Rosanna.” Mattie said, her hands fumbling with the buckle.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Rosanna said agreeably, thinking it might be best if they weren’t near food or drink, which could be handily thrown at her.

“Why don’t we go somewhere neutral? How about that atrium area on fifty-seventh street under all those clocks? There are chairs there, and I’m sure we can find a seat that’s out of the way of other ears.” Matilda suggested.

“Great,” replied Rosanna and gave the driver the new address. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that when you got in? Now I have to—“ the driver complained.

“Look, we’re telling you now, okay? Don’t worry. We’ll pay the extra.” Rosanna said in a tone that made it clear that she was not in the mood to argue. 

Rosanna and Matilda located a seat in a corner of the atrium. For several minutes they simply stared at each other and around the vast space, neither wanting to be the first.

Matilda broke the silence, “Rosanna, I know that running out on you was wrong, but I was confused and I couldn’t take it that you had almost slept with your old high school friend. But I do love you and I want to make it work. We can make it work.”  

Oh God, she had said the word ‘love’. She loves me. How can I do this to her? “Mattie, I…I know you needed time, and I probably did as well, but…” Rosanna interrupted. She fiddled nervously with her wrist-watch as she spoke. 

Matilda cut her off.

“Rosanna, we can see the world, do anything, go anywhere. There are no 

limitations on what we can do. We have similar tastes and personalities. We’re perfect together.” 

As Rosanna listened to Matilda, certain phrases popped out at her. It seemed that Matilda was taking direct aim at Solace and her visual impairment. And I provided the ammunition so willingly.  I complained about Solace and then I slept with Matilda. What a piece of work I am! How am I going to get out of this without hurting Matilda? I used her. But a small voice whispered that they had used each other. She began again.

“Matilda, I…we… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leading you on. 

“What?” Matilda’s voice was quiet, but Rosanna noticed her hands were trembling.

“I love you, too, but… 

“You’re finally saying the words I want to hear, but I don’t think I want to hear the rest,” said Matilda, a slight tremor in her voice as well.

“I… This is not… I’ll just have to say it. Oh God, Matilda, I love you, but I’m not in love with you. Rosanna’s mouth felt as though it were filled with sand. She longed for a diet soda.

“Oh, you’re not in love with me. And I suppose that when we made love you weren’t in love with me. What was that, Rosanna? Was I just some amusing past-time or your latest plaything?” Matilda’s voice began to rise in volume and pitch.

“No. You know I’m not that kind of person, Mattie. We both enjoyed our lovemaking—“ Rosanna started, but was cut off.

“You mean our having sex then because you said you didn’t love me.” Said Matilda sarcastically.

“Mattie, I love so many things about you. In many ways, we fit perfectly together. But I don’t know. We… I need more.” Rosanna said as calmly as she could.

“More what? More women?”

“Not more women, just one woman.” Rosanna said softly.

“Ah…Solace. Is that it, Rosanna? You need Solace? Why do you need Solace? Does she make you feel like a big hero? Do you get your kicks helping a poor blind woman?” Matilda spat.

“Matilda, do not go there.” Rosanna’s voice was low and menacing. She could feel her anger rising like a wave.

“Oh, of course, you don’t want me to talk about her now. You only used me when you needed someone to spill your guts to about her.” Matilda rose, and began to gather her belongings. She had not wanted to think that Rosanna would break up with her, but that was exactly what was happening and she wasn’t going to stay here and be humiliated.

“Mattie, please.” Rosanna stood up as well. She reached out to put a hand on Matilda’s arm to delay her departure. The resounding slap to her face rang through the atrium and caused her to fall back into her seat. Heads turned to see from which direction the sound had come but just as quickly turned away. Rosanna sat stunned, holding her burning cheek.

“You bitch! Go back to your little disabled woman. I hope you’re really happy and have lots of little blind kids!” Mattie shouted, snatching up her bag and striding briskly away before Rosanna could rise to her feet and stop her. She also made a hasty retreat because she did not want Rosanna to see the tears stinging her eyes. She had let her temper get the best of her and had said some unforgivable words, which she knew would not be forgotten. 

Rosanna stood, straightened her suit jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder and walked slowly out of the atrium. It certainly had not gone as planned, but how did she think it would go? She had genuinely cared for Matilda but she felt compelled to do the honorable thing. Matilda wanted Rosanna’s heart, but that had been stolen by a beautiful, talented, sensuous, auburn-haired, lunatic. She now desperately required advice from her abuelita on how to get Solace Tynan back.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 20



2003: The homeless woman stared up at Solace’s window. Her bony fingers lightly gripped the handles of her ancient shopping cart, which contained her entire life. Her eyes blazed with determination. She wore a tattered tee-shirt with the phrase “Isn’t It Ironic?” emblazoned in large, red letters. Surprisingly, her jeans and sneakers were in relatively good condition for she had finally relented and used what little money she had saved to purchase them at a thrift shop. Her hair, however, resembled a matted bird’s nest perched atop her head and she intermittently scratched at her scalp to ease the incessant itching. Her thin frame and diminutive stature nearly rendered her invisible—until she spoke. Her shrill, stentorian tones could be heard for blocks as she bellowed her dire predictions. No small wonder passersby allowed her a good deal of room.

The woman could no more explain why she felt compelled to follow the drama of the people she had been shadowing for the past weeks than a cat could write its name. She only knew that she had awakened one morning with intense, overwhelming feelings, which caused her to roam the streets of New York City in search of total strangers who needed her particular guidance. She had made herself known to the rose and now she would see what reception she received from the one who gave comfort. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” a voice called, “Get outa here!”

She paid no attention and continued her vigil.

“Did you hear me? I said get outa here,” came the booming, insistent male voice.

The woman turned to see a tall, burly, bearded, man wearing glasses coming towards her. He wielded a newspaper and made as if to swat at her as if she were an insect. She rummaged in her shopping cart for the can of mace. Brandishing the weapon, she watched his approach. He stopped short, noticing the object in her hand.

“Hey! You can’t have that! It’s illegal. I’m gonna call the police.” He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. 

“I only want comfort here. I don’t want trouble. I don’t want trouble,” she stammered, waving the can in front of his face.

“Well, there’s no comfort for you here. Go to a shelter or some place,” snarled the man as he held the phone to his ear. 

“I have to give the rose comfort. That’s my job. I have to give the rose comfort. Comfort is here.” The woman shuffled nervously from one foot to the other, one hand on her can of mace, the other in a white-knuckle grip on her shopping cart.

“I told you. There’s no comfort here for you. Hello? Yes, I’d like to report a homeless person who needs to be escorted to a shelter. She’s being a nuisance.” 

“Liar!” shouted the woman. She had simply been standing there. She knew her rights. She had a right to be wherever she wanted as long as she wasn’t harassing anyone. That is what her case worker had told her, and she made a concerted effort to adhere to that rule. 

At that moment, Solace came hurtling down the steps, hair flying, white cane thrust out in front of her. She’d had to turn back three times because she had nearly left her apartment without her MYM identification card, her transportation card and, unbelievably, her dance shoes. She wore blue shorts, a white tank top and white sneakers, minus socks. Her dance bag was slung over her shoulders. She and Jessie had gone to their favorite cabaret, and she had slept late as a result of getting home at one o’clock in the morning. She was now in danger and dread of breaking one of Ardena’s most sacred rules. 

She heard the booming voice of Adam Hunter, her neighbor. What was he going on about now? She hoped she could just slip passed him without becoming embroiled in another of his rants. As her feet hit the pavement, she noticed someone standing in her way.

“Excuse me,” she said, trying to move to one side. The stranger blocked her path. “Excuse me,” she repeated, annoyance and impatience coloring her tone. 

“You are comfort. Your rose needs comfort,” came a firm, clear female voice.

“Don’t listen to her, Solace. She’s just a homeless woman. I was calling the police to have her taken to a shelter.” Adam piped up. He withdrew a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and mopped his perspiring forehead. The humidity was stifling and oppressive, but he was too self-conscious about his excessive body hair to wear shorts. He noted, with appreciation, Solace’s lovely even tan and fit physique. 

Solace barely heard Adam. Her mind fixed on the woman’s words. Did she know this woman? No, how could she? Adam had said she was a homeless person. 

She turned to him. “Adam, calm down or you’re going to have a heart attack or a stroke in this heat.” She turned to face the woman. “I don’t think I know you, but you seem to know me—at least you seem to be trying to tell me something. But I really don’t have the time to figure out what it is. I’m late enough already.” 

Had Adam not alerted her, Solace would not have known that the woman was homeless, for she could not see the disreputable state of her hair and clothes. She would simply have assumed that the woman was either on the way to or from a laundry facility. 

“Adam, leave her alone. Was she bothering you or something?” 

“No, but—“ Adam began lamely.

“She does have a right to walk the streets, you know.”

“She was staring up at your window, Solace. You never know what people are going to do these days. She could be psychotic. She should be in a place where she can get some help,” he said with conviction. Remembering his cell phone, he punched the END key and returned it to his pocket. It seemed the woman was making motions to leave.

“Adam, you’re a great block watchman, but I don’t think this woman is going to hurt me or anyone else. She just seems to have a message for me, which is really strange but--” Solace pressed her watch; she was going to have to run to the bus stop. She prayed she wouldn’t have to wait too long. She grimaced, imagining the looks of bewilderment she would receive as she jogged with her cane. “I have to go.” With that she trotted off down the block, leaving Adam to his righteous indignation. She could hear the creaky cart behind her. She felt her stomach give a little lurch. The woman was following her. Why? Hadn’t she relayed her message—something about comforting a rose? 

Adam lumbered, panting profusely, behind the woman and Solace. He wanted to see where she was going. He had appointed himself Solace’s bodyguard—at least in the neighborhood, and he felt it was his duty to see that she was safe from vagrants and muggers, if he was able. He turned the corner in time to see Solace hopping on the bus and the woman standing there, muttering. He watched her make her way up the block and hoped it would be the last time they crossed paths. 

Solace dashed into Make Your Moves. She waved a hasty greeting to Franz and ran to the locker room. She had five minutes before Ardena locked the door. She thought she probably should not have come, as she was unable to come early and learn any new steps. Please, let her do stuff I know today. She quickly disrobed and donned her dance outfit, unaware of the appraising stare she was receiving from Casey Deans, who was also late--again. Casey licked her lips as she watched Solace strip off her form-fitting shorts and tank. She briefly stood there, clad only in her bikini’s and bra, her smooth, taut body a sight to behold.  Casey could barely tear her eyes away long enough to put on her own dance gear. Solace’s creamy complexion, kissed with a hint of caramel, was positively mouth-watering. She was sorry to see Solace dress so hurriedly and was even sorrier that she could not undress her. She, too, placed her clothes in her locker and strode over to the now dressed woman.

“Hey, Solace. It’s Casey. I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s late today,” she called as she approached.

“Casey? You know, I don’t even know why I came today,” Solace said breathlessly. Without thinking, Casey took Solace by the arm and led her towards the door. Solace was surprised but said nothing and allowed herself to be escorted. They walked briskly towards the dance studio and arrived just as Ardena was marching towards the door, ready to lock it. Casey held up a hand and ushered Solace through the door.

“We made it, Ardena. You can’t lock us out,” Casey smiled triumphantly.

L.D. watched Casey escort Solace into the room. She knew Solace was capable of finding the room on her own. She became instantly suspicious. Where had they met? Had they come together at all? She would find out. She did not trust Casey. She had seen the open, hungry stares the woman had been giving Solace over the past weeks. Her internal fuming came to an end as Ardena called the class to order.

“Okay, folks. We’re going to have a short warm-up session because I want to get right into rehearsing. I also expect you all to book some time to come in and practice on your own. I’ll want to see your dances in two weeks--and they’d better be perfect. You know MYM not only depends on your fees, but on its patrons. You also know that you do not want to get up there and embarrass me—or yourselves. Nervous laughter exploded around the room.

Oh, thank God, Solace thought. She’s not going to do anything new. I’m saved. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

They ran through their warm-ups in record time and paired off with their respective partners. The next thing Solace felt was L. D.’s presence, followed by her strong, firm hand in hers.

“Are you ready, Solace?” she asked as she stood in front of her, waiting for their theme music..

“I think so. I enjoy the music to our dance so much; it’s so sensual.” Solace felt herself blush at this admission. She really should think about what she was going to say before she simply blurted it out. She stood there, uncharacteristically quiet, waiting to see what consequences her words would have—if any. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own and she had recently found herself fantasizing about Ms. L. D. Jansen. At these times, she would be torn between her feelings for Rosanna and the definite physical attraction she felt for L. D. She rationalized that it was the intimate nature of their performance. Ugh, life was just too complicated sometimes.

L. D. smiled and blushed in return, noting Solace’s casual use of the word sensual. For reasons she could not fathom, Solace’s presence reduced her to a mass of quivering lust, her eyes becoming slightly unfocussed and her body tingling from the roots of her hair to the tip of her toes. It was a delicious feeling and L. D. savored the moment when… What? There were few women who had produced such an intense reaction in the ultra-cool Ms. Jansen. They were both yanked back to attention by the sharp rap of Ardena’s stick and her calling of their names. 

“Are you two going to dance or stand there and discuss the moves?” Ardena asked sarcastically. The women had missed their entrance. Their instructor was a perfectionist and she would not tolerate inattentiveness in her dancers. She glared at L. D. since she knew the gesture would be totally lost on Solace. But she knew that Solace could hear the impatience in her voice.

Solace and L. D. snapped to attention and moved to the middle of the floor. Their music began and they went through their routine with only a few minor glitches.

“Not bad, but it needs practice, ladies. It has to be flawless and seamless. Set up some practice time during the next two weeks.” Upon delivering this edict, Ardena turned to see the next group who were assembled and ready to go as their music began. 

“Can you make any practice sessions this week, Solace?” L. D. asked hopefully.

“I’ll have to. If I know Ardena, she won’t let us perform if it’s not up to her standard.”

“How about Monday evening?” 

Solace checked her mental calendar and told L. D. that would work. 

“Shall I book the time here or do you want to do it?” she asked as they moved towards the exit. 

“I…have a dance studio in my apartment. We can work there…for nothing.” L. D.’s heart raced. She did not know whether Solace would feel comfortable working there, but she thought she should at least ask.

“Wow! Now that is too convenient.” Solace rolled the thought over in her mind and gave her answer. “That would be fine, L. D. I’ve never seen a private dance studio. It’ll be a new experience. 

L. D. released a silent breath of relief. She was going to have Solace Tynan all to herself—at least for a rehearsal. Feeling emboldened, she ventured, “Maybe we could have something to eat afterwards. Would that be possible, Solace?”

“You’ll be sorry, L. D. I eat like a cow after a dance workout.” Solace replied with a grin..

“I think I’ll be able to provide enough food for you from somewhere,” L. D. answered confidently.  

They arranged to meet at a common spot where L. D. would then take her to her apartment. Impulsively, L. D. leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Solace’s cheek. She thought she would have an orgasm right there in the middle of the corridor. 

For Solace’s part, she was surprised by the kiss, but not unpleasantly so. Her emotions swirled. The women parted with more than dancing on their minds. 

On Monday, L. D. prowled her favorite haunts, searching for cheeses, breads, and pastries, which she thought Solace might find delectable. She did not raid The Jansen’s wine cellar because she and Solace really did need to practice and alcohol would be counter-productive to that particular activity. Perhaps next time—and she desperately hoped there would be a next time. 

Solace met L. D. at the appointed bus stop. L. D. asked if she could take Solace’s arm but Solace gently refused the offer, saying she would be fine unless some unsuspecting pole decided to make her acquaintance. L. D. winced at the image. Becoming accustomed to Solace’s humor regarding her visual impairment would take some time. She did, however, take her arm once they reached The Jansen and Solace did not protest as her vision was next to nil in dim lighting. She was unable to see the expensive yet tastefully-appointed lobby or the raised eyebrow of John Dodge, the security officer. She was also unaware that L. D. was leading her to an elevator until she heard her press a button..

Solace’s senses immediately went into warp speed and she began to ramble, “Uh, L. D, why can’t we walk? I’m very good with stairs.” 

L. D. noted Solace’s mood change with mild surprise. “The elevator leads right to the studio. It’s faster and it’s only one floor down,” she answered, trying to reassure her guest. She took Solace’s hand; it was ice-cold. “Don’t worry, Solace. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not you. It’s the elevator. What if it stops or something?” Solace asked, her voice beginning to rise in pitch and intensity.

“That won’t happen. This elevator is very reliable. Don’t you ever take elevators, Solace?” 

“I try to avoid them as much as possible. I hate them. I have to use one when I go to my chorus and it still freaks me out after all these years.” Solace could feel beads of perspiration trickling down her blouse, causing it to stick to her. Goddess, get me through this with a modicum of dignity, she begged. 

The elevator arrived and L. D. gently prodded Solace inside and the doors closed silently behind them. L. D. pressed the button for the studio and…nothing. The car did not move.

“What’s happening?” Solace shrieked.

“It’s okay, Solace. Calm—“

“Heeeeelp!!!” Solace screamed before L. D. could get in another word.

“Solace, please.. We’re okay. L. D. was doing her best to stay calm because it was obvious that Solace was becoming completely unglued. Damned elevator!

“L. D., do something. Press a button. Do something!” Solace wailed, slumping to the floor.

Remembering, L. D. pressed the Door Open button and the doors slid open on their well-oiled track. Solace leapt up and flew out into the lobby.

“I am not getting back in there, L. D. I am not! Why didn’t it go down?” Solace was shaking furiously and she was having difficulty catching her breath.

L. D. crossed to her and placed a protective arm around the smaller woman’s trembling shoulders. “We were only stuck for a few seconds, Solace. We’re okay.” She soothed. L. D. looked up and glared at Dodge, who was boldly staring. She gave him a look that said “Say anything about this and you’re outa here”. Dodge moved back to the entrance thinking that Ms Jansen had her hands filled with this one and still wondered how she managed to find such beautiful women—even if they were hysterical.

“There is no such thing as seconds when you’re stuck in an elevator; time stands still.” Solace held on to L. D. She could feel her breathing slow and a sense of control return to her battered nervous system. 

“Okay, Solace. We’ll take the long way down.”

“Thank you.” Solace sighed as she took L. D.’s arm. They made their way down and around until they reached the elaborately decorated doors of the renovated ballroom. She flung open the doors and guided Solace into the cavernous space.

“You know, L.D. when you said you had a dance studio, I don’t think a room the size of the Roseland ballroom came to mind. This is amazing. Solace twirled around the floor and L. D. followed her. She took Solace’s hand and they did an impromptu Waltz around the polished floor. They followed the rhythm of their bodies and only stopped when they had run out of breath. Solace and L. D. stood there, breathing deeply, standing only inches apart. Indulging her fantasy and curiosity, Solace wound her arms about L. D.’s neck, drew her close and sought her lips. She could not help the fleeting comparisons to Rosanna, which she would think about later. The kiss began soft, tentative, and exploratory, and they melted into it as if sinking into marshmallow cream. As it became more urgent, L. D. nearly crushed Solace with the force of her wanton embrace. She was drowning in arousal and would have eased them onto the hardwood floor had Solace not withdrawn her lips. They stood again, panting and flushed. 

“I’m…I’m… We better practice. Is there somewhere I can change?” Solace said, fighting her own rising desire for her sensuous dance partner.

Finally coming to her senses as well, L. D. said, “Of course. I’ll show you…I’ll take you. It’s this way.” She led Solace to what was once a powder room. As Solace closed the door to the room to allow some measure of privacy, L. D. leaned against it. How am I going to do this? I want her so much. I’m not sure I can do this. Her inner voice commanded, “Of course, you can do this L. D. Get a grip. L. D. was thrilled, though, to find that Solace was also attracted to her. She wasn’t even bothered by the fact that Solace had made the first move. But in a way, she had started it by kissing Solace on the cheek. She knew they had both felt the fire and thrilled to think of the moments to come. She crossed the room with a confident swagger and prepared their music.

Solace emerged and they commenced practicing their routine. Rough spots were worked out until it was to their, as well as Ardena’s, high standards. They were unaware of the time until Solace pressed her watch and it announced the time to be 9:30.

“I’ve got to go.” Solace said as she reluctantly disengaged herself from L. D.

“Are you hungry? I have all kinds of goodies for you.” L. D. said, disappointed that the evening was coming to an end.

“I’m always hungry,” Solace said with a sly smile.

L. D. guided her to a table set with silver trays. She uncovered each, describing its contents and offering Solace a taste of each item. She held Solace’s fingers just a little longer than was necessary as she handed her each delicacy. The gesture was not lost on the other woman. True to her word and her appetite, Solace devoured almost everything in sight. 




Solace & Rosanna Ch. 20



While Solace collected her belongings, L. D. made a quick call to her staff to come and remove the trays. She then led Solace back up to the lobby where she turned and announced that she would be taking her home.

“L. D., that is not necessary. I’m going to take the bus.” Solace said firmly.

“Then I’ll take it with you.” L. D. countered.

“What is it with you sighted people?” Solace teased, “I’m a big girl, L. D. I’ll be all right.

“I’m sure that’s true, but please allow me the honor anyway, Solace.”

“Well…if you must. I’m too tired to stop you.”

Rosanna looked up from her book and froze.  A lump formed in her throat and she could not have uttered a coherent sentence if she’d tried. There was Solace paying her fare and taking a seat. And who was that woman in black with her? She dropped her book into her bag. Was Solace seeing someone already. The woman assumed a protective air, helping Solace into a seat and standing over her like a sentry. The urge to run up to the pair and punch the woman’s lights out was almost a palpable ache in Rosanna’s guts. She did not stop to think about how she had treated and cheated on Solace or that she was behaving with stereotypical Latin machismo and acting upon a double standard. Solace was with another woman and it made her innards feel as if they were being run through a blender. Her mind crumpled into irrationality. Only the fact that she was in a public place saved her from making an ass of herself. However, she decided to follow them. 

Rosanna’s eyes never left the pair. They seemed to be chatting amiably and the woman had put her hands on Solace’s shoulder several times. The paperback, which Rosanna had retrieved from its place in her bag, was now being systematically torn to shreds, some pieces landing on the floor of the bus. Passengers gave her sideways glances but said nothing for they did not want trouble and that is what Rosanna looked like at that moment.

The bus came to a stop and Rosanna realized that they were not far from Solace’s apartment. She saw Solace and the woman stand and exit the bus. Rosanna exited through the rear door. The pair made their way to Solace’s block, where they stopped, stood talking. Rosanna’s heart turned to stone as she watched the woman lean down and kiss Solace on the lips—and Solace did not pull away. In fact, she appeared to be enjoying it. Rosanna ran a hand through her now disheveled hair, turned on her heels and stormed down the block. She felt numb and nauseous. This is your fault, Romero. You let her go. 

The homeless woman watched the proceedings from the alleyway of a nearby apartment—out of sight of Adam, the watchdog.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 21



2003: “Leander, What the hell are you doing?” Casey shrieked in horror. She had stopped to check on Leander’s progress with the decorating. She thought it would be safe enough to leave him with the simple task of artfully draping blue streamers around the guardrail of the roof garden. She should have been more vigilant. How had he sneaked the hugest bag of cotton-balls she had ever seen passed her? 

In the ensuing weeks since they had decided to have the party, they had learned that they definitely had divergent tastes in terms of decorating. Leander wanted drama and glamour while Casey wanted casual and simple. Casey had thought they had reached a happy medium. But she now watched in disbelief, her mouth agape, while the man carelessly tossed cotton-balls on chairs, tables, the floor and on every available surface.

“I’m creating atmosphere, Case!” Leander said innocently, continuing to toss handfuls of the puffy, white globes. 

“Of what--an emergency room?” Casey returned sarcastically.

“No, silly. The cotton-balls are supposed to represent snowflakes. They were the closest things I could find. They’ll give people the illusion that it’s cooler. Have some imagination.”

“And when did we discuss an impending snowstorm, Leander?” Casey asked, arms on her hips. 

“Well, we didn’t—“he began.

“Exactly. Now pick up those damned balls! They’re gonna get all trampled on and stick to peoples’ feet and sandals. Can’t I trust you with anything?” Casey sighed in exasperation.

“I will not! We’re supposed to be working on this shin-dig together, Missy, and so far, all you’ve let me do is nod my head in agreement with your suggestions.” Leander said huffily.

“That is because my suggestions have been the best ones.”

“Says you!” Leander bellowed. “I don’t even know why I’m helping you with this. You obviously want to do it all yourself. You’re such a control hag.”

“Listen, Leander. This is my scheme and we’ll do things my way—this time. When you want me to help you lure someone in, we’ll do things your way. Okay?” She dropped the tablecloth and advanced on him menacingly, her fingers outstretched in tickle mode. Seeing what Casey had in mind, Leander ripped the bag open even wider and whirled around, the cotton-balls swirling out, flying and falling in every direction. 

“Leander!” Casey screamed. She reached out and began to tickle him. He squealed and doubled over under her merciless onslaught. He was hopelessly ticklish and Casey used this to her advantage. She wondered if Rosanna was still ticklish. This thought caused her to think about tickling Rosanna and having it lead to other more sensuous activities. She stopped abruptly. 

“Listen, Leander, if anyone has an accident because of your strewn balls, you are going to pay their medical bills,” Casey said, retrieving the tablecloth and spreading it over a long table they had rented for the occasion. “They’re going to be cool enough because it’ll be evening. They won’t need any illusions.”

Through gasps of breath Leander said, “Please! I think my balls are a nice touch.” They looked at each other, their eyes gleaming with mischief, and broke into hysterical laughter. 

“All right, but you’ve been warned.” Casey said, returning to her bare tables. The morning’s heat gave a hint of the sultry day to come and Casey decided not to press the issue. She had more important things to ponder—such as her choice of outfit, hair and makeup. All Leander would do was throw on a pair of shorts and a polo shirt. Where was the thought process in that?

Leander dumped the now empty cotton-ball bag into a large trash bin. He sauntered over to Casey, brushing stray cotton-balls from his curls, and began helping her with covering the remaining tables.

“Did you get the band?” he asked casually.

“Yes, I did. They came highly recommended,” Casey said without looking up.

“Really? By whom?” Leander asked suspiciously. 

“By Sedilla,” Casey muttered.

“Sedilla? Have you gone nuts? Sedilla doesn’t know the first thing about good music. She thinks elevator music is cool. What possessed you to ask her?” Leander shrieked. He groaned and flung a hand over his eyes.

“Well, we were talking and she said she’d gone to this cool concert given by this band, who handed out cards. She told them about the party and they gave her a reasonable price—“ Casey did not get a chance to finish.

Leander dropped his end of the tablecloth. “I bet that’s all you heard—reasonable. I can’t believe you entrusted a party so important to that nut! Okay. You are nuts!” 

“Come on, Leander. Have a little faith. Sedilla’s taste in music isn’t that bad. She just tends to go towards the schmaltzy stuff. Besides we do want them to be a bit on the romantic side. I am trying to catch Ross. Remember?” She decided not to mention that the group’s name was Light 106, which was a play on an easy-listening station. 

“The woman is tone-deaf and you entrust her with providing the music. Well, all I can say is you better start praying to whatever deity you believe in because I’m sure we’re going to need some divine intervention.” 

“She is not tone deaf, Leander. She can’t be; she sings in a chorus.” Casey countered.

“And has she ever invited you to a performance, Casey?

“Well…no, but—“

“I rest my case—so to speak.” Leander picked up his end of the tablecloth snapped it, wrenching it from Casey’s hands. They might as well have been a comedy act and it was only by sheer willpower that they were able to complete the final preparations for the evening.

Casey dabbed Jasmine oil behind her ears, on her wrists and between her cleavage. She stepped back surveying herself in the full-length mirror affixed to the closet door. She smiled at her reflection. Rosanna would have to be unconscious not to respond to what Casey considered a pretty sexy package. Her outfit consisted of a strapless powder-blue sundress, high-heeled sandals, which she hoped she’d could dance in, if not, she would kick them off). She had piled her thick auburn hair up in an elegant bun with combs, leaving loose strands framing her face. She thought this style might serve two purposes: to look great and to keep her cool. She applied light makeup as she knew she would be lucky if it lasted for half the evening. Casey wanted to dazzle her Rosanna as the object of her lust came through the entrance to the roof garden. Merely thinking of Rosanna caused her to want to throw herself on to her bed and indulge in one of her favorite activities with her little buddy. There was, however, no time for that. With a little luck, and some heavy flirting, the delectable Ms. Romero would be hers for the taking. She grinned wickedly at the thought of seeing Rosanna in summer attire. She bounced up and ran to her kitchen to retrieve a bottled water.

Casey’s intermittent e-mails and phone calls over the past months had paid off. Rosanna had finally relented and decided to attend the B-party, as she and Leander had dubbed it. Casey’s initial attempts to lure Rosanna to her apartment were met with terse responses and adamant refusals. Casey was nothing if not persistent. She promised, pleaded and played on their high school friendship. The last tactic had turned out to be the best one. They reminisced about old teachers, students and escapades and realized why they had been such good friends in the first place. 

Although Leander had warned Casey several times about inviting Solace to the party, she could not resist the evil streak that ran through her. She knew it was wrong to involve Solace but she thought it would definitely add a bit of spice to the evening’s proceedings. Always one to leap first and then look, she did not think of the consequences of the two women meeting for she did not know the extent of their relationship. Leander had simply told her that Rosanna had called Solace’s name as she dropped off to sleep--or something like that. Leander was such a drama hound, though. They were probably nothing more than good friends. The fact that she had not mentioned the presence of either woman to the other did not weigh heavily on Casey’s conscience at all.

Leander vigorously shook first one then the next four containers. He grinned as he thought of the contents in the lovely decanters. His great grandmother’s recipe would certainly liven up the party. He hadn’t made it in a while so he was careful to follow the directions to the letter as he wanted it to have a kick but not deliver a blow that would render the unsuspecting individual unconscious. He was, however, aware of the drink’s addictive nature. He would make a sign, warning party-goers of the potency of the potable and he and Casey would have to make sure no one who had the drink would be driving home. All that would be taken care of once he got dressed. He planned to wear his new khaki walking shorts, a blue tank top and sandals. He had been working out and wanted to show off what muscle definition he was developing. He sighed as he posed and flexed in the mirror. At least Casey had agreed upon the blue theme. He suddenly grimaced when he thought about the music. Good grief, they’d be fortunate if Sedilla’s group played even one decent dance tune. He should have insisted that Casey let him pick the band. Leander sighed in resignation. He stopped suddenly, trying to remember if he had told Casey about his special brew. Oh well, no matter. It would be a crowd-pleaser for sure anyway.

L. D. growled as she donned the navy blue slacks and matching sleeveless shirt. Navy blue was at least close to her beloved black. She was also trying out a new hairstyle, with a bang falling rakishly over her left eye rather than brushing it all back. Why she was going to this ridiculous blue party she could not fathom, but secretly she hoped that Solace would be there. Only the light at the end of this blue tunnel would make the event worth attending. Casey had casually mentioned that she had invited Solace, but that she was going to get back to her to let her know if she could definitely be there. As L. D. had not wanted to drop her cool façade in front of Casey, she had simply smiled and affected an air of nonchalance upon hearing this news. Inside, however, everything was fluttering and beating wildly. 

Since their first heated kiss, they had shared several of similar intensity, but Solace had not allowed L. D. to go further even though the heat and passion between them was incredible. L. D. was aware that she could not continue to rehearse and perform with Solace for too much longer without making love with her. She picked up a black handkerchief and wiped her forehead. She did not wear makeup, so she did not have to worry about smudging it. 

L. D. walked over to her answering machine and pressed play to listen to her messages. Matilda wanted to have lunch with her. She would call her later. She thought, with mild interest that she had neglected to tell Matilda about her invitation. Had she merely forgotten? Well, she and Matilda had not had one of their sessions in about a year. They seemed content to simply exchange e-mails and phone calls. That was fine for L. D. She was certain that Matilda had moved on to someone else—someone she could mold into her image of perfection. L. D. was certainly not that person.

Solace ran to unlock the door to her apartment, narrowly missing a cushion as she scrambled back to her bathroom for some last-minute touch ups. All Jessie saw was a blur of blue and white cotton followed by Solace’s wild mane fanning out behind her as her friend dashed into her bedroom.

“Well, at least you’re dressed. That’s something,” Jessie said as she dropped into her favorite cushion. Bizarrey the Cat appeared and jumped onto her lap for their usual petting session. Jessie sighed thinking that she would now have to brush any stray cat fur off her blue slacks. She did, however, stroke the soft little head and received purrs of contentment from the friendly feline.

Solace emerged and twirled in front of Jessie. She wore a white sundress with spaghetti straps and tiny blue flowers. The dressed flared slightly at the waist and looked cool and comfortable. Solace had wrestled her unruly locks into a ponytail and wore blue low-heeled sandals. She decided against wearing any makeup as it was just too warm. 

“How do I look, Jess?” she asked breathlessly.

“Great. Are you after someone?” She asked suspiciously. Jessie moved and Bizarrey the Cat scampered from her lap. She stood, brushed her slacks and straightened her blue and white striped tee-shirt. She checked her white clogs for smudges, noticing none and awaited Solace’s reply.

“No, but if the opportunity presents itself, who’s to say? I’ve decided to try to enjoy life again and not wait around for Rosanna to call me. She’s not coming back and I am not going to spend any more time pining over her.” Solace’s stomach tightened at the thought of her lost love, and she made a valiant effort to maintain her composure. 

“Okay. Well, let’s go,” announced Jessie. “Do you have all your stuff, Solace? Do we need to look for anything? Please say you have everything together.”

Solace’s mind flashed on Rosanna and her many attempts to organize her life. She picked up a small shoulder-bag, where she had tried to remember to put everything she might need. 

“Unbelievably, I think I’m ready? Do you see my cane?”

“What?” Jessie screeched.

“I’m just kidding. Keep your tee-shirt on, which is really nice, by the way My cane’s by the door. Let’s go.” 

It was only once they were on the bus that she remembered that she had forgotten to leave extra food for Bizarrey. Now, she would worry all evening. Had she left any food? Oh brother! I’m a horrible mother! She wouldn’t stay too long.

Rosanna boarded the downtown bus on her way to Casey’s place. Her royal blue shorts and white sleeveless shirt showed off her smooth coffee-colored complexion and well-muscled physique to maximum advantage. She garnered quite a few admiring stares from both male and female passengers but was oblivious to all. As she searched for a seat, locating one in the rear, her mind flashed back to the night she had seen Solace kissing the woman in black. She had raced home in a blind rage and punished her body on her exercise machine and her fingers on her piano until she had collapsed exhausted. She had to stop thinking about that fateful night. Her mind betrayed her, however, each time she stepped on a bus. The image of the woman hovering over Solace in such a possessive stance caused her blood to boil and her temples to throb. This was not the attitude she wanted to foster when going to a fun beach party. She huffed and willed the unbidden thoughts to disperse. She calmed her breathing and sat holding the beautifully wrapped bottle of white wine she would give to Casey. She would do her best to enjoy herself this evening. Casey was a character and Rosanna was certain that she and her friend, Leander, would make sure that everyone had a great time.

Upon her grandmother’s return to New York, Rosanna had pounced on her for advice. She had also told her about the unsettling encounter with the homeless woman. Her grandmother had listened patiently and offered these words.. 

“Rosita, you must go after Solace if she is the one in your heart. She seems to be. That Matilda was an unnecessary distraction and now you have hurt her as well. Why do you want to cast aside those you love? Don’t let your doubts cloud your judgment or your future. Solace won’t wait for you forever, mija. You did a strange thing by letting her go and now you’re miserable. And now you must do all you can to get her back. You won’t be content until you do.” Rosanna had thought, but I don’t want to be hurt again either.

It had taken Rosanna several weeks to gather the courage to face Solace and then she had seen her with that woman. She would have to forget what she had seen and remember that she loved Solace. For now, she would drink and dance and have a good time.

Light 106 arrived two hours early to check out the space and set up their equipment. 

“We need to become a part of the space,” mumbled the lead guitarist, who could easily have doubled as a male model, his chiseled features almost feminine in appearance. Casey and Leander looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

Ah chew! The lead vocalist, a pretty African-American woman with dread-locks, admitted to having a bad head cold, which she swore she could “sing through”. “I’b taking bassive doses of zinc, so I should be okay,” she said through an obviously stuffy nose. She grabbed a handkerchief from the breast pocket of the guitarist and blew her nose with a resounding honk. Leander and Casey tried to conceal their giggles.

“Do we get food, too?” asked a large, beefy young man while setting up a drum set.

“Of course,” Casey answered.

“Cool, ‘cause I’m starved. Do we have to wait until after the gig or can we help ourselves now?” He left his preparations and headed for the tables.

Before Casey or Leander could respond, the bass player boomed,

“We have to tune, people. We have to practice.” He then directed his attention to Casey and Leander. Do you have anything you’d like us to play—a special song?”

“Well, we—“ They began but were interrupted by a surprisingly loud belch coming from the drummer. He was in the process of piling a plate high with appetizers.

“Put that plate dowd, Ian.” croaked the singer. “We’ll eat after the gig.”

“But what if there’s nothing left?” whined Ian. His band mates glared at him and he slunk back to his drum set, sitting heavily on a small stool that seemed incapable of holding such a large individual.

Through this exchange, the keyboardist said nothing. He looked to be of Asian extraction with shoulder-length black hair and intense black eyes. Everyone jumped as he sounded a loud chord.

“I’b gonna save by voice till I have to do it for real,” announced the singer. She sat down, put on a pair of headphones and commenced to make sounds possibly only heard by visitors to an aquarium. Casey and Leander stared in horror.

“She’s just vocalizing,” provided the bass player.

“I am going to kill Sedilla.” Casey muttered. Leander simply stared at her and then the members of Light 106. They strummed a few chords, tweaked some knobs and pronounced themselves ready. 

Leander disappeared to enhance the punch with his recipe and Casey went to greet their arrivals. She had left instructions to the roof garden at the desk. She could not believe that Solace and her guest would walk up the stairs, but she left those directions as well. 

People began trickling in at about five-thirty. To Casey’s pleasure, so far everyone was dressed in some form of the theme color. When L. D. arrived, Casey was shocked to see that she had actually deigned to wear blue and she looked excellent. The new hairstyle was also noted. She pulled the woman close to her for a peck on the lips. L. D. was polite, but extricated herself before Casey could take advantage of the greeting. She headed for the bar, fixed herself a drink and sat in a secluded corner to watch the arriving guests. She sprang to attention as Solace entered—with a lovely African-American woman. Oh Goddess, Solace looked so beautiful. She would have to get over the burst of hot jealousy that was simmering and ask her to dance, but first she would observe. Was it horrible that she did not make herself known to Solace right away—knowing that Solace would not know she was there? She was unsure of the etiquette and sat frozen—her drink forgotten.

The roof garden quickly filled and the band began to play. There seemed to be something not quite right about the music, but L. D. could not put her finger on it. She decided that they were not quite in sync. It was as if they were separate instrumentalists. And where was the singer? 




Solace & Rosanna Ch. 21



“Oh my God, that band is not quite with it,” Solace shouted in Jessie’s ear.

“Girl, you’re telling me. Let’s get something to eat. I don’t think I can take that sound on an empty stomach. She grabbed Solace’s hand and led her to the long, laden tables.

As Rosanna came through the entrance, Casey, shedding all pretense, pounced on her and planted her lips on hers. She wrapped her arms about her neck and pulled her close, crushing the box with the wine between them.

“Hey there, Casey. Take it easy. You’re gonna smother me,” breathed Rosanna as she pushed Casey gently, but firmly, away. “You promised you’d be good.” 

“I know, but you’re so sexy, Ross. I couldn’t help myself. I’ll try to behave,” Casey said with a wicked wink. “Do you mind getting me some more punch, Ross? I still have a few more guests to greet.” She thrust her empty glass at Rosanna who took it in her free hand, almost slipping in the process.

“Uh, Casey, why do you have cotton-balls on the floor?” she asked.

“Oh, that was Leander’s idea. He thought people would feel cooler if they thought it was snow. I tried to warn him, but-” she broke off.

“Ah-ha,” Rosanna replied and made her way to the table holding a large assortment of drinks—from innocent soft drinks to one with a sign that read: “Drink Me—at your own risk!” It was the only drink in a punch bowl, so she figured that it must be the libation that Casey desired. She unwrapped her bottle of wine and placed it on the table next to other wines. She picked up the punch ladle and half-filled Casey’s glass. Anything with a sign like that must be lethal and she wasn’t going to be responsible for her friend making a spectacle of herself. She turned and nearly spilled the drink. She leaned against the table for support. There sat Solace with Jessie. At that moment Jessie looked up and saw Rosanna. She gave her what could only have been the evil eye and went back to talking with Solace.

From her relatively secluded spot, L. D. watched the exchange. It seemed that the two attractive women knew each other but were not happy to see each other. As horrible as the band was, it was about to get worse as the singer took the microphone and proceeded to sing slightly out-of-tune with her band mates, who did not seem disturbed by the dissonance.

L. D. stood up and strode over to Solace and her companion. 

“Hi Solace,” she said. “It’s great to see you here.”

“L. D.? Wow. Same about you,” Solace said flushing a bit.

“May I join you and your friend?” L. D. asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. L. D., this is Jessie Davis. Jessie, this is L. D. Jansen, my dance partner.—the one I told you about?” 

“Nice to meet you, L. D.” replied Jessie.

“Pleasure,” said L. D. as she retrieved a chair.

“Jessie and I went to college together. She’s an aspiring Broadway composer and you know I’m a starving singer, L. D.” It occurred to L. D. that she had never heard Solace sing.

Rosanna took Casey’s drink to her as if she were in a dream. She watched as the woman in black (now in navy blue) went over and sat next to Solace. She wanted to leave, but she was compelled to stay to see how this drama would play out. She supposed she could go to Solace, but Jessie’s look had been so withering, it melted her confidence. She was momentarily saved by Casey stumbling towards her, grabbing her arm and dragging her to the dance floor. Casey actually wanted to dance to this awful music. How could she? Rosanna hesitated briefly but decided to do it to try to get her mind off the impending urge to hit someone. And, unbelievably, other couples were in the middle of the floor, swaying limply. I think Casey has had a bit too much of that punch, she thought as she tried to hold up her friend, who had begun to sag heavily on her shoulder. She then found herself holding onto Casey for support as Solace began to glide gracefully with the woman in navy. She hadn’t even known that Solace was such an excellent dancer. The woman held Solace close and they moved synchronously. She then bent her head, kissing Solace first on the cheek and then moving toward her lips. Rosanna held Casey in a death-grip.

“Hey, I thought you didn’t want to get physical, Ross. You’re gonna crush me,” came Casey’s slurred voice. What the hell was in that punch, she thought. It was delicious, but strong as hell and her stomach was beginning to revolt. She could not remember if she’d eaten. 

“I’m sorry, Casey,” Rosanna stammered as she relaxed her hold.

The kiss was brief but long enough for Rosanna to know she would have to cut in. She led Casey to a chair and returned to the dance floor.

“Excuse me. May I?” Rosanna asked the taller woman.

L. D. saw who it was and she figured it would be the decent thing to do, even though she hated to let Solace go.

“Just this time,” she said with mock sternness as she stepped back. Rosanna’s eyes flashed briefly and she gathered Solace into her arms.

Solace knew the voice but could not trust her ears. She knew for sure when she caught Rosanna’s signature fragrance. .She began to tremble uncontrollably as Rosanna pulled her close. She wanted to cry; she wanted to scream; she wanted to kiss her; she wanted to slap her. All she could do right now, though, was sway with Rosanna to the out-of-step rhythm of Light 106. Rosanna stroked Solace’s back as they swayed, reveling in the feel of her warm skin. And, oh dear Goddess, she smelled exquisite. How could I have let her go? How? I won’t let her go again.

L. D. soon understood that this woman was no mere dance partner. They knew each other--probably intimately by the way the woman was stroking Solace’s back and hair. She could see that Solace was trembling and anger welled up in L. D. like a geyser. Who was this stranger and what had she done to Solace? She stalked over and placed a hand on Rosanna’s shoulder. Rosanna whirled around at the contact.

“I think your time is up,” said L. D. in a quiet, menacing tone. “I think you’ve upset Solace.”

“I think you don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Rosanna, matching the woman’s tone. 

L. D. turned to Solace, “Solace, is this woman bothering you?”

Solace seemed to come out of her trance. “No, I mean, we know each other, L. D. This is Rosanna Romero. We’re… We were together… I mean, we’re not now, but…” She disengaged herself from Rosanna’s arms and stood apart from them. Jessie came to stand by her. She put a protective arm around her shoulder.

“Rosanna, you have some nerve barging in as if you’re Miss Innocence. You broke her heart.

“Jessie!” Solace hissed.

“I…I…I didn’t mean…” Rosanna began.

“L. D., I don’t know where you fit into all of this but if you hurt Solace, I’ll have to go after you as well.”

It seemed to L. D. that she had heard this speech before. She faced Solace.

“Solace, I’ll see you at rehearsal. She turned on her heels and left the group. Her anger was such that she could not trust herself not to do something rash. She had not quite reached the door to the garden when she heard the sounds of someone being really sick.

Casey was leaning over a fake plant, relieving her innards of Leander’s lethal concoction. Rosanna rushed to her side, followed by Solace, Jessie, and Leander. 

“I guess she had a bit too much of the recipe,” Leander said lamely.

“What was in that stuff?” Jessie asked.

“It’s an old family secret, which I can only reveal if I’m being tortured.” 

“It’s a good thing her hair’s up.” said Rosanna, stroking Casey’s back. She thought back on the three significant women who had tossed their cookies in her presence. She might develop a complex. It must be that doctor gene in me. Thanks, mom.

“I’ll take her downstairs,” said Leander.

“I’ll help you,” offered Rosanna.

L. D. held the door for them as they carried Casey to her apartment and put her to bed, completely oblivious to the drama that had unfolded at the party that was supposed to snag her Ross. 

Rosanna and L. D. briefly glared at each other, but said nothing. Solace and Jessie remained on the roof.

“Now what are you going to do, Miss Solace?” asked Jessie. “You have two women salivating after you, and I can’t even find one good man to throw his shoes under my bed. Life is so not fair!”

“I don’t know,” answered Solace vaguely, thinking back on how good it felt to be back in Rosanna’s arms, however briefly. 

“Well, you’d better think of something because here comes Ms. Romero and she looks ready to scoop you up like ice-cream.” Jessie pronounced as Rosanna approached with a purposeful step, Leander on her heels.

“Sol…I…we…need to talk.” Rosanna blurted out.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to you, Sanna. You’ve caught me completely off guard. 

“Please, Sol. Please talk with me,” Rosanna pleaded, taking Solace’s hand. 

Solace turned to Jessie. “I’ll go with Sanna. If she wants to talk, I guess I’ll listen and then I’ll beat her over the head with my cane,” she smiled weakly. Rosanna took Solace’s arm. They gathered their things and left the roof garden.

Leander turned to Jessie. “Hi, I’m Leander, Casey’s friend. I was with Rosanna one day when her bike was almost stolen. Oh, and I’m a writer.”

“Hi. I’m Jessie, earpiece to Ms. Solace Tynan, and I’m a music transcriptionist and would-be Broadway musical composer.” They smiled and shook hands each taking in the attributes of the other.

Out on the street, Rosanna took Solace in her arms and kissed her passionately. She did not see the woman in the shadows, with the shopping cart, smiling broadly. 

As they parted, Rosanna placed her forehead on Solace’s and said, “Sol, I was wrong, so wrong.

“Yes, you were Sanna.” Came Solace’s simple reply.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 22



2003: Tears ran unaware and unchecked down L. D. Jansen’s face as she watched from her shadowy alcove as the stranger first embraced and then kissed the lips of the woman she had hoped to make her own. The tears were accompanied by a persistent ache in her abdomen, as if she’d been punched, but she could not turn away. Anger rose, but died just as quickly. With whom could she be angry--Solace, the stranger, herself? She had, in essence, pursued Solace. The fact that there seemed to be a shared chemistry between them was probably nothing more than coincidental. Although the evening retained much of the day’s heat and humidity and perspiration was beading on L. D.’s forehead, she could see that the woman (what was her name, Rosanna?) was holding Solace so close that there was little room between their bodies. It seemed almost indecent to be ogling such an intimate moment. 

A creaking sound made L. D. turn her head slightly. She watched warily as a thin figure pushing a shopping cart moved towards her. She narrowed her eyes and could make out the face of a woman with a thatch of wild hair. She stiffened and her fingers clenched into fists. Her mood was foul; and she did not desire it to be tested by one of New York’s unfortunates. She made to back up but it seemed the woman’s eyes were boring into her soul and she felt powerless against allowing her to invade her space and grief. The cart slowed as the woman drew nearer. L. D. swiped at her forehead with the tips of her fingers. Her leg began its annoying twitching and she placed a hand on it, but it was useless. The trembling persisted. 

“Your money cannot acquire this treasure,” came the uncharacteristically soft voice of the woman. Her breath held the sweet odor of peppermint. L. D. could see that she held an object in her hands. What was it—a can? 

“Go away,” snarled L. D.

“You will not find comfort here. You will only find comfort on the dance floor,” replied the woman, ignoring L. D.’s threatening tone. She raised the hand holding the can so that L. D. could see the label. Ignoring the large block letters spelling out the word MACE, L. D. advanced, planting her taller frame directly in front of the bedraggled stranger.

“I will find comfort whenever, wherever and with whomever I choose,” she hissed, “Now, get out of here before I—“ she raised her hand but was hit with a caustic cloud. Instantly, her eyes began to burn and water and she began to cough violently. She thought she might choke or lose the contents of her stomach. Right now, though, L. D. did not care. Frantically, she removed a handkerchief from a breast pocket and began dabbing at her eyes which felt as if they had been set on fire. The bout was so noisy, she did not hear the voices of the women who came to see if they could help someone who was obviously in distress.

The women heard what seemed to be uncontrollable coughing and retching. Solace disentangled herself from Rosanna and began moving in the direction from which the horrible sounds emanated. Rosanna, being more cautious but having no intention of allowing Solace to walk into a situation alone, took her arm and headed them in the direction of the emergency.

As they neared the source, Rosanna recognized the outfit of the woman in black. Her brows knit in confusion. She thought she had left earlier and would be on her way to her next destination. Why was she here in the shadows? Suspicion welled up in Rosanna’s mind. Solace would, of course, have no idea who the stranger was until she spoke, which she seemed incapable of doing through her hacking and choking.

“Do you need helped?” Solace questioned, concern evident as she reached out a hand to where she thought the woman might be standing.

“I…I….I…think I’m okay,” L. D. gasped. She had never been attacked in this fashion and it galled her immensely that her usually excellent instincts and reflexes had failed her. She also realized, with a mixture of disbelief and trepidation that Solace and Rosanna were coming to her rescue. Could this evening get any more bizarre? It also became painfully clear to L. D. that she could not see. She moved her hands in front of her eyes and almost fainted. It was as if a curtain had been drawn, blocking out all light. She let out an involuntary moan of distress.

“What’s the matter?” asked Solace.

“Solace, I can’t see!” L. D. wailed. “I didn’t know that pepper spray could do that.” Now, not only was her leg trembling, but her entire body began to shake uncontrollably. She thought she might hyperventilate. Her cool exterior was rapidly cracking and she felt hysteria wrapping itself around her like a black cloak. She had never been deprived of her sense of sight and it frightened her more than any words could express.

Solace found L. D.’s hand, Without breaking contact with her frightened dance partner, she looped her arm around L. D.’s slim hips. 

“You’re going to be all right, L. D. I’m sure it’s just a severe reaction to the spray. I’ve never heard of anyone actually going blind from a mace attack. Solace said this with more confidence than she possessed for she knew next to nothing about the side-effects of the poison. She did, however, know that they needed to get L. D. to an emergency room as soon as possible to assess the damage. 

“Sanna, put your arms around L. D. We’re going to need to support her. She’s not too steady on her feet.”

Solace’s words jolted Rosanna out of her momentary inertia. She had stood by watching L. D.’s rising panic. She heard the dreaded three-word sentence and realized that the warm night air was doing nothing to stave off the chill of fear that made its way unbidden up her spine. She had known and loved Solace for five years and had never actually pondered what it would be like to be a blind person. She had simply accepted the fact as a part of Solace, only ever thinking about the many ways Solace went about her daily activities. Seeing a sighted person instantly become blind shook her to her very core for she took her ability to see for granted. 

Rosanna moved woodenly to L. D.’s other side and, making an immense effort to push aside her feelings of intense jealousy and suspicion, looped her arm about the woman’s waist. 

“We should take her to Lenox Hill Hospital. They’re closer,” Solace announced.

“Whatever you say, Sol” They made their way to the corner where Solace left L. D. in Rosanna’s strong arms and hailed a taxi. 

L. D. was aware that she was being propelled forward, but her mind raced with dire possibilities and she found it difficult to stay in the moment as a black future loomed before her. She thought how ironic it was that she was so fond of the color black. Now that it was all she could see, she hung her head in dismay. It also did not escape her that she was being held up by her rival, but this fact seemed completely insignificant in the face of her despair.

As they entered the cab for the short ride, Solace tried to get L. D. to recount the incident. The only sentences she continued to utter concerned the fact that she could not see.

“Everything is black, Solace. How can I dance with you? How can I guide you?” L. D. moaned.

Rosanna stiffened in the seat next to her and quietly fumed.

“Don’t worry about that, L. D. We’ll be able to dance and you won’t have to worry about guiding me. I know the moves. You know that.”

“But I have to make sure that you don’t get hurt,” L. D. rambled. Words seemed to be tumbling out of her of their own volition.

“L. D., can you tell us what happened?” Solace tried again. 

The fog began to lift from L. D.’s shocked brain and she stammered, “There was a homeless woman. She said my money couldn’t buy comfort. I just wanted to… I wouldn’t have hurt her. I wouldn’t have hurt her.” She dropped her head in her hands running her fingers through her hair, pushing the bangs away from her forehead; the strands lay in tangled disarray. 

Solace and Rosanna gasped at the mention of a homeless woman. Rosanna noted Solace’s reaction and asked, “Did you meet a homeless woman with a shopping cart, Sol?”

Solace responded in a soft, hesitant voice. “She said something about a rose, but I was on my way to rehearsal and then I forgot all about it.”

“She told me I needed solace, but I thought it was just a coincidence.” Rosanna said, in an equally quiet tone. 

Their minds drifted back to their respective conversations with the woman with the birds’ nest hair. 

As they pulled up to the entrance to Lenox Hill Hospital, Rosanna paid the driver. L. D. made a feeble attempt to reach for her wallet, but Solace grabbed her firmly and told her not to worry about it this time.

The women ushered L. D. through the doors of the emergency room. A security guard, in an ill-fitting uniform, rushed towards them.

“Ms. Jansen. What happened?” he huffed in exertion.

“She’s had an accident.” Rosanna offered.

The guard directed his next question to L. D., ignoring Rosanna. “Should I call your mother?”

“No. Thank you. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry her, please.” L. D.’s said in a calmer tone. Her initial panic and horror about going blind was abating as she found that she could at least discern the bright lights of the waiting room through an opaque haze. 

“Can she be seen right away?” Solace interrupted. “She’s been sprayed with mace, and her eyes seem to have been severely affected. She can’t see.” 

The guard noticed the white cane in Solace’s hand. He moved toward L. D., trying to take L. D.’s hand, but Solace would not allow him to wedge himself between herself and the woman. She waved her cane as if to strike him. Rosanna stifled a giggle that was attempting to erupt. Solace seemed determined to use her cane as a weapon. Rosanna thought she’d better be on her guard before the avenging Solace turned her innocent mobility device on her.

An attractive woman with shoulder-length brown hair (streaked with gray) wearing a white lab coat appeared. “L. D., it’s Doctor Rios. What’s happened?” She gently extricated L. D.’s arm from Solace’s vise-like grip and guided her, with Rosanna’s help, to an empty examination room. Solace turned to the guard and gave him what she hoped was her most menacing glare. He gave her a dull stare, puzzled that she seemed to be staring him right in the face. How could that be? She was blind…wasn’t she?

“Let’s take a look at those beautiful eyes.” As the doctor shone a bright light in her eyes, L. D. winced but felt a rush of elation as well. 

“Did I hear someone say you were sprayed with pepper spray? I thought that stuff was illegal.”

“It is,” growled Rosanna, moving to stand by Solace.

As the doctor examined L. D., she discovered that there was irritation but no permanent damage to her eyes. She relayed the news efficiently and swiftly to allay her patient’s fear. Three women breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Do you have someone who can stay with you tonight, L. D.? I’m going to prescribe a drop, but you might want a friend to help put them in, and I don’t want you home alone, just in case.” She looked at Solace and Rosanna, who looked at each other.

“I can take care of myself.” L. D. added with false bravado.

“I’ll stay---“ Solace said, placing a hand on L. D.’s knee.

“We’ll stay with her, Doctor. I hope you have room for two, Ms. Jansen.” Rosanna chimed in, noting Solace’s gesture.

Solace was no more than a blurry shape before her, but L. D. turned towards her. “Solace, I live in a penthouse apartment. You’ll have to take that elevator again, up to the seventeenth floor.”

“Doctor Rios, may I have a tranquilizer, please?” Solace asked with a grimace. The women laughed.

The elevator ride seemed endless and Solace’s heart beat wildly, but she suffered in silence. Visibly relieved, she practically pulled the others out of the elevator car when the doors opened onto L. D.’s apartment. 

Taking in the splendid décor and huge aquarium in the immaculate apartment, Rosanna wondered about Ms. L. D. Jansen. She was obviously a wealthy woman. Her visual memory floated back to the letters on the awning of the building: The Jansen. L. D. must be the owner. 

They guided L. D. to a leather sofa where she threw back her head. “Oh my God. My head is killing me.” L. D. moaned. The more sight she regained, the less light she was able to tolerate.

“Do you have ibuprofen? Where’s your bathroom?” Rosanna asked. L. D. flung her right arm in a vague direction. Rosanna followed it, rose and went in search of a pain killer. She looked back and saw Solace stroking L. D.’s matted hair. She hurried down the long corridor thinking that she did not want to leave Solace alone with this woman too long as there was definitely some chemistry between them. 

She located a bathroom the size of a master bedroom, dashed to the medicine cabinet and retrieved a large bottle of ibuprofen. She struggled with the child-proof cap, grunting in her efforts. She shook two tablets into her palm, slammed the door, took one more quick glance around the sumptuous room and raced back to the living-room. 

“We’re going to have to put her to bed. We can’t leave her here.” Solace whispered. She rubbed her arms. The air conditioner had cooled the apartment to near freezing. At first, it had been refreshing; now she wished she could turn it down.

“We can just cover her and sack out on one of these other sofas. God knows there’s plenty of space here.” Rosanna said, looking around.

“I can’t sleep without covers. It’s freezing in here,” Solace whined.

Rosanna sighed audibly. “Well, all right, Sol the Smart One, what should we do?” 

“We’re all going to bed.” They jumped as L. D’s low voice floated up to them, “I have two guest rooms. You can take your pick.”

“First, we have to put those drops in your eyes, L. D.” Solace said, fishing in her shoulder-bag for the prescription.

“Please don’t tell me you are going to put the drops in her eyes, Sol. I know there are many things you do well, but—“ Rosanna said, reaching over to take the bottle of eye drops from Solace.

“I can do it if someone shines a bright light over her head.” Solace said indignantly.

“Solace, I know you can do a lot of things, but I think you should let—“

“Rosanna,” finished Rosanna.

“Rosanna, put the drops in.” But thank you.” Could Solace tell that she was visibly relieved? 

Rosanna took the bottle and quickly and deftly administered the required drops. When finished, she deposited the bottle into a pocket of her shorts. She really should have followed in her mother’s footsteps.

They helped L. D. up and guided her to her bedroom. They asked if she wore any pajamas to bed. When she admitted that she did not, they made sure that she had everything she needed. Rosanna was turning to leave when she noticed that Solace seemed rooted to her spot on the plush carpet.

“I need something to sleep in, L. D.” Solace said.

“Why? You won’t need--” blurted Rosanna but stopped herself when she caught Solace’s glower.

L. D. pointed to a drawer where Rosanna found a black tee-shirt and matching draw-string pants. She handed the ensemble to Solace who examined the cuffs of the pants, thanking the spirits that they had elastic as they were quite long. Well, at least they wouldn’t find a block of ice come morning. And what would possess Rosanna to believe that she would allow her to sleep with her? She had given in to the kisses and, of course, her body had betrayed her by sending that familiar tingle throughout her system, but she had no intention of…

They left L. D. and went in search of the other bedrooms. Rosanna took Solace by the hand and led her into a spacious room. She closed the door and reached for her.

With great effort, Solace gently pushed her away and used her cane to find a nearby chair. Rosanna walked over to her and dropped to her knees in front of her, silently grateful for the plush carpeting in this room as well. Covering Solace’s frozen fingers with her own cool hands she gazed up at her lovely face. Rosanna knew that Solace could see her up close; and she wanted her to be able to discern her sincere efforts to rekindle their relationship.

Before she could say anything, Solace commented, “Can you believe we’re here? I knew that L. D. might have some dollars, but I never thought of anything like this. If the carpet is any indication, the room must be exquisite. I’ll have to investigate it later.”

“Yes, the room is gorgeous,” agreed Rosanna. 

Solace looked down at Rosanna. She smiled and brushed back a lock of her dark hair. It reminded her that Rosanna forever sought to control her surroundings but inevitably she could not manage all aspects of her life, her lovely tresses being an example. She smiled as she thought of her own new efforts at organization. It was a long, slow process and she had often asked herself for whom she was doing it. Secretly, though, she knew.

“You can’t sleep with me, Sanna. As much as I want you, I can’t. You hurt me more than I knew I could be hurt and I can’t just make love to you as if we’re okay. I’ll need time.” Her fingers traced a path from Rosanna’s eyebrows, to her nose, then to her full, sensuous lips. How they beckoned to her.

Rosanna sighed, kissed Solace’s fingers and placed her head in Solace’s lap. She knew, of course, that Solace was right, but she had hoped that the kiss they had shared had told Solace how much she wanted and needed her. Her throat was dry, but her eyes filled with tears, which dampened Solace’s sundress.

Through choked sobs, she said, “I understand, Sol. I’ll find the other room.” She rose, kissed Solace on the cheek, walked to the door, turned to see Solace once more and left the room. 

Solace crossed to the bed and lay down as a fresh wave of tears began. She had thought she was cried out, but she was wrong.

Later that night, unable to sleep, Rosanna found herself back in the dark living-room with only the light of the aquarium. She had brought out a light comforter she’d found in a closet and draped it over her legs. She sat in a love-seat that provided an excellent view of the tropical fish as they darted in and out of caves and plants. She might have channel surfed, but she did not feel like trying to figure out the complex workings of the entertainment center in the lonely guest room.

She heard the unmistakable light tapping sounds of Solace making her way around the room with her cane. She knew Solace would eventually find a seat, but she walked quietly to her, placing her hand on her shoulder. Solace jumped and squeaked, “Sanna, you scared the crap out of me. Say something next time.” Rosanna grinned and took Solace in her arms. It felt wonderful to hold her again. She never tired of the feeling of her soft skin and intoxicating fragrance.  

“I’m sorry,” Rosanna whispered in her ear. Could Rosanna feel the slight shiver her warm breath caused? 

“Come sit with me.” She led her to the leather love-seat in front of the aquarium. They sat and Rosanna arranged the comforter around them and her arm around Solace’s shoulder. They spoke quietly about the aquarium and its beauty. Rosanna described the colors of the fish and plants and Solace found herself snuggling closer to her. Silence fell upon the room and the next thing Rosanna felt were Solace’s soft lips against her own. Her arms went around her and pulled her close. If the Great Ms. Jansen spied them, well…

The following morning L. D. discovered Solace and Rosanna curled up on the love-seat. Solace’s head rested on Rosanna’s shoulder, the picture of blissful peace. L. D.’s vision was still a bit unfocussed, but she could discern the outline of their bodies. Again, she wanted to give vent to her anger and yank Solace away from Rosanna, but how could she? L. D.’s cool exterior was well-known, but she could not be an ingrate. Rosanna had every reason to hate her and yet she had followed Solace’s lead and never shown any enmity towards her even though L. D. had made it clear that she wanted Solace. She sighed in exasperation and went to order breakfast. It was the least she could do. Then she would politely, but firmly, call her driver and have them driven home. She would have her housekeeper help her or maybe she would call Matilda. 




Solace & Rosanna Ch. 22



“How is it that I plan a party to get someone and you wind up making a possible connection?” Casey asked as she plastered an ice-pack on her head and popped two aspirins in her mouth, washing them down with a glass of water. She left her bathroom and slunk back to her bed, pulling the sheet up over her scantily-clad body. Leander was close on her heels.

“I don’t know…just my charm, I guess.” Leander said, grinning sheepishly.

“I’ll give you some charm. And then you try to knock me out with that killer punch. Are you sure you’re my friend, Leander?”

“Can I help it if you can’t hold your liquor?” he said innocently.

“Liquor I can hold--poison is another matter.” Casey mumbled. 

“Who was that woman anyway?” Casey asked off-handedly.

“Her name’s Jessie. She’s Solace’s friend. Isn’t she cute?” Leander blushed.

“Why Leander, do I hear a spark of excitement about the female sex?” Casey said as she raised an eyebrow

“You know I admire both genders, Casey, so just stop it. She is quite an interesting and attractive woman, though. And I could possibly…” He trailed off.

“Wow!” Casey exclaimed, her headache temporarily forgotten. She could not remember the last time Leander had dated a woman and, frankly, she was beginning to think he had crossed the gay fence for good. This new Jessie person caused her to re-think her assumptions. She could have brained him for spiking the punch, but she felt a warm glow at her friend’s obvious happiness. She knew that Leander thought of her as a selfish twit half the time, but she also hoped he realized that she cared for him deeply and wanted to see that he attained the life and love he desired. Ugh! She must have a hangover! Where did all that come from?  If he pulled a stunt like that again she’d kick him in his cute butt!

“You want some breakfast, Case?” Leander asked with an evil smirk. Casey threw a pillow in his direction, which he easily side-stepped. He left the room. She lay her aching head gently onto her pillow but before she became wrapped in the arms of Morpheous, she realized that she would have to have a serious chat with Sedilla. Poor Leander had fielded complaints about the music all day. Maybe she should ask if she could attend her next performance. Her head throbbed in protest.



Solace & Rosanna Ch. 23



First, I would like to thank you, Faithful Reader, for sticking with the story. I would also like to send a special thanks to those who took the time to vote. That really meant a great deal to me. Perhaps I should have posted this work in Romance, as it was probably not as spicy as most would have liked. But I am a novice at this and will think before I post next time. Until then, happy reading and writing to you all! –Alacia

I would also like to apologize for the late posting of this part. I accidently spilled liquid in my laptop hard drive and killed it. I then had to go through the process of securing a new password so I could post it. I sincerely hope it was worth the wait for those of you who are following the story. Again—I thank you all.

2003: Oh, my poor song thought Solace as she plunked out the accompaniment to one of her favorite standards. Couldn’t Emily hear that she was not in tune? Solace played the melody as stridently as possible but to no avail. It was almost too painful for her to continue playing, but Emily was intent on becoming a pop singer and she had paid the fee—in full, which was more than most students were able to afford. For the thousandth time Solace ruminated on the irony that the students who were the least talented were the most dedicated, practiced regularly—probably to the consternation (and murderous intent) of their families, friends, and neighbors—and never missed a single lesson. She wondered evilly if this young woman had ever had the police knock on her door to announce that she was being cited for disturbing the peace. She removed her fingers from the keys because she simply could not endure the torture any longer. They would have to go back to the basics of her playing simple tunes and having Emily sing them back—hopefully singing at least one note on the correct pitch.

“Um, Emily? Do you have a cold today?”

“No, Solace. Why?” Emily asked innocently. She was a bit disappointed that Solace had interrupted the song before its ending as she was prepared to belt her heart out at the end trying for a dramatic finish.

“Um… Well, I was wondering if you were having difficulty hearing the accompaniment. You’re pitch is a bit under the actual note,” A bit? What was she saying? It was almost as if Solace were playing in one key and Emily was deliberately singing in another.

“You know, Solace, I had the sniffles at the beginning of the week but I took some over-the-counter stuff and it cleared it up right away.” Emily smiled sweetly.  

Why did Emily have to be so damned nice, thought Solace. It meant that she was forever trying to be diplomatic and gentle in her criticism of the fledgling singer. What she really wanted to tell her was that she should stick to being a librarian and never attempt to sing (or in her case, butcher) another song ever again in this lifetime—or even the next. She sighed and quickly tried to compose herself. Damn! Well, that answer had killed that. She couldn’t even blame the horrific performance on Emily’s ears being blocked. 

“And I really worked on it, too. So much that my parents offered to help me look for an apartment this weekend. I was really surprised at that. They’ve been hinting at my finding my own place for about six weeks or so.” Emily stated this with absolutely no sign that six weeks coincided with her start of voice lessons. Solace’s professional demeanor did not in any way betray the fact that she was mentally dropping her jaw in utter disbelief at the young woman’s naiveté.

Emily Haslen had never sung a real song in front of an audience in her life. In their initial meeting, though, she told Solace that one morning she awakened from a dream in which she had been giving the performance of her life. She confided that she had never felt such a rush and she could still hear the tumultuous applause of the sold-out audience. Later, Solace would think: Yes, Emily, they were probably applauding because they were ecstatic that the piece had mercifully come to an end and their hearing was still in tact. Did you notice in your dream whether there was a stampede to the exit? She often chided herself for these sarcastic musings, but felt justified that she had rarely let them slip from her smiling lips. She was known throughout the school as a patient, supportive instructor and unless she had a complete breakdown, her reputation was safe. Several students, however, were pushing her to that brink of musical madness. They had dreams of becoming pop stars, Broadway babies and cabaret crooners. Why was it that she seemed to be drawing more and more of these types? She cursed the “Sorting Cap”, as they’d begun to call it since the appearance of the “Sorting Hat” in J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter. 

Each semester the names of voice students were placed in a New York Yankees baseball cap. That was another source of contention for Solace. She was convinced that she continually drew the less talented students because she was not a fan of the popular baseball team. Why couldn't the names be placed in a top hat—at least that was nearer to the theatre. Four anxious voice instructors would stand around the cap, which lay on the director’s desk, and pick three new students. Only once the names had been drawn were they given folders with basic information.

Solace had been lobbying for the upgrade of the music school for several years, but since September 11, she was told that the school was just barely able to meet its expenses because donations had dwindled to a slow trickle. Also, as a result of their community music school status, they were obliged to accept any student who was able to pay. 

“Solace, I want you to hear the ending. Let me know if I’m going in the right direction or not, okay? I’m trying to get into the interpretation of the song more and just let the notes take care of themselves.” 

Dear Goddess! Well, that explained that. Emily didn’t care whether she was in tune or not; she was only interested in her interpretation. Ugh! Newbies! Solace surreptitiously checked her Braille watch. Groaning inwardly, she realized they still had another twenty minutes before she could send Emily packing with her usual non-committal statement of “Keep working at it, Em.” She started the introduction to the piece and waited for Emily to begin her off-key rendition. Towards the end of the song, Emily flung herself onto the cover of the piano as she held the last note for an excruciating length of time. Solace improvised a hasty ending.

“Wow, Em! That was really something.”

“Thank you, Solace. Your praise means a lot to me.” Emily breathed.

Solace, you are going to have to become firmer with this child or she’ll think you’re completely pleased with her work, and that will not be a good thing—for anyone, she admonished herself. For now, though, she would hustle Emily out of her studio and rush to Mt. Sinai. As she grabbed her backpack and cane, she smiled remembering her meeting with Rosanna. The smile quickly faded as she realized that they needed to have a make-or-break discussion about their relationship. They were to meet this evening to do just that. Against her will, she became flushed recalling the intense kisses they had shared during their impromptu stay at L. D.’s penthouse. She willed those thoughts out of her mind and concentrated on the little blessings she was about to encounter.

Rosanna strode into The Women’s Pavilion at Mt. Sinai Hospital and stopped just inside the entrance. Checking the directions Solace had sent to her via e-mail, she headed for the Nursery. At the desk sat a young woman in a white uniform reading a fashion magazine. She was so engrossed in the images in the glossy pages that she failed to hear Rosanna’s approach. 

“Excuse me.” The young woman practically jumped off her stool. “Can you tell me what room Solace Tynan might be in? She gave me directions but neglected to add the room number.” Rosanna smiled affably.

“Is she your…er…wife? Are you an expectant mother…I mean, father…I mean parent?” The student nurse thought she certainly would love to have a spouse or parent who looked like this woman. She scanned a patient list affixed to a bulletin board. She wished that Molly, the Head Nurse, would return from her break soon as she did not feel confident dealing with the public alone. 

Rosanna smiled. “None of the above…yet. Solace Tynan is a volunteer here; she holds babies…or rocks them.”  

The young woman blushed. “We have a program like that here?” she asked in surprise. “Wow! How sweet.”

“Uh, I guess you do since Solace is here. You don’t know about it?” Rosanna asked, her eyebrows lifting slightly.

“I’m new here, but let me check the computer.”

Rosanna waited patiently as the young woman turned to what she could tell was a Pentium 3 computer system and began moving the mouse furiously around the screen, pointing and clicking on various icons. 

“I’ll have it in just a minute.” She assured Rosanna. She seemed to be going deeper and deeper into the system without coming up with the requested information.  

“Do you need some help?” Rosanna offered.

“Oh, no. This is an old system. It’s really slow,” she said without turning from her task.

Rosanna followed her movements as best she could. She became suspicious when the Icons disappeared and were replaced by a plain black screen with the old c prompt and blinking cursor. 

“Are you sure I can’t help? I’m the director of a computer training facility and I’m familiar with that operating system.” Rosanna said with growing impatience.

“Oh, no. I got it. I’m on the computer all the time. You just have to type in this code and--.” She hunted and pecked out a series of alpha-numeric characters and tapped on the enter key. They stood silent as the computer shut down and the screen went black.

“Oops. Maybe that was the emergency shut down code. I keep getting them mixed up.” She began biting her right thumbnail. “She must have signed in, though. Everyone is required to sign in.” She snatched up a clipboard and flipped through the sheets. “I don’t see any Solace Tynan here.”

Knowing Solace as she did, Rosanna thought she would have had someone sign in for her or not signed at all. She despised her signature and only scrawled the hated scribble when absolutely necessary.

“May I see the list?” Rosanna said in a tone that was more command than request.  The young woman handed her the clipboard and she ran a finger down the rows of names, flipped the sheet over and spotted Solace’s name written too neatly to have come from the hand of her friend. 

“Room 111.” Rosanna repeated. “Can you tell me what direction that would be in?” she tentatively asked the nurse.

The young woman pointed first to the left and then to the right, confusion evident on her face. 

“Uh, it’s either that way or that way. I have to be standing where you are to get my bearings.”

“Thank you. I’ll find it.” Rosanna walked to the right to a set of double doors and attempted to open them, but they were locked. She turned back to the young nurse, who stood watching her struggle.

“You have to be buzzed in.” she offered.

“Well, do you think you could do that?” Rosanna asked through gritted teeth, her accent evident in her exasperation. She heard a buzz, the doors opened smoothly and she hurried through them to find that she was in the 200 corridor. She back-tracked and flew through the doors, the young would-be nurse watching her every move. Rosanna looked up and saw the number 100 written in large black letters. She glared at the student nurse, who gave her a blank stare. Rosanna gestured towards the door and it finally dawned on the young woman to buzz her in. Aye Dios Mio! Where do they get these kids, Rosanna muttered to herself. 

As she neared Room 111, she heard the unmistakable sound of Solace singing. Her smooth tones sent shivers through Rosanna’s entire body. She stopped in the entrance to the room and beheld a sight that would stay in her mind's eye forever. In the midst of a cheerfully-lit, brightly-colored room filled with stuffed animals and toys of every description, sat Solace cradling a tiny, wrapped bundle of newborn.  

Rosanna could not discern the gender of the baby but it seemed to be nestled peacefully in Solace's arms. How could she have doubted that Solace would make an excellent mother? Solace was tender and gentle, but firm and stubborn when necessary. Why had they never even discussed the issue? Even after all of their years together, Rosanna was still hesitant to broach certain subjects. Well, they would be discussing a lot of topics soon. She was startled out of her musings by Solace's quiet voice.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to come in, Sanna?"

"How did you know I was here, Sol?" Rosanna brushed nervously at a stray lock of hair.

"Your fragrance gives you away, silly. I've told you that a thousand times. Now come on over here and meet Brook." Rosanna walked towards Solace, butterflies dancing a Polka in her stomach. As she entered the room, she caught the pleasant fragrance of baby powder. It reminded her of the nurseries she had visited with her mother. Rosanna knew they had to talk about their future. She would do or say anything to get Solace back—and she would mean it. She missed her desperately. She tentatively approached her love. For that is what Solace Tynan was—her love. Goddess, she couldn't believe it. She had been the one who was blind. Tears sprang to her eyes and she swiped quickly at them. What a cliché! As she came closer to Solace, she could see a little caramel-colored baby with a cap of silky brown hair. She reached out and ran a finger lightly over the baby's cheek.

"I'm thinking Brook is a she."

"You'd be thinking right." Solace answered quietly, nuzzling the baby close to her own cheek. 

"Would you like to hold her?"

Before Rosanna could reply, the little bundle was pressed against her middle and she reflexively took Baby Brook in her arms.

"She's beautiful. Is her mom still recovering from the birth?"

"The woman who gave birth to her skipped out without even naming her. I asked the nurses if I could and they agreed."

"Oh my God! My mom's seen that too many times to mention. I just don't know how these girls can do it," came Rosanna's angry tone.

"I could never give up my baby." Solace stated with conviction.

"You wouldn't have to." Rosanna whispered. Changing the subject, she asked,

"How did you settle on the name Brook?"

"Well, I didn't like ocean; and stream wouldn't do. I thought of pond, but it reminded me too much of that cold cream, minus the S, of course." Solace replied in mock seriousness.

"Sol, you are so crazy!"

"I’m crazy? I'm not the one who left me." The words spilled out of Solace's mouth before she could stop them. She felt her cheeks begin to burn. Again, she had blurted out words that were probably best left unspoken. Well, she would just have to wait.

Stung, Rosanna stood for a few seconds absorbing the blow. She placed the baby back in Solace's arms.

"Sol, I…I'm sorry. I don't know how I could have done that to you."

"I don't know either, but I do know that I can't go through that again. I won't. You're going to have to decide whether you are able to make a commitment or not, Sanna. It's going to hurt like hell, but if you can't, I'll have to go on without you," Solace said, a lump the size of a boulder lodging in her throat. 

"You won't have to go on without me, Sol. I love you and I want to be with you always." Rosanna's throat was also dry and she felt cool beads of perspiration trickle down the back of her blouse. 

"You what?" Solace needed Rosanna to repeat those three little words to be sure that she was not dreaming.

"I love you, Sol." 

Solace knew her heart would and could probably stop, but she would die an extremely happy woman. She found it difficult to come back to earth, but she said soberly,

"Sanna, I have waited so long to hear you say those words. I love you so much, but how do I know I can trust you. You have to promise me that if we have any problems, you'll come to me first and not seek out someone else. I really couldn't take this again," she sighed, her voice trembling.

"I promise. I'll do whatever I have to do to prove it to you, Sol. Please give me a chance." 

"I should probably make you walk over hot coals or something to prove you'll be faithful to me," Solace said with a slight smirk.

"I assure you, Sol, that won't be necessary." Rosanna leaned over and claimed the soft, sensuous lips of her Solace. And in return, Solace surrendered completely to her Rosanna. Little Brook slept on between them, oblivious to the kiss that would renew their union..

Neither woman was aware of a young student nurse standing in the doorway, a far-away, rapt look in her eyes and the hint of a blush on her cheeks. They made such a gorgeous, touching threesome!

"I thought you had the tickets, Ace." Isolinda sobbed, her ever-present handkerchief dabbing at her eyes.

"I do, Honey. I just have to figure out what pocket they're in." Ace answered, thrusting his hand into the breast pocket of his shirt for what seemed the hundredth time. "I know I had them. They're here somewhere." Next he explored the pockets of his dress pants.

"Why didn't you give them to me, Acey. You know you're always losing something. This is why Solace is the way she is."

"I don't lose things, Lena, I misplace them. I always find them eventually." 

They stepped out of the line to allow the people behind them to step up to the box office. Ace Tynan then set his attention on his wallet, rifling through his identification and credit cards, scowling at each offending piece when it did not turn out to be the tickets. Isolinda sighed.

"We're going to miss the recital," she whined..

"No, we're not, Hon. I've got 'em. Really." He continued his rummaging. They both jumped as Miranda and David walked up to them.

"Why aren't you guys standing on line?" she asked, staring at the long cue.

"Your father has lost our tickets, Mira. We're going to miss the performance." Isolinda blew her nose.

"Dad, don't you remember you gave the tickets to me?" She produced a handful of tickets from her purse.

"Of course, I remember. I was just playing a trick on your mother." Ace smiled sheepishly. Isolinda smacked him with her small handbag.

"I am going to play some tricks on you, Mr. Tynan." Isolinda said innocently. She did not notice the raised eyebrows of some of their fellow audience members. 

"There's Carla." David announced.

"I wonder where the boys are." Ace said, craning his neck to see over the crowd, not an easy feat considering he only stood five feet six inches..

"Late, of course." Answered Miranda. 

"We can't leave Robby and A. C." Isolinda wailed.

"We'll leave the tickets at the door, Lena." Ace said as he ushered his wife towards the line. Carla put a reassuring arm on Isolinda's shoulder, Miranda and David trailed behind, rolling their eyes..

Rosanna sat stiffly as she watched Solace glide gracefully across the stage in the arms of L. D. Jansen. Their movements were smooth and fluid as they swayed to Billy Ocean's "Love Zone." I should be dancing with her, she thought. She felt Sam place a hand atop hers.

"Calm down, Rosie. They're only dancing," he whispered.

"And if I have anything to do with it, it'll be their last dance." Rosanna growled.

"No, it won't be. They look great together and you shouldn't be so controlling."

"Who's side are you on here, Sam?"

"I'm on the right side, of course," he grinned. "Now, be quiet. People are starting to stare." Rosanna opened her mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly. She could not win with this man. She sighed because she knew he was, of course, right—this time.




Solace & Rosanna Ch. 23



L. D. Jansen was a study in anguish as she watched Solace and Rosanna being greeted by their friends and family. She saw Casey try to snare Rosanna in an embrace, but Rosanna deftly fended her off. She noted that Leander and the beautiful African-American woman, whom she would come to know as Jessie, were standing quite close together, their bodies slightly touching. She could also see the resemblance in the Tynan family, briefly assessing the handsome faces of Solace's brothers. Rosanna, she thought, must resemble her father as L. d. saw only a hint of likeness to her mother.

Everyone had congratulated her and Solace on their exquisite performance. L. D. had experienced a few moments of euphoria but now she felt flat but as taut as a guitar string.

"You're gonna have to give her up, L. D. I'm sorry." came Ardena's smooth tones as she stood behind her.. 

L. D. faced her, looked into her eyes, and walked out of the dance studio. She must be more transparent than she'd thought, and she had to leave before she did or said something that she would regret.

The homeless woman stood across the street from the Jansen, looking particularly disheveled as one hand clutched at the tatters of her ripped tee-shirt and the other the broken handle of her shopping cart. Her eyes darted back and forth, missing little. She stared up at the elegant façade of the building, scanning and counting each floor. She continued her surveillance as she watched her cousin, L. D. Jansen enter the grand lobby. The dancer is distraught; there is no one to comfort her, she thought. I know about that. Yes, I know that feeling very well.

Solace and Rosanna sat around the table in the dimly-lit restaurant surrounded by their friends and family. The din was rising, but had anyone been paying attention at that moment, they would have discovered that Solace Tynan and Rosanna Romero were oblivious to their surroundings. They neither looked left nor right, only at each other. Although it was too dark for Solace to clearly see her Sanna, she knew with all her heart that she was gazing intently at her. She could feel her eyes. And Rosanna could feel sol's love in the gentle pressure of sol's hand in hers. Neither needed nor wanted to find comfort in any other person.

The End…but I think perhaps another Beginning!