Chapter 289

Laura and Sara, for their habitual Friday evening dinner out, decided to try a trendy place in the Hayes Valley neighborhood called Bistro Rondine. Since Sara's mention of the attractive nurse who wanted to get friendlier with her, they had never so much as flirted with the subject again. Laura had kept a judicious and aloof silence, as if she were above it all, mainly to keep herself from hurting over it, and Sara had simply acted as if the conversation had never happened.

Laura had no idea whether they had slept together yet or not. Sara gave no clue, and Laura did not want to know anyway. Part of her was dying to ask, and even to hear the details, as if skewering the jagged knife deeper into her heart would make her understand and accept it better. The better part of her, however, was sensible and kept repeating to herself that she was no saint either.

The hostess at Bistro Rondine was a rather plain-looking black woman-or so Laura thought at first-with however a very attractive figure. She wore a severe black sheath dress that was anything but revealing; rather, elegant and chic. But you could tell somehow what was underneath it, and Laura had to control her eyes so that Sara wouldn't notice and make a telling comment, concealed by a deceptively funny face.

This was not easy to do since the bistro was very busy, catering to young professionals who were capping off the week with raucous and heavily attended dinner parties. The hostess hurried back and forth seating people and summoning waiters, though she never looked rushed herself but always calm and controlled. However, she had noticed Laura looking, and now and then as she passed somewhere in the room her eyes would flit to Laura's. Their gazes would catch, if only for a micro-second, not enough for anyone else to notice. But each time in this instant there was a quick flash of connection, an odd and exciting recognition, even an instantaneous flame up that made Laura squirm in her seat and made the hostess quickly turn her glance away.

The woman's eyes were light hazel, which somehow to Laura made her gaze even more electrifying. They were not as pale as Shontay's eyes-and the woman was not light-skinned either, not like Shontay but darker, the same color as Sara-but they were still not dark brown or black, and they seemed to glow with a sad, haunted aura, which however was so fleeting that Laura wondered if she were imagining it.

The woman's face seemed plain until you looked at it a little harder, which Laura was loath to do but managed to find a stray minute for when Sara briefly went to the restroom. She had a fine, straight nose and a high forehead, and a mouth that somehow looked as sad as her eyes. Maybe I'm just imagining it, Laura thought again. Maybe I'm just romanticizing her, making her look haunting and desolate and unattainable. Maybe I should just cut it the fuck out since I'm having dinner here with the love of my life, even though she wants to let somebody else kiss that beautiful pussy I love so much.

Both she and the hostess finally seemed to realize that what they were doing was dangerous, for Laura never saw her again until she and Sara paid and left, when she glimpsed her helping an arriving party. Their eyes did not meet.

But Laura did not forget her. She and Sara spent a marvelous weekend together, and Laura put both Sara's impending affair (if it hadn't already been consummated) and the hostess at Bistro Rondine completely out of her mind. But on Monday morning she began thinking about the woman in the black sheath and could not stop. I've got to meet her, she thought. I... I shouldn't be feeling this way about a complete stranger, but there was something there. When we caught each other's eyes. Something really magnetic.

During her lunch hour she actually drove over to Bistro Rondine, not knowing what she actually expected herself to do. As usual, there was no place to park anyway. Then she realized that the hostess worked in the evening and would not be there at this time. Glumly, she returned to work, but at six o'clock she was there again, desperately circling the blocks for a parking space.

When she slipped inside the restaurant door, and though it was only six-thirty, she noticed the woman dealing with a dinner party that had preceded Laura. She wore the same black sheath dress she had worn on Friday night, or an identical mate. The woman's eyes shot to her, and she and Laura instantly took up where they had left off, the electrical current between them shocking and sudden. The woman turned back to her dinner party. Laura, flustered, turned away as if not to be conspicuous. At the same time, she found herself removing her earrings, dropping one in her handbag.

It seemed like an eternity until the woman returned. Laura rehearsed to herself what she would say. She only had to wait about two minutes. The hostess reappeared, coming from a different angle, surprising Laura.

"May I help you?"

Laura's head whipped around. "Oh... yes." She extended her hand. "Laura Robbins."

The woman smiled mysteriously and shook Laura's hand. "Makeeda Williams."

"I... I was here for dinner on Friday night, and I-"

"I remember," Makeeda said, with a knowing look, as if to say, We flirted, we made eye contact across the room, it was exciting, don't you remember?

Laura self-consciously plucked at her earlobe. She realized that she was blushing and tried to fight it back. "I think I... well, lost one of my earrings. I was wondering if you... you know, found one?"

A broad, but not unfriendly, smirk crossed Makeeda's face, which did not seem at all plain when you were talking with her. Instead, it was animated and expressive, though still tinged, Laura thought, by the faint wisp of sadness or melancholy that she thought she had seen there from the start.

"Found one?" she said. "How about five or six? I usually have a tray full of those after a weekend." She smiled even more warmly now. "Wait a minute, I'll get it for you and you can look through them."

Laura grinned and nodded. Like an idiot, she thought. She couldn't keep her eyes from falling to Makeeda's splendid dark muscular calves as the woman walked way to get the lost earrings. Since she was making this up as she went along, she realized she didn't know what to do next. Her earring would not be on the tray.

"Here it is," Makeeda said, returning with a small tray on which were assorted pieces of jewelry. "One rule, though. I can't let you have it unless you can show me the mate. Otherwise, we spend hours settling whose earring belongs to whom."

"I can imagine," Laura smiled, looking briefly but deeply into her fascinating hazel eyes, trying to communicate the depth of her desire to know Makeeda much better.

Makeeda had to seat other newcomers and left her with the tray. While she was gone, Laura thought with desperate speed. She still had one of her earrings concealed in her palm. With a discreet motion, she dropped it on a chair at the corner of the bar, which was directly adjacent to the hostess's podium. Then she adroitly readjusted the chair so that it was in the shadows, and the earring was not visible. She finished doing all this just as Makeeda returned.

"Find it?" she asked Laura, looking at the tray, which Laura still held in one hand.

Laura shook her head. "Not there."

Makeeda looked up at her as if to say, Well, we knew it wouldn't be, didn't we. "I guess it didn't turn up," she said. "Look, if anything else shows up, I'll give you a call. Was it expensive? I mean, some girls wear diamond earrings here. Lucky them. Wouldn't want to lose something like that."

Laura shook her head again. "Not expensive. Just sentimental value, I guess you could say." She rummaged in her handbag for her business cards. Quickly, borrowing Makeeda's pen, she scribbled her home number on the back. "Can you call me if you find it?"

Makeeda's interesting face went solemn and serious suddenly, out of proportion to her reply. "It would be my pleasure, Laura. I will certainly call you if we find it."

Laura was somehow paralyzed by this response. She realized that both she and Makeeda wished they could stand here talking like this for the rest of the evening. But Makeeda had to work... and Laura had to vanish. She wanted to say, Why don't you just call me anyway? but did not dare.

"Okay, then," she said. "Thanks so much. See you."

Makeeda smiled in a very slow, sensual way and nodded back. "See you."

Laura floated down the street and back to her car. True, she had absolutely no reason to believe this would turn out well. They might not find the earring. Another diner might find it. It might get kicked under a carpet, or thrown out. But she has your phone number, Laura thought giddily. If she wants to call, she'll find a way. And something tells me she's as interested as I am. Laura hummed all the way home, trying not to think of all the factors that could make it unlikely for her ever to see Makeeda again.

Unfortunately, there were many factors, and after a night passed, Laura began to believe the contrary, that Makeeda would not call her. I was too obvious, she accused herself. She could see in my eyes that I wanted her. Maybe she's not even a lesbian but just enjoys being attractive to everyone. But Laura knew this couldn't be true. She had experienced their long-range, furtive flirtation on Friday night. You couldn't mistake that.

When Makeeda did call, late the next afternoon, Laura nearly jumped out of her skin, hearing her voice. Makeeda was very stiff and formal.

"Is this Laura Robbins?"

"Yes... it is. Yes, it's me!" Laura stammered, recognizing her voice. Usually she answered the phone with her name, but somehow this time she had lazily reached for it, being involved in something else at her desk.

"This is Makeeda Williams. Remember me? From Bistro Rondine?"

Oh god, yes, I remember you! Laura wanted to shout into the receiver with glee. Instead, she said 'yes' politely. "Yes."

"I think we found your earring. It was in the bar. Did you go in the bar when you were there Friday?"

"Let me think," Laura pretended. "Oh, yes. I think we did... for a minute or two. While we were waiting."

"Well, this is probably it, but I can't be sure. You want to drop by and pick it up?"

Laura looked at her watch. "How about half an hour?"

"Fine. The earring will be there. Unfortunately, I won't. It's my day off."

"Oh." Laura couldn't keep the disappointment-more like the huge dismay-out of her voice. "I guess... I was just looking forward to... seeing you. You've been so nice."

There was a deep pause at the other end of the phone line. "Maybe we should just drop the formalities," Makeeda finally said. "What do you think? I was sort of looking forward to seeing you too."

Laura felt light-headed. She nearly had a stroke from an overload of happiness. "Really?"

"You know, I'm house sitting for some friends. They have this big expensive house in Sea Cliff. It's right near Baker Beach. Do you know where that is?"

"Are you kidding? I drive down there all the time to watch the sunset. I love watching the fog bank roll in when it just engulfs the bridge, and the foghorns are all going. Don't you love that?"

Makeeda seemed to smile on the other end. "It sounds like we go there for the same reasons. Look, maybe when you get off work..."

"I'll be there by six. Is that convenient for you?"

"I'm looking forward to it, Laura," Makeeda said warmly. "See you then."

Even on warmish summer days the fog would soon begin to roll in, and by the time Laura arrived at Baker Beach it was beginning to push in huge, swirling gray billows and huge puffed wads through the Golden Gate, its tendrils embracing the beautiful red bridge. The long, loud, melancholy foghorns, each one different in timbre and pitch, were bellowing already to each other.

She had no idea what kind of car Makeeda would be driving, and there were two parking lots at the beach, so that she had to park in one and look around, then move to the other one since she had not spotted Makeeda yet. It was Makeeda who spotted her. She was wearing dark pants and a white angora turtleneck sweater, and she waved at Laura from the edge of the parking lot, where it met the sand. Laura, as she parked and got out of her car, found herself wondering how she could ever have believed this woman was plain. Makeeda suddenly looked stunning to her, with a sharp, fascinating face, her dark brown skin set off to perfection by the white angora.

Also, while the sheath dress she wore at the restaurant did not accentuate her figure but did not conceal it either, Makeeda's incredible body was now even more apparent in the pants and sweater. God, she's one of those women with perfect proportions, Laura thought as she walked toward her. Tiny waist, luscious hard bottom, jutting breasts, perfect proportions.

As she got closer to Makeeda, she made sure her eyes were not focusing on the girl's terrific hard body. She probably gets more than enough of that, Laura thought. She thought it was so unseemly of her, or would be, to appear sexually interested in any way. After all, they eventually might wind up together in bed. That would not be a shocker. And yet it seemed so coarse and forward and arrogant to assume it. You will keep your eyes to yourself. This is just a nice, pleasant evening meeting with a potential friend, nothing to get your pussy in a lather about.

"Hi," Laura smiled as she reached Makeeda.

"Hello, Laura," Makeeda smiled back, a warm, welcoming smile, much softer and friendlier than any expression Laura had ever yet seen cross her face. Her hazel eyes were deliciously promising. "I'm so glad you could come."

"I wouldn't have missed it," Laura said, looking past Makeeda's shoulder at the spectacular sight of the huge fog bank steaming through the Gate. "Look at that."

Makeeda glanced back over her shoulder, then back at Laura. "I know. I can never get over it. Sometimes I just sit here for hours watching it, or waiting for it to happen."

"Let's go down there and walk along the water."

Makeeda nodded. "We can leave our shoes in my car." She indicated a faded red Toyota, about twelve years old, parked closer than Laura's car.

There were few other people at the beach: some Filipino fishermen at one end, a couple of young kids splashing in the tide, watched over by their mother. Laura and Makeeda strolled barefoot at the shore's edge, toward the bridge. They didn't speak but let the fresh salt air blow through them.

"Did you get the earring back?" Makeeda finally asked, idly.

Laura shook her head. "Are you kidding? I drove straight here. Didn't want to miss this."

Makeeda smiled. They walked a little further in silence, listening to the moan of the foghorns. "Tell me about... you know, you and the girl you were with. I don't mean to pry. But you and she seemed pretty happy and comfortable together. Like you've been together a while."

Laura nodded. "True. About a year, I think. We're pretty close."

The same stricken, haunted look that Laura had seen once or twice in Makeeda's eyes returned briefly. But she quickly hid it. "That's so nice. It was kind of touching to watch."

If it was so touching, Laura thought, you must have wondered why I was secretly flirting with you every time you passed by. "What about you?" Laura asked. "You involved?"

Makeeda quickly shook her head. Her black hair was thick and coarse, and was being whipped by the wind. Her startling hazel eyes clouded up briefly, not with tears but emotion. "Was," she said, so softly that the wind nearly blew the word away before Laura could hear it. Then she looked out over the ocean.

Laura realized this was not something she should press. There was plenty of pain evident in Makeeda's face.

"Tell me about your name. Makeeda. What a beautiful name. Does it mean anything?"

Makeeda shook her head again. She smiled wryly. "It's not my real name. I just picked it out of a magazine. Stage name. My real name is Cynthia. Cynthia Brickus."

"Why did you change it? Cynthia seems like a pretty name to me. In fact, I think I'll call you Cynthia. Just to be different."

Makeeda glared at her but then smiled. "I wish you wouldn't. I changed it for a purpose."

"I know. You said stage name. What does that mean. Are you an actress?"

Makeeda shook her head. "Jazz singer."

Laura's heart leapt. "Oh god, you're kidding. I love jazz. But I never heard your name."

Makeeda smiled again grimly. "Not an easy business to break into. But I'm doing it... gradually. Lots of hard work. Starvation. Maybe a few breaks, if you're lucky. That's why I work at Rondine. To support myself while I'm trying to break into the business. I know the owners, and they're pretty supportive. They believe in me. In fact, they're the ones who own this house I'm sitting for them." She pointed up to the cliffs ahead of them, where expensive houses were perched, houses Laura had been awed by many times in past walks here. "See it... it's... yes, that one. The one with the red tile roof and all the shining windows."

But Laura was not to be distracted. "Tell me why Cynthia Brickus is not a perfectly fine name for a jazz singer."

Makeeda smiled wryly. "Let me tell you how Brickus is spelled. B R I C K H O U S E. Brick house. Have you ever heard the expression 'built like a brick shit house'?"

Laura smiled. "I think my uncle used to use it now and then when he saw a good looking woman. But only when he thought there were no kids around like me to hear him."

"Exactly." Makeeda stopped walking and stepped back a little from Laura. She made a gesture with both hands, sweeping them up and down her spectacular tight body. "Not bragging, but imagine the jokes that would be made if 'Cynthia Brick House' were appearing at the Plush Room, or Yoshi's. No thanks. So long, Cynthia. Now appearing: Makeeda Williams." They resumed walking. "Simple... but with a touch of the exotic African. Perfect."

Laura smiled and nodded. "I agree. Now that you explain it." I wouldn't be ashamed of that body, though, she wanted to add. People would kill to have a body like that, me included.

They were alone now at the far north end of the beach, having left the few other people far behind. "So... sing something for me," Laura asked. "Something that's your specialty."

Makeeda laughed, both flattered and embarrassed, then shook her head, patting down her thick hair, which was whipping about. "Terrible place to sing. The wind just sucks up the sound and you can't even hear yourself."

Laura let her disappointment show. "Let's go back to our cars. You can do it there."

Makeeda looked quizzically at her. "Why do you want to hear me sing?" she suddenly asked bluntly.

"I like you. I love jazz. I love singing. I sing in the shower... or in the car. I'll bet some of the stuff you sing is the stuff I sing in the shower. Except you're good. I know you are. I want to hear it."

"How do you know I am? Good, I mean?" Makeeda could not stop grinning and laughing softly.

"I would bet anything you are good," Laura said, solemnly, looking her directly in her beautiful odd hazel eyes and trying to keep the sex out of it for once. "Very good."

Makeeda appeared to consider it. Then she relented. "Look, the house on the cliff over there has a grand piano in it. I don't play well, but a guy taught me how to use spread chords to accompany myself. Why don't you come back for a few minutes with me and I'll sing for you."

Makeeda's eyes showed her pride as well as her diffidence, but they also seemed to contain a muted warning to Laura not to expect a riotous evening of fucking just because they were going back to the house together. Just singing. No sex. At least not yet. This was what her eyes were telegraphing to Laura, who sent back the message that it was perfectly fine with her. In truth, she liked Makeeda a lot and would bend over backwards not to rush things.

"I accept your invitation," Laura smiled. "Come on."

Ten minutes later she was standing by the huge ebony satin Boesendorfer piano in the living room of an absolutely spectacular house overlooking the ocean. How do I wind up in these fantastic places? Laura asked herself. First Amber's incredible apartment in the Fontana. Then this. With this terrific woman. God, I must be living right. Or I sure am lucky.

Makeeda was seated at the piano, picking out the chords, tentatively approaching a song. Gradually, she seemed to float into another world while Laura watched, aware of Laura's presence, but wholly concentrating on the music. She began to sing Skylark. Laura knew it and sang it often to herself. She also knew it was fiendishly difficult where the bridge returned to the first melody, and usually she quit in frustration, being unable to get her bearings again, ending up in another key that soared out of her range.

Makeeda flowed effortlessly through it, though of course, Laura realized, she had the advantage of using the piano to guide her back to the initial melody. She had a rich, thick, smoky voice that was supple and strong and flexible and very expressive. She did not look at Laura once but slid deeply into the song itself, singing it the second time through with even more expressive pain. It was not an especially sad song, but wistful, and she brought out the suppressed emotional distress that lay in the background.

Skylark, have you anything to say to me?
Can you tell me where my love may be,
Is there a meadow in the mist
Where someone's waiting to be kissed?

Laura was hypnotized. She had never had such a riveting experience. She had known Makeeda would be good, but not this good. Makeeda's hazel eyes were glistening as she played the last chord and looked up at Laura for the first time since she had begun singing. Laura realized that in a way it was like sex: you had to come back from it to the present; you had to shake away the spell of the music to rejoin mundane reality.

She clapped. "God, I knew you were good, but I didn't know you would be that good," she repeated out loud.

Makeeda laughed softly, looking like Laura did when she blushed, though Makeeda was too dark to blush. "Thank you."

"Why aren't you famous?"

"I am famous. I am now famous to Laura. One at a time, I always say. Soon you have a crowd of five or six."

"No... I'm serious."

Makeeda looked down, embarrassed. She had a charming shyness. "I appreciate your praise, Laura. You and a few others think I'm good. Maybe that will get me there, eventually."

Laura sat down in a chair adjacent to the piano. "Another."

Makeeda smiled, as if to demur.

"I'm intoxicated," Laura said. "Another. I insist."

Makeeda shrugged. "It'll have to be another ballad. My piano skills aren't good enough for me to do up tempo tunes on my own."

Laura smiled and waited. You enchanting woman, sing me to heaven. My pussy wants your pussy but my ears want your song more at this minute.

Again, Makeeda ascended into the place where she could play and sing without any distraction, leaving Laura rapt and solemn with pleasure. She sang:

If you could see me now,
You'd know how blue I've been...

This time her rich and throaty voice throbbed with loss and melancholy, curling around the words, making them ache, dropping to a distant hush and then rising with heartsore passion to the natural climaxes of the melody. By the time the final chord died away Laura could feel a tear sliding down her cheek. No one ever had this effect on her, not even the greatest of singers.

She wiped it away with one finger. Makeeda saw her doing it.

"Gosh, maybe I should be famous," she said, softly.

"You are to me," Laura said. "You are the most beautiful singer."

They spent another half hour at the piano, and Makeeda even showed Laura the interval in Skylark, the one that made it hard to get from the bridge back to the main tune.

"See, it's pretty easy when you know it. It is a little counter-intuitive, though, so you have to be paying attention when you get there."

"I think I can do it now."

"Want to try?"

"Are you kidding? In front of you? With a voice and a musical knowledge like you have?"

Laura was sitting next to her on the piano bench, very close, and it seemed for a moment like it would be the easiest thing to lean a little closer and brush Makeeda's smooth brown cheek with her lips. She knew Makeeda realized it too. For this reason, Laura scooted to the side and stood up, to avoid temptation. This was a pure and precious moment, and she wasn't going to ruin it by making an advance that would be repelled, and that could wait anyway.

Instead, she walked around the very expensive house. Makeeda joined her.

"So, where do you live when you're not enjoying all this... splendor?" Laura asked, sweeping one hand broadly across the room toward the windows, the ocean view from which was now beginning to fill up with swirling, steaming tufts of fog.

"Oh, I live in a little old house on Magee street in Berkeley. I... shared it... in the past with my... you know... what I mentioned earlier..."

"The one you were involved with?"

Makeeda nodded, a little grimly, looking away. "Actually, the people who own this house arranged for me to get a loan to buy her out. That's why I'm still living there. Otherwise, I guess I'd be renting some sky high apartment somewhere."

"They must be really good friends."

"They are." When Makeeda turned to face Laura again, Laura saw the pain in her eyes that periodically resurfaced.

They sat down together on one of the three sofas in the room with the piano, which looked like a page out of House Beautiful. "Want to tell me about it?" Laura said gently. "You know, the significant other?"

Looking directly into Laura's eyes this time, Makeeda shook her head. "Happened over six months ago. I should be over it by now."

"Some take longer than others," Laura said, again gently. "You don't have to tell me."

Makeeda smiled and said nothing. Laura wanted to embrace her in the worst way, more than ever at this instant, but restrained herself.

"I think I'd be frightened staying all alone in this big house," she said, looking around.

"It's a safe neighborhood. They have a security alarm, the one I punched off when we came in. The cops patrol it all the time. One of the advantages of being rich, I guess. They sure don't patrol my neighborhood."

It was now about seven-thirty, and Laura could hear her own stomach growling. Makeeda could hear it too.

"I'm sorry, you know sometimes when I get involved in my music I completely forget to eat," she said. "You must be starving. Why don't we have dinner?"

Laura smiled, looking down at her stomach and making one of Sara's faces. "It won't shut up. Guess we better."

Makeeda had leftovers from the previous night, which she warmed up for them. They drank wine and ate and became very relaxed together. At about nine, Laura knew that some kind of milestone was coming. She would have to leave, or they would have to confront what they were both feeling. And yet she could clearly sense that Makeeda was not yet ready to cross the line.

Even while Makeeda was talking, Laura would be speaking to her with her own eyes. Don't you worry, Makeeda, I will be there when you are ready. I am not going to push it. I just love being with you. I want you, but I can wait. Until you're ready.

She hoped Makeeda would get her message. At nine-fifteen, she looked at her watch. "I've got to go. Work in the morning, you know. I wish I could stay and hear you sing some more."

Makeeda smiled, rising to see her to the door. "You could come tomorrow. I may have a whole new repertoire by then. I usually practice in the afternoons."

"I will do that." They were clasping hands at the door, and Laura realized that this was the first time they had actually touched. "Would you mind a lot if I kissed you goodnight?"

Laura didn't know how this question had escaped her when she was trying so hard to maintain self-control. If Makeeda seemed surprised, she did not show it. She kept smiling.

"I guess... maybe we shouldn't," she said softly. "I'm... maybe just not... ready yet? Know what I mean?"

Laura nodded. "I understand perfectly. I hope you don't think I was being too forward."

"Oh no." Makeeda shook her head slowly. "Not at all. Maybe next time."

Laura nodded. "Next time." There was always hope. "Did you mean it about tomorrow night?"

"I certainly did. And tomorrow I'll make a real dinner. No leftovers."

They stood looking into each other's eyes on the doorstep for quite a while. Laura realized she had to leave before she grabbed Makeeda and kissed her anyway. "Okay, then. I'm going. I'll be here tomorrow at six."

Makeeda smiled warmly and watched her down the stairs. "I'm looking forward to it."

Laura was home only fifteen minutes, though, before the phone rang.