Chapter 25: Dredging up memories.

Jerry and Lana pled exhaustion shortly after dessert was served, and left Sara and I to 'catch up on old times.' As they headed out the door, Sara remarked with amusement evident in her voice, "I wonder what excuse would they have used if we hadn't known each other."

"Oh, probably something along the lines of 'letting us young kids get to know each other better.' Though I think that they would have taken you home had we not gotten along."

"God, I hope so. Good thing we did, then. So, feel like showing me a bit of Boston?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

Thirty minutes later, I unlocked a heavy storm door, and we walked onto the roof of the forty-story skyscraper my firm was in. (My penchant for acquiring keys comes in handy again.) Carrying the two chairs we had brought up from the conference room, Sara and I set them down along the eastern edge, where we had a clear view of Boston at night, in all its incandescent glory. The view captivated us, and we stayed silent until I cleared my throat a few minutes later.

"What made you decide to leave the West Coast?"

"I would have rather stayed, but the position at the Symphony and the increased paycheck was rather convincing."

"I thought that your dream not so many years ago was to play for the Boston Symphony."

"In the last few years, I learned that I'd be equally comfortable playing for LA, San Francisco, or any of the major symphonies." She shrugged. "Boston happened to be the only one offering right now."

"Is it living up to what you imagined it to be?"

"Some parts, yes. The others... I'm not quite sure. It kinda reminds me of that song you used to sing all the time."

"Um, you'll have to be more specific. I used to sing a lot of songs."

"You know, the one from that chess musical. Not 'One night in Bangkok.'"

"'Who needs a dream'?"

"That's it! Could you sing it again now, for old time's sake?"

I eyed her oddly. "My singing hasn't exactly improved with age, and I don't remember you liking it then."

"Please?"

Like I was going to refuse. "All right." I did a quick mental run-through of the lyrics, then started singing softly:

"Who needs a dream?
who needs ambition?
who'd be the fool
in my position?

Once I had dreams
now they're obsessions
hopes became needs
lovers possessions

Now I'm where I want to be
and who I want to be
and doing what I always said I would
and yet I feel I haven't won at all

When the crazy wheel slows down
where will I be?
Back where I started..."

The last notes floated in the night air before fading away as Sara got up and went to look over the railing. "And that's how I feel," she said, staring at the bright lights below. "I'm where I dreamed of being, but the reality doesn't match the expectations. Even when they do, there's no one to share the moments of success and happiness with." She turned around suddenly, and caught the anguished expression on my face before I could hide it. "Oh God, Jordan, I didn't mean to-"

"It's all right. Really."

She came back and sat down again.

"I heard about Olivia. I'm sorry."

"Thanks." Turning to her, I asked, "How much do you know?"

"Most of it, I guess." She shook her bangs out of her face. "I would have never pegged Olivia as bi."

"More lesbian than bi, I would think, after she and Anya got together." That line of thought triggered a memory, and I continued hesitantly, "Um, speaking of which, have you-"

"No, I'm still not telling people."

"Oh."

"You'd think that after six years, I'd be sufficiently comfortable with my sexual preferences to tell the world that I'm a lesbian. No such luck."

"It's no one's business but your own."

"Wasn't that what you said then?"

"It's still true."

"I'll have to come out someday, if only to show myself that I accept who I am."

"Hey, I'm straight, and I still don't accept the person that I am."

"Oh, you." She leaned her head against my shoulder. "We were two screwed-up kids that Christmas, weren't we? You had just had that low-pitched screaming match with Olivia that everyone heard, and I was desperate to talk to someone after my then-ex had a bout of latent heterosexuality."

"Now, we're just two screwed-up adults."

"You're just full of reassurance tonight, aren't you?"

"Sorry, automatic defense mechanism."

We sat like that for a few seconds, her head resting on my shoulder, neither saying a word.

"Jordan?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you regret anything about that night?"

"You mean, how we almost slept together?"

"Yeah."

"Both of us got a little carried away."

"I had started crying, and you were trying to comfort me."

"I tried to brush your tears away, but-"

"-ended up kissing them away instead. We wound up on the couch until-"