Dorothy Zbornak was sitting on the lanai, reading a book and enjoying some of the late august sun that was shining generously on Miami, when her roommate Blanche Deveraux stormed on the terrace. The southern belle was all dressed up, wearing her most expensive and most beautiful dress, but she was so upset that it seemed she would ruin her make up any second.
"I can't believe it! I just can't believe it!"
Dorothy kept a finger between the pages as she closed the book and sighed. Another overreaction.
"What's wrong, Blanche?"
"Raynold just called, and… and he cancelled our date! The banquet's tonight! Oh, what am I to do?" She let herself fall into the lounger next to Dorothy.
"Come on, Blanche, you can't tell me that there aren't hundreds of men in your notebook just dying to go out with you tonight!"
"I can't just go with anyone, Dorothy! The banquet's only once a year, it's a special occasion! I need a date with class, and elegance…" The belle looked at Dorothy from head to toes, and an idea seemed to form in her mind.
"You don't happen to have a black suit?"
The substitute teacher shot an incredulous glance at her friend. "What do you mean do I have a suit? You're not actually thinking that –"
"Oh Dorothy, come on", Blanche pleaded, "You know this banquet means the world to me and I cannot possibly show up there all by myself! And you don't have a date for tonight anyway, am I right? There, so come with me and have some fun for a change!"
"Fun?! You think that pretending to be a man would be fun for me?"
"Please, Dorothy, I am beggin you! Be my date for tonight. I'm sure it's gonna work out great!", Blanche said and took her hand.
"Oh yeah," Dorothy said in her deepest voice, "Too bad I shaved my mustache this morning!"
But Blanche's puppy eyes were already melting down her defenses. If she was honest with herself, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to be the southern belle's date – as a woman, she knew she'd never make it any other way. Those hopes had been crushed when she'd witnessed how Blanche reacted to her brother's coming out. She had known then that she could never open up to her best friend about her feelings that went way beyond friendship and ever since that day, she'd tried to forget about them. Now she was here in front of her, holding her hand and imploring her to be her date for tonight.
"Alright, alright", she finally said, "I give up. Take me out."
Blanche squealed with joy. "Hurry up, hurry up, we gotta get you ready!" And holding on tight to her friend's hand, she dragged her into her bedroom and shut the door behind them.
"Okay Dorothy, so the banquet starts in two hours, we don't have a lot of time. Get your suit and put it on. Come on, come on, meanwhile I'll make up a nice background story for you."
Blanche sat down on the bed and turned her back to Dorothy, so that she could change.
"Let's see", she started, while Dorothy, still a little disbelieving, opened her closet. "You're a teacher, that's for sure… you lecture English Literature and Culture at Miami State University, and you're very cultured, and speak Chinese, too-"
"Oh Blanche come on, isn't French good enough? I actually speak that, you know."
"Oh well, whatever. In your free time you attend writing symposiums, work at the theater and all of that cultured stuff. We met at the library."
Dorothy had finished changing, and asked "Will this do?"
As Blanche turned around, she saw her friend in an elegant black suit that flowed around her tall body and gave her an air of authority and masculinity.
"Oh definitely!" she exclaimed. "Now come over and sit down, I've gotta do your hair!"
Dorothy did as she was told, sat down on the dresser and while Blanche started combing her hair, she took off her earrings and started taking off the little make-up she'd been wearing, too.
After about an hour of getting ready, Blanche contemplated her date with satisfaction. "What do you think, Dorothy? Are you gonna pass for a gentleman or what?"
Dorothy couldn't help but agree as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She would pass as a man. She had practically transformed into one, all exterior signs of femininity removed, her tall and slender body clad in masculine attire from head to toes, her face covered in simple makeup imitating a five o clock shadow. Even in her flat black leather shoes she was taller than Blanche in her high heels, and her voice did the rest.
Blanche entered the banquet happily, clinging on to Dorothy's left arm, like she would with a real date. A lot of the guests kept looking at them as they walked by, and Dorothy blamed it on Blanche's daringly low-cut red dress, since the stangers' eyes lingered on the southern belle far longer than on her. Everything went perfectly, except a little insecurity when Blanche had to introduce her date to an acquaintance from the museum, and realized that she hadn't even made up a name.
"Oh, err, he's uhm… Robert – isn't he a catch?"
"My pleasure, Sir", Dorothy said, as she shook hands with the man, completely absorbed in her role.
"He lectures at Miami State, Mel. We met at the library you know…"
"Very nice to meet you, Robert. What's your faculty?"
"Arts and humanities," answered Dorothy as naturally as if she really were a professor and hadn't got stuck substituting at high school. "Department of English literature, to be precise."
For a while, the three chatted about arts and books, until it was time to sit down and the more formal part of the evening began. They enjoyed the dinner and the charming if maybe a little superficial conversation with the other people at their table. From time to time, Dorothy glanced at the beauty beside her, who was sensual and elegant even eating, wishing that this wasn't just a once-in-a-lifetime exception, a farce with her pretending to be someone she wasn't. Yet the sight of Blanche, chatting happily with her colleagues, and the casual touch of her hand on hers in a gesture of romantic tenderness and affection made up for it.
By the time dessert came, the several glasses of champagne Dorothy hat downed since arriving at the banquet began to have an effect on her, and she could easily pretend it was all real. Especially when after dinner, and after the last speech by another presumably important fat guy in a suit, the band began to play and everyone seemed to rush onto the dancefloor.
Blanche got up and as Dorothy, or Robert, didn't follow her immediately, she stepped to her side, leaning down to speak to her.
"What's the matter, don't you want to dance?"
Dorothy looked up and was met with the most tender and beautiful blue eyes that made her heart beat twice as hard and ten times as fast.
"Are you sure?"
"Why of course, Robert," Blanche said, adding in a whisper, "anything else would be highly suspicious." And with an encouraging smile, she pulled Dorothy up from her seat. The usually so timid substitute teacher lost the last of her inhibitions when Blanche took her hand and dragged her along to the already quite crowded dancefloor. As if she'd been waiting for this moment all her life, Dorothy layed her arms around her beautiful date and started to lead her to the rhythm. Blanche smiled at her, and reduced the distance between them as she was getting more and more comfortable.
A few songs later, the band started playing the first chords of Unchained Melody. Couples around them either left or got closer together and danced to the romantic song. Dorothy stopped for a second, wishing nothing more than to go on but afraid she'd have to leave it be, but to her surprise, Blanche simply closed the gap between them. Slowly, her arms closed around her, and her head came to rest on Dorothy's shoulder. The unbelieving surprise quickly turned into butterflies in Dorothy's stomach, as she held Blanche tight and they started dancing to the slow music. Eyes closed, inhaling the sweet, enchanting perfume of the southern belle, Dorothy wished this evening could go on forever. She could feel Blanche's petite warm body pressed against her, feel the weight of her head against her shoulder, the gentle pressure of her arms wrapped around her. Forgotten was the banquet, the charade she was playing – the only truth was right here in her arms, and it was perfection. She didn't even notice how her hand began to wander, up Blanche's back to her neck, caressing the soft skin below the hairline, while the other one remained on her waist, holding her tight. Blanche responded by tightening her embrace, and Dorothy could feel her breath against her neck as the belle let out a small sigh.
They didn't stop when the song ended, practically oblivious to what was happening around them. Dorothy didn't know how much time had passed, when she heard how the singer started to sing Only You, accompanied by the exceptionally good band. During the first verse, she remained still in the embrace, slowly dancing while her heart wanted to explode. Then, she couldn't stand it anymore.
Gently, she withdrew from the closeness just enough to look into those brilliant eyes Blanche curiously directed at her. Dorothy returned the glance, lifting her right hand to cup the smaller woman's cheek. Blanche looked at her quietly, her eyes very open and her lips slightly parted. Dorothy could not bring herself to break the connection, looking as if in those clear blue eyes lay the solution to all her life, while all she was hearing were the sweet words of the singer.
Only you
Can make all this change in me
For it's true
You are my destiny
She slowly moved her hand behind Blanche's head, and as she started to pull her in, she saw the look in her eyes change. In her glance lay no more doubt. Slowly, she tilted her head and without hurry, they got closer until finally, their lips brushed in a gentle first kiss.
When you hold my hand
I understand
The magic that you do
You're my dream come true
My one and only you
Dorothy was still somehow afraid that Blanche would pull back, maybe slap her, but she didn't. Instead, the southern belle pulled her closer and skillfully deepened the kiss. Dorothy responded with all the love she'd held back so long, tenderly caressing the perfect woman in her arms. Forgotten were all the people around then, all the world around them. Blanche tasted of wine and chocolate cake, of her incredible self and everything she had ever dreamed of. She was soft and sweet and made her lose what was left of her mind.
They didn't even notice when the romantic song ended and a more lively one started, not until Mel, the guy they had met earlier, bumped his fist against 'Robert's' shoulder.
"Get a room you two, will ya?"
"Oh shut up Mel, you're just jealous," Blanche exclaimed, before taking Dorothy's hand and leading her off the dancefloor.
"Are you not going to talk to me?" Blanche exclaimed after entering their shared home and seeing that Dorothy was heading for her room. They had spent the car ride in an awkward silence, and she was not ready to leave it at that. Angrily she stormed into Dorothy's room right after her.
"What do you think you're doin?"
Dorothy turned around to her, and all the happiness she'd felt at the party seemed to have turned into bitterness.
"I'm sorry. Let's just…maybe this wasn't such a good idea."
"Dorothy, please talk to me! What happened?"
Blanche watched as her usually so tall and strong friend sunk down on her bed like a picture of misery. Quickly, she sat down beside her.
"I thought I could deal with it. I'm sorry I ruined your banquet."
"What are you talking about, honey? You didn't ruin it. You were a perfect date, your Robert was all I could've wished for."
"Blanche…" Dorothy sighed heavily before going on. "That wasn't Robert who kissed you. That was me."
Blanche stared at her, puzzled.
"Don't you see, Blanche, I'm so in love with you," Dorothy said, with tears were forming in her eyes. "Me, plain, old Dorothy." She stood up and turned away from Blanche, taking of her jacket and trying not to cry.
"But-"
"If you want me to leave I understand. I can be out by-"
"No, no, no. Wait." Blanche had come up behind her, and gently placed her hand on Dorothy's shoulder. "I… I'm just a little confused. I don't know anything about… this. Are you… are you like Jean?"
Dorothy hesitated a while before answering, and when she did, she had to sit down again.
"I don't know. I mean, I didn't exactly marry Stan out of love, but there have been others that I… Men, yes, but not only. There've been some women too, throughout my life, but it never seemed to work out in the long term. Maybe bi is the better word."
Blanche looked at her silently for a while. Then she said, "I've never… you know, felt this kind of stuff, not for a woman. I mean, it was nice dancin with you, fun, but… when you kissed me-"
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have."
"It didn't feel any different. I mean, it could've easily been a real Robert. I think as a matter of fact I got a little lost in the moment," she added, blushing slightly.
"You wouldn't have if I hadn't been dressed up though."
"Probably not," Blanche agreed, lowering her head. "It was nice, though," she added, quietly.
Dorothy stared at her, perplexed. "You were so gentle, and soft."
"What are you saying, Blanche?"
"I don't know, Dorothy, I don't know. I always loved you as a friend, you know that, but … it's just that right now I'm really… lost. And you know I'm not used to this, especially not when it comes to love affairs."
"I know. You always know what you want."
Blanche sighed and reached down to her feet to free them from the high heeled pumps that were getting more and more uncomfortable.
"Maybe we should just go to bed and sleep on it all."
Blanche looked up, and after a moment, she nodded. "Maybe."
She got up, stepped to the door and turned around again. "Good night."
"Good night, Blanche", Dorothy responded, and after the door closed behind Blanche, she couldn't hold back anymore. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she took of the damn suit and slipped into her favorite pink nightgown. Since she didn't hear anything from the bathroom, she quickly went there and got ready for bed. She especially enjoyed tangling up the fancy orderly and way too male hairdo and making her hair look like hers again. Finally there was no more disguise, this was who she was. Sad, old, and alone. Wiping her tears away with a careless move of her hand, she returned to her room.
In there it was dark and lonely, just as usual. But this time, it hurt. Since she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, Dorothy grabbed a pen and a notebook from her desk before climbing into bed. She slipped under the cool covers, leaning against the wall and pulling her knees up to her chest. There she placed her notebook, flicking through until she found an empty page. The pen ready and waiting, she sat there just breathing and thinking for a moment, before she started to write down the verses. She hadn't really written for a long time since her poetry dabbling days back in high school, but recently she found herself drawn to her old passion again. Actually, ever since she'd started to fall in love with her roommate. It helped her cope, and it was pretty much the only means of expressing her feelings that she had – that she'd had before this night.
She had been writing for a good while, with only a few tears blurring her vision from time to time, when suddenly she heard a knock on her door. She looked up in surprise. They knocked again.
"Dorothy? Are you awake?" she heard Blanche ask quietly from the other side.
"Come on in," she said, not sure where this was going.
Slowly, the southern belle entered, and closed the door silently behind her. She was wearing one of her more elegant, silk nighties, so low cut and figure hugging that Dorothy could physically feel her heart trying to self-destroy.
"I'm sorry, am I interruptin you?"
Dorothy shook her head and put the notebook away. "Just some silly writing."
Blanche sat down carefully at the end of the bed. She looked upset, a lot more nervous than she usually was around her friend. Her blue eyes switched restlessly between the floor, her hands, and briefly, Dorothy.
"I couldn't sleep."
"I'm sorry."
Blanche shook her head. "Don't be. It's me. I just needed to be with you."
"You know my door's always open for you."
"I don't know how to say this," Blanche started, letting her eyes wander over Dorothy as she sat there without any disguise, just her usual female self. "I told you I was a bit confused. I thought it would go away, once, you know, I was alone and rested. It didn't."
Dorothy listened attentively without taking her gaze off the southern belle, true to her name even at this hour, in this state.
"Maybe it's the drinks, maybe it's just…" Blanche sighed. "I don't know what I'm feelin anymore, Dorothy. You're no longer dressed up, and yet I still-" she clutched her fist to her chest. "I still feel very much attracted to you."
Dorothy stared at her, unable to pronounce a single one of the million thoughts that crossed her mind, while Blanche moved a little closer to her.
"Would you mind if I… if I kissed you again?" she asked huskily, leaning in very closely to Dorothy.
"Absolutely not," she whispered, wondering briefly if she'd fallen asleep and was dreaming all this. But when Blanche closed the gap between them, all doubts dissolved into thin air. The kiss was gentle, tender and soft, a shy exploration of undreamed of possibilities. Dorothy pulled Blanche in slowly, until they were united in a tight embrace. She kissed Blanche with all the love she felt for her, all those feelings held back for so long.
When she finally withdrew, Blanche smiled and her tiny nose crinkled in the most adorable way. "Yes."
"Yes?"
"I was right. It wasn't the disguise. It was you all along," Blanche said and snuggled closer to Dorothy. In a gesture of invitation, the substitute teacher lifted the covers. Blanche accepted and slipped in right next to Dorothy.
"So what you're saying is… even though I'm not a man, you still like me?" Dorothy asked incredulously.
"Yes. I don't know why, or how…," Blanche explained, "but I do know attraction when I feel it, and this one just wouldn't stop. I couldn't stand being away from you. I need to see you, feel you…"
Dorothy's cheeks turned increasingly red as Blanche continued.
"And I feel the same way now. It makes me happy to be with you. I love the way you look at me, and the way I feel when you do. Or when you touch me, or when you laugh. We've been best friends for such a long time, and I never thought I could feel this way, but… it's no different."
As she looked up again in Dorothy's warm dark-brown eyes, she saw the tears about to burst. Moved, she hugged her friend tightly.
"Don't cry honey, it's all fine now."
"I never thought you would – that you could… I mean for a woman, and much less me…"
Blanche pulled back and wiped away the few teardrops on Dorothy's cheeks. "Well, never before, that's true, but as Bill Ray Jefferson kindly pointed out on my 16th birthday, there's a first time for everything." Gently, she placed a kiss on Dorothy's lips.
"And what happened to A man has so much more to offer, y'know what I mean, Dorothy"?, Dorothy recalled one of the sentences she'd replayed in her mind countless times.
Blanche chuckled. "That was a long time ago. I'm just happy you don't prefer Rose over me."
"Are you kidding? How could I? I mean look at you."
"You're such a charm if you want to."
"And not to mention you're practically a college graduate."
"I wouldn't have made it without you."
Dorothy smiled, getting lost in the loving look of Blanche's ocean blue eyes.
"I still can't believe I'm not dreaming this."
With a cheeky grin, Blanche pinched her arm.
"Ouch!"
"See, you're not dreamin."
"Thank God," Dorothy said and softly kissed the beautiful woman in her arms. Together, they sank down into the sheets and under the covers.
"I never knew you were such a good kisser," Blanche whispered in between kisses.
"Then wait until you see what else I can do…"
Blanche giggled with joy and excitement at that prospect. But for that night, it was getting late. They kept exchanging kisses and sweet words, tender caresses of hands roaming carefully through unexplored territory, but they were both too sleepy to take it any further. United in an intimate embrace, they started to fall asleep. Dorothy was still awake when she felt Blanche's breaths become longer and deeper, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the southern belle had fallen asleep. For a while, she contemplated the beautiful face so close to hers, the smooth skin and the blush on her cheeks, the perfect red lips, the pointy little nose that was so damn cute. Again she felt tears of joy form in her eyes, and she tried not to cry. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this blissful.
Only as she felt unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she reached out to her bedside table to switch off the light. In the dark, she cuddled up to her sleeping love, and closed her eyes. Blanche's petite body adjusted to her position in her sleep, draping an arm around Dorothy and placing her head on Dorothy's shoulder. The sweet smell of Blanche's perfume, her hair and her own special scent were intoxicating to Dorothy, who was oh so used to sleeping alone. That night, she fell asleep with a smile and the sweetest dreams could not compete with reality.