The recorder crooned a delicate melody, echoing in their small motel room. Carol and Therese had opted to sit on the beige carpeted floor, leaning against the settee instead. The pair had been reminiscing stories from their youth, whilst sampling make-up and perfumes that were scattered in the small space between them. However, the combination of the long drive, dinner and cheap wine was beginning to catch up with them.
Therese felt pleasantly warm and slightly giddy from the alcohol. She mentioned to her companion of how it reminded her of when she had drunk her first shot of whisky that Jeanette and her group of girls at Montclair had stolen from Sister Patricia's office. She remembered how she found the giggling girls underneath the forgotten staircase in the west wing of the school. She would never know whether it was the girls' inebriation or their fear of being exposed to the sisters by Therese, why the girls quickly ushered a drink into her hands. From what she remembered from that night, she was surprised how she quickly settled in with the girls like they were all best of friends. She was happier and more content now, especially without the chance of oncoming vertigo and definitely with the better company.
She drank in her companion, who was retelling a story about a school dance once upon a time. Carol's grey eyes were far, far away in her memory. Carol chuckled at a joke that Therese didn't quite catch. Instead, Therese pondered about what Carol was like when she was younger. Was she part of a popular group of girls? Did all the boys ask her to school dances? She knew Carol would have been beautiful then too.
"Dance with me." Lost in her daydream, Therese suddenly interrupted. Realising her own indiscretion, her cheeks reddened. She felt like she was back in Montclair, trying to speak to Jeanette and her friends after that night, but quickly being dismissed. Brown hair made a curtain over shiny eyes, as she looked down on the worn tufts of the beige carpet to avoid her companion's eyes.
A beat passed, but it felt like forever to the young woman. Carol gracefully stood up on bare feet, smoothing down invisible creases on her tartan robe. With a hint of a smile, she offered her left manicured hand to Therese; who had yet to look up.
"Would mademoiselle like to dance with me?" Therese felt the older woman smirked. She looked up finally, habitually biting her pink lips. She was met with those knowing eyes that crinkled with only fondness.
The song was nearly over, but Therese took her hand anyways and stood up on shaky legs. Carol kept their hands clasped together and never losing contact for a moment; and led her to the middle of the room. She pulled the shorter woman closer with her other hand resting on the curve of Therese's hip. Therese kept her hand just above her companion's elbow, holding on to the soft cotton of her companion's robe. They fell into a natural slow and steady sway.
They were not physically touching anywhere else, but Therese felt like Carol consumed her whole being. When the shorter girl looked up, her green eyes traced the faint creases that began to line the older woman's closed eyes. It didn't mar her beauty though, Therese thought, but only added to her character. Carol's scarlet lips stretched into smile, as she softly hummed along with the rest of the song. Her golden curls glowed softly underneath the light, nearly creating a halo around her. With every breath Therese took, she smelt the perfume's lavender fragrance, fused with the faint musk of cigarettes, wine and something that was just indescribably Carol.
"Like an angel," Carol whispered in her ear.
Little by little, they drew closer to each other like fireflies to a light in the darkness of a motel room. Therese now understood: about Life's exact science of undeniable affinity between atoms, between hearts, between souls that would inevitably collide. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but in the here and now, Therese Belivet was in love with Carol Aird.
The song ended long ago but the two women kept dancing to the soundless beat of their hearts.