Title: Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandoms: Guiding Light / All My Children
Pairings: Olivia and Natalia / Lena and Bianca
Disclaimer: The characters Olivia and Emma Spencer are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters Bianca Montgomery and Lena Kundera are owned by All My Children, ABC/Disney and Prospect Park. The characters Mariah Copeland, Tessa Porter, and Sharon Newman, and the companies Power Communications and Crimson Lights from The Young and the Restless are owned by Bell Dramatic Serial Company, Corday Productions, CPT Holdings, Inc., and Sony Pictures Television.
Again, thank you to my friend Bren for introducing me to these incredible characters and their unforgettable love story. I simply cannot get enough, not only of the characters, but of Cait Fairbanks' (Tessa Porter) music that is featured in their storyline. Cait is an extremely talented singer/songwriter, so if you enjoy acoustic music or music that isn't overly produced, give her a listen. All of her music is available for download on iTunes and via Youtube for listening, and some of the songs have been used in Teriah fan videos. If you like it, please download it legally. It's inexpensive, and by supporting indie artists, we encourage their creativity, and allow them the opportunity to continue giving us new content.
Anyway, as I've said before, CBS has come a long way in terms of LGBTQ representation since the Otalia days, but it's not enough, and we need the community's help. If you're not watching them, I strongly encourage you to check them out, and then join the campaign to protect them because, like so many of their predecessors—FAB, BAM, Lianca, Breese, Minx, and Otalia—they're in jeopardy of being lost to us forever.
Okay, I'm off my Soapbox now, so to speak…
The original characters of Tracy, Jennifer, Jacob, Dylan, and Gia Jackson-Morgan, and Jordan Montgomery-Kundera are the property of this author, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This chapter's title comes from Shakespeare's The Tempest, Act 2, Scene 1.
No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, AMC, ABC/Disney, Bell Dramatic Serial Company, Corday Productions, CPT Holdings, Inc., and Sony Pictures Television, or any other entity. With the exception of a brief reference to the 5.31.2019 episode of the Young and the Restless, the dialogue and story content in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
This updated has not been edited. All mistakes are my own.
Rating: Chapter 7 is rated PG-13, though this story will eventually reach NC-17.
Synopsis: It's a stroll down memory lane for Olivia and Natalia, Lena and Bianca, and their friends and family, as two of our favorite couples' daughters prepare to enter into wedded bliss, in a double wedding… of sorts…
Author's Note: Pay particular attention to the transitions in time, as this chapter contains flashbacks.
Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived
Copyright September 2012
"What's past is prologue, and the world awaits."
— Lisa Mantchev, Eyes Like Stars
Chapter 7.7—What's Past is Prologue:
The Jackson-Morgan Household, Springfield—Monday, June 11, 2029, 11:15 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Arms loaded down, Tracy Jackson-Morgan fiddled with the lock on the garage entrance to the house she had shared with her wife and children for nearly twenty-five years. The trinkets on her keychain jingled as she wiggled the house key, searching for just the right spot for it to catch. She'd been meaning to swap out the locks for a few weeks now, since this one started sticking, but with all the hubbub of the wedding, that particular task had gotten lost in the mix.
When the deadbolt clicked, she turned the handle, and pushed the door open with her sneaker-clad foot, entering the house. She was immediately greeted by three things: an excited little ball of white fluff with blue eyes—their six-month-old Husky puppy, aptly named Siku, the lovely fragrance of fresh flowers filling the kitchen—Jen must have picked some roses from their flower garden that morning, and the resonant sound of piano suffusing the air—Dylan was home.
She knew he was there, of course. His car was in the driveway. And though he no longer lived with them, he visited often, always making a little time to play the piano, not only because he loved it, but because he knew it made his mothers happy. Tracy smiled, thinking about how much that meant to her and Jen.
"Dylan?" she called out to her son as she moved through the utility room and into the kitchen.
"Be right there, Mom," Dylan answered from the living room.
Tracy smiled to herself again, as she set an armload of grocery bags on the counter. She never tired of hearing her boys call her "Mom." They were Jen's children from her first marriage, but Tracy had raised them since they were babies. She would have fought to the death with anyone who tried to deny that they were her own. Nearly had, in fact, when Jen's late husband's father, Preston Morgan, attempted to win custody of Jacob and Dylan many years prior. But that was long-since an issue of the past.
"Hey, Mom," Dylan greeted, as he bounded into the kitchen with the vibrance of a five-year-old. "More bags in the car?"
"Several," Tracy answered. "And I picked up your tux from the dry cleaners. Mrs. Porter said to tell you hello, and that you need to come see her more often."
Dylan grinned, almost sheepishly. Mrs. Porter was their dry cleaner's wife, and one of his former high school teachers. She was retired now, and helping her husband at the store. He had hoped to see her when he picked up his tux later that afternoon, but Tracy had taken care of that errand for him, and though he was disappointed to miss seeing her, he was grateful for his mom's help. "I'll drop by as soon as we get back," he assured, referencing the trip he would soon be taking. "Thanks for picking up my tux, by the way."
She smiled, and gently patted his cheek. "It was no trouble. I was there picking up a few of your mom's suits, anyway," she said of her wife, who was now a regional manager for BGRC, the corporation founded by their friends, Olivia Spencer-Rivera and Lena Montgomery-Kundera.
The scruffiness of the five o'clock shadow he sported even at ten in the morning was almost amusing to her, and she scratched it with her fingertips. "I hope you're planning to shave this off before tomorrow," she commented.
A roguish grin teased at his lips. "Well, the wedding is at the farmhouse, so I thought I'd go for the whole barnyard look," he teased. "Think Em would like that?"
"I think Emma would be fine with whatever you choose," Tracy contended. "But your mother and I would appreciate a clean-shaven face."
"Spoil-sport," Dylan accused.
Tracy laughed, and reaching up, she grasped his face in her hand, shaking it playfully. "We just wanna see that gorgeous mug of yours in the wedding photos and the family portrait Lexie is taking for us tomorrow."
At the age of twenty-one, Alexandria Montgomery-Kundera, second eldest daughter of their friends Lena and Bianca, had already proven herself an accomplished photographer. She was studying at Boston University to become a photojournalist, and would be serving as photographer at the double wedding the following day—a wedding gift for her older sister, Jordan and her lifelong friend, Emma.
A single nod and the lowering of thick, dark lashes marked Dylan's compliance. "Yes, Ma'am."
Just then, Jen wandered into the kitchen in search of some iced tea, finding her wife and youngest son chatting.
"Hi, Babe," Tracy chirped, leaning over to kiss her. "I'm surprised you're in already."
"When the music stopped, I figured you were home," Jen shrugged. "I couldn't wait to hug you," she said with a mischievous grin.
"You're soaking wet!" Tracy squealed when Jen wrapped her in a playful hug. She was clearly fresh out of the pool on that sultry summer morning.
"And you're beautiful," Jen whispered, kissing her again; this time, more thoroughly. If Dylan hadn't been standing right there, she would've responded with a far more risqué comment, but this one was just as effective, only in a different way.
Her face flushing, Tracy smiled. "Thank you," she said softly, thinking how blessed she still felt to be married to this woman.
Jen always made a point of telling her that she grew more stunning by the year, and though it made her blush profusely, Tracy never tired of hearing that her wife still found her attractive, desirable. Truth was, at forty-three, naturally, her face had matured, but she was still strikingly beautiful, with the same muscular build she had carried since high school. And she wore her mop of thick, dark curls a bit shorter now, but not too short as to take away the pleasure her wife Jen found in burying her fingers in it when they made love.
Reaching up, Tracy took Jen's face into her hands. "Twenty-five years in, and you are still the woman of my dreams," she whispered, kissing her tenderly.
A moment later, there was a rumbling at the patio door, and then it flung open.
"Dylan!" The shriek that emanated from the small form of Dylan's younger sister Gia as she bolted through the open door caught his attention, and he spun around toward the source. She was dripping wet from her morning swim, but couldn't have cared less about getting into trouble for tracking water all over the house. Getting to Dylan was far more important.
"Hey, Squirt!" he greeted, as she jumped into his arms. She was nearly fourteen now, and still his biggest fan.
She kissed his cheek, and squeezed him tight. And then she met his gaze with eyes as dark and sparkling as his own. "Are you just really, totally, super excited about marrying Emma tomorrow?"
Gia's enthusiasm was contagious. Dylan shared a brief, yet meaningful glance with his mothers, and then a slow grin spread across his face, bringing those gorgeous dimples out to play. "You have no idea," he mused.
"I'm excited too," Gia announced, as he set her back on the floor.
Dylan laughed. "I couldn't tell," he said drolly.
"Oh, stop," Gia guffawed, as she playfully slapped his arm. "Emma's super awesome."
Dylan couldn't have agreed more.
Rounding the edge of the counter, Tracy firmly patted Dylan's arm. "We're all excited," she said with affection. "Em is good today?" she inquired.
Dylan responded with a smile and a nod. "She's fine, Mom. A little nervous, but fine."
"Well, that's to be expected," Jen normalized.
Dylan laughed. "I figured," he said. "But I didn't expect that I would be nervous!" He stressed the part about himself.
"It's new to you too, son," Tracy noted. "Once you're up there, you'll be just fine. But just in case you need to talk later, you know your mom and I will be here."
"Thanks, Mom," Dylan said appreciatively.
"You're very welcome, mi Cariño," Tracy said softly, calling him by the familiar childhood endearment. "Now go get the rest of those bags outta my car, would ya?"
"Sure thing," he grinned. "Come on, Squirt," he said to his sister. "I could use a little help out there."
"Omigosh, Dylan, did you know Tessa Porter was gonna be at the wedding tomorrow?" Gia gushed.
Dylan chuckled as he opened the utility room door into the garage. "Well, she's friends with both Emma and Jordan, so of course she'll be there."
"She's my favorite singer ever," Gia crooned.
Amused by his little sister's enthusiasm, Dylan ruffled Gia's head of dark curls. "Em's too."
"Think she's gonna sing?" Gia asked.
"Guess we'll find out," Dylan answered with enthusiasm, not wanting to ruin the surprise.
As she watched her two youngest leave the house through the garage door, Tracy couldn't help but tear up. Without a word, she turned to Jen who, as always, was right there to embrace her when she needed it most. No explanation was necessary, Jen just simply understood.
"You've always been so good with him," Jen whispered encouragingly. "Your support has gotten him through some really rough times."
Tracy sniffed. "I know…"
Fresh tears began slowly trickling down Jen's cheeks. "You saved our son's life, Tracy," she whispered in acknowledgment. "I don't know if I've ever told you how grateful I am for that."
Her own tears flowing, Tracy nodded. "You have," she assured. "But you never needed to. He's my son," she said with conviction. "Of course I fought for him. You did too."
"Yes," Jen acknowledged. "And thanks to you, he's so ready now to embrace the future."
"It's so weird," Tracy sniffled, "feeling both happy and sad at the same time."
"I know, Babe," Jen said empathically. Gently, she stroked Tracy's hair. "But it's normal to have mixed emotions at a time like this."
"It just seems so silly to be this emotional," Tracy sniffed. "He hasn't even lived with us for years!"
Lifting Tracy's chin, Jen locked her gaze on those teary brown eyes and smiled. "Yes," she acknowledged, "but he'll always be our baby boy."
Tracy smiled through her tears. "Yes," she nodded. "Yes, he will. Just like you will always be the love of my life."
Smiling in response, Jen leaned in, kissing her tenderly. "Right back at ya, Babe."
The Pied Piper, Provincetown, Massachusetts—Saturday, October 16, 2021, 9:30 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Despite a purposeful dearth of advertising, word spread like wildfire across the Cape that Tessa Porter was playing a set at The Pied Piper, and by nine-thirty that evening, the place was packed to capacity. It wasn't surprising, given her wide-reaching popularity, especially among the LGBTQ community, but still, the reaction blew Tessa away. It didn't matter that the weeklong event offered multiple opportunities to see her perform, her legion of fans flocked to every single one of her performances throughout the week.
Having grown up without any emotional support, Tessa felt blessed to have such devoted fans, and even more blessed to have Mariah in her life, because she was the one who believed in Tessa, even when Tessa lost faith in herself and in her gift. Those were dark, stormy days, and Mariah was the sunlight, the breath of fresh air, that broke through the thunderclouds and gave her a life she never dared dream possible. Mariah was everything, and Tessa vowed to never, ever forget that.
Mariah was equally devoted to Tessa, and vowed to support her dreams wherever they took her. That was why, despite her hectic work schedule as head of Power Communications, she had come with Tessa on this weeklong excursion. What could be done remotely, she did, and everything else could wait. That was her theory, and for the past two years everything had worked out fine. She saw no reason why that would ever change.
Backstage, Mariah watched, arms crossed, as Tessa paced the small space that doubled as a make-shift dressing room, wringing her hands. "This is ridiculous," Tessa muttered more to herself than to Mariah. "I've played to packed stadiums. Why am I so nervous about playing in this little club?"
Pushing away from the doorframe she'd been leaning against, Mariah moved across the room toward her. A soft smile percolated on her lips, causing a hint of her dimple to surface, as she reached out, taking Tessa's hands into her own. Tipping her head to catch Tessa's worried gaze, she said, "Probably because it feels so intimate."
"Probably because it is," Tessa said, exaggerating the reality of it. She tended to do that when she was nervous.
"And?" Mariah pressed, urging her to dig deeper.
"And that scares the crap out of me," Tessa admitted anxiously.
Pressing a light kiss to Tessa's mouth, Mariah tousled that sexy mop of shaggy dark locks. "Exactly," she said softly.
The corners of Tessa's mouth lifted into a wobbly smile. "Sharon's social work skills are rubbing off on you," she said, referring to Mariah's mother.
"Only because I know you so well," Mariah said, caressing Tessa's cheek affectionately.
"You're the only one," Tessa murmured.
Locking into her gaze, she took Tessa's face into her hands. "And I'm still the luckiest person in the world to be given such a gift," she whispered.
Tessa felt her face flush, and a soft smile flickered across her lips.
"When you're out on stage, just keep your focus on me," Mariah encouraged. "Sing for me, like you do when you're sharing a new song."
Searching Mariah's eyes, Tessa's smile reflected therein. "I'm always singing just for you," she whispered.
A soft sound of approval fell from Mariah's lips. "It always feels that way to me, too," she murmured. "Like I'm the only other person in the room."
"I hope I always make you feel that way," Tessa said, leaning in to kiss her tenderly. Their lips parted briefly, only to be reunited a moment later—Tessa always went back for just a little more of her Mariah. The kiss lingered, and the next awareness was Mariah's hands tangling in her hair as Mariah deepened their connection, and soon they were lost in one another, just as they had once been found.
The Pied Piper, Provincetown, Massachusetts—Saturday, October 16, 2021, 9:45 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Across the bar, Emma spotted a tall, attractive woman wending through the crowd, with a petite brunette in tow. Her shock of red hair was short, wavy, and a little bit wild, giving her the look of a woman who had recently been kissed, and thoroughly so. The brunette was a classic beauty, and her eyes shone as she peered up at her partner, a questioning expression on her face. They looked a little overwhelmed by the crowd as they searched for a place to hang, and Emma rescued them with a motion of her hand, inviting them to share their table. The two of them looked friendly enough, and she wouldn't mind making a few more friends. And the tall redhead appeared to be both thankful and relieved.
"We've got plenty of room," Emma said once the couple was standing close enough for conversation. "Feel free to join us if you'd like."
"Thank you," the redhead said appreciatively. Setting her beer on the table, she offered her hand to Emma, introducing herself. "Nicole Haught," she said, firmly shaking Emma's hand, and then Jordan's.
"Emma Spencer-Rivera," Emma replied with a warm smile, and Jordan followed suit.
"It's nice to meet you both," Nicole said warmly. And then she glanced at her partner. "This is my fiancée, Waverly."
A bashful smile played on Waverly's lips. "Hi-eee!" she greeted with a cute little wave that drew smiles from all three women.
"Waverly…" Contemplation etched on her face, Emma said the woman's name slowly, rolling it around on her tongue curiously. "That's such a beautiful name."
Waverly blushed and shrugged. "Thanks."
Helping Waverly out of her denim jacket, Nicole pulled out one of the high-top chairs, and seated her fiancée first. She hung the jacket on the back of Waverly's chair, and took the seat beside her. She leaned forward, decreasing the distance between herself and the others. "So, where y'all from?" she asked with a slight southern lilt. Not surprisingly, very few people they'd met during Women's Week were actually from Provincetown or the immediate vicinity.
"Springfield, Illinois," Emma answered.
"Pine Valley, Pennsylvania," Jordan replied with a raised hand.
"Let me guess," Emma said with a grin as she glanced at Nicole, "You're from Texas."
A lighthearted laugh tripped over Nicole's lips, spilling forth as though it were a frequent occurrence. "Originally, yes," she confirmed. "Dallas/Fort Worth area. But I live in Canada now, with Waverly. Little place called Purgatory, near Banff."
Emma nodded. "Oh, yeah, I know the place. My moms have friends who have a cottage on Lake Louise," she shared.
"We love to hike there," Nicole said. Glancing at Waverly, she smiled at the memories. "Beautiful area."
"It really is," Emma agreed from personal experience. She'd loved the times her family spent with Dani and Langston in Alberta.
"What line of work are y'all in?" Nicole asked.
Emma grinned. "What are you, a detective?" she asked teasingly.
"Guilty as charged…" Nicole chuckled, her face flushing. "Well, sort of… Actually, I'm the Sheriff in Purgatory," she answered. "Sorry if it sounded like an inquisition. Job hazard."
Emma found the rueful expression on Nicole's face charming. "No worries," she said with a casual wave of her hand. "I imagine it's hard to leave your skills at the office."
"Just like it will be for Em," Jordan said. She leaned over, resting her chin against Emma's shoulder, as she wrapped her in a warm embrace. "She's third year pre-med at University of Michigan—Ann Arbor," she said, pride evident in her tone.
Meeting Jordan's gaze, Emma smiled, her face suddenly flushed.
"Go Wolverines!" Nicole exclaimed, lifting her beer in salute, and drawing a laugh from Emma.
"Oh, yeah!" Emma heartily agreed, thinking that she really liked this woman already. "Especially during The Game next month," she added, speaking of the century-old match-up between the Wolverines and Dylan's team, the Ohio State Buckeyes that would be played at Michigan Stadium on Thanksgiving weekend.
"Right?" Nicole intoned.
Emma laughed, and turned her attention to Waverly. "It's my turn to play detective," she said teasingly. "What do you do?"
"I'm a… historian," Waverly replied, hoping that would suffice. It was difficult to put into words what she did for a living, but essentially, that's what she was: the town historian. "Which basically means I'm the geeky one whose mind has an endless capacity for useless information," she babbled in that cute little way of hers.
Emma grinned. Waverly reminded her of a little hummingbird—always moving, so full of life. She decided very quickly that she liked this young woman, as well. She was both adorable and sexy as hell, which reminded her a lot of Jordan, actually.
Reaching over, Nicole pulled Waverly close, pressing a kiss against her temple. "Yeah, but she kicks ass at trivia, in case you ever a fill-in," she said playfully.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Waverly shifted the focus off of herself. "What about you, Jordan?" she asked.
Sheepishly, Jordan raised her hand. "High school senior here," she said, somewhat embarrassed sitting there with such accomplished women.
Waverly reached across the table, giving Jordan's hand a supportive squeeze. "Hey, we've all been there," she said sweetly. "If we hadn't, we wouldn't have the careers that we do."
Jordan released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she said, feeling much better for Waverly's kindness. She offered a grateful smile.
Sensing Jordan's uneasiness, Emma draped an arm around her shoulder. "Don't let her fool you," she cautioned. "She's not just any high school senior. Jordan, here, is top of her class. She's also one kickass soccer, basketball, and softball player, and she has the voice of an angel. Takes after her mom that way." Not to mention she's the most beautiful girl I've ever known, she thought, but didn't dare voice.
Emma's unabashed praise made Jordan's heart soar, even as her face flushed deeply. Quickly, she sought to turn the attention away from her. "So, what brings you guys out tonight?" she asked.
"We heard Tessa Porter was playing," Nicole answered.
"Yeah, I hope we didn't miss her," Waverly said, bouncing in her seat.
"Has she been on yet?" Nicole asked.
"No," Jordan answered, shaking her head. "And I can't wait for her set."
"I just love her music," Waverly gushed, emphasizing the love part.
Emma grinned at Waverly's exuberance. "Same," she said, as Jordan nodded her own agreement. "We've been here for a few hours," she explained. "Didn't want to miss out on seeing her again."
"I can totally relate," Nicole said. "We'd planned to come earlier, but… we got a little distracted."
One look at Nicole's head of wild auburn waves, and Emma laughed. "I can only image how," she teased, causing Nicole to blush.
The conversation and mutual laughter flowed from there, even over the din of music and surrounding chatter, the four of them getting acquainted with one another. They shared stories about their families, and how and where they met, about hobbies and personal interests, the list of topics was endless, and there was never a moment of silence or awkwardness among them.
And only when Tessa finally took the stage, the roar of the crowd reverberating out into the street and across the Provincetown Harbor, did their conversation dwindle. The moment she appeared, all eyes were upon her—she was stunning in tight black pants, a heather-gray t-shirt, and the distressed denim jacket and JCV cap she'd worn in her first video. And once the clamor waned, she welcomed everyone, thanking them for joining her once again. She was always so gracious when it came to her fans.
Her set began with an emotional ballad about the feeling of safety that comes from knowing Mariah is always there with her, even during the darkest times as she fights the fears and anxieties that plague her thoughts, how Mariah brings a different perspective to things, how unrelenting she is in her love and support, and how, together, they always manage to survive even the worst that life throws their way.
And then she sang a song about learning how to trust, to lean into Mariah's strength, live in it, and how Mariah wouldn't let her give up holding onto her when times were tough. Next was a song about the regret she felt over hurting Mariah, and how she knew she needed to change if there was any hope of their relationship surviving.
A song, written with Mariah, though unwittingly so on Mariah's part—Tessa's music, Mariah's lyrics that Tessa had stolen—about feeling hurt and deceived, and how the lie of Tessa's feelings for her had felt so true to Mariah, followed. That song had nearly been the end of them, before they ever got started. But somehow, Mariah had found it in her heart to forgive Tessa's self-serving choice, and give her another chance. And though the lyrics were dark at times, the rhythmic cadence of the drum machine, the smooth, mellow tone of the keyboard brought about more than a few tapping feet and bouncing heads as the crowd enjoyed the tune.
Tessa's powerful ballad about self-acceptance, loving herself because of her bruises, scars, and marks, rather than in spite of them, about wanting to share herself intimately with Mariah in the light instead of the darkness, and asking Mariah if she could love her, needing Mariah to love her for exactly who she was because she didn't need to be fixed, brought tears to more than a few eyes, probably because so many of those in attendance to could relate.
Tears were replaced by smiles and tapping feet and swaying bodies as Tessa began an upbeat acoustic ballad about finding beauty even in the darkest days, and surviving the storm with Mariah at her side, the sound of the guitar strings as bright and crisp as Tessa's voice.
Several more songs followed, alternating between upbeat tunes and tender ballads featuring a mixture of keyboards, acoustic, and electric guitar, many of them based upon Tessa's own life experiences and reflective of the love she shared with Mariah, and even a few that were co-written with Mariah. And then Mariah joined Tessa on stage at her invitation, and the song that said it all made a return appearance. Emma felt the tears the moment she heard the opening chords radiating from Tessa's guitar.
A familiar hand slipped into hers, and she felt the sweet warmth of Jordan's breath against her ear. "Come dance with me," Jordan whispered, tugging her gently.
Momentarily, Emma froze. She'd barely survived that dance with Jordan last night. How could she possibly put herself in that position again? But one look into those sparkling brown eyes, and Emma forgot every single reason why this was a bad idea.
And then they were on the dance floor, and Jordan was in her arms, their bodies pressed together in perfect union. The world shifted on its axis, and everything felt right again. Despite her lingering fears, it always did. How much longer could she fight it?
Dear god, April 22, 2022—Jordan's eighteenth birthday—couldn't come soon enough.
She hoped she could get over her fear of fucking everything up before that day arrived. But for now, she simply sank into the warmth of Jordan's tight embrace, buried her face in that mass of soft curls at her shoulder, and reveled in the intimacy they shared during stolen moments like this. It was everything… just like Jordan.
As the lyrics poured forth from Tessa's lips with Mariah there gazing into her eyes, Tessa couldn't help but recall the feelings that welled up inside her as the lyrics and then the music first took shape in her mind. And then later, when she'd first sung this song for Mariah at Crimson Lights, Mariah's mother's trendy little coffee shop back home in Genoa City—the way Mariah had looked at her as she listened so intently to the lyrics, her body swaying to the rhythm of the guitar—the expression in her eyes was everything. Mariah had been so moved that she was rendered speechless at first, and Tessa's own insecurities surfaced as she awaited her lover's response.
Finally, her eyes brimming with tears, Mariah found her words, and the overwhelming joy that followed for Tessa as Mariah praised her work—her lyrics, the music, her incredible voice—nothing had ever felt better to her than to hear how much Mariah loved this song that she'd written just for her. And then there was the sparkle in those beautiful green eyes as Mariah sang her favorite part of the song back to her—the part about the sense of safety she'd discovered in Mariah's arms, in Mariah's love for her—as their voices blended together, it nearly brought Tessa to tears, both then, and right now as she lingered in the sweet memory.
And as the song drew to a close, the final chord reverberating throughout the club, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world, as Mariah moved toward Tessa, her teary gaze never wavering. Every time she heard Tessa sing that song, it felt as though she was hearing it for the first time. All of those long-ago emotions resurfaced, welling up inside her, and she nearly burst from all the love she felt for her—and from her. Taking Tessa's face into her hands, she searched those sincere hazel eyes, her thumb lightly caressing Tessa's cheek. "I love you so much," she whispered, and then she kissed her tenderly.
Emotions ran high between Emma and Jordan as well, as the song ended, and the crowd settled, listening intently to Tessa as she wrapped up her set. Untangling her body from Jordan's, they both immediately felt the loss—physically and emotionally—despite the fact that Emma's arms were still loosely circling Jordan's waist. As she lifted her head from Jordan's shoulder, Emma fell into that ever-steady gaze, and closing her eyes to fight off the urgent need to kiss her, she leaned her forehead against Jordan's, releasing a slow sigh. "We can't keep doing this," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "But god help me, I can't walk away from you."
"Good," Jordan whispered, gently wiping tears from Emma's face as she held it tenderly in her hands. "Because… I only ever want to see you walking toward me."
Emma's breath hitched, and she bit her bottom lip, releasing it slowly. Six more months, she reminded herself. Just six more…
It was so close, she could almost touch it. And yet, it felt like an eternity away…
TBC in Chapter 8—Showers and Thunderstorms…
Additional Disclaimer: The characters Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught from Wynonna Earp are owned by creator Beau Smith, NBCUniversal, the Syfy Channel, and SEVEN24 Films IDW Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended with regard to Wynonna Earp creator Beau Smith, NBCUniversal, the Syfy Channel, and SEVEN24 Films IDW Entertainment, or any other entity.
