Chapter 14: Siren Song, Part I

A light breeze carried scents of salt and sea grass as it lifted Daria's hair from her neck. The surf's distant roar and the plaintive cries of gulls accompanied their hollow footfalls on the boardwalk as she and Jane approached the massive, cream-colored edifice where Brittany Taylor's wedding guests would spend the evening. As Jane briefly stopped to swing her black utilitarian duffel bag to her other shoulder, Daria squinted through her glasses and saw that Brittany was having a mid-afternoon lunch with her soon-to-be-husband on the chic patio. Through she was nearly obscured by artfully trimmed bushes and flowering tropical plants, there was no mistaking her platinum blonde hair (now in a sleek bob) and the gravity defying, Jessica Rabbit-esque chest torpedoes that threatened to conquer her Great Prairie State University t-shirt.

Daria gently touched Jane's arm, breaking the trance she'd fallen into as she watched wave after wave roll up the sandy shore, and remarked, "Modern-day Betty Boop at ten o'clock." Wide eyed and cautious, Jane slowly turned her head toward the patio like an owl in need of oiling. Daria carefully brushed an errant lock of hair from her eyes, leaned close to her, and murmured, "Or we can walk into the ocean and pledge fealty to the Sea Monkey King."

This earned a wry half-smile from Jane. "I've already spotted a dozen perfectly pocket-sized rocks."

"All right then—we have a back-up plan."

The amused artist cocked an eyebrow at Daria and reached out to take her hand the way they'd discussed. As Jane had put it late one night in her studio apartment's twin size bed (amid an eclectic assortment of colorful paintings and disturbing sculptures), "May as well go full-on Indigo Girls at Dinah Shore Weekend from the start." By the time they had climbed the two shallow steps to the patio, their hands were clamped together in a mutually blood flow-restricting grasp that Daria believed would prove impossible to break until Brittany's anticipated squeaks of surprise had subsided.

A sudden yank on Daria's hand sent her stumbling forward as Jane caught her foot on a board, yelped, "Crap!" and nearly fell face-first into a potted palm. Daria reflexively shot out her free hand to steady her and wound up with a handful of purple plaid and boob as Brittany and her fiancé Terrance Bloom looked on, their mouths perfect "o's" of surprise. Well, Daria thought, that's one way to be up-front.

There was a flurry of motion as the almost-newlyweds leapt from their chairs, nearly toppling a mimosa in the process, and Brittany squeaked, "DARia! Jane! Are you both okay?"

Jane straightened her shirt as Daria awkwardly shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and replied, "Nothing that can't be fixed with a well-timed head trauma and accompanying amnesia for everyone on the patio."

Brittany hurried past the table and threw her arms around Daria as Terrance (tall, black, and shockingly nerdy) chuckled to himself, apparently delighted by his fiancée's irrepressible enthusiasm. Brittany exclaimed, "Get in here, Jane!" as she encircled the surprised young woman in an outstretched arm and pulled her into a group hug. Stepping back, the bubbly blonde extended a hand for Terrance to take and gently pulled the bashful man forward.

Daria could see he was in his early thirties. He wore large 1950s-style horn rims over his wide, kind eyes and sported a tan sweater vest with his polka-dotted bow tie and collared shirt. His slender frame towered over Brittany as she beamed up at him and then turned to the two young women, saying, "This is Terrance. He's a HISTory professor at Great Prairie State." She winked and went on, "He wasn't MY professor, though. And babe, this is Daria and Jane from HIGH school."

Terrance smiled and graciously shook their hands. "Britt has told me all about the famous Daria and Jane. Daria, I understand we have you to thank for Brittany passing her College Algebra course so she could get her degree."

Brittany added excitedly, "I do the WEATHer for a local T.V. station now." Terrance smiled, put his arm around Brittany, and gave her a squeeze. Then he turned to Jane and Daria and asked, "So you two have been best buds since your Lawndale High days with Britt, huh?"

Daria nervously looked to her girlfriend for help. Jane must have sensed her desperation because she quickly cleared her throat, took Daria hand, and said, "Actually, Terrance, these days we're more than buds."

Brittany's eyes widened and she was, for a few moments, speechless. Then a thoughtful look came over her face as she tilted her head to the side to fully take in the pair standing with entwined hands on the sun-washed patio. "Like SAPPho said, 'Love shook my heart like the wind on the mountain rushing over the OAK trees.' The power of mutual female afFECTion has proven itself throughout HISTory, from Queen Berenice and her lover MesopoTAMia in ancient Egypt to Ellen and PORtia today. I'm very HAPpy for you two!"

Stunned, the little group stood in silence until Terrance laughed and pulled Brittany close to him. "I just love her more every day."

Brittany squeaked, "Is it because of my new HAIRcut?"

After a bit more catching up and another round of hugs, they parted ways so the betrothed could get ready for the sunset ceremony and Daria and Jane could check in to their room. Soon, the two young women had risen to the second floor and stood on gleaming bamboo before a wide white door as Daria slid the key card into the lock. She wondered if Jane could see how quietly excited she was to show her the suite.

As Daria swung open the door, she heard a satisfying gasp come from Jane, followed by, "Damn, Daria, where is Jeeves hiding? Because the butler is definitely not invited to this evening's festivities." Her eyes sparkled. "Nor to the wedding."

Daria flushed and gave a short laugh as she closed the door behind Jane, who had dropped her bag on the floor and was approaching the bucket with champagne on ice atop the mantel of the white rock fireplace. When Jane turned to face her with the champagne held aloft and teasingly raised eyebrows, Daria took a mental photograph that she hoped would last forever: a happy Jane standing on the navy rug beside the fireplace with a turquoise ocean rolling behind her, beyond the balcony; a king size bed piled high with pillows in the colors of the sea; and a jacuzzi surrounded by fluffy white towels and encased in bamboo that matched the shining floors. Of course, Daria thought, the rest of the picture could be nothing but ash and charred limbs and I'd still keep it by my bed just to see Jane standing amidst the rubble.

There was a loud "pop" as Daria's companion pulled the cork, gave a surprised cackle, and turned to fill the two waiting glass flutes with champagne. She turned to Daria with a smirk and asked, "What should we toast to?"

"Hmm. The fact that Brittany isn't marrying Kevin?"

"True—that may have brought about the apocalypse." She picked up both flutes and walked carefully to Daria, then handed her a glass. Jane raised hers and said, "To Brittany and Terrance, who is the opposite of a bewilderingly popular football player who's taken one too many goal posts to the head."

Clink. "To the happy couple."

By the time Jane and Daria had unpacked, smelled all the high-end bath products, and finished their first glasses of champagne, it was time to get dressed for the wedding. Daria was untangling the pendant she planned to wear with her flowing navy blouse and gray velvet jacket when she heard Jane loudly clear her throat behind her. Turning around, she saw her raven-haired consort standing in a bra of violet lace and slim-fitting black pants cropped at the ankle. Her milky white skin was luminous against the backdrop of sky-blue curtains that had been drawn across the balcony doors. She held a white, ruffled shirt on its hanger in one hand as she said to Daria, "So, this thing has a zipper in the back that would require shoulder dislocation to handle myself. Care to help a girl out? There's champagne in it for you."

Already slightly buzzed, Daria smirked and asked, "Is this a ploy to get me, a hapless mortal, to heed your siren song and crash upon the rocks? The rocks are, in this case, your perfect bosoms in that purple bra."

"The longer I can keep you here, the better." Jane reached up to retrieve the bottle of champagne from the mantel, walked over to Daria, and topped off her glass. "Because god knows who we'll run into at that wedding."

Encircling Jane's bare waist with her free arm and letting her hand rest on her back, Daria replied, "I did see four shadowy figures approaching on horseback earlier. Maybe it's the apocalypse after all."

Jane took a sip of her champagne and leaned in to give Daria a sweet, tart kiss. "Nah. Upchuck isn't here, so Pestilence is missing."

Twenty minutes and one make-out session later, Daria and Jane were dressed for the wedding and standing in front of the fireplace. With a final kiss for courage, they linked hands and strode toward the door.