Stef slows down and backs up her car, trying to figure out where the music is coming from. It reminds her of Brandon, who she just dropped off at Mike's for the evening. Abiding by the terms of their separation agreement, she'll pick up Brandon on Saturday afternoon. She misses him already so when she hears a piano sonata playing in the distance, she is drawn to it, wanting to feel close to her little boy. She parks her car by a sprawling field of grass close to where she hears the tune.

As she follows the melody, the lawn becomes dotted, then increasingly crowded, with people sitting on picnic blankets. An aerial view of the park would look like a multicolored quilt with unique scenes of people on each quadrangle: a couple clinking wine glasses together; a family of four feeding two young children; a mother wrangling her toddler from crawling onto a neighbors colored square nearby; a woman gently swaying to the melody, the setting sun shimmering light in her dark, curly hair; a couple kissing, stretched out diagonally on their blanket; a group of friends talking as they reach for and dip into a smorgasbord of organic snacks and condiments; an athletic man sitting alone in lotus pose, reading.

The swaying woman…Stef walks back a few steps and looks again. For a fleeting moment, Stef sees herself charging across the blanket pastures and stepping indiscriminately on people's mini-territories; accidently stepping on fingers, knocking over wine glasses and containers of hummus. She instead takes a deep breath and searches for evidence of grass between the blanket patches. This is her path to…

"Lena?" Stef asks.

Lena turns with a blank look, not quite sure who would know her here. The blond that Lena turns toward is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, is no taller than she is and has shoulder length hair, an angular jaw line, fine features…and soft blue eyes. In that second of recognition, Lena's heart skips a beat; she smiles brightly and says, "Hi!"

And they just look at each other for a moment – which could have been 30 seconds or two minutes – genuinely happy to see each other and relieved by the absence of any unresolved tension. It's like they are starting anew. Stef's simple but direct statement at the committee meeting a few weeks ago lifted something between them; made it better again, reminded them both instinctively that regardless, they are on the same side.

"Sit down," Lena invites.

"I don't want to intrude…if you're with…," Stef stammers.

"I came alone," Lena confirms.

They gaze at each other a little longer until someone asks Stef to please sit down because she's blocking their view.

"What is this?" Stef asks as she settles onto Lena's blanket.

"It's the San Diego Symphony playing selections of classical music. They do it every Friday at dusk during the season."

"I think Brandon would like this," Stef says. "He's really good at playing the piano."

"You should bring him. We should..," Lena starts to say but her voice trails off into a mumble. She shakes her head.

"I just dropped him off at this father's," Stef says.

"Oh…"

"Ya…"

"Are things better since…?" Lena asks, referring to the coffee shop incident.

After a thoughtful pause Stef says, "No. I'm not sure if it'll ever be. He's really angry with me. Hurt mostly. I'll give him that. He needs the time. I have my own challenging issues with Brandon's father but I'm willing to work with him if he gets the help he needs. Other than that we do our best to make sure Brandon knows that we love him."

The tenderness in Lena's eyes touches Stef at her core; it tempts Stef into a trance of unabashed truth-telling. She feels like telling Lena everything about everything. She wants to tell Lena about why she and Mike are separated and why Mike can only spend 18 hours with Brandon. And she wants to tell Lena how comfortable she feels with her and how familiar Lena feels to her and how easy Lena is to talk to and how much she missed not talking to Lena for the past few weeks and how much she …

Stef hesitantly parts her lips, they quiver and she says, "You know, this is exactly what I need: a warm evening, the sun setting, relaxing music and good company."

Lena smiles. They watch and listen – listen mostly – in silence, letting the next hour of meditative music transport them far away from their worries and rules and limitations. Though their focus is trained towards the bandstand, they are very aware of the dynamic energy at play between them.

When the conductor takes his final bow and the applause subsides to a hush, audience members fold their blankets, collect their litter, fasten sleeping toddlers into strollers, and gradually leave the park. Lena and Stef, instead, remain seated and talk about the music genres they like and discover that they have a few in common including some of the same songs on their playlists. Stef gushes about Brandon describing the moment she realized he had a natural talent. At 3, he had climbed onto a piano bench and meticulously plucked out the tune, "Twinkle, Twinkle". Now he makes up his own songs. They talk about the musical artists they admire, then about the lyrics of songs that move them.

Lena stretches out on the blanket oblivious to the absence of the other people who used to be around them. All the inhabitants of the blanket states have long gone, left and returned home. The clink and whine of instruments being packed away is no longer in the background. The stage is black and deserted. Stef lies back on the blanket too. A spray of stars hover in the pitch blue sky above them.

"This is perfect," Stef says to herself.

"What?" Lena asks because she doesn't hear Stef.

"This moment is perfect," Stef says louder. "I have everything I need."

"Me too," Lena says closing her eyes.

Leaves rustle in the trees; insects begin their own night symphony of cricks and buzzes; and the traffic of a distance highway hums in the background. Stef sinks into the blackness underneath her heavy eyelids and floats there waiting for sleep, like a sinker, to take her under.

"Excuse me, ladies," a passing parks employee says.

Lena and Stef open their eyes with a start. Stef sits right up, instinctively grabbing for where her holster would be if she was in uniform.

"Ladies," Parks Guy says, "the park's closing. The show's been over for hours."

In a sleepy fog, Stef mouths the word, "Hours?" as she looks at the time on her phone. It reads, "11:43 PM"

"It's almost midnight," Stef says.

"Midnight?" Lena responds groggily. She is also in the midst of waking up.

"I could save you this spot for the next show," Parks Guy says, "but you gotta leave now."

Stef retrieves her police badge and holds it up to Parks Guy, "You could go about your duties. We'll find our way out."

"Of course, Officer," Parks Guy says and hastily walks away.

"That came in handy," Lena says, impressed.

"Works every time," Stef says rising to her feet. "Here"

Stef holds her hand out to help Lena up; Lena accepts the gesture. What Lena doesn't expect is how strong Stef is and how Stef's upward hoist brings them unsettlingly close to each other. Each feels the other's breath on her face. The rise and fall of their chests is hypnotic, even though they don't touch. Their joined palms – one is hot, the other clammy – noticeably pulsate. Any movement closer threatens them from ever separating. They search each other's eyes seeking an answer, guidance about what to do next; yearning for relief from this unbearable, building tension. Their breaths become shallower, come faster.

The roar of a low flying plane jars Lena back to the park and back to being a teacher at this parent's school. Like touching fire, she jerks her hand out of Stef's.

"I gotta go. I gotta home," Lena says nervously as she scrambles to collect her blanket; Stef unsteadily steps off the fabric as Lena yanks it out from under her.

"Don't go," Stef pleads. "We should talk."

"I can't," Lena says looking around to make sure she doesn't forget anything. "I can't do this."

"Don't just leave," Stef says taking a firm hold of Lena's arm. It is a touch so assertive that Lena almost submits to its yearning. "Something's happening…Lena, I really…We should really talk –"

Lena twists her arm out of Stef's grip and says, "Don't you understand, I don't want to talk now!" Stef is taken aback by Lena's agitation; it's a side of her Stef has never seen before. Stef steps back.

Lena takes a deep breath and looks deep into Stef's eyes. Calm befalls Lena; compassion, with a hint of regret, envelopes her voice.

"Talking is not what I want to do right now," Lena says. With a trembling hand, Lena softly caresses Stef's face. Stef closes her eyes. "I don't want to talk. I want to…I'm sorry, this is all too complicated. I have to go."

Stef stands alone in the park; this time very alone as she watches her new friend walk hastily away. All that remains are random scraps of left over litter that languidly moves with the gentle night breeze.

"I didn't want to talk, either," Stef says aloud to herself as she touches the warmth on her cheek that Lena left behind.