With their morning working out so well, the two women were in a perky mood and Annabelle verbalised the first thought that crossed her mind. It felt right to do so.
"You play me that chord progression you were playing earlier on. It sounded good."
Shyly, Simone got out her guitar and rested it on her thigh as she cast her mind back to the little melody she was working on. She stared way into the distance while Annabelle did her best to efface herself and not press at the flickering insecurities that still lurked in the depths of her lover. Presently, Simone's eyes brightened and she picked out the notes of the chords that anchored the melody before she became emboldened to embellish it with single high notes. The circle of notes danced in front of Annabelle's eyes before the melody faded away and she broke into a burst of excited applause..
"Simone, you really must, must do something with that melody you wrote. It's a crime to let it go."
"I didn't write it," Simone said in a charmingly self deprecating manner."I mean, I didn't get some sheet music and write down the quavers and tempos or whatever."
"Darling. That's exactly what song writing is all about," Annabelle replied in a voice just dripping with tenderness and laying her hands on her lover's shoulders." I mean, how did the Beatles learn to write songs? They played guitars and sang and some combination of melody and words came out of nowhere. One moment it didn't exist and the next moment, it did. That's what I try and do."
Simone remained silent for a long while, her lips slightly parted. The younger woman held back from pushing her point further as she knew that this very reflective woman was carefully weighing every syllable she had uttered, measuring it against the music that she loved and starting to get scared at the thought of stepping up to the mark and claiming her place as a songwriter. It was one thing hearing a favourite group or singer on stage and admiring their artistry but it was quite another thing to be suddenly invited up on stage to join the performance. She sat back and let Simone work through the conundrum.
"I guess I could do something with it if I had the words to go with it," she said at last in a quiet meditative fashion as her thoughts were verbalised zigzagging back and forth.."I don't think I could ever write original words. I've read too much poetry."
"Why don't you try and sing what you know best?" Annabelle answered ever so gently knowing how highly anxious her lover was. Simone nodded her head a couple of times and her eyes stared towards the far horizon while her lips mouthed silent lines she was deliberating.
"I have it Annabelle," she suddenly cried out excitedly. Her head inclined studiously as she studied her guitar, she started to pick out the melody and, briefly shutting her eyes as she started to sing. Not bad at all, Ms Bradley, the dark-haired woman thought with gentle irony at the situation as she appraised the simple, deft melody line that was conjured out of nowhere.
"I celebrate myself,
"For everything of mine is yours
My respiration and inspiration,
the beating of my heart,
the blood and air through my lungs,
light kisses, a few embraces, reaching around of arms,
The song of myself rising from bed
And meeting you."
"I'm really sorry, Walt Whitman. I really want to pay homage to your poetry but it kind of came out different. I can't work in the word "atom"- that just kills the song stone dead. I don't want my song to sound like a psalm ," Simone started to say at express speed as she realised that she'd been overtaken by a spirit she'd never known before. She instinctively moulded the words she knew so well to a new rhythmic conjunction of words, the physical prompt of her finger picking style and the melody she plucked out of nowhere. She remembered how often she'd declaimed the words to successive classes of seniors and she'd known by heart this even flow of words as she strolled along the lines of school desks, wrapped up in the rhythm of the words. This did not gel with the new rhythms she'd been practising for the last week or so, this new medium she'd been exploring.
"Don't worry, Simone, I love what you've created," came the gentle, laughing supportive tones from those all-knowing grey eyes from the shadows that understood her flickering thoughts."You can call it a Walt Whitman / Simone Bradley song, your very first composition. Getting the first song done is the hardest step of all."
Simone smiled shyly in the glow of her first creation in a brand new medium. She realised that she wasn't just a poetry fan but she had crossed the line without thinking to also become a musician and to think like one. New horizons in her life were opening up all the time.
Now they had money in their pockets and something to celebrate, the two women decided they deserved a little treat for themselves and going out to a restaurant was another step in terms of getting out into the wide world purely as themselves. Both women looked in their wardrobes and Simone slipped a dress into her hands and went into the living room to get dressed. Annabelle shrugged her shoulders imperturbably and was deliberating what she would wear
"Will I do? I know I've worn it before when we went to see your mother," came that beloved voice from behind Annabelle as the fair-haired woman suddenly came into view. Annabelle's mouth hung open. Simone had changed into that beautifully cut white dress of hers cut above the knee which showed off her beautiful slim legs. The makeup she'd applied had enhanced her natural beauty and she was a vision of loveliness. She'd worn it before as a prop to her respectability in facing her parents but this time around, she was wearing it as she was dressing up for her beloved.
"You're the sexiest babe I could ever hope to meet," stammered Annabelle."I can't believe that I'll be arriving at a restaurant on your arm."
"That sounds like heaven to me," Simone murmured blissfully, eying her lover's white, sleeveless low cut top and her jeans. It revealed the shapeliness of the younger woman's shoulders, her bare arms and the way her hair hung down her back. This was the way she'd envisaged Annabelle when those first feelings of desire had first seeped into her consciousness, that day she'd sat in the candle-lit chapel clutching her rosary beads.
It was nearly dark outside but a gorgeous arc of turquoise still remained being the dying gift of the sun. It was enough to light the way their shoes traced up the familiar pathway to the top of the hill. They fondly linked hands as they made their way to the car. Annabelle sighed to herself at the prospect of being driven by this gorgeous long legged beauty who took her place in the driving seat. They let the top stay down and risked the cold so that they could speed down the mysterious shadows of the night. They both thought the drive could last forever even if the chilly wind raised goose pimples as they wanted direct contact with the gathering night. They came into town as if transported on a magic carpet , and strolled down the street, arm in arm and laughing excitedly. Simone suddenly realised too late that the restaurant she most fancied was the one she'd last visited as part of a foursome with Michael, Barry and Lauren.
"What's wrong sweetheart,"Annabelle said softly. She had wondered if Simone's sudden nervousness was down to the glances they'd received from passing specimens of California's nightlife, whose moral disapproval was selective.
"Oh, it's nothing. I went here months back as part of a straight foursome," Simone said, casually differentiating herself from the woman she'd been."You remember that straight couple, Barry and Lauren who were hassling me in that bookshop?"
Annabelle put two and two together. She realised that she needed to speak to her lover's feelings, not just her words.
"Even if they weren't the assholes that they are and just regular guys, do they really have the right to spoil our meal? Can they really do it? This night is for us."
"So's every night," Simone laughed lightly, dismissing her flickering nervousness and continuing to speak in a dreamy, meditative fashion."Besides, I remember looking at two pretty woman who were intimate with each other. They got me curious when I hadn't really worked out who I was. None of the others saw them, only me. Come on, I'm ready to go in "
"That's cool. 'Cos I'm really starving. Come on, Simone,"that magically mercurial woman answered, slipping her arm through Simone's.
Together, they passed through into the womb-like interior, walking along the diamond shaped floor lighting and both women felt as if they were treading on clouds of exhaltation. The low lights of the restaurant flickered, casting a magical atmosphere and the head waiter ushered them to a cosy table for two that overlooked the view of diners out for a congenial meal. The thought occurred to both of them that they had a perfect right to pleasures that were universal. The waiter passed them a wine menu each and they quietly and quickly agreed on a bottle of house wine. Both women tuned into the sound of tinkling guitars that comprised the background music. This was perfection.
"This is so great, Annabelle," Simone said with eyes glowing with pleasure."Every date I've ever been on, I've always been with a wine expert."
"A guy you mean. Don't worry, I'm cool. You'd never treat me like shit, the same way you were," Annabelle said lightly, sensing the delicate irony with which Simone steered her way round the conversation. A wide, relaxed smile spread across the woman whose fair hair curled round her face and was so close to her across the other side of the table. She picked up her glass of wine and raised it in a toast.
"To our future together, sweetheart."
"To us and all our kind, darling," Annabelle answered, her beautifully phrased words and eyes that promised everything, clinking her glass against her lover's, knocking her out with the way she universalised their love.
The wine tasted like nectar, like the freedom they'd only recently become accustomed to. They chatted lightly to each other while time floated along until the waiter intervened with two copies of the menu.
"Oh God, this gets difficult,"Annabelle said with her delightful brand of comic dismay, her hands moving restlessly."I've been so used to eating what's in front of me that I'm really dumb at choosing what to eat."
Simone leaned over the table and softly kissed her lover's cheek, laying her hand briefly on the side of her head. It crossed her mind that she'd seen these two unknown women act like that all those months ago and this was another instance of her realising her dreams .
"Just relax Annabelle. I'll look at the menu and see what I like. You don't have to have the same as me but it might give you ideas."
Annabelle nodded her head, dumbly, grateful for the lifeline. Simone smiled gently about her partner's little foibles. She was conscious that the words that were forming on her lips were studied with rapt attention.
"Let me see, I don't fancy soup as it always fills me up but the fruit salad sounds really refreshing. I fancy fried chicken, salad and some french fries."
"I'll have the same,"Annabelle promptly said."Not because I feel I have to eat what you're eating but it feels right...I was real worried that you were going on a health kick when I still like Burger King meals sometimes."
Simone warmed to hear her partner's frank confession of her uncertainties. The rare little giggle that accompanied her words added to her indefinable charm that she didn't feel compelled to analyse to death. The waiter returned in their direction, seeing Simone indicate that they were ready to order. Annabelle took charge of their order while Simone sat back and let her get on with it. The waiter kept his surprise to himself that the older woman wasn't taking charge as he expected her to so he carried on with his professional duties with a long shift in front of him.
They chatted and sipped their way through the wine which wove its way round their senses along with the tinkling guitar music that phased it way in and out of their senses. They were both becoming slightly drunk though nothing much to speak of. The fruit salad was deliciously refreshing as the taste and the coolness slid down their throats.
"Just look at me- on a health kick after all these years. My parents would freak if they saw me eating this," laughed Annabelle lightly.
"That and everything else,"Simone said, neatly capping that last remark which made the younger woman laugh out loud
That appetiser only whetted their appetite for the main meal. When it was served, both women loved the sight of it spread out in front of them and the aroma that wafted their way. They'd had hardly anything to eat for several hours and were both definitely hungry. The meal that was set out in stages in front of them was a treat for the senses.
"Anyone else's cooking tastes better than my own," Simone said in an animated fashion as she cut slices off the succulent chicken and spiked a piece of lettuce.
"Simone, you're a great cook," the younger woman corrected her with a caressing tone in her voice."Someday, I'll catch up with you."
Their conversation tailed off as the combination of flavours got them to eat their meal heartily. At least we won't have to do the washing up, Simone thought to herself while Annabelle's twinkling eyes guessed the stray passing thought. The wine washed the meal down so comfortably and they really enjoyed this treat as the first of many occasions in the future that they'd be going out the same as any married couple whose numbers could be seen lining the tables spread out down the line. Simone reckoned that they were so comfortably prosperous that they took this pleasure for granted in their suburban boredom. She and her lover could never forget where they had come from, that they were sure of.
As Annabelle was eating the last of her dinner, she could see her lover's eyes glowing out of the near darkness and her luminous smile and she could feel soft skin stroking the side of her ankle. A long slow grin spread across her face. This must be Simone playing 'footsie' with her under the table, certainly judging by the expression on her face. They had been living through this warm, comforting envelope of sensations, thanks to low lights, tinkling music, good food inside them, a nice mellow feeling of comfortably spending a bit of money on themselves, the taste of good food and, above all, the presence of the most precious person in the world up so close. Throughout the evening, both women were glowing inside and now the naughtiness of this bit of foreplay out in public caused a rush of desires inside them.
"Want to have an ice cream and coffee to finish up with or shall we ask for the check?"asked Simone, smiling sweetly.
"Suddenly, I'm kind of not hungry, not that way," Annabelle answered, a wealth of sexual innuendo edging her voice.
"Just what I thought," came the answer as the only regret both women felt was that they would have to restrain their hormones on the drive back home. Visions of their bed and of each other tantalisingly awaited their presence.