Waiting in the Wings (33 page)

Read Waiting in the Wings Online

Authors: Melissa Brayden

Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian

Adrienne took my hand in hers and I followed her into the cottage. Once inside, I sighed, feeling so wonderfully carefree. “You have no idea how nice it is to be back here. I feel like I want to scream from the rooftops or something.”

“Hmm. Do you think we can scream tomorrow?” She moved my hair aside and placed a solitary kiss on the back of my neck. My body answered her question before my mouth could, turning in her arms. I stared into her eyes and softly stroked her hair, slowly releasing it from the ponytail. It fell around her face in luxurious, loose waves. I was arrested by how beautiful she looked and a hot jolt shuddered through my body. We moved to each other at the same time, our mouths meeting in a clash of warm lips and tongues. Somebody moaned, maybe both of us.

Adrienne steered us into the bedroom, neither of us ready to stop what we’d started long enough to travel there like civilized people. We weren’t gentle and we weren’t graceful. We were a force of nature as our kissing continued. We bumped into walls, furniture, and the doorway until finally the backs of my knees slammed against the side of the bed, stopping our progress. Undressing each other was a luxury we didn’t have time for. I discarded my clothes as

quickly as possible and Adrienne did the same. When we came back together at the foot of the bed, her hands were all over me, moving across every inch of my exposed skin as her mouth played torturous games with my breasts. But when she grabbed my hips and pulled me toward her, I let out a small cry of pain. Adrienne froze. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?” she asked, searching my face in the dim room.

“No, no, I’m fine. Maybe be extra gentle with my left hip. It’s

going to take a few days to heal.”

“Heal?” she said, clearly worried as she looked down to examine my side. When her gaze lifted, she seemed struck. “When did you do this?”

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “A few hours ago?” “Baby.” She ever so softly traced her finger over the small tattoo of a shamrock, complete with a scripted letter A in the center.

“I love it.”

“Me too.”

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” “For us,” I answered.

“Us,” she repeated, nodding her head as the meaning of that word settled in. She slowly pushed me backward onto the bed and followed me down. “I love you.”

I reached up and kissed her, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck. “Thank God for that.”

e
pilOgue

Three Months Later

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping on the fire escape and smiled. I moved in closer behind Adrienne, draping my arm across her middle and nuzzling her hair, completely content to stay there forever. She stirred, turning to face me. “Hi, baby,” she said in her cute sleepy voice

“Hi.”

“It’s Sunday.”

“I know.”

“We should probably call in sick, I think, and stay here.” “Somehow, I don’t think our producers would like that too

much. It’s kind of a big day and I think people would notice.”

She kissed my nose. “You know, it doesn’t seem that important anymore.”

“You’ve got a point there.” I pulled her into my arms.

“God, I love these mornings,” she said, settling in. “This is all I need. This and maybe a little food. I haven’t seen enough of you in the past couple weeks. Hopefully, after tonight our schedules will settle into a more solid routine. I’ve missed you.”

“Me too. You know, it isn’t easy passing a three-story billboard of you on my walk to work each day. Thanks for that.”

She raised her head to see me better, an accusatory expression on her face. “Did you somehow miss the one of you two buildings

down? It drives me crazy having to see that thing every day, knowing I’m not going to see you until many, many hours later.”

“That so doesn’t count. It’s a silhouette of me dancing. You can’t see my face or even tell that it’s me.”

Her eyes widened in exasperation. “It’s a silhouette of your
body
, of which I have some experience.” She reached down, beginning to blatantly tease. “I think it’s fate’s way of torturing me.”

“Speaking of torture,” I said, inhaling sharply.

She raised her eyebrow. “Oh, you don’t like that?” she asked innocently. “I should stop?”

“Maybe…not.”

“Then I suppose I should finish.” There was a mischievous

glint in her eye as she moved down the bed.
Lord, help me.


The day couldn’t have been more picturesque as we rounded the last corner on the way to our respective theaters. There was a slight chill in the air and the sidewalks were bustling with the matinee crowds. It was one of those perfect Sunday afternoons, the sky so brilliantly blue your heart ached. We held hands loosely as Adrienne walked me to the Booth’s stage door and we ducked under the awning in Schubert Alley to say good-bye.

“Take care of that outfit. It’s one of my favorites.” She gestured up and down at the jeans and sweatshirt I wore. “Though I’m starting to think it looks better on you.”

I stole a kiss. “Not possible.”

“So where do you want to meet after work? We won’t have much time to get ready.”

“Well, with as much as the press is making about us being such cutthroat rivals,” I joked, “maybe we should meet somewhere in between our two theaters so no one suspects a hostile takeover.”

“I’ll meet you anywhere you want,” she said, nuzzling into my neck.

“Aww, shucks.” I put my arms around her. “Are you sure you have to go? You’re kind of nice.”

She pulled back and smiled wryly. “That’s what my contract says.”

“Damn.”

She picked up her bag and backed into the alley. “But I have good news.”

“What’s that?” I called after her.

“We have the rest of our life ahead of us,” she shouted back, blowing me a kiss good-bye. She turned and headed across the street to transform herself into a sassy nightclub singer. As she walked away, I knew I’d spend the rest of my life loving her. I looked up at the blue sky before me and couldn’t help but grin. Life was beautiful.


There were two minutes left on the commercial break and those in the audience at Radio City Music Hall chattered animatedly with their dates and colleagues while they still could. The place was a myriad of colorful evening gowns and designer tuxedos, a glamorous environment for theater bigwigs to rub elbows with one another.

Adrienne turned to me in her seat. “What time did you say the truck was expected to arrive? I want to be sure Kyle and Ben are at my place before they get there. We’re going to need more help unloading.”

“The company said anytime between nine and eleven,” I said. “Okay, so maybe I’ll tell them eight thirty. We could make

them breakfast first. What do you think?”

“Perfect.” I smiled as the orchestra struck up, signaling us we were going back live. After a brief introduction and a little patter between the presenters, the next category was read.

“And the nominees for Best Actress in a Musical are…”

Adrienne slipped her hand into mine and I offered her an encouraging squeeze. We’d jokingly told each other that whoever won, provided we weren’t both beat, would have to do dishes for a month to make it up to the other. All joking aside, I couldn’t help but hope the right name was read off of that envelope, and I had a very strong opinion on the topic.

The moment was now upon us, the moment I’d imagined my entire life, and it felt highly surreal. I don’t remember hearing the names of the nominees read, but Adrienne tells me that ours were announced back to back. I do remember feeling like my heart might jump out of my chest and just before the envelope was opened, I sent up a silent prayer and hoped with everything I had.

“And the Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical goes to… Adrienne Kenyon for
Cabaret
.”

I was instantly on my feet applauding, turning toward Adrienne who remained in her chair, stunned. I leaned down and offered her my hand, which she took before blindly walking to the stage. I covered my mouth as I sat, so incredibly happy that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I watched Adrienne gracefully ascend the stairs and accept her well-deserved award as tears glistened in both her eyes and mine. As the applause died down, she began to speak, her voice shaky with emotion. “Oh my,” she said, studying the award, “I’ve thought about this moment since I was ten years old and now that I’m here looking out at all of you, I don’t know what to say.” This elicited supportive laughter from the audience. “Wait, yes I do,” she countered firmly, to even more laughter. “I’ve always wanted to be an artist, to create believable characters that people would remember. Thank you to everyone who’s ever given me the opportunity to do that. Some of you believed in me when I thought of myself as nothing more than a washed up ex-television star, and for that I’m eternally grateful. To my cast, my beautiful cast, this would never have happened without your creative genius on that stage every night. What I do is only because of what you’ve given me. To my fellow nominees, I’m humbled to be listed among you. I think you’re all amazing. Lastly, to Jenna,” she said, choking up slightly. “This should be yours. Honestly, I’ve known that from the moment I saw you perform. But you have ownership of something else too, my heart, and that will never change. I love you. Thank you, everyone.”

I had trouble seeing through the tears as Adrienne exited the stage into the wings. I took a deep, calming breath but was unable to erase the smile from my face. This was the happiest I’d ever been

in my entire life and I laughed out loud at the irony. If someone had told me at twelve years old how thrilled I would be to lose the Tony Award for Best Actress in a Musical, I would have declared them certifiable. But life’s a tricky thing. It throws you curve balls.

Sometimes, it is in the pursuing of one dream that you realize another. Adrienne, and our life together, is that realized dream for me. She’s the truest thing I’ve ever known. And while it took a long time for us to come together, I can say with utmost certainty that I wouldn’t change a moment of it.

It’s our story.

About the Author

Melissa Brayden currently works as a theater director at the performing arts center of one of the largest high schools in the state of Texas, a job she completely enjoys. Recently, she’s fallen down the rabbit hole and rediscovered her love for creative writing.
Waiting in the Wings
is her first novel.

Melissa is married and working really hard at remembering to do the dishes. For personal enjoyment, she spends time with her Jack Russell terriers and checks out the NYC theater scene several times a year. She considers herself a reluctant patron of the treadmill, but thoroughly enjoys hitting a tennis ball around in nice weather. Coffee is her very best friend. www.melissabrayden.com

Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

Waiting in the Wings
by Melissa Brayden. Jenna has spent her whole life training for the stage, but the one thing she didn’t prepare for was Adrienne. Is she ready to sacrifice what she’s worked so hard for in exchange for a shot at something much deeper? (978-1- 60282-561-1)

Sex and Skateboards
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Wings: Subversive Gay Angel Erotica
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Speaking Out: LGBTQ Youth Stand Up
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Forbidden Passions
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nightrise
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