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“Yes, because it’s healthy to not want to talk about things.”
“Nobody ever accused me of having those kinds of aspirations.Healthyis not my thing, Vi. But I also know that, if you’d been here, you would have caught me in a very bad mood. Why would you wish for that?”
A heavy sigh on the other end of the line was initially her only answer before she heard the honking of cars on Vi’s end and understood that her lover was hailing a cab.
“Because I wish everything with you, you exasperating woman.” Vi’s voice, muffled as it was, sent warmth spreading through Chiara’s chest.
There were more words in the background, away from the phone, and then Vi was back. “Mitch here figures I should just move in, since I’m foolish enough to hail a cab during rush hour, in the rain, by jumping in front of it.” There was laughter and another exchange between Vi and the driver. Chiara felt that warmth expand and push out the dregs of the anxiety and aggravation of her day.
“He is right, you know. I mean, a man named Mitch who picks up a person who bodily stops his cab like that cannot be wrong. Tell him I appreciate his input, and that he has helped two useless lesbians U-Haul.”
Vi was silent for the longest time before Chiara finally heard a loud, relieved exhalation.
“I will leave a very large tip. I’ll see you at home.”
* * *
A weekafter that phone call, a U-Haul was parked in front of Mercer Street, delivering Vi’s plants and other possessions.
The plants, in fact, were what actually impressed the foolishness of their speedy move upon them. In Chiara’s tiny attic, there was no space for anything.
Hence, the current chaos of construction.
Chiara touched the plastic spread over the new balustrade and strolled down the equally new stairs towards her recently completed spacious kitchen. The design plans Vi and she had poured over, included a terraced roof that ensured Chiara’s workshop one floor below still allowed her access so she could continue to meander and sneak rooftop cigarettes.
And the apartment gained a level, making it spacious enough for all the potted greenery. Vi as a plant mom would never not be endearing to Chiara.
Binoche, after initially pretending to completely ignore the newly acquired forest—which Vi had taken painstaking care to make sure was completely safe for her—now refused to leave the green space, lounging on the windowsill either in their bedroom or the kitchen. She lifted her head as Chiara walked in and emitted a prissy meow. Her food bowl was almost full.
Chiara topped it up. Exactly four more pieces of kibble fit in it, but Binoche pounced as if she’d been starving for days. A haughty look in Chiara’s direction told her as much.
She wandered around the kitchen, trying to resurrect the last thought she’d had before leaving the bedroom. A bright pink post-it on her state-of-the-art coffee machine seemed to wink at her. Yes, she’d come here to make coffee. Or at least to use the brew as a pretense for not talking to Vi about why she was as tense as she was.
A few presses of a button later, and she stood in the silence of the kitchen, illuminated by the light of the dawn.
When hands gently touched her shoulders, she jumped nearly a foot in the air.
“If you deserting the bed at 5 a.m. wasn’t a clear indication already, this climbing out of your skin is a dead giveaway, Chiara.”
Vi turned her around and, when Chiara refused to look at her, lifted her chin with a tender finger, ash meeting amber.
“Hey.”
Oh god, her knees went weak. The tenderness, the love, the outpouring of support. They’d been together for a year now. When would Chiara allow herself to simply get used to this? To this love? To this woman?
Never, she thought as she wrapped her arms around the lanky torso, burrowing her nose into the silky auburn hair.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous prior to New York Fashion Week.”
Vi ran her hands up and down Chiara’s arms, making her shiver.
“Understandable. The collections were never fully yours before. And this one is. All yours. Only yours. And it is absolutely astoundingly unbelievable in how utterly gorgeous it is.”
“Oh no, it’s the gigantic Thesaurus Rex!” Chiara bit Vi’s earlobe and made them both giggle just before she grabbed the angular face with both hands, holding Vi still. “I love you, you nerd. So much. I don’t believe I tell you enough. For your adorable geekiness, for the support you give me when I act the fool, for the steady presence when I need a foundation. For being you. For being with me.”
Vi smiled at her and freed herself from Chiara’s hands before turning her around again, and now they stood front to back, slotted together like puzzle pieces in front of the floor to ceiling windows with Manhattan at their feet. Vi slowly rocked them back and forth and quietly hummed a song that eluded Chiara at the moment. Yet she felt like she knew it, the rhythm of their movement soothing in its familiarity.
“Slow dancing in the kitchen. And we have checked all the wishes off my list.” Chiara turned her face to the side until she could see Vi’s eyes that were surprisingly wet. “I never wanted to complete the list with anyone but you, Chiara.”
