“Keep going! She’s back there, somewhere.”
Aya turned to Genevieve, who now stood with the most precious single in her hand. The one that takes me back to those natsukashii days. A feeling she now strongly experienced looking into Aya’s mischievous eyes.
“I can’t get over it. I both don’t know who you are, and feel like I’ve known you half my life.”
Genevieve lost grip on the record once again. “I think that’s a compliment.”
“It’s absolutely a compliment.” Aya chuckled. “Here. You’re about to break that.” She gingerly took the record out of Genevieve’s hands and slid it back into its cupboard. “I didn’t mean to snoop if it bothers you. I was just curious about your music tastes.”
Genevieve could barely contain the excitement of her next question. “If you could see anyone in concert, who would it be? Like, if you could drive down to the local stadium or livehouse, who would you see?”
Aya slammed her hands on her hips. “I don’t know. Who would you see?”
“I don’t know either.”
Such an impasse was not immediately overcome. Not until Aya started laughing first.
“What a riveting conversation,” she said in a shaking voice.
Genevieve closed up her cabinet. “I think I’m tired. How about we go to bed? There’s this cute brunch spot I’d love to take you to, but if we don’t have a reservation, we want to be there by 10:30 to secure a seat.”
Aya didn’t follow Genevieve toward the bedroom. “Sure. I’ll be right there. I’m going to get a glass of water.”
“All right.” Genevieve went on ahead, leaving the bedroom door open. While the kitchen sink turned on and off, she pulled back the covers on her bed, claiming the same spot she always slept on. I’ve never asked Aya what side she prefers. After the first few encounters, in which they fell asleep on whatever side of the bed they happened to end up on, they had fallen into a natural rhythm of Genevieve on the right and Aya on the left – no matter what city they were in.
Had it been natural, though? Or had Aya passively made it so?
“Genny.”
She whipped around, Aya’s soft voice scratching her back like they were in Paradise once again. Lights low, passion high. Yet that wasn’t a sharply dressed woman looking at her from the bedroom doorway. That was an everyday woman presenting herself “as is.”
And she was still breathtaking. The exact kind of familiar aura Genevieve had been searching for half her life.
“Yes?” she squeaked.
Aya approached. Although she and Genevieve were similar in height, it was difficult to not look up into her face. “I wanted to talk about earlier. I guess… I wanted to apologize, in case the time we had wasn’t what you had in mind.”
“O… oh.” Genevieve’s stutter was only a small part relief. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I had a great time with you.”
“It’s, you know, I’m still new to some of this. A part of me is worried I won’t give you what you want. Or what you need, for that matter.”
“There’s no need to worry about those things. Especially right now, when we’re still getting to know each other.”
“That may be so…” Aya’s voice trailed off, but Genevieve sensed her desire to speak, and quickly. “Suppose we are still in the phase of getting to know one another better. I know it’s only been a couple of months, but the feelings have happened fast.” Aya sighed. “I mean, quickly. They’ve happened quickly.”
The fact she corrected her English grammar like that only endeared Genevieve to her more. Or that may be the fluttering in my heart. Aya had mentioned feelings. The only thing Genevieve loved more than traveling and talking to people. Feelings. Those sensations had been dormant in her strict and emotionally unavailable childhood. The very thing she had chased for most of her adult life.
It’s not about validation, is it?
“I know what you mean,” Genevieve said. “I have a habit of diving into relationships too strongly. I’m trying to do this one right.” She smiled. “I mean, correctly.”
“Neither one of us wants to botch this, huh?”
Genevieve pulled her hands away from each other. They had been spending most of the conversation rubbing together. “I’ve never wanted to foul up any of my relationships. I take them seriously. Maybe it won’t be forever, but I want it to last long enough to get something good out of it. For both of us.” She didn’t mention that such thoughts only became stronger as she got older. Facing her own mortality after her parents’ deaths had done that to her. I’ll very soon be the age they were when they perished. Only a few more years. She didn’t feel as old as her parents had seemed back then.
“I want to be the lover you’re searching for,” Aya said. “Because you are already the one of my dreams.”
Genevieve’s hands covered her mouth. Yet before she could express her youthful response to that confession, Aya looked away. “I’m not doing this well at all,” she said.