Brighton laughed and tossed her head back, exposing her lovely neck before looking at Charlotte again. “It’s my song.”
“It is.” Charlotte smiled. This classic Christmas song had always been Brighton’s favorite for those lines alone.
Brighton wrapped her arms tighter around Charlotte’s neck. “So.”
“So.”
“I have a fundamentalist Christian roommate named Leah.”
Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Do you now?”
“She sets me up with guys who wear boat shoes and tells me Jesus loves me even though I’m bi.”
“Wow, how loving.”
Brighton laughed. “Let’s see…I want a cat, but Leah’s allergic. I still have Carla.”
“What?” Charlotte couldn’t believe it. “You still have that old Corolla that Bonnie and Hank got you at sixteen?”
“Corollas last forever.”
“They don’t even sell them anymore.”
“All the more reason to preserve Carla’s vintage status.”
Charlotte laughed and spun Brighton around in a circle once before slowing down again.
“What about you?” Brighton asked. “Tell me something.”
Charlotte tilted her head, feeling like there was so much to catch Brighton up on and, at the same time, nothing at all.
And somehow she didn’t want to say the wordsNew York.
“I play violin” is what she settled on.
Brighton laughed. “I had no idea.”
“And I…”
Her throat went a little thick. She played violin. She led the Rosalind Quartet. She taught at the Manhattan School of Music. She…
Charlotte looked down, took some surreptitious deep breaths. It wasn’t like she was ashamed or that what she’d accomplished musically wasn’t important. It was. She was impressive, and she knew it. She was proud of what she’d done, and in most ways, she wouldn’t change any of it.
She loved her life.
She just…
Maybe…
Maybe there was more to life than just music. More than just work and practice and arranging and more practice. There was a time when she knew that. She’d forgotten, somehow, even when Brighton had been in her bed in their Manhattan apartment. Somewhere along the line, she’d forgotten…
“I missed you,” she said. The words just slipped out. True and real and scary and right.
Brighton’s smile dimmed, but her eyes went soft. Her chest swelled against Charlotte’s, and she pulled them even closer together. “I missed you too.”
Then they simply danced, turning in slow circles under the lights, the dreamy music shifting from Nat singing about chestnuts to Judy making promises about next year’s troubles.
“Lola?” Brighton said after a while, lifting her chin fromCharlotte’s shoulder to look at her, eyes searching Charlotte’s. “I…I need to know something.”
