The Park Avenue Hovel, page five

    "I seem to recall asking you a question, earlier." Head at the foot of the bed, Gwen wiggled her toes in the pillows and propped herself up on one elbow, casting her eye up toward Adrienne, whose hair was silk against her feet.
    "Well, yes, but then you distracted me and I forgot my answer. And the question."
    "Oh." Gwen walked her fingers up the instep and calf stretched out beside her, "Well, let me remind you. I asked what your plans for today were."
    "Oh, is that what it was? Let me think." She swung her legs away, tucking them safely under the sheets. "There's a community arts meeting tonight I wanted to go to, planning for the next theatre action. We're going to be discussing which issues to address and how. There's a couple people who want to start getting onto national topics, but I'm pretty much with Jerry about keeping it focused on local stuff. There's a feeling that we'd get more recognition if we dealt with broader themes, but since part of what we're trying to do is raise awareness, I don't think ignoring local causes because no one knows about them makes just tons of sense." Adrienne sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "Hey, do you want to come?"
    Gwen grinned wickedly in reply, then matched her lover's earnest look with equal sincerity. "I'll think about it. You're always so energized after your meetings, maybe I should see what they're all about." Her reluctance a physical thing, Gwen pulled herself out of the bed and began moving around the room. "What about until then?"
    "Not much. Got some reading to do. Why?" She climbed out of the bed and began searching for last night's underwear, "You trying to get rid of me?" Her tone was light, teasing, but Gwen heard the uncertainty beneath it and backed out of her closet, smiling.
    "Not at all, dove. I just thought you might have something better to do than rattle around this box of a house with me." She did up the buttons of her striped shirt with fast, agile fingers that Adrienne watched distractedly.
    "Aren't you doing anything today? I thought you wanted to go see that new exhibit at the art museum."
    "Not today. I do have an appointment this afternoon, though. I trust you'll be able to occupy yourself for an hour or two?"
    "I'm sure I'll think of something." She pulled a long sleeved shirt down over her head, belatedly realizing that it was wrong way around; struggling to correct, her voice came muffled through the knit. "It won't be the same without you, but I think I'll cope."
    "Good, that's settled. Breakfast?"
    "Lunch."

Posted at Sunday, November 22, 2009 10:24 AM
In Short Fiction Category | Permalink