Solace & Rosanna Ch. 14

2003: Solace let the phone ring at least four times before she answered it. For two weeks she had picked up the offending instrument on the first ring had been crestfallen each time. It was not that she didn't have the desire to hear from her family and friends, she simply desperately longed to hear Rosanna's low, smooth tones. She attributed her physical symptoms of lethargy, insomnia, and lack of appetite to the breakup. She cried more tears than she thought humanly possible, Bizarrey the Cat being an unwilling recipient, jumping off her lap when she thought she was in danger of drowning.

Jessie and Mira had proven to be her saviors. They had called on a regular basis and had come over to cook for her, which was amazing, as Solace had been the designated chef for several years. Solace smiled when she thought about Mira's tuna noodle casserole. Her sister had over-salted the dish and they had spent the rest of the evening drinking glass after glass of water. Still, Solace appreciated the gesture, but she pitied Mira's fiancé. Unfortunately, the salty casserole had reminded Solace of the many tears she had shed, a lump forming in her throat. Mira did her best to comfort her sister. Finally, Solace had decided that it was Rosanna's loss and her torpor turned to almost rabid determination to move on. She would not pine for someone who had dumped her before investigating all the options, no matter how much she loved and missed her. I am not inferior and I am no damned doormat became her mantra.

"Solace?" came the familiar voice over the line. It was Carla. Immediately, Solace became alarmed and her stomach clenched.

"Carla?" Solace asked shakily.

"Rosanna's been hurt," came Carla's subdued tone.

"Has she been in an accident? Is she in the hospital? Where is she? Oh God! Is she all right?" Solace's voice rose with each question despite her new-found anger, which had replaced the shock, dismay and inertia produced by Rosanna's abrupt exit from her life.

"Hold on, Sol." Carla interrupted. "Rosita's just a little bruised. And, no, she was not in a car accident or anything like that. Some hood tried to steal her bike—a woman no less. Can you believe that? Rosita only sustained a split lip and bloody nose. Thank God. I told her to see a specialist to make sure there was no permanent damage to her beautiful nose. Oh, Solace!" Carla finished with a sigh.

Solace breathed her own deep sigh of relief and slumped into her cushion. She let out a breath that she was unaware she had been holding. It had only been two short weeks. She had loved Rosanna for five years. She could not get over her in such a short time.

"Solace?" Carla called her, bringing Solace back to the moment.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, Carla. Were you saying something?" Solace could feel the tears she had tried to hold back begin to slide down her cheeks.

"I was just saying that you should come over. I know that would help speed her recovery." Carla said with a smile in her voice.

Solace felt herself begin to tremble. How would she respond to Carla's innocent statement?

"I…I…can't." Solace finally said simply.

"Oh, are you going out? I'm sorry. Maybe you can come over tomorrow?" Carla asked hopefully.

"I can't come over at all, Carla. Ro…Rosanna and I aren't speaking with each other. We aren't seeing each other anymore " Solace said softly, barely able to vocalize the words.

"What? Why?" Carla gasped. "No. That's between you and Rosita, but—" she sat heavily on her couch. Rosanna had awakened, showered and gone to bed in her old room. How could this be? Rosita loves Solace. How could they break up, after what, five years? Carla had been certain that they were going to make her, Isolinda and Ace grandparents. Her motherly nosiness was coming to the fore and she knew she would have to ask Rosita. She did not know if she would have any success in this department as Rosita hadn't even told her about the breakup. And Solace was clearly not taking this well at all.

"How are you, Solace?" Carla asked, concern evident in her voice.

"I'm surviving, Carla," came Solace's somber reply. She would not incriminate Rosanna. If Carla were to hear the truth, it would have to come from her daughter. "Please tell Rosanna that I hope she feels better soon. Thanks for calling me," Solace put down the phone before she heard Carla's goodbye. She could not trust herself not to break down and ask to speak with Rosanna. She would not risk the rejection. Her mantra rang in her head like a church bell, but the one person she had held sacred had betrayed her.

In doing her laundry, Solace came across her dance outfit. She held it up to her lovingly. The black tights and leotard fit her as if she'd been born in them and she felt completely unencumbered while wearing them. In the past five years she had been involved with Rosanna to the extent that she had neglected her beloved activity. Solace recalled the sense of absolute abandon she felt as the rhythm pumped and her body swayed, dipped and turned, almost of its own volition. She inevitably ended the session covered in perspiration or "the glow" as her instructor, Ardena, called it. Rosanna had entered her life and dance had not seemed as important as being with her. Why she had not told Rosanna of this passion she could not say then, but she understood now that she had been embarrassed and then it had not seemed to matter. Solace had also realized that dance could be highly erotic and Rosanna certainly did not need further assistance in that area. Once Solace finally succumbed to the demands of her body and Rosanna's, she practically had to beat Rosanna over the head with her cane to stop. Solace had simply uttered four words: "I want you, Sanna". Their lovemaking had taken Solace to unbelievable heights of pleasure and Rosanna's passions seemed almost inexhaustible. Solace's dance class had been on Saturday mornings, but ultimately she found herself in such a languor that she did not possess the energy to twirl around the hardwood dance floor.

It was three months since she had seen or spoken to Rosanna and seeing her dance gear made her realize that she needed to get back to doing something which she loved which did not involve Rosanna. With nervous fingers, she dialed the number of the studio, asking for Ardena Miles. When her instructor picked up the phone, Solace felt as though her heart would burst from happiness because the notion that Ardena had either left the studio or been let go had crossed her mind.

"Girl, where have you been?" came Ardena's exuberant voice as she wiped her face with a towel.

"Gone too long," came Solace's bright reply.

"Are you calling me for a date or is this business?" Ardena asked, laughter evident in her tones.

"Ardena, please! You know Mathew would have my head." Solace said with mock seriousness.

"He doesn't have to know." Ardena said.

This was a running joke they shared with glee. Ardena believing that she was loved, worshipped and lusted after by both genders as she had an enviable figure that frequently garnered tongues to unashamedly droop and temperatures to rise.

Solace found Ardena to be the rare sighted person indeed because she treated her just as any other dancer. Even though Solace felt perfectly comfortable in her skin and being, she often felt people's eyes upon her as she went about her daily, mundane tasks. It could be quite unnerving and she had to steal herself not to blurt out a hasty retort. She did not believe this to be paranoia on her part, but curiosity and rudeness on theirs. Early in their relationship, she had felt it with Rosanna, but Solace had trained that out of her in their first year together. She thought she might have achieved a modicum of success.

"I want to come back to the studio. Is there an opening at all?" Solace asked hopefully.

"Hmmm. I think I might be able to squeeze you in. What kind of shape are we talking here Solace—Freda Flab or Bertha Buns of Steal? Ardena laughed at her own joke.

"Well, I might not be Bertha B., but I haven't had to sign up for Weight Watchers yet either," Solace said, proud that she had at least danced around her living room and kept up her walking routine to keep down the pounds.

"When do you want to start?" Ardena asked, checking her watch as she had a class in a few minutes.

"Well, can I come by on Saturday?" Solace asked.

"Sure. But come early, okay? I'll be here by ten o'clock so we can go over the routine. Gotta go, Babe!" She blew Solace a kiss and hung up the phone before she could protest.

Solace put down her phone and smiled. Ardena hadn't changed. She had always worked with Solace early so that she could keep up with the other dancers. They had been working together for years and Solace knew many of the moves, but she thought she might learn some new steps, and she was glad Ardena could see her before the other dancers arrived.

Saturday dawned bright and warma perfect summer morning. Solace awakened with a sense of anticipation she had not felt in years. She showered, dressed and breakfasted, and flung her dance gear in a bright blue duffle bag with a rainbow stripe. She grabbed her cane and flew out the door, hair flying in all directions, practically obscuring what vision she had.

Solace arrived at the Make Your Moves Dance Studio at nine thirty. She got a key for a locker from Franz. He gave her a huge welcoming hug and spun her in the direction of the lockers down the hall.

"Who was that?" came a woman's low, husky voice. She had been standing behind Solace throughout a portion of the exuberant exchange. She stared after her.

"Oh, that is our returning, prodigal daughter. Seems she will be gracing us with her presence once again," came Franz's airy reply, his eyes twinkling.

"Does she have a name, Franz?" inquired the woman impatiently, her short dark mane shining under the lights, her face a study in determination.

"Well, now that's for you to find out, isn't it?" Franz smirked and turned to hand another patron a locker key. L. D. gave him an uncomfortable feeling and he tried to have as little conversation with her as possible. He did not see her answering glare.

L. D. Jansen stood five feet seven inches tall with a slim, athletic build. She had jet-black hair, which she brushed away from her pale face. This gave her features a sharp edge. When she chose to wear makeup, she looked quite dramatic. She could also look quite menacing as she favored black clothing as well. Today she wore her signature color topped off with a black jacket of soft leather.

L. D. had been coming to the studio for nine months. She found learning the new steps and dancing with the other women to be exhilarating, and she thrilled (as did many of her partners) to her strong leads and to her confident lifting of their supple bodies, twirling them with ease.

As she entered the locker room, she did not see the petite, auburn haired dynamo. She changed quickly into her soft black pants and black tank top. She donned a pair of leather dance shoes, locked up her belongings and went to the dance studio. She stopped in the door, her breath caught in her throat, as she spotted Solace working out with Ardena. Solace was graceful and powerful and L. D. was mesmerized. She thought back on the white cane she had seen and marveled at Solace's seemingly effortless movements around the dance floor. L. D.'s mouth watered and her heart-rate sped up. She would have to calm down or she would be worn out before class started. She wanted this one and she wanted her bad! And she would have her--eventually. She entered the room and sat watching.

"Hi L. D.," called Ardena.

"Hi Dena."

Other dancers came in and warmed up at the dance bar or around the corners of the large room. They were a motley crew of women in all shapes and colors. Ardena called them together for a group stretch. Cracking bones and groans could be heard throughout the room. L. D. stood in the back row where she could watch Solace as she stretched and readied her body for Ardena's rigorous workout.

Casey came flying into the dance room and collided with L. D. who turned to see who had broken her concentration.

"I'm sorry, L. D." Casey said breathlessly as she took a place next to her. "Traffic was shitty and I took a cab to get here on time and I'm still late." Casey whispered as she huffed through her quick warm up.

"Good morning, Casey," Ardena said with a nod. "Nice to see you. May we start now?" Ardena was a stickler about punctuality and she would soon lock the door on late-comers who dared show up during the instructional period. She saw no point in a person dancing when they had not properly warmed up. Most adhered to this rule and those who could not found instructors who were more lenient.

"Sorry, Ardena," Casey said, her face reddening.

Once the warm-up was complete, Ardena had the women break into pairs. Casey turned towards L. D. expectantly, who tried to hide her disappointment at not being paired with the new woman. There was no doubt that Casey was a beautiful woman and she was aware that Casey was attracted to her, but L. D. was the hunter, not the hunted. In spite of this minor annoyance, L. D. performed the new dance moves with Casey with style, grace and admirable technique until L. D. glanced in Solace's direction, missed a move and stepped on Casey's foot.

"Ouch!" yelped Casey, even though L. D's. soft shoes had precluded any real damage to her toes. "Guess that's for bumping into you, eh?" L. D. smiled and led Casey to a corner.

"I'm sorry, Casey," she said quietly, seething inwardly at the laughter and her lack of attention to what she thought of as her craft. She might have to teach Casey a lesson.

All of the visuals were lost on Solace as she could not see from her perch on a stool across the room, but she heard everything and only smiled briefly. She was concentrating on her own performance.

"Solace, are you ready?" Ardena called to her. Solace snapped to attention, jumped off the stool and strode to the middle of the floor.

"L. D.? I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself with Solace," Ardena said, tapping her dance stick sharply. "Solace, this is L. D., L. D., this is Solace. Let's see how this goes." L. D. stood in front of Solace, her heart beating wildly. She took Solace's hand and they began. When they finished, spontaneous applause erupted from the other dancers. Solace and L. D. had glided together in synchronous harmony as if they had been made for the dance. When they finished, L. D. made a courtly bow before Solace and she in turn executed her maidenly curtsy.

"You dance beautifully." L. D. breathed, genuinely impressed with Solace's ability.

"Thank you. L. D.? Solace looked up and smiled at the taller woman. She hoped she would have the opportunity to dance with her again as she had very few partners who had made it so easy for her to follow their lead.

"Solace is a unique name," L. D. said as she escorted Solace back to her seat on the stool.

"It's a combination of my parents' names. They certainly think it's great. I sometimes wonder." Solace replied.

When the class ended, Solace dashed out of the room and into the locker room. There she showered quickly, put on her street clothes and raced out of the studio, waving a quick goodbye to Franz. It had been an excellent morning and she was due to meet with Jessie for a late lunch. Solace had no idea that she had been in the room with Rosanna's would-be lover and someone who was extremely upset that she had missed her. L. D. had been detained by several women who desired her attention. Ever the charmer, she had tried as diplomatically as she could to fend off their overt advances. As she entered the locker room, she caught a glimpse of auburn hair as Solace left the room. Fists clenched, L. D. showered, changed and left the studio as fast as she could. Out on the street, she looked up and down, but saw no sign of Solace. She would make a more concerted effort next week. Solace would not get away so easily.

Casey had watched L. D. and Solace dance with slight envy. She had also been standing in the doorway as L. D. searched for Solace. She had been salivating over L. D. for months, but the woman had not shown much interest aside from being an attentive dance partner. Casey also thought about this new Solace. She was indeed a live-wire and she wouldn't mind taking a tumble with her as well. At the moment, neither prospect seemed promising, but she would wait until a suitable opening. She licked her lips in anticipation. It did not hit her until she got home why the name Solace had sounded so familiar to her. Where had she heard that name before? She would call Leander; maybe he would jog her memory. That was it! He had mentioned the name Solace in connection with—Rosanna. Life was indeed full of coincidences.