It didn’t matter that Rosemary thought she was a bird.Or, alternatively: that Rosemarywas in fact a bird.Or that she lived in a magical cottage no one else could see.It wouldn’t be the first time a woman had an unconventional identity or living situation.Those who truly cared would understand—and those who did not, were not owed an explanation.
Corinthia sat a little taller and looked around the venue.
A handful of couples were using the top level of the amphitheater as an impromptu dance floor.They were joined by an assortment of small children, who had less polished moves but exuberance to spare.
Corinthia found herself smiling at the sight.The Refuge, the amphitheater, the music and dancing—all of it seemed so right that it was as if a flower of rightness was blooming right there in her chest, next to her heart, its petals fluttering with every beat.
Rosemary patted her hand.
Corinthia looked at her, questioningly.
Rosemary took her hand and slipped into the aisle staircase, tugging Corinthia after her.
With a surprised backwards glance at Stevie, who shooed her off encouragingly, Corinthia went up the steps behind Rosemary.
They reached the top level and faced each other, in their own little space.Corinthia would have loved to impress by leading the dance, but improvisation was not—to say the least—her strong point.
Rosemary’s gaze went to a nearby couple whose salsa moves were smooth but simple.She watched, nodded to herself, then held out her hands to Corinthia.
Corinthia fixed her fedora firmly and took Rosemary’s hands.
They began to move, hesitantly at first, but gaining in sureness with each step, back and forth, back and forth, until confidence strengthened Corinthia’s daring and she let go with one hand, spinning Rosemary away decisively with the other.
Rosemary spun, throwing her head back and laughing as she did so.
When they joined both hands again, something light and quicksilver flashed through Corinthia.Where there was music, there was also birdsong; the trees waved their arms in the air; in the sky, distant stars strobed.
Something was happening.Something was changing.She felt it everywhere, but especially where her fingers touched Rosemary’s.
Corinthia had an idea.“Come back with me after the show,” she said.
“Back where?”
“To my cottage!”
Rosemary smiled her assent.
When the song ended, everyone applauded the musicians.Rosemary curtsied extravagantly to Corinthia, and Corinthia swept off her hat and bowed.
The night was not yet over.
21
Aftertheconcertended,and Stevie and Drew had wandered off to discover whatever might still be open in Shadow Ridge, Corinthia accompanied Rosemary out of the amphitheater and down to the sidewalk on the edge of the parking lot.
Rosemary had wanted to practice leaving the Refuge.
“I would love to travel,” she said, gazing out at the parking lot as if it were the first step on a long journey.
“How far have you gone before?”
“In this direction?Only to this sidewalk.”
There were cars pulling out and driving away into the night.Their headlights swept across the bordering trees like spotlights.“Whenever you’re ready,” Corinthia said.
“I’m ready,” Rosemary said.She hesitated.“Could I ask you to hold my hand?”
“You don’t even need to ask.”Corinthia’s hand enveloped Rosemary’s, which was warm and soft.
