Perfection Remembered

It was the lilting softness in the voice which caught at her its resonant, sensuous tone floated down through the trees and into her head like the fading echo of a wave from the other side of the dunes or the passing whisper of a half-hearted gust of wind through autumn leaves.

Annie was sitting on a bench in Bowling Green with one leg comfortably crossed over the other and the Village Voice draped like a lazy cat across her knee. She had been carefully eating an apple, enjoying the steady splashing of the water in the fountain and the low, constant hum of city traffic. The sound of that voice stirred in Annie a memory of herself crouched at the top of the stairs small and quiet listening to the mysterious, exotic voices that filtered up from the living room where her mother’s friends had gathered. It was a memory so long forgotten that Annie was stunned and mesmerized by its pull. The voice that reached out to her now was the voice of the woman who had come up the stairs to talk to her, tease her and shoo her off to bed. And then the woman had stayed and read until Annie fell asleep to the sound of her voice, the closest thing to a lullaby she ever remembered hearing. Annie struggled with the memory and grabbed it with her mind. She knew her mother had loved that woman, she knew they talked for hours and went away on long weekends sending Annie to stay with her grandmother, that much Annie did remember. She looked up and tilted her head towards the sound of a voice she knew but could not name it's place in her memory a vague understanding of something unnamed.

The day was warm for November and Bowling Green and Battery Park were flooded with the lunch-time crowd. The woman Annie looked up to see was tall and very fair, she wore a dark, tailored suit and a briefcase stood at attention near her feet. The woman's wavy, auburn hair danced in the breeze its highlights lit by the sun, she was smiling with her arms folded across her chest, looking away from the man she was talking to and towards the park where Annie sat. Annie could have sworn she was looking at her. Annie considered her and the image that moved through her mind was of a determined Vita Sackville-West, striding through town on strong, long legs. Vita with fire in her eyes, going to buy seeds to send to Virginia. Vita wanting her seeds in Virginia’s garden. Annie sighed, finished her apple, tucked her newspaper under her arm and stood up, she looked north and saw the valley of Manhattan guarded by the sentinel Empire State Building and then turned to see the harbor and the fluttering of sun on the water. Annie turned back to where the voice had lived but the space was empty except for the pigeons who pecked and fluttered on the ground. Disappointed, Annie shrugged, crossed the street and went into her building. The lobby of 25 Broadway was alive with the hollow, clipped sounds of heels and footfalls, hushed voices melded into the dragging swirl of the revolving doors. Annie nodded to the guard as she stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the 12th floor automatically turning her head up to watch the huge dial swing around until it stopped at 12. She stepped out and walked down the corridor to the library and through the large room to her cubicle. She dropped the newspaper on her desk and turned to sit at her terminal, checked her e-mail and began to shift through the pile of queries stacked neatly in her in-box. By 5:30 the in-box was empty and Annie leaned back in her chair and stretched, letting the bones in her back crinkle as she let her head hang back as far as she could, arms dangling at her side, eyes closed. Then she heard that voice and opening her eyes turned slowly to find it.

"Is it too late to have you search for something?"

The tall, fair woman in the dark suit was standing in the entrance of her cubicle a sheet of paper in her hand and a teasing, questioning smile in her eyes. Annie almost said yes, just to see if the smile would disappear or if the eyes would darken but instead she took the paper, felt her nerves widen into feeling, an erotic charge flowing through the air and pulling her deftly in its wake.

"Give me a few minutes," she said and logged back on. "Where shall I send the material?"

"I’ll wait for it," the woman said.

Annie studied the listings that came up on the screen.

"There are over 50 references for this," she said, trying not to sound annoyed. "I’ll have the material pulled first thing in the morning."

"I need them now," the woman said matter-of-factly.

Annie said nothing but stared at the screen.

The woman laughed. "You’re going to miss your date?" she asked.

"No," Annie said.

"No?"

"No."

The woman crossed her arms. "Thank you," she said.

Annie shrugged. "You’re welcome."

The woman gestured with her head towards one of the long work tables. "I’ll be over there," she said.

The printer began to whirl softly.

"Are you new here?" Annie asked.

"No," the woman said as she took the sheet Annie held out to her. "I don’t work here at all."

"You don’t work here," Annie said in a lame and flat voice.

"No."

"You don’t work here but I should do this."

"Yes."

Annie shook her head, "Well," she said too loud, "you’re charming and controlling."

"No," the woman answered and laughed, "just demanding."

Annie felt the lingering charged energy again as the woman stepped into her cubicle and leaned, half sitting against her desk. She was close enough for Annie to catch the scent of her perfume and the persistent, palpable energy that continued to pull at her. Annie stood up to face the woman in the dark suit and for a split second, the longest moment she could ever remember, thought the woman was going to say something intriguing or provocative, or worse yet, just lean in and kiss her right there in her cubicle on the 12th floor of 25 Broadway. She closed her eyes and waited, held her breath, listened the sound, for a rustle of fabric, a slight movement of air but nothing happened and when Annie opened her eyes the woman was gone. With an audible sigh of relief she exhaled and walked slowly, as calmly as she could, out of the cubicle and down the hall to the ladies room.

When Annie got home there were three messages on her answering machine, one from the superintendent of her building and two from Lillian. The first reminded Annie that they had plans that evening. The second message informed Annie that Lillian would be over at eight-thirty, to remember they were supposed to have dinner and then meet Carrie at the Cubby Hole. Annie checked her watch, it was five-past six which gave her time for a nap. She kicked of her shoes, pulled off her clothes and then slept until the doorbell drilled into her.

"I was starving," Lillian said as Annie opened the door and turned to the kitchen to make coffee. "So I ate." She eyes Annie. "And a good thing too," she said. "Here I find you half naked and barely awake."

"Blame it on my sense of duty," Annie said between yawning and stretching, "I wanted to be awake for dinner."

She turned on the kettle and filled a paper cone with coffee.

"I’m honored," Lillian said solemnly.

Annie nodded as she poured the boiling water methodically onto the grinds.

"Help yourself," she said and took her cup back with her to the bedroom.

Ten minutes later she emerged dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. She took her leather jacket out of the closet.

Lillian’s eyebrows arched dramatically. "Are you expecting to meet someone tonight hon?" she asked.

"Maybe," Annie replied. The image of Vita came back to her vivid and erotically colored. "Let’s go," she said.

They walked down 5th Avenue stopped to buy cigarettes and chewable vitamin C and then caught a cab down to the Village. At eleven-thirty, Annie was leaning against the side rail inside the bar watching Lillian romance Carrie. Annie smiled and decided that Lillian both a complete romantic fool and politically incorrect, Carrie she decided, was simply boring. She sighed and held her glass up staring at it in a mindless sort of way, tipping it so the liquid caught the weird, dark light of the room.

"Well, hello!"

Annie jumped. "Jesus!" she moaned.

"Are you always this jumpy?" the woman asked.

Annie knew her mouth was open but could not hear herself say anything.

"Does this mean you’re surprised?" the woman asked. "Maybe you’re as surprised as I was when you walked in."

Annie felt heat run into her cheeks. "How long have you been here?"

"About an hour," the woman said. "I kept trying to catch your eye but it was hopeless. May I buy you a drink?"

"I have one," Annie said.

"Well then," the woman answered, "come finish it with me." They walked to one of the side tables and sat down. The woman smiled. "Are you really this shy," she asked. "Or am I just incredibly bold?"

"Yes," Annie said.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I’m shy. Yes, you’re bold." She extended her hand. "My name is Annie."

The woman clasped it. "I’m Julia."

Annie smiled weakly, glanced down into the depth of her glass and then looked up at the face across from her.

She laughed nervously. "I still can’t believe you did that," she said.

"What? Have you help me?"

"I thought you were one of the analysts."

"Not me," Julia said, "I am a lowly lawyer." She sipped her drink "But actually you helped me more than you know. And if you’re uptight about me using the services, blame it on my brother. It was his idea."

"Who’s your brother?"

"Barry Levin."

"Jesus, he’s your brother?"

"Last I heard," Julia said.

Annie shook her head. "Then it is a good thing I didn’t tell you to go to hell, Huh?"

"Good thing," Julia agreed.

Annie watched Julia’s eyes move from her face to her neck, from her neck to her shoulders. "Have you eaten?" she asked her and blushed deep and hot. They both laughed.

"No, " Julia said. "And I’m hungry. How about you?"

"I could eat," Annie said.

"Well then," the woman said, "take me to your favorite place."

"I don’t know if I’m that hungry," Annie said.

The woman reached over and gently brushed the hair from Annie’s ear. "I can’t believe you’re not hungry," she said.

I can’t believe this is happening, Annie thought. "Well then, she said, "let’s go get something to eat."

Julia waited as Annie went over to Lillian and Carrie.

"Lillian," Annie said, "I’ll talk to you tomorrow."

If Lillian was even mildly surprised she didn’t show it.

The two women left and walked down Morton Street to Sixth Avenue.

"So. How old are you,? Julia asked her.

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty-five."

"You know, I saw you this afternoon." Annie said.

"Yes. You were sitting in the park and eating an apple."

"I was reading."

"I wanted to just come over and say hello to you."

"But you didn’t."

"No," Julia said. "You looked too young for me."

"Twenty-five isn’t all that young," Annie said.

"It is when one is thirty-six."

"Really?" Annie stopped to look at her. "You don’t look that old."

"Right," Julia said.

"You don’t and I know this might sound weird, but I heard your voice and it was... oh, is this all right?"

"Sure."

They went in and sat at small table near the window.

"So," the woman said, "so you heard my voice."

Annie looked out at the street and again remembered her image of Vita. "Yes," she said. She turned back and looked squarely at Julia.

"I heard your voice, and it well, sort of took me away somewhere… and I imagined…" She paused and took a deep breath. "Don’t laugh."

Julia raised her hands in mock defense.

"I imagined you were Vita Sackville-West," Annie said.

Julia laughed.

"I did," Annie said against the heat she felt in her face. "I imagined you were going to buy seeds for Virginia Woolf’s garden."

Julia was quiet. The smile Annie saw was open and amused but she looked down and then out again at the street.

"Hey now, don’t do that," Julia said. "I’m really not making fun of you."

"I don’t know anything about you." Annie said sadly. "So why bother to tell you such a stupid thing as that?"

Julia’s expression was thoughtful. "Look," she said, "I don’t anything about you. That’s why we’re sitting here across from each other. And you’re right. You don’t know the first thing about me. But ask me. Anything you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Annie picked up the coffee mug the waitress had put down in front of her. "All right. Where do you live?"

"Atlanta, Georgia."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-three."

Annie gave her a look of mock surprise. "Really? Are you married?"

"No."

"Ever been married?"

"No."

"Want to be married?"

"No." Julia picked up a bread stick from the basket on the table and brandished it at Annie. "I live alone except when my father comes to visit. I’m an attorney. I have three brothers and two sisters. Except for Barry and Melissa, I think they’re pretty boring. I have two dogs, a house and an ex-lover in Dallas."

"How much of an ex?" Annie asked.

"Ex enough to be sitting across the table from you!" Julia exclaimed and laughed.

Annie again felt her eyes touching her. "How long since she left you," she asked.

"How do you know she left me?"

"You have the house and the dogs," Annie said.

Julia snapped the bread stick in two and offered Annie half.

"Pretty good," she said.

Annie took the proffered bread stick. "A year? A month?"

Julia sighed, "About eighteen months, give or take a few weeks. I had an affair," she said simply. "I got caught."

"Ouch," Annie whispered.

"Do you miss her?"

"Sometimes."

The waitress brought their order.

"And what about you, Annie?"

"Oh, I’m one of those who just bungles along trying to find someone who’s really sturdy, I guess. Even though it seems like such a serious thing to want but I do want it and that’s hard to admit that when all around me are very clear rules about being cool, savvy and hip and unconventional. Role models are just too weird whether they’re parental or not. So I try to see what’s real and true and be comfortable with that."

"I see," Julia said seriously. "Sturdy. What do you mean by that?"

Annie smirked. "Who the hell knows," she said, most days it means ‘honest’ some days it means having a job and not being fucked up on whatever is worth being high on." She paused and picked up her hamburger, studied it briefly and then took a bite.

"It’s the same in Atlanta," Julia said solemnly.

"Really," Annie remarked, "I thought Southerners had more social skills than that."

"Hardly," Julia said.

And then they changed the subject and talked about work, New York, Atlanta, cars, politics, the Atlantic Ocean and a little bit about women. They ordered dessert and split it.

"I thought you weren’t hungry," Julia remarked as Annie dug her spoon into the ice cream.

"I wasn’t sure," Annie answered. "Sometimes I eat a lot."

"A growing girl," Julia said, teasing. She leaned toward Annie, elbows on the table, eyes scanning Annie’s face.

"Why do you do that" Annie asked.

"Do what?"

"That. Look at me like that."

"Because you are delightful to look at."

Annie leaned over the table at Julia, close enough to see the deep green flecked in the eyes of the woman across from her. "You make me crazy," she said. "absolutely crazy."

"Is that bad?"

"I don’t know," Annie said with a grin. "Not necessarily."

"Well," Julia said, gently with a warm, teasing smile. "I suppose that’s not necessarily a bad thing but it’s late and you should be getting home."

As if on cue the waitress brought the check. They split it, left the restaurant and waked to the corner both of them quiet. Annie pushed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and looked down 6th Avenue. In her head she could hear Julia’s voice and it seemed as if that moment in the park happened an eternity ago. She closed her eyes and heard the water in the fountain and the voice that had touched her.

"Where are you staying?" Annie asked her.

"At the JW Marriott."

"On West street?"

"Yes."

Annie flagged down a cab and got in. "Gramercy and Park," she said looking straight ahead.

"Well," Julia said, her voice low and lyrical, "Well, well, well."

Annie switched on the light and let Julia walk ahead of her into the living room.

"This is wonderful," the woman said.

Annie tossed her keys into the basket on the table near the door and stood there, waiting, nervousness creeping into her like the humidity.

"Would you like some tea," she finally asked.

"No. Thank you."

"Water?"

"No. Thank you."

Annie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. When she opened them Julia was standing in front of her, very close.

"How long has it been?" Julia asked as she brushed Annie’s hair back from her face.

Annie closed her eyes again. "A long time," she whispered.

The warmth of Julia’s lips reached hers before they touched and Annie felt herself being held close by strong hands on each hip.

"A long time," Julia whispered. "Now what shall we do about that?"

"Whatever you like," Annie said and then with the effort of one fighting the glare of bright light opened her eyes.

What she opened them to was the wildness in Julia’s eyes a wildness she knew was her own. She felt full, aching heat in her breasts but if she thought she was afraid that fear was not strong enough to stop her. I don’t care what happens, she thought. I will not lose this. And so she took Julia by the hand and they went to her bedroom. She drew the blinds and left a light on very low. And she went to where Julia was standing and waited, trying to see clearly the woman who was standing in her room, looking into her eyes for some reason to be afraid. But there was no reason. The woman she saw there was real, safe and gentle.

"You are so sweet," Julia whispered as she lifted Annie’s shirt and ran her hands lightly and warmly over her breasts.

"So sweet," Julia murmured as she reached down and drew her tongue slowly along the smooth curve of Annie’s neck.

"I can’t believe you are here," Annie said leaning into her. "I can’t believe you found me there."

"And here," Julia said lifting her, bringing her to the bed, taking off each and every piece of clothing as if it were a secret. And she let Annie do the same until they were naked and warm for each other. And Annie heard herself moan, deep and low in her throat as Julia gathered Annie underneath herself and lay above the length of her. Annie felt and followed the fiery, delicate tongue that teased her and made her want to scream. She heard herself gasp when Julia’s strong fingers found her and dove into the wet of her demanding and confident fingers that made her open and open and open, made her want more and more and more. She heard herself scream but not scream, moan but not moan cry almost but not cry for the fingers and tongue that made her feel belly calf hip navel curve and curve of breast and thigh. And she felt a rush of light and wet heat when Julia, leaning over her, brushing the hair from her face, saying in a voice that commanded, gently, turn over, a command gently given that was more than she could stand, the only possible response was to let go and receive the thrilling, aching throbbing that found her again and took her to that place. The strong, safe arm around her. The softness that leaned into her as she opened and surrendered was stunning and supernatural. Giving. Melting. Breathing in. Absorbing. Capturing forever in memory and cell the sweet heavy musk of the power and delight they shared with each other.

"What shall I do with you?" Annie whispered afterwards. "what?"

Julia leaned over her and kissed Annie’s shoulder.

"Anything, you like," she whispered back. "Anything you want."

And for Annie those words opened her to her own knowledge of gentle power and

she reached for Julia, taking each wonderful mound of softness into her mouth as she drank and licked, teased and nipped until the heat in them moved in and through her. And she ran her own strong hands over the fullness of the woman beside her and she crawled childlike onto her to began a long, lingering descent along the length of her luscious milky sweetness down to the roundness of belly, the fragrance of clit and the full lips that cradled it. And it was there that she heard herself gasp again, heard the echo of herself in Julia’s deep, sweet, lyrical moaning. Every breath from her thrilled her, brought to bear everything in her, exposed, captured and selected in moments to fast to understand anything but the will to please and to pleasure the marvelous body beneath her. Annie was called to find everything in her moving with everything along the rhythm of their ritual. She felt herself falling finally, wondrously, falling into the woman she entered and held and melted.