It’s a Small Uber World After All
Chapter Four
LJ Maas
“Do my hips look big in these slacks?”
Taylor Kent craned her neck in order to look at her own reflection in the hotel’s full-length mirror. She turned this way and that, seemingly ignored by the blonde-haired woman seated on the sofa.
“Hey, I’m being shown in the National Gallery, what do I have to do to rate some attention around here?”
“Argh!” Torrey cried out at the television set. Turning to Taylor the blonde-haired woman said, “Play some defense and throw a football.”
“Ahh,” Taylor replied with an understanding tone. She walked over to where her partner was watching the TV and seated herself on the arm of the sofa. “You’re watching the Bears, eh?”
She didn’t receive a response. Torrey had already turned her attention back to the game.
“Son of a--“
“Torrey!”
“Well look at them! Pathetic bunch of mother--”
“Why is it that you hardly ever curse, but the minute the Bears’ game comes on you use language that would make a marine blush? Honey, it's just a game.”
Torrey glared up at her partner. "Bears' games are never just games."
"Sorry," Taylor replied, rising and trying to hide the grin on her face. She knew better than to tease her lover about her Chicago teams, but she just couldn't help herself some of the time. Torrey took it all so seriously.
"Hey, come on, give me a hand," Taylor said as she crossed the room to stand before the mirror again. "We have to get going if we're going to make it on time and I still can't decide what to wear. Now answer me. Do my hips look too big in these pants?"
Torrey was so intent on watching the television set that she answered in a more distracted fashion than she intended. "They look as big as they do in everything else you wear."
Torrey realized the way her words had sounded just a moment too late, in that split second after she uttered them. She pulled her attention from the TV and looked over to find her lover glaring down at her. One of Taylor's eyebrows arched high up into her dark bangs as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Torrey mustered up an innocent expression. "I guess, being a writer and all, I could have phrased that differently, huh?"
"I guess."
"I didn't really mean it the way it came out you know." Torrey apologized as she moved closer to Taylor.
"Uh huh."
Torrey reached Taylor and slipped her arms around the taller woman's waist. "Maybe I could do something to...you know...make it up to you?"
Taylor couldn't keep a straight face any longer. She smiled and reached down, placing a quick kiss on the tip of Torrey's nose. "I'll make you a list...for later." She winked and both women laughed easily.
"Besides, you look magnificent, just like you always do," Torrey said.
"Oh yea, suck up now."
"Well, it's true."
"Okay, I believe you. What do you say we get going to the Museum now?"
"Lead on McDuff."
************
"This place is incredible, Stretch." Torrey said, indicating the outdoor sculpture garden that was a part of the National Gallery.
"Yea, now tell me what they want with my stuff here."
"I don't know, maybe they got tired of the garden gnomes."
Taylor looked down at her partner. "Perhaps you're uncertain as to your role in this conversation."
Torrey laughed aloud, squeezing Taylor's arm as she did so. "I'm sorry, honey, just teasing. You and I both know that you're the artist of the decade and the National Gallery merely showed good taste in inviting you to create a permanent exhibit."
"That's better," Taylor replied and offered a lopsided grin. "It's happening again," she added as she stared at something over Torrey's shoulder.
"What?"
"A couple over there staring at us."
"Honey," Torrey began through light laughter. "We've both had our pictures plastered everywhere in D.C. this week. We're bound to get that a bit."
"It's sort of unnerving, though."
"Because people are staring at you?" Torrey asked in disbelief. "I would have thought you'd be used to that by now."
"No, because they're the second, obviously lesbian couple that I've seen in D.C. this week--“
"I'll call out the militia."
"Very funny. I meant to say that I find something odd about they way they look. They each look like...well...us. You know, in a weird sort of way."
Torrey turned, but the couple in question had already disappeared inside the Gallery. She attempted to put Taylor at ease, knowing the tall woman's nerves were simply on edge because of the excitement of the day.
"Maybe we've started a trend. Tall dark woman fall for incredibly gorgeous, not to mention well built, intelligent blonde."
"You forgot to mention humble, too."
The two women laughed together, walking arm in arm around the various outdoor exhibits.
"Hey, let's go inside and find one of those restaurants. I'm starving," Torrey eventually said.
"Gee, what a surprise," Taylor shot back. She glanced around nervously, however, just before she and Torrey re-entered the museum.
************
"God, what a day!" Taylor kicked off her black pumps the moment they entered the spacious room. "I swear, next time I have to get dressed up I'm going to pull that eclectic artist thing and wear tennis shoes with my suit."
"I hear you, but you were fantastic today, Stretch. I'm proud of you. It's quite an accomplishment to be asked to display work at the National Gallery." Torrey gave the taller woman a hug. "Do you feel like you've finally made it?"
"Thanks, Little Bit, but I think that happened when you and JT moved in with me." Taylor returned the affection.
"You always know just what to say," Torrey replied in a sleepy voice.
"Tired?" Taylor asked after she noticed Torrey's stifled yawn.
"Yep. I think I'd like nothing better than a nice hot shower right about now."
"Nothing better?" Taylor reached down and kissed her lover soundly.
"Hhmm...well, it may not be number one, but it's up there."
"Go on," Taylor laughed. "Take your shower and relax. How about if I order room service and we eat dinner in the room tonight?"
"Ooh, great idea. Don't forget dessert." Torrey called back as she entered the bathroom.
"Oh, I've got something you can eat for dessert," Taylor responded.
"Oh no!"
"Well, we don't have to..." Taylor looked up in confusion as Torrey returned to the sitting room.
"No, I mean oh no, I left my laptop sitting on the front seat of the car."
Taylor took one look at the expression on Torrey's face and moved to where she'd kicked off her shoes. "Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes."
"You're a sweetheart. Thanks, Stretch."
"Yea, yea. Go take your shower. I'll be back in a few." Taylor kissed Torrey, grabbed the keys to the rental car, and left the room.
It took no more than ten minutes for Taylor to locate the wayward computer. She stopped at the desk just to check if they'd had any messages before heading back upstairs.
Taylor didn't hear the water running in the shower when she walked into their hotel room. "Tor?" There was only silence in response. "Tor?"
Taylor cautiously moved into the bathroom. She noticed the water had been turned off, but the curtain was still pulled around the large tub. "Tor? You in there?"
"Thank God!" Torrey's voice came from behind the shower curtain. "What took you so long?"
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Well, that's sort of hard to explain..."
Taylor pushed the curtain back to find Torrey on her knees in the tub. The rest of the sight was almost too much to believe. "What in the world did you do?" Taylor asked, losing the battle not to laugh.
"What the hell does it look like?" It was apparent Torrey was a step past irate.
"Well, it looks like you've got your hand stuck in the drain." More laughter.
"You're a friggin' prodigy. That's exactly what happened, and quit laughing!"
"Well...I mean...what...Jesus, Hon, how did this happen?"
Taylor reached over and grabbed a large bath towel. She did her best to wrap it around the kneeling woman. She got down on her own knees and bent over the edge of the tub, examining Torrey's hand. The blonde had somehow buried her hand into the drain all the way up to the wrist.
"How on God's earth did you get it in there in the first place?" Taylor questioned.
"My hand was all covered in soap. I think it just slipped right in."
"Well, there's the answer then. We'll just cover your hand in soap again, twist it around, turn on the water and then--"
"No!"
"No? What do you mean no?"
"We can't twist anything and we most certainly can't turn on the water."
Taylor leaned back, seating herself on the floor and running a hand through her dark hair. "Okay, Hon, you've lost me here. Why don't you start at the top and tell me what the heck happened."
"You're going to think I'm insane."
Taylor merely arched an eyebrow. "It ain't looking' real good for you now."
"Har har. I was all soaped up and somehow..." Torrey looked at Taylor with a sheepish expression. "Well...my ring fell off."
"I told you not to wear that anymore until we got it resized," Taylor responded.
The ring had become a wedding ring of sorts for the pair. Taylor had bought it many years before she and Torrey became a couple. She had originally meant it as a friendship ring, with Taylor wearing an identical one, but over the years, it came to mean something more to the two women.
Torrey had lost a few pounds since moving to California and her ring began to loosen until it actually fell off one day. She refused to be without the piece of jewelry, even to have it sized. She realized now that she put that off one day too many.
"So, the ring is gone and your hand is stuck. That's okay, Little Bit."
"Well...it's not exactly gone."
Taylor looked down at Torrey's hand, then back into her lover's face.
"You're holding on to the ring down there, aren't you?"
Torrey shrugged and smiled self consciously before allowing tears to fill her eyes.
Taylor softened at the sight, as she so often did. "Okay, okay, Hon. We can figure this out, don't cry, okay? You can let go of it. We'll have someone make a ring just like that one."
"It won't be the same."
"Torrey, be reasonable."
"Stretch."
Taylor huffed out a long breath. She never could resist when Torrey used that old nickname.
"All right, I'll call the desk and see if they can get a plumber up here. Let's see if they can offer any advice. Do you know how embarrassing this is going to be to explain?"
"Excuse me?" Torrey indicated the towel that covered her body.
"Oh yea, well, I'll get your robe before I call."
************
"Ya wanna tell me one more time how this happened?"
"No, I do not!" Torrey responded.
Taylor could see that the confused plumber's disbelief over the whole situation, coupled with Torrey's growing frustration, made for a potentially volatile combination.
"Look," Taylor began. "She can't relax her hand without losing her grip on the ring she has a hold of. We need to get into the pipes some way and get the ring. Is that possible?"
"Well, I guess. It might be possible to go in from the room below, but there's guests there and I'd need special permission..."
"Just point me in the direction of whoever I need to talk to," Taylor said.
Half an hour later, Taylor stood before a large door. It was the room on the floor below theirs. She had been standing there for nearly five minutes. She had no idea what she could possibly say to these people to make it sound as though she was even the tiniest bit sane.
"Hi, I'm Taylor Kent and a funny thing happened to my wife during her shower. Oh, no...that doesn't sound too damn crazy. Okay, I guess it's now or never..."
She knocked on the door and a young woman pulled it open. Taylor seemed just as surprised as the stranger. This was the blonde that Taylor had seen at the National Gallery, one of a pair of women who had stared at her oddly enough to make her feel self conscious. One of the reasons that the pair had caught the artist's attention was that the woman before her looked like a younger version of Torrey. The feeling unnerved Taylor a small bit.
"Hi, I'm--"
"Oh my God!"
Taylor whirled around to see what was behind her at the young woman's exclamation.
"It's you," the stranger exuberantly bubbled.
Taylor realized that the girl had simply recognized the artist. She figured that charm was the way to go, considering her request.
"Taylor Kent, and you are?" Taylor asked with a smile.
"Me? I'm...uhm...oh, geez. I'm uhm..."
"Taken."
A tall brunette suddenly appeared behind the blonde and she and Taylor arched an eyebrow at one another at the same time. It was an uncanny sort of déjà vu moment for them both.
The blonde turned to glare at the brunette. "Brooke!" She turned back toward Taylor and extended a hand. "Sorry, I'm Samantha Moleson and the humorous woman behind me is my partner, Brooke Gordon. I was just a little thrown. We love your work and we just saw you this afternoon at the National Gallery."
"Thanks, I always appreciate meeting a fan," Taylor lied. "Gordon? Aren’t you in a band?"
"Used to be...drummer. I work on the other end of the music business now. I own a recording company."
"Yea," Taylor nodded. "Anti...uhm...gravity?"
Brooke arched one eyebrow once more. "Anti-Zero."
"Ah. Sorry."
“You don’t exactly look like the type to have heard them.”
“Actually it was my daughter,” Taylor replied.
"So, there was something you needed?" Brooke asked impatiently.
"Brooke...manners," Samantha reminded her lover. "What can we do for you Ms. Kent?"
"Uhm, yea, that."
It took nearly five minutes for Taylor to explain her dilemma. By the time she had finished, the two strangers just looked at one another.
"So, what do you want us to do again?" asked the brunette in a halting tone.
"Nothing, we just need your room for a couple of hours. Go have dinner, my treat."
"And come back to a torn apart bathroom?" Brooke questioned.
"I swear, if this works out we'll give you the suite we're in...anything." Taylor ran her fingers through her hair. "Look, I know how insane this sounds, and if it was anything else, but it's our wedding ring. I just can't disappoint her...not for this."
Brooke looked down at the blonde beside her and knew exactly how the older woman felt. "Okay, give us ten minutes."
"Thank you. I won't forget this."
"Not when you see how much this one can eat, you won't," Brooke chuckled as she jerked a thumb in her partner's direction.
************
"See anything yet?"
Taylor leaned over the plumber, effectively hiding anything the man might have seen in the tall artist's shadow. He looked up at the woman in exasperation.
"Maybe you could be more of a help if you was upstairs with your friend," he said.
"No, I'm good."
"She might need something...you know some help as soon as I get this pipe off. You could just...well, like be a moral support."
Taylor was silent for a moment. "Actually, she's the one that sent me down here to bug you instead of her."
"Uh huh," he replied. “It’s working.”
"Okay, okay. I'll go in the other room. Holler as soon as you get close, all right?"
"Will do."
Taylor walked into the other room and settled into a chair before rising only a few moments later to pace the floor. She wished she could be doing more, but frankly, simply staying out of Torrey's hair was probably help enough at this point.
She sat down once more and noticed the program and map from the National Gallery. It made her think of the young couple that had reminded her so uncannily of she and Torrey. Taylor looked around and located a large pad of paper and a pencil sitting on the desk. She began to sketch the couple from memory, which was easy, since seeing them had been rather like looking in a mirror. She finished the drawing and signed it, thanking the two women once more. Taylor rose and slipped the drawing inside the Gallery program.
"Just about there," she heard the plumber shout from the bathroom.
Taylor rushed in just as the man lifted apart the section of pipe directly underneath Torrey's hand. As the artist kneeled down beside the pipe, she and the plumber both heard an amazing string of curses echo down through the pipe.
It was all in the timing as the sound of a metallic ping rang through the pipe. Taylor placed her hands under the open pipe and heartbeats later, Torrey's ring, a little worse for the wear, landed neatly into the artist's cupped palms.
"Bingo."
The plumber remained silent, still looking up as though he could see Torrey in the room above them. "She's got a bit of colorful language in her, don't she?"
Taylor couldn't help but smile. "Uhm...she's a writer," she said in the way of an apology.
************
Torrey examined her newly sized ring in the dim light over their airline seats.
"If you keep looking at it that way I'm going to get jealous," Taylor said without raising her eyes from the book in her hand.
"Oh, hush," Torrey admonished. "I'm just happy...and impressed."
"Impressed?" Taylor stopped reading and placed the book in her lap.
"Yes. You went through an awful lot of embarrassment to get this for me, Stretch."
"Only for you, Little Bit. Only for you."
"I have to remember to thank those girls if we see them at the Con. I feel like I only got to meet Brooke and Sam for a few minutes and they had to hurry off."
"Did you notice anything...oh, I don't know...odd about them? About the way they look?"
"Odd? No, I can't say as I did. Why?"
"Oh, no reason. I just have a feeling this convention is going to be...interesting."
"Me, too. I can't wait. Next stop...BardCon."
************
To be continued in Chapter 5 ....