If I Look Back

I can’t help but swell with pride when I see Lilly and Basil making their way backstage. She looks amazing. Her hair is down in loose curls that spill over her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes are bright and clear with only mascara but her lips are tinted red. The black dress fits her like a glove and her heels accentuate her legs perfectly.

When Basil sends her skidding into me, I pull her into me so that she doesn’t spill off of her heels. Immediately my nose is filled with the scent of her shampoo. The dress has a low cut back and my hand touches her bare skin. She laughs nervously. I push her back a bit so I can see her face.

When she says the performance was brilliant, I can barely keep my head on straight.

While I’ve known her for a few weeks now, I am unwilling to admit that I have become very attached to her. She has a beautiful laugh and a sense of humor that I can relate to. She is kind but has a bit of sass. She has been supportive and interested in my work and is always encouraging. She doesn’t scold me or lose interest when I get going on a tangent. She will ask questions and allow me to explain.

I release her when I notice that I’ve held on to her for an extended period of time. I introduce the others that are backstage but eventually the conversation becomes dull and I am tired. But Lilly creates an out for us and I am immediately relieved.

On the way to the pub, she links her arms with Basil and me and uses us as leverage to lift herself up off the ground. She swings her legs back and forth before dropping back down.

“Seriously,” Basil says with a scoff. “Just like a child.”

“Hush, Basil.” She says quietly before leaning her head on my arm.

Once back at the pub, Basil pours drinks. He takes turns with Lilly toasting their favorite parts of the play. Eventually, we are all rather sauced and are toasting whatever we can think of, even Lilly’s dress.

“Well, gentlemen, I’ve worked all day and I am tired. I will say goodnight now.” She says around 12:30.

“I’ll walk you home.” I volunteer and grab my coat. I can tell immediately, as I try to put it on, that I have had a little bit too much to drink.

We say our goodbyes to Basil and he winks at me before the doors close.

The walk home is quiet; neither of us knows what to say. Lilly links arms with me, stabilizing us both. When we reach her gate, she looks at me, unsure of something.

“Benedict,” she begins, unsure. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

After a moment of indecision, I accept her offer.

Once the door is open, she switches on the light and ushers me in. She kicks off her heels at the door and goes directly for her closet.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.” She calls before going into another room.

Her flat is a studio and but the main room is spacious. Immediately to the right of the door is a large window, covered with curtains. The farthest wall is mostly built in shelving except for the fireplace. The shelves are covered with books and trinkets but there are only a few photos. The TV is mounted above the fireplace. There is an arm chair under the window and a small table.

On the opposite wall, to my left, is her bed and nightstand. The bed canopied with billowing white fabric and the bedding is fluffy and all in purples and navy blue. I imagine the doors on the far wall belong to her wardrobe.

There is also a small hallway that leads presumably to the kitchen and bathroom.

The walls are olive green except for the shelves, which are white.

I sit down in the armchair and wait for her to reemerge. I hear the door open and kitchen light switches on.

“How do you take your tea?” she calls, while pulling cups down fro the cupboard.

“Black with 2 sugars, please.” I call back. “Can I help?” I ask.

“Don’t be silly.” She replies with a careless wave of her hand.

A few moments later, she emerges with 2 cups of tea. She has pulled her curls back into a ponytail and changed into black yoga pants and a long sleeved olive green thermal top.

I am noticing a color trend. She settles onto the edge of the bed and blows on her tea before taking a careful sip.

“I guess I don’t have it well set up in here for entertaining.” She says, rather sheepishly. “Come sit over here and we’ll watch tele.” She moves over to the far side of the bed, leaving enough room for me to sit beside her but still have personal space.

She flips on the tv and we eventually decide on BBC reruns of classic Doctor Who.

Around 2:30am, she begins to slump to the side and I gently take the tea up from her hands and carefully get up to rinse them in the sink. When I get back, I am unsure as to whether or not I should leave or stay.

When I move to get my shoes and my coat, she sleepily wakes and chastises me.

“Don’t be silly. It’s nearly 3am.” She gets up and goes into the bathroom, returning with one toothbrush in her hand, which she hands to me while brushing her own teeth. “I’ll drive you home in the morning.” She mumbles through a mouthful of toothpaste.

Once our teeth are brushed and our faces are washed, Lilly gets into bed on her usual side and let’s me settle in on the other. Her presence is warm but not overwhelming. I switch off the light and lean back into her pillows. Her bed is fluffy, soft and cozy. Within minutes, I hear her soft breathing change and I know she is asleep.

I am comfortable here. I feel like she wants me here but has no expectations other than that I am here beside her in the dark.

I drift off to sleep with a clear mind and a peaceful heart.