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.
