Civic Light Opera Internship Ch 02

Civic Light Opera (CLO) Internship - Ch. 2

With permission, Jasmine

A/N -

I would like to share with you the next chapter in the continuation of our protagonist's life story. This fun fictional jaunt will follow Frances as she begins the next chapter in her life.

This storyline as well as the characters and names are purely fictional. If there is a chance of any misrepresentation, it is pure coincidence and not intended.

Any mistakes you see are mine; these eyes aren't what they used to be. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.

*****

January

I was startled from my daze when I heard my name. "Frances?"

I brought myself back to reality to see a woman standing in front of me. I smiled, "Pardon me, I was daydreaming."

She smiled and extended her hand. "Hello, I am Jasmine, I am the other Music intern this semester, we will be partnering together. I thought I would introduce myself."

I accepted her hand while she was speaking. I was mesmerized as she spoke, her voice soft, and her fingers and hand soft, her words as if they floated in the air. I was amazed. She was a talker; I just listened as she shared her background in her local community theater where she was from in southern West Virginia. She had moved to Pittsburgh two years ago and had been on campus since.

As we finished half of a conversion our attention was requested. We were asked to take our seats. Jasmine offered, "After you." I shivered again hearing more of her southern accent in her spoken words.

Oh damn Michaela this was going to be difficult.

***** End of Chapter 1*****

I finished orientation on Tuesday afternoon. The internships are considered full-time working at a minimum 32 hours per week for the full spring semester and as such we were required to attend employee orientation. The work schedule for each intern includes at a minimum every Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. This was reiterated to us.

At the end of the long challenging and mentally numbing day, I bid farewell to Jasmine and a few others as I headed home. I thought I was in the clear as I walked out of the conference room and into the hallway when I heard my name being called.

"Frances?" Then again, "Hey Frances, wait up a second."

It was Jasmine oh that southern drawl. Her accent stirred something inside. Damn I didn't need this. Not to be mean but I have had two full days already of being near her and of temptation every time I looked at her. Fuck she was walking closer to me. Ugh!

"Hey Jasmine!" I turned and waited.

"What's the rush?" She caught up with me. We started walking together.

"Jasmine, to be honest, two straight days of mind-numbing lectures is enough. I think I just need to relax. I am excited about Thursday, our first day at the CLO." I offered a smile. "I am just excited; I have class all day tomorrow."

She smiled and agreed with a humming sound. Then I heard, "Maybe we can get a coffee some afternoon or dinner."

I could immediately hear her hesitation and her potential mistake. "Not that ... no umm that I ... I didn't mean ..." she sighed heavily.

I stopped and turned to her. "Jasmine, it's okay." I took a short step closer to her. "I will think about it. Alright?"

I smiled and gently reached up, touching her name badge. 'She / Her / Hers' I turned the badge over and saw her Pride Pin.

I moved a step closer and whispered in her ear, "You are a lot stronger than I am; I haven't put my Pride Pin on my badge. I am not sure what I should or shouldn't do right now. It's complicated for me, Jasmine."

I stepped back. "Till Thursday?" She smiled. I walked out of the building to the parking garage.

I sat in my car. I took a deep breath. As I started my car I grabbed my phone. '

M just wanted to say I hope you are having a good day ❤ F'

I pressed send and started my car heading home to study. I pulled into the drive and made my way into the house. Mom and Momma were putting the final touches on dinner. Mom asked if I was joining them. I begged her off, telling her I would study for a bit.

It was two hours later when there was a soft knock on my door. I slid my chair back from my desk, walked over and opened the door. Momma was standing there; she was carrying a bowl with chicken and rice as well as a spoon and napkin. She smiled.

"You, young lady, need to eat. I have a bottle of water on the floor outside the door. Please grab it." She tilted her head to the left.

"Thank you Momma."

I watched as she walked over and put the bowl, spoon and napkin on my desk. She turned and watched as I made my way the short 10 steps to my desk. I could tell there was something on her mind.

"Can we chat a bit Frances, when you finish supper? There is something your mother and I need to discuss with you?" Momma asked me.

I nodded. "Okay Momma, do you mind giving me an hour please? I have THEA-302 in the morning. I need to study." I asked. She smiled and walked out heading downstairs.

She had me thinking, curious but I needed to focus. I finished with the required reading and then took notes as I felt I needed to. The chicken and rice had gone cold. I would grab breakfast on the way out and lunch tomorrow in between classes.

I grabbed my phone and sent Mich a text, '

Love you M. Momma wants to chat what's going on?'

I watched the message change to; Delivered". Seconds later my phone rang. 🎶🎶🎶 I don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips, ooh-ooh-ooh 🎶🎶🎶

"Hey Mich."

"Listen closely and carefully, you must act surprised when you go downstairs. Do you hear me?" Her tone was sharp as she snapped at me.

"Yeah what's up?" Michaela never snapped like this.

"Frannie, this is serious."

I grunted a response but also rolled my eyes. Then it hit me, something was wrong. "Wait! Are you okay? Are you sick? What's wrong?"

"Frannie stop! Listen! Please! You are going to find out that we have different parents."

I interrupted her. "Well yeah. Momma is your mom, Mom and my mom and the whole sperm donor thing we are half-sisters"

"Frances stop and just listen damn it." Michaela screamed at me. "Shut up and listen." She started crying. "We aren't sisters!"

Through the tears I heard her. "All this time I thought we were sisters, all this fucking time, until I did the entire DNA thing, I had to do this DNA thing as well as the paperwork for my background check for my hospital clearance and fingerprints. I needed information from Momma." She was crying even harder.

I sat on my bed and listened, I was in shock the entire time. I started crying myself, I cried for Michaela. "We do not have the same father. She will explain it all. I have to go, I love you. No matter what, I love you Frances! Remember that no matter what I love you!" She disconnected the call.

I was shocked, stunned and flabbergasted. Wait, so what? Big fucking deal.

I thought for a minute. What does that matter? She is still my sister. For the more than twenty-one years we have been together, through thick and thin, through trying on our first bras, through our first periods, during our first dates, through our firsts of everything, twenty-one years.

Okay so we have been lied to about sperm. What the ever loving fuck! I screamed into my pillow holding it tight against my face. Oh god!

I raised my head from my pillow. It was as if the angelic choir sang the proverbial 🎶🎶🎶 Ahhhh 🎶🎶

It just didn't matter did it? What does it really matter who the sperm donor is? In fact, this makes it better, we aren't related, this is love, it isn't taboo or incest. I was thrilled but still cried for her. My sister, the woman I love, was sad. I would be strong for her.

I washed my face to try and stop the tears, it just didn't work. For some reason I cried even more worrying about Michaela. She seemed so broken up on the phone. It didn't matter to me, that would be my stance. She is still my sister and always will be. Sperm doesn't matter!

I made my way down the steps and into the living room. Mom and Momma were sitting there with a glass of wine, each of them. Oh boy this was serious if Mom was drinking wine.

"It's a wine kind of conversation huh?" I said as I sat down on the other couch.

"She called you didn't she?" Momma asked.

"You both told us to never have secrets and to be open, so we don't have secrets, ever."

"Frannie." My mom started. "Listen, I want to share something with you. It's important. Momma and I never thought it would matter and really it doesn't. But you need to know." My mom started.

I politely raised my hand and smiled. "Mom, she told me different sperm from a different donor. She is my sister no matter what. What's the big deal?" I said rather frankly but respectfully.

"She is Michaela, my sister, Francis is my brother, it doesn't matter." I stood and kissed them both then turned to Momma. "I didn't come from your womb but you are my Momma, I didn't suckle at your breasts but you are my Momma, you are my other parent.

I turned to my Mom. You didn't always feed her, you bathed us, you changed us, you both raised us. She is my sister and I love her."

I kissed them both and wished them good night and went back to my bedroom. I needed to study. My mind was on Michaela. I couldn't shake it, she needed to know.

'M from that first day, until the end of days, you are my sister, sperm doesn't matter! I love you F'

*****

I finished with class. I was thrilled I spent extra time studying. I made my way from campus to my car. I sat in my car for a second replaying last night's conversation in my mind. I was good but I was still worried about Michaela. I was tired from a full day of class. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

And that is what I did. I made my way home through the light traffic and the light snow that started to fall coating the roads. Once safely at home I relaxed, grabbing my books and hunkering down in my bedroom reading. Sleep finally overtook me. I dreamed of my loving sister and all the memories which made us a family.

Thursday morning I finished my first class. I had two hours before I needed to be at the theater for my first real day of the internship. I was wavering, deciding if I should go home or go to Marcie's. It was then my phone vibrated with an incoming text from an unknown number.

'Frances, it's Jasmine, are you free for lunch?'

I was confused, how did she get my number. I hesitated. God this was dangerous. Suddenly there was warmth that came over me. My mind flashed back to Tuesday when I last heard her voice. I shivered and replied.

'I can do lunch where?'

'The hub?'

Jasmine replied.

'K CYA in 10'

I replied and stepped from my car and headed back out into the frigid Pittsburgh winter, walking back to campus for lunch.

The hub or student center would be swamped today. The blustery Pittsburgh winter weather would challenge students to brave the outside. Instead most would stay in and eat in the hub, again which is normally not so popular or full on nicer days. Frankly, the food in and around the area is much better.

I entered the hub, the weather was a reflection of how busy the hub was and that indicator was spot on. It was packed with only a few of the one hundred tables open. I looked searching left to right, then right to left, looking for her.

I shivered when I heard her voice. The southern drawl of her West Virginia heritage sparked my brain. "Frances, thank you for joining me on a chilly day." She was purposeful in her words.

I slowly turned to gaze upon her. You see, unlike Rebecca's jet black hair, Jasmine's is the opposite ofn the color spectrum, and yes, black is really a color.

Last semester in the Art class I took, there was a passionate discussion regarding the color black and is it a color. I learned in a class last semester, most of those in the art world argued that black is not a color, rather than the lack of color. For argument's sake while in the class I argued there is color present.

I shared the example of when I first laid my eyes upon the prettiest shade of black. But I did not say that the shade of black color was filled with beauty and elegance. That beauty and elegance was the dynamic shade of black I saw of Rebecca's hair not only inviting but amazingly stunning.

I stood on the preface that the beauty that I saw in that shade and color of black was one I had never seen before. There were many on my side of the argument, and also opposed by the purest of art again the color back was truly no color at all, it was just black, the lack of color.

Now on the opposite end of the art spectrum, Jasmine's hair was soft, light, a pale yellow, the nearest color of a true flowering yellow Jasmine. How absolutely appropriate her name is. I paused briefly, I was caught off guard again by the honey wheat, the yellow, and the soft lighter brown highlights in her hair. I almost reached up brushing the stray strand of hair out of her eye.

A few strands fell over her left eye. It was almost as a tease, or was it purposeful? Either way it was hypnotic, I was still, just looking. Now I was looking in her left eye with beauty and grace. She stared back; I was caught up in the moment.

She smiled first, breaking the trance. I smiled immediately afterwards. I needed to say something.

"That was a beautiful moment.' I blurted. Gawd, that was almost as perfect but it had the potential to be as awkward as possible. "Don't think I am weird please."

The back of her hand touched mine, and it wasn't accidental. It was absolutely purposeful. "I agree with you it was perfect." I smiled and I swear I wet my panties.

"I was going to have soup and a salad, care to join me?" Jasmine asked in an open invitation. I nodded and followed her to the serving line.

We ordered and waited as our food was finally prepared and then sought out a table for our relaxation and lunch. Finally deciding on a table in the center of the hub, which wasn't my initial choice but it was available, we sat and chatted.

I learned she was the second child, the "other daughter", of her staunch Southern Baptist parents. She was a few years younger than her older sister. The comparisons were constant. It is why she needed to move out of the area and attend Point Park. The other comparison and need to move was her open admission of her sexuality.

I sat there listening, mesmerized by her drive and desire for success. She often referred to her parents as 'them and her sister as 'her'. I didn't see or get a vibe of love in her family like in mine. At one point as I enjoyed the last bit of the tomato soup, that strand of hair appeared again. I was so tempted to move it out of her eyesight but yet I let it be as I rather enjoyed seeing it.

When we finished our lunch there was that slight bit of dead air, when the conversation lapsed. I spoke a bit quicker than I should have. My eyes are still staring at that strand of hair.

"I would love to have dinner with you." I spoke quickly. She smiled and winked.

"I would like that. Maybe even a drink after we finish tonight."

I felt myself start to blush. I got warmer and could feel the blood flushing my cheeks ... and somewhere else.

I looked at my watch as I felt my phone buzz. "Oh, we better get moving."

Now don't ask me why but the next thing out of my mouth was "Ride with me."

She smiled and winked. "I can walk."

"No!" I retorted quickly. "It's too cold, ride with me." Christ I was almost begging.

Jasmine smiled and nodded. "If you insist."

Away we went, walking one block down Smithfield Street to the parking lot. We drove to the Theater Square garage where we parked and made our way inside for our first real day as interns.

As we ended the day, I walked with Jasmine back to the car, offering her a ride to campus.

"Could you ride me home? The bus to Shadyside won't come for another hour."

Oh I shivered thinking of the possibilities. "Of course I live that way. Saves you from being out in the cold and gives me a bit of company driving part way home."

Once in the garage, I did the honorable thing, and walked over to her door first and opened it. I held the door as Jasmine got in. I watched her movement; I watched how she shifted her body as she carefully swung her legs in getting settled.

I ran around to the front of the car, then in the driver's side and jumped in starting the car for warmth. There was something there, a gut feeling, a need for each of us, but this was too soon to act on anything.

As we pulled up to her curb I offered her a ride in the morning to class if she needed and a ride home after work tomorrow. She was gracious and thanked me then told me she would think about it. She didn't want to be a bother.

"A bother! Why would you think that Jasmine?" I replied softly without pushing the envelope too hard. "You aren't a bother Jas."

She reiterated she would think about it and jumped from the car running up the sidewalk. Once she was safely inside I headed home. I took the backroads instead of fighting the Parkway East. I got home and settled in bed. I sent Michaela a text.

'From the Earth to the Moon, to Mars, to Venus and back to Earth. That is the length of love I have for you. F'

*****

I woke up in the morning to the ping of a text message.

'If that ride is still available I would appreciate it. It is bitter out there this morning. Jas'

I smiled and replied that I would pick her up at 8:30 or thereabouts as I had a 9:30 class. I shivered walking out of the house into the cold. Damn it would be one of those weeks. I called Jasmine as I was a block away. As I pulled up she came running out to greet me. We exchanged a good morning but then she winked at me as she smiled. I decided to push the envelope a tiny bit.

"Is that all I get is a wink? Well I'll be!" I giggled watching the road as I pulled away from her duplex and turned right on to Fifth Avenue.

We came to a stop at the next traffic light. I heard the riffling movement of her nylon coat before I felt her lips kissing my cheek. It was soft and lasted just the perfect amount of time. What startled me and triggered my heart was when her nose touched my skin and I felt the warmth of her breath as she exhaled.

"There, is that better?" She softly said.

I turned my head and smiled. "Yes actually." We heard the beep of the car horn behind us as the light turned green. We made our way to campus. I parked the car in the student parking lot and turned off the car. I smiled and took a deep breath and as I opened the door I said.

"Next time you kiss me like that, warn me. I will turn and face you so you can kiss me properly." I opened my car door and walked out into the cold. I called over my shoulder, "Text if you want to have lunch."

I thought I heard her say something but I must have been mistaken. I continued walking to class thinking nothing of my comment ... but that was a lie.

Three hours later I walked into the hub and looked for her, the text I received said she would be here at half past twelve. I felt her breath as I heard her whisper my name in my ear. I immediately shivered and turned.

I smiled. "You made me shiver." I looked in her eyes again. "I can't see your hair in that hat. I don't like that." I said flatly then turned walking to the counter to order my soup and salad.

A few minutes later Jasmine found me against the one back wall. We had a nice but surprisingly quiet lunch. As I finished I asked if something was bothering her. She shook her head and told me not to worry. It was then I spoke.

"One thing Momma always told me as a girl growing up was when someone said not to worry, you

need to worry.

" I paused, ""What is wrong?"