Butterflies

"Go ahead." Sally was ready.

"I've never heard anything as hot as what he described to me. Whatever you did to him under those lights lit a fire under his tight butt, like I've never seen." She held up her hands. "Look, I've done a few love scenes, too. You're not the only one. Everyone has to these days. But, you caused a change in him. He's been ravenous. And it's affected me. It's like some incredible fire has spread from you to him to me."

Marlene paused for a moment.

Sally caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over Marlene's shoulder and realized she looked silly with her mouth slightly open.

"Anyway, as I said, I'm a direct woman," Marlene put her hands down, leaning on the sink as she continued. "I had to come to this premier tonight. You know, to see for myself. And even though it was only a film up on that screen, I was blown away. You're about the hottest thing I've seen come along in quite awhile."

Sally didn't know what to say. She did remember to close her mouth.

"Anyway, I had to talk to you. To ask you ..." Marlene stopped, then with more than a little effort, as though making some kind of leap, she leaned closer, almost to Sally's ear. "Look, I'll go for broke. Do you think you would ever like to try it with a woman?"

"I know. I know." Marlene pulled back at Sally's expression. "I can't believe I'm doing this either. I mean, I'm not a lesbian. It's just." She stopped again. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out. Then she sighed shakily and said, "I had to ask."

It took Sally a few moments to digest everything and respond. When she did it wasn't very smooth. "Well ... I ... Uh ... I ... Look, just give me a second?"

Again, things weren't happening quite like what Sally had expected.

Finally, Sally leaned forward and whispered. "Let me get this right. You want to make love? With me?"

Marlene pursed her lips into a line, and nodded. It was plain she was very embarrassed, maybe almost as much as Sally.

"Just think about it," Marlene said, furtively. "Okay? That's all I ask."

She reached into her purse, and pulled out a piece of paper.

"Here's my cel number. It's not my home number. I'd die if Randall found out."

She took Sally's hand and pressed the folded piece of paper into her palm.

"I'm not talking about a relationship or anything like that. I like being married to Randall. I like men. It's just... Well, think about it." Marlene closed her purse with a snap, and without another word, went out.

Sally rejoined the party. It was amazing how sober she now felt. After a long search, she found her boyfriend, and remained attached to him the rest of the evening. It was late when he drove her home. They only made love briefly as it was very late, and he had to work in the morning. After he had gone she rolled over in her covers, and fell into such a deliciously comfortable sleep. "What a night," she thought as she drifted away. "What a dream."

Reality dawned the next day, and it was back to cooking, back to grocery shopping, back to laundry; but at least now there were offers on the table. It wasn't even Friday, before she had already signed for another role. And strangely enough, it was that evening that she took the crumpled piece of paper out of her purse. The bit of paper she had thought about throughout the week. Not knowing really why; but enjoying the delicious feeling that flitted about in her stomach, she picked up the phone and began to dial. A voice answered after the third ring. Good thing, Sally's courage had almost evaporated, and she'd just been about to hang up.

"Hello?"

Sally froze.

"Who is this?" Marlene's voice asked.

"I don't know if you remember." Sally had to clear her throat. "But we talked, you know, the other night, at the party, the premier, I mean."

"Sally?"

"Yes."

Silence.

"Marlene?"

"Oh yes, sorry."

Sally could hear a TV in the background. Standing in the middle of her own living room, she had one hand up in her hair, her fingers twirling, her toes gripping and kneading the carpet. She just couldn't be still for a moment. "I've been thinking about, you know, our talk the other night."

"Yes," Marlene's voice was anxious, and she was whispering.

"As I was saying, I've been thinking about your ... proposal." Sally couldn't believe she was actually going to say the words. "Were you serious?"

"Totally," Marlene replied. "God, I can't believe you called. Here, let me go to the other room."

Sally waited, not knowing what to do.

"There, that's better," Marlene's voice came back on. "Randall's watching some ball game."

"Mark," Sally decided to just plunge right in, go for broke. "He's out of town this weekend. I've got tomorrow night free. I thought maybe we could talk a little more. That is if you still want to?"

For a moment there was silence; Sally's heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah, sure. I can do that." Marlene replied. "Where would you like to meet?"

"How 'bout my place," Sally said. For some reason she remembered Randall's attempt to convince her to rehearse their scene at her place, saying:" ...where you could feel more relaxed, more laid back."

"That'll be fine," Marlene responded. "I could come by about eight."

Sally swallowed. "Sure."

"Look," Marlene continued. "I'm just as nervous about all this as I'm sure you are. Let's just plan on a little talk. I'll bring a bottle of wine, and we'll just get comfortable and talk, just girls. I ... I ... How does that sound?"

Sally, for some reason felt immensely relived. "That'll be good. Here, let me give you directions." Then a few minutes later, after she had hung up and stared at the wall for what seemed the longest time, she went into the kitchen, poured herself a stiff one, and came back into the den. She plopped down on the futon, wrapping her feet under herself and turned on the TV, but couldn't think of a thing except for tomorrow night.

Ten minutes after eight, the doorbell rang. Sally had been ready since late afternoon. She'd spent the morning getting the apartment ready, and had gone out to have her nails and hair done as the last thing on her agenda. The apartment was as clean as it had ever been, fresh towels were in the bathroom, and she'd even cleaned out the 'fridge before going to the deli. The doorbell rang a second time, and she found herself taking one last look around. In the past twenty minutes she'd lit, snuffed, then relit the candles around the room, three times, thinking maybe it was too much, too overtly blatant, just too ... too. She couldn't let the doorbell ring again; this would have to do.

Opening the door she said: "Hi!" instantly thinking she sounded like some character from a 50's sit com greeting her nosy next door neighbor.

Marlene, though, didn't seem to notice. Like some kind of desperate spy with the evil agents hot on her heels, she almost fled into the apartment. She was wearing a scarf draping her face, and relief seemed to shine from her eyes when Sally had closed and locked the door behind them.

"I love your place." Marlene said sounding out of breath. She was clutching a bag in her hand and had her purse wedged up under her arm like a running back on an end run. "Two bedroom?"

"No just one," Sally came back. "Here let me take your things. Come on into the living room."

Marlene set her purse next to the freshly cut flower s atop the table by the door and handed over eh brown paper bag. "I got a nice little Zinfendel. I hope that'll be okay?"

"I'm really not much of a connoisseur," Sally called back heading for the kitchen. "Come on in. Sit down." Once in the safety of the tiny, little kitchen she lost no time opening the bottle and pouring two glasses. She'd had everything positioned on the counter just waiting.

"Is that Enya on the stereo?" Marlene called out.

Sally was having difficulty holding the stems of the wine glasses with one hand and attempting to pick up the tray of cheeses she'd bought at the gourmet shop this morning. "Yes!" she called back. "I hope you don't mind."

"No!" Marlene called out way too loudly just as Sally reentered the room. She dropped her voice. "Anything is fine by me."

Sally placed the tray down first on the coffee table and then handed Marlene her glass. Marlene was sitting on the futon looking much different than the woman who'd been skulking at the door. Sally stood there, holding her glass of wine, without a clue of what to do next.

Marlene patted the fabric. "Take a seat. I hear it's been quite a week for you?"

Sally came around the coffee table settling down on the far corner of the futon. She locked her knees, her elbows pinched together on her lap, the base of her glass gripped by both hands. She took a sip of wine. She couldn't recognize the taste. If it had been cream soda, she probably wouldn't have noticed right now.

"You have no idea," she said swallowing dryly. "People have been calling; the phone never seems to stop ringing." She set her glass down. "Mostly relatives and friends, but a few offers, too."

Marlene smiled and swallowed a little sip for herself. "So I've heard. Any other offers like mine?"

Sally felt that flush of heat rush up her neck and cheeks, exactly what she'd told herself, and told herself she wouldn't do. Ever since she'd called, she'd scolded herself over and over to look at this as a role, or at least an acting experience, something akin to research for a character.

Marlene let her off the hook. She let out with a mighty exhale, blowing up with her bottom lip so that her hair above her eyes wafted up. "I guess with all this success, pretty soon you'll be moving out and getting some place larger, maybe in the valley?"

"Oh wouldn't that be great," Sally said, then again went for her wine. With the second sip, really a gulp, she could finally taste it. "I don't know how long before I could be able to afford something in the valley, but I'm at least going to start getting some new furniture for this place. Some of this stuff I've had since college. I have to apologize."

"Don't apologize about a thing." Marlene's laugh had a quick, sincere spark, just right to ease the mood. "You're young; you're just getting started. Give yourself a couple of years. You'll see. You'll look back on these early days, the days of hamburger instead of steak, a used clunker in the carport instead of a new Mercedes in the driveway, as your fondest of memories. You'll find it tough being a star."

Sally, looking over her glass and couldn't hide what was behind her eyes. The "wanna bet" look she cast back caused Marlene to go for her glass.

It was Sally who had to break the awkward silence. "I love your dress. I think a purple like that suits you; it goes with your green eyes."

"They're not really green," Marlene came back, "contacts. Actually, unless you're faking it, too, we've got the same color of hazel. Hey!" she sat forward a bit. "I won't apologize for one damn thing. I'm an actress. I change my eye color about as often as my hair color." She ran a finger down, twisting a strand, looking at it, then dropped her hand and cupped her right breast. "I've even had these done."

Something about seeing Marlene touch herself set off that flush again. Sally drained her glass.

"Aw come on." Marlene inched a bit closer. "You've had your nose done, haven't you?"

Sally nodded.

"But not your boobs?"

Sally shook her head.

Marlene scooted forward a bit more. "You know Randall had his tush done." She noted Sally's obvious surprise. "No, really! You want to talk about a vain little boy. He spends more time primping in the bathroom than I do. And hell, I can't begin to remember what color his hair was when we met." She leaned in a bit more and ever so quickly touched Sally on the knee. "He even dyes it down there?" That laugh came back, even brighter than before.

"More wine?" Sally asked.

Marlene, withdrawing her hand, held up her glass. "Just bring in the bottle. That's why I got a big one."

Once in the kitchen Sally tried to compose herself. "Come on," she whispered. "Calm down." Still it was almost as though she could feel Marlene's touch lingering on her knee. Picking up the bottle she took one deep breath and then another. "Breathe, that's what the drama coach always said was best for a case of nerves." She closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Something about the breathing reminded her of the private audition she'd done in Max's office that day. Washed over with deju vu, the entire emotion of standing under his office lights, naked, came flooding back; which didn't serve to help her composure one bit. She took a swig straight from the bottle, swallowed, and steeled herself.

Marlene was up, looking at the pictures on the wall when Sally came back in. "This is your boyfriend, right? Cancun, right?"

Sally settled in, forcing herself not to show her anxiety by cramming her body back into the corner of the futon. She didn't need to look up as she refilled the glasses. "Cozumel," she replied. "Mark's kind of a dive nut. That's where he is right now. He and some buddies are down in Belize."

Marlene came strolling back over. "San Pedro?"

Sally was impressed. "How'd you know?"

Marlene came around, picking up her glass. When she bent over, Sally had a view straight down Marlene's neckline. So surprised with herself for looking she almost choked on her piece of cheese.

"Careful there, girl," Marlene said coming around and settling in right next to her on the futon, close, but not exactly touching. "I've done a little diving, myself. That Belize is one hell of a place. I imagine he's partying it up right now, swilling down a bucket of Bellican's, eating lobster, kicking back. Lot's of pretty chiquitas running around down there. You ever get jealous?"

Sally shook her head. "We're not like that. We're kind of open."

Marlene nodded. "Me and Randall, too. I mean," she popped a piece of cheese in her mouth, chasing it with a long drink. "We don't have full blown affairs, skulking around, lying, that kind of thing. But in this business a little extra just seems to happen." She twisted her hips to face Sally. "Like take your scene with Randall. Here we sit. I'm his wife. And, admittedly it was on screen, but I've seen you two kissing, rolling around on a bed together butt naked, and generally having sex. I bet he even propositioned you, and asked you to do a little rehearsing on the side?"

Sally couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"See," Marlene came back, pointing with the toothpick she'd just used to spear another wedge of cheese. "I knew it! He's so predictable. Did you?"

"No!" Sally blurted, shaking her head incredulously.

Marlene talked while she chewed. "But you did it on camera. How many takes did you do, besides that wild first one Randall only sort of told me about... three takes, four?"

"That's different." Sally was feeling defensive. "It was work. It wasn't me; it was my character, Cassie." She couldn't believe she was saying this. She knew full well what had happened on that first take. If what she had done on that bed with Randall was acting, she'd best clear off a spot on the mantle right now for an Oscar. Amazing too, how Marlene seemed to be able to read her. She looked back at the woman next to her, her fake green eyes, her fake blonde hair, hell, her fake tits, and knew for some reason, from Marlene she couldn't hide a thing.

"I apologize." Marlene looked worried, maybe even upset. "We're supposed to be having a pleasant evening, aren't we? Tell you what. How 'bout a shoulder rub as a way for me to say I'm sorry?" She held up her hands, waggling her fingers. "Best hands in town."

"I don't know." Sally was cradling her wine glass in her palm and rubbing the stem between two fingers. "Maybe I'm not up for this."

"You know." Again Marlene sat forward. "Can I tell you the truth?

Sally stared back; then when she saw nothing more was forthcoming she cleared her throat and answered slowly, "what?"

"The reason I was late tonight. You don't really know me yet, but I'm never late. If I have a cast call at 8 o'clock, it's 8 o'clock, no, seven forty-five." Marlene seemed suddenly interested in the small amount of wine in the bottom of her glass, twirling it around like some kind of brandy snifter. "You know, half way here I turned my car around." She looked up, her eyes not so green anymore. "I almost went back home."

"But you're here," Sally said softly.

"That's right," Marlene came back. "I am, aren't I?"

Just like in the audition in Max's office, Sally could hear the clock ticking on the wall. It hit her, a realization. Marlene was brash. She had on those dangly gold earrings while Sally had chosen simple, little diamond studs. Marlene had on that low cut designer dress, while she had chosen velvet slacks and a soft, white cotton blouse with fine lace trim around the neck and puffy, little short sleeves. But Marlene was every bit as afraid right now as she was. She just had a different way of hiding it. The little quiver Sally kept feeling in her tummy all afternoon, Marlene was probably feeling that, too, right now. She'd probably felt it when she turned her car around and headed home, and then surely when she'd changed her mind and turned around again.

"I think a shoulder rub would be just what I need," Sally replied, breaking the silence. "Here, give me a refill. Make it a double."

She handed Marlene her glass and scooted out the coffee table, sitting down between Marlene's feet. She hadn't noticed before but Marlene had on these darling, little gold slippers, like something a dancing girl would wear in an Arabian nights movie. There were little tassels dangling on the ends of the curved up toes. She couldn't help but tweak one, flicking it with her fingers as she settled in.

"I love those shoes, Marlene."

"Call me, Marly." Marlene wiggled her foot and handed Sally her glass over her shoulder. Sally didn't have a clue what Marlene had done with her own glass. Of course, it didn't matter. If she spilled on the futon, what the hell. It'd seen worse.

"I stole them from the wardrobe of a commercial I was in," she said. "I just couldn't resist."

"Do people really do that?" Sally came back, suddenly realizing exactly how naive she must have sounded.

"Grab it while you can," Marlene responded. "That's what I always say. If you don't, somebody else will. That's something you need to learn about this business. I image we're pretty much the same age, but I started as model. I've been around a bit. Randall tells me you went the college route."

"Yes," Sally came back, wondering just how in depth Randall had gone in talking to his wife about her. "I did my four years in purgatory. We did "Antigone" on the mall in front of the dorms, "Harvey," in the small theatre. My senior production was: "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum." I was a slave, sold for sex."

"Lucky you," Marlene came back "Now sit back and let me do my thing."

Sally settled in. The wine was doing its job. The music was soft, a Celtic melody, one of her favorites. The feel of Marlene's hands kneading her shoulders at the base of her neck was so soft, so gentle. She'd never had a shoulder rub from a woman and only rarely from a man. Maybe it was more than just the wine that was getting to her, but she did feel warm all over. She lay back, the self consciousness dissolving little by little as they talked and talked about the things girls always want to talk about when at last they can relax and be themselves. And for Sally it was an education too, as Marlene seemed to know just about everyone in the business and what they were all up to.

"You are a tense one," Marlene said, pushing harder. "Do you work out?"