Juliana is taking her sister’s place in Les Orchestrations, the all-women orchestra in Washington, DC. She is out and proud, but she harbors a dark secret.
Alejandra is in the closet. Receiving monetary support from her homophobic family, she shies away from anything having to do with attraction to other women. However, her closet wasn’t ready for the attraction she feels to Juliana.
As these two struggle through family drama, hurled paint, and prejudices of all kinds, their need for each other grows. But is it strong enough to sustain them?
When Juliana emerged from the church where the orchestra held rehearsal most days, it was absolutely pouring. It had been a dry June so far but apparently the weather folks had been right when they predicted rain today. She’d taken it seriously, despite the likelihood of it being another false alarm because there was nothing worse than having to shiver in the rain as she hurried from one place to another to catch her transportation back to Maryland.
She tucked her waterproof music portfolio under her arm for safekeeping and hugged her bassoon, also safe in a watertight case, to her chest. She hadn’t brought the backpack today because Sam had spilled jelly on it and it was currently getting washed. She began to cross the parking lot as most of the other women got into cars or vans, or, in one case, a Hummer that made Juliana glad she did her part to help the planet by taking public transportation.
“Juliana? Do you want a ride?”
She glanced to her left and saw the Hispanic woman, Alejandra, Sophie had called her, standing outside her little car. She wasn’t dressed for the weather and she was getting soaked. If she’d been wearing a lighter colored shirt, her bra might have showed.
Juliana crossed to her. “Where’s your raincoat? Or at least your umbrella?”
Alejandra laughed. It was a musical sound, wry and low. “This isn’t real rain. You should see what it’s like during hurricane season back home. Do you want a ride?”
Juliana paused as she glanced into the sedan via the back window. “Isn’t it, well, I mean you have a lot of instruments. If I came too, it would be crowded.” She spotted two African drums, one of which she thought was a small conga. These were nestled next to a box stuffed with rhythm sticks. And there were at least three more instruments back there. Plus what looked like a small library’s worth of binders labeled with different composer’s’ names.
Alejandra saw her looking and giggled as she had when she couldn’t quite make herself say small dick earlier. “It’s not as crowded as it looks. Just give me two minutes.”
“Do you want help?”
“Just climb in front and hold your bassoon for un momento.”
Juliana assumed the Spanish meant some short amount of time. She climbed in, and found that she was barely able to squeeze her legs in between the seat and the dash. She managed to get both her instrument and the music in but it was impossible to close the door, let alone buckle her seatbelt.
But Alejandra was as good as her word. After about ninety seconds, she poked her head into the driver’s side and said, “You can push your seat back now. About six inches.”
Juliana did so and immediately felt much better. “Where did you put it all?” she asked, glancing into the back, half-cleaned-off seat.
Alejandra got in. “I need to have some secrets.” She winked.
