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Heartbeats (chapter 13)

"So, how was it?" Hannah asks while they wait for a taxi. They got Rachel's address to send her copies of their books, and made her promise once again that she'll keep quiet until they are ready to share the news with the world.
"How was what?" Grace asks, kicking a pebble, distracted.
"Your first coming out."
"Oh. Technically... it wasn't the first. Nor the second, for that matter."
"Wait, what?"
"I told Salah - remember the guy you wanted to punch last night?"
Hannah nods. And waits.
"And... Mamrie." The name is barely audible, but Hannah catches it.
"You what?" Hannah squeaks.
"But I think she forgot... we were both pretty drunk. I was pretending to be drunker than I was, actually. I just needed to get it off my chest, and she was asking a lot of questions, so... The next day I pretended I blacked out, and she never mentioned anything. Does that count?"
Hannah remains silent, thinking - Grace can tell from the forehead butt. Their taxi comes, and they get in. Hannah is still thinking.
Then, she asks: "Grace... why did you pick Paris, really? I don't remember you mentioning Paris that much..."
"Of course I did" she replies, defensively.
"Grace, think about it. When did you first think of Paris for your bachelorette party?"
"I guess..." but Grace can't pinpoint the exact moment. It was always Paris. She's been talking about Paris with Mamrie for months, before the redhead volunteered to organise the whole thing. "I don't know. I remember Mamrie was talking about it over the summer..."
Hannah nods, looking at her meaningfully.
Grace watches her nodding, and nodding, until she realises what she's implying.
"So you think Mamrie forgot you came out to her" Hannah checks again.
"Mh... yes?" Grace replies, unsure.
"Mamrie. Forgot." Hannah insists, "because she was drunk."
Grace bites her lip, pulling an innocent face.
"No?"
"Grace..."
"So she knew about me..." Grace says, pensive, "and she knew about you. Do you think..."
"I do think" Hannah confirms.
They remain silent for a few seconds. They look at the road, then at each other then back at the road. Hannah smiles a little, incredulous. Grace giggles. And then they just laugh - Grace throws her head against the headrest, and Hannah bends over, hitting the seat with her fist. The taxi driver politely ignores them.
"Oh my God" Grace says, breathlessly "we're so stupid!"
"We are" Hannah confirms, and adds: "and we have the best best friend ever."
- - -
There are a few things Grace learns in the next couple of days, and none of them is about Paris.
To start, she learns holding hands with someone tiny and possessive can be a challenge. Intertwining fingers is an exercise in patience, and she needs to constantly remind Hannah her hand can be held softly. Now every time she feels her blood not quite reaching the tips of her digits, she whispers "I'm not going anywhere" in her ear, and that seems to work.
Then she learns that checking out earlier is not so easy if you're not the one who booked the room. Yet, she still prefers the intimacy of Madame Therese's, so they end up keeping both rooms, and eventually take advantage of the jacuzzi at what Grace's renamed 'Mamrie's Grand Hotel'. She also learns that water is not always a bitch, and there's fun to be had in showers and bathtubs, as well as pretty much on any available surface.
She learns that 'fuck me right on this table, babe' is, in fact, a sentence that can unironically come out of her lips, given the right context.
She learns her way through Hannah's fears, she learns her skin by heart.
Until it's time to go.
- - -
Paris shines under an orange sun, its streets wet after a full day of rain. The sky is clear, and the temperature is mild. It's an unusual November in France - Hannah reads it on a newsstand behind Grace while they're sitting outside a cafe.
"Are you upset we didn't get to see Paris at all?" she asks.
"You know what?" Grace is looking at the red wine in her glass, pensive "I realised I never cared much about Paris."
Hannah nearly spits out her drink, and Grace continues "It was Mamrie all along! That woman managed to brainwash me into thinking it was always my dream destination!"
"Yeah, she's good at that" Hannah replies.
They sigh.
Talking about Mamrie reminds them that tomorrow they will board onto a plane and fly back to Los Angeles, where there's an engagement and a fiancé's heart to break, two families to disappoint, and all sorts of refunds to request.
"It's pretty here, though" Grace comments, as the sun slowly colours the Seine and the air still smells of rain, "it's sort of-"
"perfect." Hannah ends her sentence, and leans on the backrest of her chair.
"Yeah" Grace chuckles "sometimes I think Mamrie can control the weather because fucking look at this!"
"Hey girls!"
"Salah" Grace greets the slender man who just joined them, "I'm so happy you made it!"
"How's your eye, dude?" Hannah asks, standing up to place two kisses on his cheeks.
"Better" he replies, smiling, "how's the asshole?"
"W-what..." Hannah asks, confused, and blushes becasue it was one time and how the hell does he know anyway?
She turns to Grace for an explanation, but finds she bursted into a hysterical laugh. She hurries to remind Hannah that that's how she introduced herself to him when they met, but the redness doesn't leave her cheeks for a long while.
And Grace does that thing - the thing where she moves the tip of her fingers so eloquently over Hannah's palm, yet keeps chatting to Salah, effortlessly.  Hannah remembers her words - 'I spent most of my life hiding my emotions' - and wonders if she'll ever be able to decode her. Mamrie can, she'll learn too.
She's worried about how high-pitched her own voice would sound if she had to answer any questions right now, and that's why she's so grateful she has to stand up to greet the man walking leisurely towards them, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette, and tapping his umbrella on the sidewalk.
"Serge! So happy to see you, dude." she squeaks, despite her efforts.
"Hello, my dear" he lifts his hat and smoothes his moustache, then turns and adds: "and you must be Grace."
He bends to kiss her hand before she has the chance to stand up, and Grace thinks 'This is him. This is the guy who made Hannah tell me she loved me' - unsure whether she should be grateful or hate him. That was a pretty shitty day after all.
"How about Danielle?" Hannah asks after Serge and Salah introduce themselves.
"Back to her wife" he says with a sigh, and takes another puff of his cigarette.
And Hannah thinks next time she feels like filling the blanks, she probably should just not do it.
- - -
The mild afternoon turned into a lively evening along the riverside, and Paris enjoyed the clear sky after two solid days of rain. Then, Salah returned to his flat in Saint-Laurent, and Serge walked them back to Madame Therese's hotel: he will take a train to Pontoise in two days.
Hannah and Grace went back to room 103 and packed their suitcases.
It's different now, as they lay on the unmade bed, quietly. It feels, Grace thinks, like standing before a door planted in the middle of nowhere. The limit between the two sides is perfectly fictional, yet she has to take a step.
Everything will change, yet nothing will.
Will Matt be waiting for her at the airport?
'Of course he will. He has no idea.'
"Mamrie called" Hannah says, out of the blue, "while you were showering. She said she'll be at the airport too. With..."
"Matt. You can say his name."
"I'd rather not."
Grace turns to look at her, confused.
"It's just... I tried to like him, ok? I really tried" Hannah explains, "he's a super nice guy and stuff, but... the truth is I hated him for a very long time. It doesn't just go away."
"He doesn't deserve it, though" Grace objects.
"Hey, I'm not saying I'm proud of myself. I'm working on it."
"Alright, you do that" Grace says, and places a soft kiss on Hannah's lips "Did Mamrie mentioned anything about... "
"Not a word" Hannah replies "I'm starting to think our conspiracy theory is completely unfounded."
They stare at the ceiling in silence, Hannah resting her head on the hollow of Grace's shoulder. She thinks it's been nice to imagine they were part of someone else's plan, that it was not entirely their fault. But now it's time to face the fact she turned her best friend into a cheater, and herself into a homewrecker.
She presses her ear on the woman's chest.
One thump. Two thumps. Three thumps. Four thumps.
Regular, calm.
It's funny how Hannah suddenly remembers smaller animals have a faster heartbeat. That must be the reason hers seems to be racing compared to Grace's. And the more she focuses on her own, the more it speeds up. It pulses in her throat, behind her eyelids, on her digits - if she joins her thumb and index she can feel the blood pressing agains the tips, as if it were looking for a shortcut to reach the other vessels.
And maybe Grace's one is feeling it, and its rhythm starts to pick up. Or maybe Grace is starting to feel uncomfortable under her weight. Hannah feels a leg moving underneath her, then a sniff above her head, and the heartbeat in her ear doubling its speed. A quiver shakes her.
"Babe..." Hannah pushes herself up, "are you..."
Another sniff tell her that yes, Grace is crying.
Hannah is kind of relieved. Grace has been too cool and smiley, too eager to have sex, too fast to change the subject every time the conversation steered towards an idea of a future.
But now it's time.
Hannah let's her cry, and crumples Grace's shirt inside her fist. She hates feeling so powerless, yet this problem is not hers to solve. All she can do is be there when the sobs calm, and Grace blows her nose, muttering a half-hearted 'sorry'.
"Am I a horrible person?" Grace finally asks.
"No!" Hannah replies, immediately, "How... why would you say something like that?"
"Well it's my fault isn't it? It's not like I didn't know." Grace continues: "I made a decision to get married and live a quiet heterosexual life despite my feelings for you, and then I wasn't able to go though with it. And I fucked everything up."
"Wait, are you..." Hannah looks away and swallows, "are you saying you'd prefer nothing happened? Because that... fucking hurts, thank you very much."
Grace bites her tongue, and smiles, remembering Hannah's tendency to pick the worst of two interpretations. She gently slaps the girl's head.
"What I'm saying" she explains, calmly, "is that I shouldn't have waited so long."
There's a moment of silence, then Hannah simply says: "Oh."
"I shouldn't have said yes to him" Grace adds "I wasn't sure. At all."
"Well, we all make mistakes" Hannah tries to comfort her.
"Yeah? What was yours?"
Hannah takes a few seconds to think, and then says: "I never gave you up."