In the Year of the Cat (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

56. On My Toes

(Sal here.  Note the asterisk in the third paragraph.  If you are confused, see the one shot entitled "Mysterious Ways."  There is more information found there to clear it.  I hope. ;) )

It was close to seven when I returned to Stafford Terrace, the parcel containing Freddie's jade cats in one hand and a small box of Godiva chocolate in the other.  My heart hung heavy within me, heavier than it had before I had gone to Westminster that afternoon. 

I had thought that speaking to the vicar at the cathedral, the one who had heard my confession after last Sunday's Mass (and kind of had to walk me through proper Catholic procedure of confessing one's sins), would give me a little peace of mind.  I told him what had happened the night before, hoping he could help me sort out my head.*

But with one sentence, one question, Father Timothy- I believe that was his name, either that or Thomas- brought everything into unpleasantly realistic perspective: "You need help choosing between pursuing a successful, healthy future, or maintaining as this man's mistress?"

My own dear Baptist pastor isn't that blunt.  But the vicar still had a point.

Try though I might to shy away from the idea, that's what it boiled down to, should I choose to stay: I would be resigning myself to be nothing more than Freddie's mistress.  For if Mary, the love of his life, couldn't fully capture his heart or his fidelity, what were the odds he would even think of committing himself to me? 

I attempted to cheer myself up.  What are the odds of anything that's happened?  I tried to smile.  Maybe, maybe things will be different now.  He said he loves me-

"I have love enough for all of you."  Minsy's words resounded in my head, ruthlessly mocking me.  Was that really what he'd said?  There had to be more at play there.  And yet...

As I opened the front door, Oscar rose from the sofa and wound himself about my ankles as was his habit.  I knelt to stroke his fur, nudging the door closed with my foot.  Oscar rolled onto his back, asking for a belly rub, front paws folded over and resting against his white chest.  His fur tickled my nose enough to start a sneeze or two, but nothing more.  Setting my gifts down, I ran my hand back and forth over his belly and stroked Tiffany's spotted coat when she too padded over to greet me.  Tom was still asleep.  As usual.

"I have love enough for all of you," I repeated, more to myself than to the cats.  "I have love for every single one of you, in varying degrees.  Everyone gets a piece of the pie.  The piece I give Oscar might be bigger than yours, Tom, but hey, at least you get a piece at all, right?  Lucky you."

I admit it.  Where love is concerned, I'm pretty selfish.  I want to be the only one giving love to my love, and I want to be the only one receiving theirs.  I'm funny that way.  To me, love is not a pie, but a cycle, a give and take cycle between two people.  I don't believe in open marriages, or open romances.  Love is such a precious thing that can be beyond wonderful and beyond horrible at the same time, too precious to be downplayed, cheapened, or squandered- which was why I was so cautious about falling into it at all.  You may see it differently.  Maybe I shouldn't see it that way, maybe I've got it wrong.  They don't spend nearly enough time on the subject of love at the university, it's too complex for an hour-long lecture three days a week, so I could very well have it wrong.  But that's how I see it regardless.

With a sigh, I stood back up.  I set the gifts on the piano, about to search for a ribbon to tie around the wrapped box containing Yin and Yang.  But first, I looked down at the ivory keys.  For a moment I let myself think on how much more beautiful they were when Freddie's hands were stretched across them, coaxing that otherworldly music from this quiet, polished grand.