Diane had whispered, “Love you, too” to Tom as she hung up.  She sneaked a look at Jules who was gazing at the pocket garden, where a couple of butterflies had alighted on one of the leaves.  A small smile played on those ruby-red lips.

“Are you in love?” Jules had asked, out of the blue.

Surprised, Diane didn’t answer immediately.  Then the blonde admitted slowly, “I am not in love.”

Jules turned to give her a teasing smile, “But open to persuasion.”

Diane nodded.  They fell quiet again as Shane came over to toss Diane’s hair from the back, apparently still deciding what cut to give the blonde this time.  Shane liked that Diane was relaxed about her hairstyle, and didn’t mind experimental cuts.  Shane smiled ruefully.  The blonde was so beautiful and her hair so lustrous that it had always been easy to cut and style her – she could take any style, really, and leave the salon smokin’.  Inevitably, some girl would come into the salon asking Shane for the same cut as Diane Wyeth’s, thinking that the same thing could be done for her as had been done for Diane.  Umm… no.

As Shane continued to toss Diane’s hair she asked casually, “East or west, where’s the best for romancing?”

Diane shook her head.  Shane.  Shane.  She’d probably found some eager young ingénue again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Diane and Bette were starting on their main courses, when Diane picked up on her story, describing the evening scene in the sculpture garden at the MoMA, where she and Jules had gone to on their third (“I wouldn’t call them dates, exactly.  Maybe outings.”) outing.  As they gazed at an exhibit of erotic sculpture, she and Jules had been talking about the differences between being with a friend.  And being with a lover.

Diane mused, “With a friend I can smile.  But with a lover I could hold my head back. I could really laugh, really laugh.”

She bit her lower lip, as it began to tremble slightly, as she recalled the previous night’s outing, when she and Jules had wandered into a gay bar.  “Thank you.  You took me dancing across the floor.  Cheek to cheek.”

She and Jules had exchanged a tender first kiss as they danced.  “With a lover, I could really move, really dance,” Diane whispered, remembering how they had danced together.