Sidechain

Vivian slapped the space bar, to start recording, and counted herself in. She certainly didn't need a fourth track for the bridge, but she'd recently become enamored with the way that multi-tracking filled out the sound. The little variations between one track and the next could be accentuated or muted, as she saw fit, and it made some of the bits sound really grand.

In the back of her head, she made a mental note that a variation on the bridge transposed into the harmonic minor would sound dope, and banked it for her backburner project.

She wasn't sure how she felt about her use of 'dope', even in her internal monologue, but figured that was the place to work those sorts of things out rather than testing out phrases in front of others. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.

She struck the last chord with more force than she'd intended, and immediately went to see how it sounded in the playback. That one take certainly stood out, so she messed around with the levels for a while until it was just right.

Until it was perfect.

She had a couple more sections to work on, re-recording the acoustic bass intro to the final track to get the feel more in line with the rest of it and a backing vocal line for the title track, but she was ahead of schedule. She could be done for the day, which was good, because she was pretty sure she'd heard the front door.

She put her guitar back on its stand, turned off this and that and plodded up the steps out of their basement to find Delia in the kitchen, smirking and unpacking a bag of groceries. Vivian moved right up behind her, and slid her arms around Delia's middle.

"I'm trying to put the food away!" her guiding star protested, even as she leaned back into Vivian's arms.

"I almost finished The Void today," she said, in between kisses along Delia's shoulder.

"Which one is that?"

Another kiss. "It's the one"—another kiss—"about the guy out in space. Trapped in orbit around a dying star." Another kiss, moving toward the back of the neck. "And then he gets away, but he feels it calling to him."

"I didn't realize it was a whole concept album," Delia purred, and as she leaned back she laid her hands over Vivian's and drew them tighter around her. "That's the one where you talk about him like he's a sailor at sea, right? The lyrics, I mean. Not you-you."

"Will you listen to it tomorrow?" Kiss. "When it's done?"

Delia turned around, and beamed up at her. Freckles by the thousands. Eyes that sparkled almost as much as her smile. Vivian made a mental note to use all of that for future lyrics.

"Baby," she said, hands sliding up toward Vivian's shoulders, "I will listen to anything you make after I put away the groceries." And then she booped Vivian's nose.

Vivian made a sound in her throat and reluctantly let go. Delia took the spinach and cheese, and went to the refrigerator while Vivian dug deeper into the bag and pulled out a big hunk of sourdough bread. "What's this for?" she asked.

Delia's eyes lit up. "I'm making soup tomorrow, and I thought maybe we could cut that in half and make bread bowls out of it!"

"Yes please," she replied, and then added an emphatic head nod when she realized that neither her expression nor her tone were conveying how excited she was to have a sourdough bread bowl. "That sounds amazing."

Delia stared at her for a moment, and chewed on her lip. It was an adorable trait that belied churning thoughts. As far as Vivian knew, Delia had no idea how easy she was to read sometimes. She wore it all right on the surface, which was so like Vivian and yet so dissimilar.

As the lip chewing continued, Vivian started to get a clearer picture of what Delia was thinking. Then, as if to punctuate those thoughts, Delia picked up the rest of the bag of groceries and threw the whole thing in the fridge.

"You look really good in those scrubs," Vivian said, as she followed her girlfriend up the stairs. Delia reached back and grabbed her ass as she climbed, which was exactly what Vivian had been focusing on. That made her think, very briefly, that she was probably just as transparent to Delia as Delia was to her. Which felt good.

They still called it their new house but they'd been moved in for two years, and the last box had been fully unpacked almost a full year prior. It still had new house smell. There were rooms they weren't sure what to do with, which had been turned into guest bedrooms for the meantime. Vivian had once suggested breaking each of them in, just to properly baptize them, but Delia had old fashioned notions about where sex should happen that Vivian was perfectly happy to go along with.

Her girlfriend turned around, as she often did at the top of the steps, and took Vivian's hands. This part was almost ritual. Delia had very soft hands, and Vivian loved that. Of course, Vivian's hands were rough and calloused by comparison. She wasn't religious about moisturizing. Delia led her into the bedroom, walking backwards, arms crossed at the wrist. Smile like a May morning.

Vivian went toward the bed first, stripping out of her shirt and jeans while Delia went into the bathroom. Her girlfriend always wanted to get freshened up right before sex, which Vivian had never quite understood but had long stopped trying to fight. Delia would come out when Delia was ready, and she would look like a million bucks when she did.

And she did.

Vivian was curled up on her side, one arm propping up her head, when her girlfriend emerged, and the sight filled her stomach with butterflies. It always did. Delia was a mass of freckles, with the exception of the sides of her hips and some parts of her legs. She was in amazing shape, which made complete sense for someone who was on their feet all day, taking fifteen thousand steps like it was nothing.

She prowled across the floor, with a very different gait from the way she normally moved. Delia normally strode everywhere, beaming all the while, but in the bedroom it was different. Languorous. Unhurried. When she moved barefoot, the definition in her legs was impossible to miss. When she crawled onto the bed, she moved past Vivian, just a little, and then spun around to lay the other way. With her head nestled gently against Vivian's thigh. And then, the more she curled in on herself, her own thighs pressed gently against the top of Vivian's head.

That first kiss was slow in coming. They would often just lay there against each other, gently caressing each other's faces. She liked to count freckles, and Delia had enough on her face alone to keep Vivian busy for hours. There was something about the intimacy they created, laying like that, banked in by the other and not really being able to see over the other's side, that made Vivian feel held. Safe.

The world became very small.

When they finally kissed, it was so different. Each of them held the other's head, upside down to each other, so that their tongues slid past and over. She couldn't see Delia's eyes, but she could feel the way Delia's fingers both cradled and squeezed along her scalp. She held Delia's head like a bird's egg, precious and fragile, as her tongue slid deeper and deeper.

Delia broke the kiss first. She always did. Always, always, always. She broke the kiss and craned her head back, tongue lashing out at Vivian's nipple. Vivian happily obliged her, gathering her breast in the webbing of her hand and squeezing to push out the nipple. Her breasts were not large, but regular, healthier eating, better exercise, and a 100% reduction in cocaine had helped her get back to a body weight more like what she'd had in high school.

She could almost fill out some of her older bras again, and had actually bought her first new bra that wasn't a sports bra in over ten years. They looked healthy. She looked healthy.

Delia, on the other hand, had no boobs. None. It didn't matter if she was flat on her back or on hands and knees, there was nothing to find: nothing, except for two of the most delicious nipples Vivian had ever seen. The areolae were small, but the bud would harden and swell. Big and round, like cherry tomatoes. Nearly three quarters of an inch long, when she was turned on.

They were perfect. Perfect to fondle, perfect to play with, and perfect to suckle, which Vivian did. Often. They were incredible to have in her mouth. They stiffened, and they twitched, and they were so reactive, and sensitive, and Delia made the most amazing little sound if she could get her teeth on them just right.

This, of course, incited retaliation. Delia would suck in hard, drawing most of Vivian's breast into her mouth, and then keep right on sucking. It felt just like a vacuum tube, pulling on her skin, except that there was a tongue in the middle of it feathering her constantly. Non-stop. It was enough to drive her crazy.

So she took the next step, which she always did. Always always always. She loved Delia's nipples dearly, and would return to them later, but there was a level of being turned on that she could reach when Delia was latched onto her nipple that would drive Vivian into a kind of cross-eyed haze, and all she could think about was reciprocating.

She would get her arm and head in between Delia's thighs, and make space for herself to work. Back of the knee in her armpit. She was taller. Had a longer neck. She could reach.

Delia had the most incredible pussy. It was amazing. She had very puffy outer labia, almost no inner labia, and a long hooded clit that ran the entire length of her cleft. Best of all, it was the kind of sensitive that begged for a tongue. Vivian had tried everything—fingers, toes, toys, and one time even her own clit—but nothing beat what she could do with her tongue.

Delia would buck and writhe, fighting her as much as pushing her away, before she would finally get her leg hooked along the back of Vivian's shoulders and squeeze.

Neither of them kept their heads past this point. They never did. Delia would slip between her thighs, doing the same, until Vivian's knee rested against Delia's waist. They mirrored each other in a writhing tangle of limbs and tongues. Curled around each other. Pushing and pulling. Looping feedback that started in her own clit, worked its way in through her quivering body, and found its way out as a long, warbling moan. Faster and faster, whipping around and around between them, until one or the other completely lost control.

This time, Vivian was very invested in not finishing first, so she reached for her secret weapon. She squirmed, getting an arm free with the right angle, and sank two fingers deep inside of her girlfriend, swirling and pawing gently at the sides. It was hard to focus on such small motions in her fingers when there was so much happening to her own clit, but she clung to her purpose. Once those fingers were sufficiently wetted, she withdrew them and slid them a little further back. Delia had amazing legs, and an ass that absolutely did not quit, and buried between those two incredible orbs of muscle was Delia's launch button.

Delia did not acknowledge, nor had she ever, that this was true. She had decidedly proper ideas about what was and was not an erogenous zone, and if asked outside of sex she would insist that it was not something she liked very much. This was a lie.

Two fingers if Vivian only planned to probe outer limits, pushing and teasing without actually breaking through. One finger if Vivian wanted to go deeper. Guaranteed full-throated orgasm either way.

It was as ever. Two fingers that pushed, playing with the outer ring without penetrating the inner. More than enough to push Delia over the edge. She pinned Vivian between her legs, feet coming together for leverage, and squeezed her like a Bond villain.

Vivian was proud that she could take that now. Proud that she could handle Delia. Sex with her girlfriend was like full contact grappling, and Vivian hadn't been able to do that when they'd first gotten together. She'd still had a barely concealed limp, and nowhere near the muscle stamina or lung capacity to keep up. Delia didn't let on that this was her thing until they'd been together for almost a year, during which time their sex had been much more tame. Still good, and incredibly hot, but not nearly so combative and furious.

It had taken a while, and Delia had introduced bits and pieces of it slowly, over time, but Vivian loved every part of it.

As Delia came down, and rolled flat onto her back, Vivian rolled with her to claim her prize. She sat back on her heels, to sit on Delia's face, and sighed happily. Reaching down to take both of Delia's nipples between her fingers, and twisting them like old time-y radio dials until the tuning and volume was just right.

When she finally crawled back down onto the bed, to lay breathless alongside Delia, to stare at each other through tangled and matted hairs, hers as black as a raven and Delia's a light chestnut, Vivian felt content in a way she didn't understand, didn't interrogate, and couldn't verbalize.

Best of all, though, was the way Delia looked at her.

"I got a smile out of you!" Delia whispered, excitedly, and reached over to trace her finger out from the corner of Vivian's eyes. "Right there! Look at that! Are you happy?"

Vivian wanted to say yes, but found her throat was very tight. Almost like she wanted to cry. Instead, she nodded softly. Which prompted Delia to cry. Which broke the flood gates and prompted Vivian to cry anyway. Which prompted them to move together, even closer in bed, and completely entangle themselves beneath the sheets.

It would have been good if the answer was a solid and resolute yes. It wasn't. She didn't know why, which was why she didn't say anything at all.

***

"Alright," Kevin said, rolling his shoulders easily. "Ell is out. Viv, let's go."

Vivian sat up, blinking with almost exaggerated severity. "Go where now?"

"I'm fuckin' famished. Let's go get some tacos."

"Yeah!" She turned and thumped the back of her hand on Lucia's shoulder, but Lucia didn't move. "Luc, come on."

"She's out!" Kevin said, laughing. "I just said that. Maybe if she's lucky we'll bring her back a taco."

"Oh I'll bring her back a taco alright," Vivian said, giving her unconscious friend an arch look.

Kevin just laughed, and slapped the molding around the doorframe as they exited her apartment chanting, "Tacos! Tacos! Tacos!"

***

"Vivian!"

"Hey," Vivian said, into her phone, as she sat at the bus stop.

"I was just looking at your reports."

"Good," she said, leaning to see if the bus that had just turned onto the street four blocks down was hers. "Did you get the ones from yesterday too? Sometimes I can't tell if it went through when I'm doing it through my phone."

"Mmm." Rhonda wasn't her boss, per se, but worked at St. Vincent's Hospital and coordinated with home health aides like herself to keep track of various patients. "No change for Mrs. Sutter."

"I didn't hear her coughing at all. Seems like the bronchitis is clearing up, so she's up and doing things herself. I'll see her again Thursday, but I think she's probably gonna reach out to you and dial back on the help."

Rhonda chuckled. "You wanna bet?"

Vivian froze, and blinked. "What? No. I just... I was reading up on COPD and I thought I saw that hers will go away and come back later in the year. Or next year? Chronic Bronchitis, right?"

"You read up? Or, you asked Delia about it?"

"I didn't think I could do that," Vivian said, narrowing her eyes. "Or, no. That's not it. I didn't think I could ask about it without bringing up Mrs. Sutter specifically, and I don't know where the line is about sharing patient information."

"Delia is smart, and she knows her shit. Talk to her about how to talk about conditions without patient specifics. She can help you navigate that."

"Okay."

"Seriously, though, don't count on Mrs. Sutter reducing your visits. She doesn't have a lot of family that lives close by. Last time she checked in, she mentioned you three times. I think she likes having you stop by regularly."

This surprised Vivian, and, as with all things that surprised her, Vivian did not know how to respond. Eventually, after a long and quiet beat, she said, "Oh."

"That was yesterday," Rhonda said, slowly. "How about today?"

"Mr. Acheson seemed worse. Weaker. Like, even since last Friday. Felt like he was leaning on me more when I was helping him get up and down out of his chair. When he was getting in and out of the shower."

"How was his mental state?"

"He lost track of a cup of coffee he'd made. Left it on the counter. He seemed upset that he'd forgotten it. Mostly, he seemed like himself. Talked a lot about his niece having her first girl, and there was a card on the counter. The delivery was over the weekend, so he was, like, current with events, or the progress of things, I think?"

"Lucid is good."

"Yeah, I didn't expect him to be getting better, but he seemed sharper than I've seen yet."

Rhonda made a sound that Vivian wasn't sure how to interpret, until she added, "No, he's just on some different meds. When you first started seein' him, he was only at stage III, so he was taking stuff to try to fight it. Now he's just on terminal care stuff. His quality of life will go up for a while, but, like you said, he'll get weaker."

"Ahh," she said, head rolling back behind her neck. "Stacy sent me an email to let me know about the meds change, but I don't think I realized what it meant."

"Don't beat yourself up. You're new, but you're doing good. You're absorbing a lot, you're asking the right questions, and all the patients seem pretty keen on you. That's good."

"Thank you," Vivian said softly. "I'm trying. I don't know how much Delia putting in a good word for me will, like, reflect back on her? I'm trying."

"Trust me, Viv. If you wanted it, I would throw you even more work. I've got two right now that would be perfect for you. Twice a week, couple hours."

"I appreciate it, thank you, but—"

"I know, I know. You've got other things going on. I get that. Do your hustle. I just want you to know that we're happy with what we're hearing."

"Okay," Vivian said, nodding enthusiastically, and then, again with a bit more calm, "Okay."

"You don't have anyone tomorrow, right?"

"Not 'til Thursday."

"Alright," Rhonda said, and it sounded like she was smiling. "I'll talk to you then."

Vivian hung up, put her hands in her lap, and stared down at her phone. More so than most days, she was glad for the forty-five minute bus ride. It would give her some time to decompress before seeing Tiffany for her lesson.

***

"—and down the East coast this time."

"Oh shit," Vivian said, surprised in that way that only someone very inebriated could be by news that wasn't all that shocking. "We've never toured that far."

"This is the one," Kevin said, staring straight ahead as much as he was focusing on the future ahead of them. "I can feel it. Poor Man's Bluff is gonna be our Nevermind. I've got a line on a guy at Electra. We're gonna hit Atlanta, then I've been talking to some clubs up and down Florida. Beach shows, Viv. That's how we do it."

Vivian saw the headlights coming. She was sitting partially sideways, toward the driver's seat, and immediately knew the trajectory of them. The car behind those headlights would be crossing through the intersection at the same time they would be. She never saw which of them had the right of way. At that point, it didn't matter.

She laughed. It was hysterical.

***

Vivian lurched, her equilibrium in pure riot. She'd been upright—she was sure she'd been standing... sitting maybe?—and then was immediately on her back, and it had happened in the span of the blink of an eye. It took her another second to realize Delia had both hands on her, and was shaking her.