Chapter 3
MARCH: JULIETTE & KATARINA
The snow was falling in large, heavy flakes, and she knew she’d have to heed Juliette’s rather transparent hints to go back to the hotel.
Who thought snow in March would be such an enticing thing?
Here she was, ducking between flower stalls, hastily covered by the enterprising vendors, and trying not to spill her quickly cooling off candied almonds wrapped carefully in a newspaper cone.
Behind her, the Viru Gates of Tallinn’s Old Town stood sentry over the winter landscape.
She turned and for a moment, the stone walls looked like gentle giants, protecting her, her peace, her love. Her heritage.
As she glanced forward, where her wife was trembling in a woefully unsuitable peacoat, Katarina hastened her steps towards Juliette. The gates had stood for over half a millennium, and they would keep vigil for longer still. She was needed elsewhere.
“Do not tell me “I told you so!””
Juliette’s voice was husky, barely recovered from her recent bronchitis, and Katarina felt her heart stutter with love and compassion for her poor darling. As she took the frozen hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, Juliette huffed out a breath.
“You really can say it, you know. I won’t be resentful.” The pout was both adorable and sexy.
Katarina licked her lips and lifted Juliette’s knuckles to her mouth, blowing warm air on them before placing a series of gentle kisses on the fingertips.
Around them nobody yelled, nor hurled abuse, nor gave them a second glance.
Katarina wondered if it was the snow? Or maybe the kerfuffle of the flower market getting hastily salvaged from the cold?
Or being queer in this country was no longer a big deal?
In her soul, she knew it was the latter assumption.
“What has you pensive, my love?” Juliette lifted her chin tenderly away from her hand and then wiped a few snowflakes from her brow.
“Nothing, darling. And everything.” The uncertainty in her own tone unsettled her further. “This city always gets me in a mood.”
“And what mood would that be?” The wondrous amber eyes held so much love and Katarina exhaled.
“Restless, maybe?” She tucked Juliette’s arm under her own, and allowed her steps to guide them towards their hotel. The snow was more sleet now, and the cold was getting under her own coat, even if it was much warmer than the stylish choice her wife had made for herself.
“The ceremony last night was beautiful, I thought?” The careful way Juliette posited the question told its own story to Katarina. It meant Juliette had been worried, hid her worry from her, and then, when Katarina didn’t dispel the anxiety, chose to tread carefully around the issue.
And Katarina knew she should’ve said something.
After all, their entire presence in Estonia, her country of birth, was for this one reason: Katarina Vyatka-Sorel had been awarded the highest distinction a civilian could receive, the Order of the National Coat of Arms, for her service to the arts.
The blue-ribboned medal now lay in a pristine satin box in their hotel safe.
It had been a beautiful ceremony. And yet, even twenty-four hours later, Katarina couldn’t settle.
Couldn’t properly categorize it. Couldn’t begin to process her feelings about the fact that the little girl who was once locked away in an orphanage after her father was forcibly institutionalized and eventually driven mad, was now one of the few people in possession of the blue-ribboned hero’s medal. First class.
She kept looking for things to be upset about, and she knew Juliette was getting some of her resentfulness by osmosis.
Like wondering why nobody was heckling them in the street for the public displays of affection.
She knew she was entirely unfair to the good people of Tallinn, who, by and large, had been absolutely delightful.
And yet, everything around her just made her wary and unsettled and regretful.
“This city makes me remember all my regrets.”
She wasn’t sure she’d said the words out loud, but Juliette’s grip on her forearm tightened and she felt propped up.
She wasn’t alone, and despite her voicing a rather momentous truth, the person next to her, the one person who mattered, once again proved to know her, to understand her, to hear her silence and let her speak in her own time and on her own terms.
Katarina held her breath, then released it in a large plume of vapor. More smoke to hide behind. But she needn’t have worried. Juliette simply walked along with her, holding and being held, a perfect partner in this pas de deux. When she did speak, it was to surprise Katarina.
“I always thought they tarried way too long with this Order for you. The greatest ballerina to have ever graced any floorboards, and yet her own country didn’t acknowledge her.
Americans made you a Kennedy Center Honoree some fifteen years ago.
You have an Emmy, a Tony, a Grammy, you’re one shy of a full EGOT.
You were even inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Which, if you ask me, is by far your coolest achievement, as a dancer—”
“You would think that.” Katarina laughed at her wife’s antics.
“So what took them here so long?” Still chuckling, Katarina turned and saw a brief flash of chagrin on Juliette’s features before it morphed into teasing.
“Politics, darling.” Katarina’s words made Juliette scowl. “I didn’t think you cared this much about some medal in Estonia, Juliette.”
“How can I not?” All teasing was gone. Katarina watched as Juliette squirmed under her gaze before biting her lip and pointing forward with her chin. “Let’s get out of this cold, my love. Maybe we could order room service and take advantage of that amazing jacuzzi we have in the suite?”
Katarina allowed herself to be led. And allowed Juliette to change the subject.
There was something there, an annoying hangnail of sorts, that clearly bothered Juliette, but Katarina knew to wait.
Hell, she’d made waiting a professional occupation years ago.
So she let it all slide, watching Juliette out of the corner of her eye, and lengthened her stride, mindful of the silent, shivering in earnest figure next to her.
The evening unfolded as Juliette had wished.
Room service dinner, fish en papillote and a lovely wine and then the jacuzzi relaxed them both enough to make them sleepy, warm and cozy.
As she snuggled under the blankets for the night, Juliette sleeping soundly beside her, Katarina scrolled through her messages, catching up on her various group chats and social media channels.
A month old picture from Vivian caught her eye. How had she missed it? Probably because she was in the middle of staging the Tchaikovsky extravaganza in London and was so busy she barely remembered to breathe.
But the photo beckoned, and as she saved it to her camera roll, an idea formed in her head. She pulled Juliette towards her, who whimpered and reached for her in sleep and as a tear slid down her cheek, Katarina knew, the picture and the idea couldn’t have come at a better time.
Juliette refused to open her eyes and give in to the reality of a new day.
This was their third visit to Estonia, and each one was harder than the previous.
They weren’t even particularly eventful.
Sure, people gushed and celebrated them.
Thunderous applause met them at pretty much every corner during official events.
And yet…
Juliette burrowed deeper into the bedding. Katarina was sad here. The blanket of sadness was a constant companion, and no matter what Juliette said or did, shaking this coating of misery was next to impossible.
She would bounce back once they returned to Paris or New York. But in Tallinn, among the ghosts?
The soft sound of footsteps made Juliette peek from under her eyelashes only to quickly squeeze her eyes shut.
Still, as the steps approached, she knew she’d been caught.
“You’ve been awake for almost half an hour, darling. Brooding, no doubt.”
Juliette huffed out a breath and leaned into the warm palm cupping her cheek.
“I can brood if I want to.” The petulance in her tone did not deter her from remaining in bed. They had nowhere to go today. Their plane was tomorrow, and Juliette was in a mood for some sulking.
“Sure you can, you are a champion brooder when you put that gorgeous mind of yours to it.”
Katarina’s fingertips traced her cheekbones and then booped her nose. Juliette frowned at the indignity.
“Do you want to get up and have breakfast with me under the fairy lights?”
That got Juliette to sit up in bed so quickly her head spun. When she opened her eyes, the entire hotel room was almost blanketed by little twinkling bulbs, dancing merrily to their own tune.
She wanted to ask, but the sight was a familiar one. Juliette had seen pictures of this very image, had read the group chat and the idea that Audrey Avens had put out there.
“Fairy lights…” She repeated slowly, and Katarina nodded, lifting her chin and giving her a chaste peck on the lips. Juliette grimaced at her own morning breath, despite knowing her wife of decades didn’t mind. Still, she had always been fussy about these things.
“Yes, your mood yesterday and this morning seemed to warrant the cavalry. And I confess to having missed this entire phenomenon when Audrey did it for Neve.”
Katarina gave her another peck, using her thumb to smooth the frown on Juliette’s brow.
“You were busy back then. First London, and then getting ready for this place.”