“It’s my turn in the front.”
Her eyes flashed and she slid to the back of the car. I felt her grip tighten around me and we blasted off into the stars.
Driven
Pam Graham
Tescot held open the gleaming rear door of her employer’s dark green Rolls Royce. Erika Fortis, the employer, stood back so her companion, a thoroughly drunken Blissie Adams, could collapse onto the oversize backseat. Once Blissie had landed, Erika, also smashed, toppled in after her. It was a Tuesday, half past noon. Another monthly gathering of Charleston’s most well-to-do lesbians, for brunch at the home of the richest of them all, was breaking up. Myra Pinnook had outdone herself again, and the ladies had left no mimosa standing.
After tucking a stray one of Ms. Fortis’s feet safely inside, Tescot efficiently closed the door and whisked to the driver’s seat. “Where to, ma’am?”
“Better get Blissie home, Bridges.”
“It’s Tescot, ma’am. Bridges is on vacation.” Tescot, newly added to the payroll since law school let out three days before, was picking up all kinds of extra hours as the other chauffeurs took time off to enjoy summer.
Blissie was conscious enough to interrupt. “No, Bridges, take us out to Star Point.” She gave Erika a meaningful look, meant to be seductive, but its allure was waylaid by the booze.
The intercom went dead and Tescot figured the matter was being discussed. When the speakerphone opened again, it caught the end of a sigh from Ms. Fortis before she said, “Okay, Bridges, Star Point.”
Star Point was a thickly forested high spot overlooking a wide inlet, where a person could park in the sheltered privacy of thick vegetation and still gaze at the ocean. Tescot had no trouble guessing what they were going to the Point for, but with the dividing window closed and the intercom off, she needed only read her law journal until she got the order to drive home.
Not five minutes after she opened her journal, Tescot heard live air over the speaker. Protocol said to wait for the back to address her first. Instead of instructions, she heard Blissie’s moaned encouragements.
“Still nobody like you, Erika. God, your mouth!”
Tescot supposed one of them must have bumped the intercom switch. There was nothing about this kind of situation in any chauffeur’s manual she’d ever read. Realizing she’d simply have to wait it out, she closed her book and tried to think about world peace and injustice and the environment.
Tescot could hear the unmistakable sound of wet plunging fingers beneath what had to be Blissie’s whimpers. Finally, and Tescot fleetingly wondered if Ms. Fortis was thinking “finally” too, Blissie gasped and let out a long “aaahhh,” followed by silence.
Seconds later, Ms. Fortis swore. “Fuck. Bridges, I told you to let me know the next time Blissie played her little intercom trick.”
“It’s Tescot, ma’am. Bridges is on vacation. Have you been trying to get my attention for long, ma’am? I’m afraid I had my headphones on too loud and heard you just then between songs.”
Erika took a couple of seconds to process that. “We’ll be taking Ms. Adams home now, Tescot.”
“Right away, ma’am.”
While Tescot was helping Blissie up to her entryway, Erika checked the front seat for CDs and headphones. Nothing up there but a thick black book.
Erika got her first deliberate look at Tescot as she walked briskly around the front of the car and swung inside. There was no question of Tescot being straight. Beyond the unerring twinge Erika got just looking at her, there was the added fact that Erika advertised for domestic hires exclusively through the Lesbian Alliance.
“Where to now, ma’am?”
“That depends. Have you had breakfast yet?”
Erika saw Tescot cock her head and make a quick check in the rearview mirror at her. “About six hours ago.”
Erika smiled, thinking, Good, give me a chase. That’s always so bracing. “Lunch, then?”
“While you were brunching, ma’am.”
“Well, that leaves dinner. Don’t tell me you choked down an early dinner at the Point while you”—Erika fought to keep the mockery from her voice—“listened to your music.”
“Of course not. I have a dinner date and wouldn’t want a spoiled appetite.”
“Hmm.” Erika formed two theories. Three. Tescot did not find her attractive. Nah. Tescot was spoken for. A real possibility. Tescot was disgusted and turned off by the Blissie thing. Probably that. “Tescot, may I be quite blunt with you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m concerned that you were being chivalrous when you said your CD player had been on too loudly to hear anything over the intercom earlier. And if you did happen to hear something, then you might have gotten a wrong impression.”
“There were no impressions, ma’am.”
“We’ll leave it at that, then. But allow me to explain a few things anyway. Blissie and I go way back. And you know how these things work with old...friends. Anyway, Blissie is having some problems and needed me. I’m sure you know how that is, right, Tescot?” Erika was still speaking at the back of Tescot’s head.
“Ma’am, I really need this job.”
Believing she’d hit upon the reason for all this reserve, Erika assured her, “And nothing personal would ever threaten that. You have my word.”
Tescot knew very well that Erika Fortis surrounded herself with lesbians—partly to promote the community, but also for the aesthetics. When she took this job, she had decided that if the question ever arose, claiming heterosexuality would be the simplest plan.
“There’s one personal situation I should mention, ma’am. I’m straight.” She couldn’t resist a check of the mirror for the reaction that got.
Erika ballooned her cheeks and blew out loudly. “How in the hell did that happen?”
Knowing she should stick to the aloof, regimented persona she’d vowed to maintain on this job, Tescot dryly delivered her sarcasm anyway. “Parents were heterosexual, ma’am. And much of the cultural influence I grew up with condoned that lifestyle, so naturally I—”
Erika Fortis howled with laughter as she held down the button that slowly closed the partition. She snapped the intercom switch. “Drive to the nearest HoppinFast restaurant. I’m starving after too much champagne and I need some time to figure you out.”
Up front, Tescot blanched. Figure me out? That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Posing as straight was intended to dull Erika Fortis’s interest, not deepen it.
As she covered her mouth to stifle a yawn, Erika caught Blissie’s scent on her hand. She flipped the intercom on. “Tescot, maybe we’ll wait on that food after all. Head for home, please.”
Ms. Fortis asked for the car at five that afternoon. She popped into the back and closed the door before Tescot could do it for her. She was leaning forward, her head through the partition gap, when Tescot slid behind the wheel.
Tescot chose to allow the rearview mirror to mediate their conversation again. She awaited instructions.
Rested now, Erika smiled confidently as she asked, “Are you really straight?”
Even confined in that tiny mirror, Erika Fortis’s eyes were killers. “I am,” Tescot lied with feeling.
“Will you be my friend?”
That rocked Tescot’s comportment some. “What, ma’am?”
“My friend. Will you be my friend?”
“I’m not sure what, exactly, you mean by that.”
Erika straightened her posture and spoke deliberately. “Friends. We could have real conversations—ones that begin with something truly interesting and don’t inevitably circle round to sex, or being lesbian, or who’s doing what with whom.” She leaned farther into the front area and reached over to point at the book beside Tescot. “Law, for instance. You’re interested in the law?”
Becoming involved with this woman, in any way, was the last thing Tescot wanted. For one thing, Erika Fortis had a reputation for loving and leaving that crossed most social b
oundaries.
“Ma’am, I really need this job.”
“There’s a good starting place. Let’s talk about you and this job.”
Tescot was silent.
Erika was unshakable. “We’ll begin with me repeating that nothing personal will jeopardize your job. Honest.”
Abandoning the mirror, Tescot faced Erika Fortis. “More than anything in this world, I want to finish law school. There are scholarships and grants, but I have to make enough money during the summer to live on during semesters, when I can only work part-time. You pay very well, Ms. Fortis, and the benefits you provide are better than generous. Plus, there’s the bonus of all the study time while the car isn’t in use. Continuing to work for you over the next three years will be invaluable to getting through with the grades I need.” In conclusion, she sighed.
Erika Fortis’s eyes had not left hers during all that. “Two things, Tescot. Call me Erika, and drive us to Star Point, please.” Erika sat back and closed the partition.
On the way, Tescot resigned herself to indulging Erika—until she went too far. She parked in an uninspiring spot far from where they’d been with Blissie earlier.
The second the car came to rest, down went the separating screen. “Tescot, I’m coming up front.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
Erika’s head poked over the seat back and she reached forward to pick up Tescot’s book. “Fine, you grouchy old skeptic,” she teased. “All I wanted to do was discuss your chosen profession.” Both arms extended over the seat now as she leafed through pages without looking at them. Her expression turned serious. “Do you have any idea how many women, especially idealistic types, get disillusioned with the law after sacrificing a couple of years to law school?”
“A lot. But that won’t be me. No matter how tough it gets, I’ll stay focused on the people who’ll need my help.”
Erika tossed the book back onto the seat. “Tough isn’t what I’m talking about. It’s the abrasiveness. Are you ready to be used, to have colleagues win your confidence and then turn on you? Are you prepared to be cornered into making decisions where somebody gets unjustly hurt regardless of how you choose?”
Tescot replied calmly, “What’s more, I realize that each time I clear one of those hurdles, I’ll be changed, hardened by it.” She gave some thought before adding, “The trick will be to maintain an inviolate core.”
“And you’re up to all that?”
“Guess I’ll find out.”
Wistful, Erika stared at the binding of Tescot’s book. Then she brightened. “I’d like to help you study.”
Thawing in her assessment of Erika, and becoming less annoyed by how absolutely charming the woman was, Tescot shook her head. “Believe me, you are helping. Like I said, the job is perfect.”
“But I mean directly. I could quiz you on what you cover in this monster every day.” She slapped the book. “Please, I want to.”
Roughing up her own hair and narrowing her eyes at Erika, Tescot gave in. “That would be nice.”
Erika pumped the air with her fist. “Victory! Let’s go to that HoppinFast now, okay? I still haven’t eaten since Myra’s this morning.”
Tescot pulled into place beside a curbside menu.
Erika, who’d been fairly quiet during the drive, asked, “May I come up front?”
“Sure, it’s your car.” Tescot dodged the menu station as she got out to go around.
But Erika was already letting herself in the passenger side, muttering, “Didn’t feel like my damn car up at the Point when you made me stay put.”
That destroyed what was left of Tescot’s decorum and she laughed out loud.
Over onion rings and shakes, Erika interrogated her. “So, now that you’re calling me Erika, how about revealing your first name?”
“Most people call me Tescot.”
“Maybe I don’t intend to be like most people.”
“Okay, my first name’s Alma.”
Erika hooted. “Ho-lee shit! An Alma you ain’t. Maybe I’ll call you by your middle name.”
“Edwina, you mean?”
“Fuck a duck! Your parents should be locked up.”
Tescot was to have the car around front at nine thirty the next morning. Erika had committed to sponsoring a polo match to be held later in the season, with proceeds going to the women’s shelter. And she was expected to attend one of the big publicity-getting scrimmages that morning.
When Erika helped herself into the front seat, again without waiting for Tescot’s attendance, she hauled along with her a twin to the huge volume on civil rights law that already lay there.
Tescot’s expression emptied. “Erika, how in the world?” She knew you could only buy this particular book as part of a set that cost almost six hundred dollars.
Nonchalant, Erika commented, “This? If I’m going to quiz you effectively, I’ll need to prepare from what you studied the day before. Having just one copy would slow us down. Now, while I’m getting this polo thing out of the way, will you jot down the pages you’ll be working on today?”
“You are a freak.”
“Never mind calling me names, just make sure you study hard.” They had pulled into a row of cars facing the polo field. As Erika let herself out, Tescot decided she might as well stop racing her to the door.
It was blazing hot for so early in the morning, but the woman who glided up to greet Erika not twenty feet beyond the car looked cool in a turquoise polo outfit and light tan boots. She appeared to be even fitter than the fine bay horse she was leading—everything firm and perfectly proportioned. When they reached the sideline, she bent forward and kissed Erika on the mouth before ascending effortlessly into the saddle. Erika waved to her as she rode off toward the rest of her team. Then Erika found a woman who was paying lots of attention to a clipboard and the two of them consulted seriously for a while.
Tescot tried to study but was supremely distracted by the match. Especially, and she wasn’t comfortable with this, by the woman who had kissed Erika and by trying to assess Erika’s reaction whenever that woman was involved in the play, which she often was. Obviously, she was some kind of star player or something.
At the break, Erika took the hotshot a sports drink. After downing it, she slipped the hand that wasn’t holding reins around Erika’s waist. But Erika said something that got them into what looked like a deep discussion. Hotshot didn’t like the content, Tescot could tell. Then Erika kissed her on the cheek and moved back a step or two. Erika nodded in the car’s direction and walked away smiling.
“Whew!” Erika landed on the front seat with a thump. “Hot out there. I don’t get why anyone would do anything as strenuous as play polo in this heat.”
Tescot upped the air conditioner, assuming this was a break for cooling off.
Kicking out of her sandals, Erika asked, “Where should we conduct our study sessions? I know, drive to the house and we’ll use the solarium off the library. It’s private and quiet and the view’s beautiful.”
“But I thought you were staying for the whole match. Didn’t you say there’d be more media here at the end of it?”
“Karen Swinson, see her over there with the clipboard? Karen can handle things. I’m not really with it, anyway. I keep thinking about our first lesson and can’t wait to get started.”
As taskmaster, Erika was relentless. She planned as carefully for each day’s drills as Tescot did. A week into their regimen, Erika started canceling small engagements to give them more time to work.
On Friday afternoon, Tescot said she was cutting their session short so Erika would have plenty of time to get ready for a formal benefit dinner that night.
Erika was making trouble over quitting early. “Tescot, I don’t particularly care to go to this thing tonight. Really, they already have my donation. I could stay home and we could have dinner brought up here.”
Continuing to gather notes and closing her book, Tescot was unwavering. “Sorry, I’m beginning
to understand how these matters work, and your presence is as important as your donation. Remember telling me that every influential lesbian within three states will be there? Well, that won’t be true if you play hooky, now will it?” Without waiting for agreement, Tescot scooted out the door, only pausing to reiterate, “I’ll have the car out front at seven sharp. Be there.”
Mouthwatering as she was in casual dress, Erika in formal attire simultaneously made women desperate to possess and fearful of being too near her. Tescot was no exception. She actually beat Erika, probably because of the heels, to the car doors and held open the back one, saying low, “No arguments. That dress deserves to ride where there’s more room and less chance of scrunching it up.”
Grumbling, but getting in anyway, Erika said, “Fucking Nazi.”
“Very pretty language, ma’am.” Tescot shut the door with a flourish.
Seemed she had just settled into a long chapter on the fourteenth amendment when someone tried the passenger door and, finding it locked, knocked on the tinted window. It was Erika, drunk as a baby dyke on prom night. She didn’t hear the lock electronically disengage, so Tescot ran around, opened the door and helped her in.
With Erika collapsed in her arms, their bodies half in the car and half in the driveway, Tescot grunted, “God, you’re like trying to hold liquid without a container. Cooperate, Erika.” But cooperation was not among the motor skills still available to Erika. Tescot eventually crammed all of her onto the front seat and closed the door quickly behind her. Before starting the engine, she asked, “How does a person get this wasted in such a short time? You were in there for less than an hour.”
“Ever heard of ouzo?”
From behind the wheel, Tescot tried to prop Erika upright. She whistled softly. “Had a single shot of it once and don’t remember a thing after it hit bottom.”
Erika held up four fingers. “Try three shots. Zoom.”
When the engine started, Erika mustered enough concentration to sit up on her own. “Don’t take me home.”
“You’re in no shape to go anywhere else.”
“Star Point. I’m in good enough shape for you to take me to Star Point. That breeze is so cool, we could take the windows down and I could sleep it off while you study. Please, I really dread going back to the house.”
Extreme Passions Page 25