Car Pool

by Karin Kallmaker

  “This isn’t all just speculation?” Adrian rubbed his eyes behind his glasses.

  Shay shook her head. “We have data and corroborating evidence. So our well suddenly not only has xylene, it has lots of xylene. About twenty percent over hazardous. Then, three weeks and seven hauling jobs into this grid later, the xylene is back to less than what it was before. And all that soil has been moved way over here — wouldn’t we love to have a soil sample from that area?”

  Adrian waved his hand like an eager six-year-old. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”

  Shay pursed her lips. “You’ll do no such thing without adult supervision, young man.”

  Harold punched the map in the vicinity of B-B-146. “I wish I could find out how much water was pumped out in that area, because the soil movement alone won’t do it. It would take a lot of water, too, because the ground is mostly clay now.”

  Anthea set the ganache dish down on the table and began slicing. As she set the first piece in front of Harold, with caramel pecan sauce oozing from the center, he said, “I want to have your baby.”

  Anthea laughed. “Cappuccino coming right up.”

  Adrian was smiling. “Now I know the way to his heart forever.”

  “Chocolate is the universal aphrodisiac,” Shay said. She eagerly took her first bite. When Anthea returned with the cappuccino, all three of them were thumping their feet on the floor and rocking back and forth in their chairs.

  “Chocolate orgasm,” Adrian said.

  Anthea had the same reaction when she took her own first bite. She swelled up with pleasure and euphoria — it was either the chocolate or pride at having done a good job. It was hard to concentrate on Shay, who was answering Adrian’s question about why the water pumping would be important.

  “If we knew that they had flooded this area, we’d have them on two counts. First, it would be evidence of intent to hide an illegal act. That’s one regulation that the EPA can fine for. Second, the illegal act is attempting to alter the constituents in an area already under EPA scrutiny. Not only is moving the soil illegal, so is pumping water into the area. But I don’t think there’s any way the four of us can get pumping logs.” Everyone nodded in agreement. “So the logs might be mysteriously misplaced when the EPA seizes relevant records.”

  Harold whistled. “This is going to get serious, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a serious thing that’s been done. By diluting the xylene, they’ve spread it over a larger, unscrutinized area. Little by little, with every rainfall, the runoff into the bay is going to contain some xylene.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “Well,” Shay said. “I need to get into it with Scott about whether he’s going to continue to insist the well sample I took — the one that started all this — is a lab error. Maybe he’ll order a retest, but I don’t think so. So I think I’ll let him fire me when I refuse to write the report his way. Then I have cause of action on another front — wrongful termination.”

  “Isn’t that a little extreme?” Anthea hated to think of Shay getting fired.

  “My dad and I went through a couple of these kinds of things, usually called in after someone got fired because they wouldn’t participate in a cover-up. The important thing with the EPA is to show intent to cover up. Fines are trebled and there’s less chance of them being waived later. Even so, I could also get treble damages, which would hurt NOC-U a bit. I’d like to see them get heavy fines and take a stock beating so shareholders get angry, like they did at G.E. I’ve got no problem with companies making profits, as long as they do it ethically. And this just isn’t right.”

  Anthea took a deep breath. “Seconds, anyone?”

  All three plates were held out.

  “A deadly combination,” Adrian said. “Chocolate and anarchy.”

  “But it’s not expensive. They’re practically giving it away because they’re upgrading the whole kitchen,” Anthea said. She diced carrots and slid them gently into the bubbling broth.

  “How did you learn about this stove?” Mrs. Giordano put a final pat on a mound of dough, then turned it into a large stainless steel bowl to rise.

  “Well,” Anthea hedged. “I was talking to a friend who runs a restaurant.” Actually, she had called a friend of Lois’s who had been receptive to the idea of ordering an industrial stove on Anthea’s behalf. She didn’t want to bruise the old lady’s pride, but it would save her a great deal of labor to have six

  burners instead of four. And during the summer a heavier, insulated oven would keep the heat down. “It occurred to me you could use it.”

  Shay came in with Mrs. Kroeger on one arm, followed closely by Mrs. Stein.

  Mrs. Giordano turned to Shay and said firmly, “This girl of yours is giving me a new stove. What will I do with the old one?”

  Anthea knew Mrs. Giordano was hooked, but she didn’t know about Shay. It wasn’t as if she needed Shay’s permission — Mrs. Giordano was as much her friend as Shay’s after all these weekends of working side by side.

  “Well,” Shay said slowly, “there must be someone who needs a perfectly good stove, but doesn’t need to run a mini-restaurant on it.”

  Mrs. Kroeger said she was sure Lily Wagner needed a new stove.

  Anthea dished up fettucine noodles and smothered them with meat sauce. She remembered that Mrs. Kroeger liked extra cheese.

  “But who will move it?” Mrs. Giordano looked as if she were afraid this detail stood between her and her salvation.

  Anthea went back to chopping carrots. “I have these two male friends. I made them a ganache last night and basically, they owe me.”

  Shay was smiling. “Harold does drive a cute little mini-truck. Let’s not tell him about the stairs until he gets here.”

  “The stove should be here, I mean they should have it available in a couple of weeks,” Anthea said.

  She started to blush as Mrs. Giordano gave her a sharp look. She’d have to dirty the thing up or Mrs. Giordano would never believe it was used.

  Mrs. Giordano said to Shay, “This girl of yours. Are you going to make her an honest woman? What do they call it?”

  Shay’s mouth hung open.

  Mrs. Stein croaked, “Domestic partners, that’s what it is. A bit more of that sauce would be lovely, dear.”

  Anthea watched Shay slowly close her mouth. “I, uh, we hadn’t talked about it. Yet. We don’t even live together.”

  Mrs. Giordano waved a hand at Shay. “In my day this girl of yours would have been called a real homemaker, and that’s no easy thing. Plus she works, she’s smart, she has the pension plan—”

  “Mrs. Giordano, please,” Anthea protested. “I feel like a prize cow.” And Shay looked like a reluctant farmer.

  One of Mrs. Giordano’s eloquent hand waves was directed at Anthea. “And she’s got a heart of gold.”

  “I know that,” Shay said, weakly. “I think she’s quite nice.”

  “Nice!” Mrs. Giordano shrugged and turned to Mrs. Stein. “Nice, they call it these days. You should have heard what I heard this morning from downstairs. We never called it nice.”

  Anthea gasped and a carrot went rolling across the counter. Shay’s face was gold-orange and the tips of her ears were brick red. Anthea suspected that her own face was magenta. They’d only stopped in to

  get some fresh clothes for Shay, and then, well, things had gotten a little urgent. They’d tried to be quiet.

  “Don’t tease, Sophie,” Mrs. Kroeger said. “Though I must say I’d enjoy a wedding.”

  “That’s it!” Anthea swept the rest of the chopped carrot into the soup stock and reduced the heat. “All done. Time to go.” Shay held the door for her and closed it behind them.

  Mrs. Giordano was saying, “At the rate those two are going, it’ll be Christmas at least.”

  Anthea didn’t quite know what to say when they went into Shay’s apartment. For heaven’s sake, they’d acted just like she and Shay were a courting couple, headed for matrimony, which was
something they just couldn’t have. “So that’s what it feels like.”

  “What feels like?” Shay’s voice sounded a little higher pitched than usual.

  Anthea turned to her. “To be treated like everyone else. To not have to make excuses and feel limited and restricted just because of who you love. To have all the options open to you —”

  “But they aren’t,” Shay said. “We can’t get married.”

  Anthea drew her breath, pressing her lips together. She glanced away. “Why not? I mean, just hypothetically.”

  “Because we can’t get a marriage license. Literally.”

  “But isn’t it time, I mean, shouldn’t we … I’ve thought a lot about what you said about pushing the envelope. So what if the government doesn’t recognize it. It wouldn’t be any less real.” It came to

  her like a thunderclap that she’d just realized what it felt like to want something she couldn’t have because of stupid laws based on bigotry and fear. Thirty-six years old, she thought contemptuously, and you’ve just realized what it feels like to be oppressed. Welcome to the real world.

  “Andy, it’s not that I don’t—”

  “Churches do gay marriages now. And the government doesn’t recognize that your family was wronged, but they were.” Anthea felt as if all her nerves had risen to the surface of her skin. She felt naked and exposed and too vulnerable. Way too vulnerable.

  After a short silence, Shay nodded. “My uncles would give their dying breath to have the wrong recognized, but that’s looking at the past. I don’t want to do that.”

  “I’m not talking about the past,” Anthea said softly. “I’m talking about our future. A possible future.” I’ve just realized what I want that I can’t have because I’m gay, she wanted to say. I want to have a relationship with you that no one can question or take away. She had thought this was how Shay felt, too, but apparently not. Shay was being evasive.

  “I guess it could happen.” She smiled slightly. “Hypothetically.”

  She turned away to gather some books from the floor. “I don’t suppose we could dash over to the library, could we?”

  “Sure,” Anthea said. Okay, they’d change the subject. It had gotten very warm in here, she decided. “Let me carry some.” She was glad to have

  something to busy her hands so she could ignore the extra moisture in her eyes. Her emotions were jumping all over the place lately.

  “You sure have Mrs. Giordano wrapped around your little finger,” Shay continued. “How does it feel to be Our Lady of Largesse?”

  Anthea stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn’t have been more stunned than if Shay had slapped her. “Is that why you think I did it? Play the grand lady?” Her breath came in short gasps. “Noblesse oblige? Out of some … self-serving, philanthropic, do-gooder impulse?” She realized she was angry. Not just angry. Enraged. “Is that really what you think of me?”

  “No, I… that’s not what I meant,” Shay said. “Maybe I’m envious. Maybe I wish I could have done something to help her so much. You don’t have to be so touchy about it!”

  “Touchy? Has it occurred to you that I might care? And that I might not appreciate you making out that just because it’s easy for me to do it doesn’t count?” That’s what Lois had said. And that giving away money was all Anthea was good for.

  “Count for what?” Shay stood with one hand on her hip.

  “Toward my keep on this planet.”

  “I don’t want to fight about it.”

  “Obviously you have something you want to say,” Anthea said. “Or you wouldn’t have started it with that nasty crack.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way —”

  “It sounded like you did—”

  “You’re being unreasonable —”

  “I’m being unreasonable?” Anthea was so angry

  she was shaking. She never let herself lose control like this. She hadn’t with Lois, but then again Lois had said she didn’t care enough to get angry. “I don’t feel like going to the library,” she said. She held out the armload of library books and let them fall with a resounding thud to the floor. “Call me when you can stand the sight of me and all my belongings.”

  “Andy, for Christ’s sake—”

  She stalked past Shay and out to the VW. She drove home sedately, then went through the house to the deck. She sat down on a bench and stared out at the shimmering vista. Shimmering, she realized, because her eyes were full of tears, and the tears were spilling over. She drew in a breath only to sob it out again, crying so hard she couldn’t breathe.

  Hot tears poured into her hands. She cried because she knew she’d been petty. She cried because no matter what, she’d never love her parents. The house had burnt down. Lois had cheated on her. She cried because her mother had been so out of it at her graduation that she’d forgotten Anthea had graduated at all. Then she cried because she hadn’t put it all behind her no matter how hard she tried. And it still hurt. She cried because she didn’t know if Shay didn’t want to commit because of the money or because she didn’t have any feelings for her beyond wanting to have sex.

  The sex was great, but it wasn’t enough. Not when Anthea felt the way she did. As if she’d just reclaimed her life only to find it full of Shay.

  The flood abated somewhat — it had to. Her head throbbed and her shoulders were cramped, her face

  and hands were a mess. She went into the bath to wash and found herself crying because she wanted a cigarette. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was a mass of blotches and her nose shone like a cherry tomato.

  The doorbell rang. She knew who it was, so she wiped her eyes and went to let Shay in.

  Shay’s face looked a lot like her own. Even though her nose was tiny, it was still red. And for some reason, it made Anthea smile around the edges. She sniffed and gazed at Shay.

  Shay sniffed back, and her lips curved slightly in an echo of a smile.

  They sniffed at each other for a few moments, then Shay wiped her nose on her sleeve.

  Anthea finally managed to work a few words around the boulder in her throat. “I’m sorry I went off the deep end.”

  “I love you.” Shay bit her lower lip and looked like a scared, bedraggled kitten.

  Anthea shook her head, making sure she was hearing clearly. She was. She sniffed again. “I love you, too.”

  They sat down in the entryway with a box of Kleenex between them.

  “I’m scared,” Shay said. “I’ve never been in love before.”

  Anthea stopped short in the midst of blowing her nose. “Never?”

  “Never. I’ve had my share of lovers, but both of us knew it was always temporary. It was easier than this.”

  “Do you feel like you’re walking on a razor blade? The sharp edge?”

  Shay was nodding. “I feel like if I make a wrong move —”

  “111 start being unreasonable —”

  “No, that I’ll hurt you. You’ve been hurt so much, I don’t want to add to it.”

  Anthea felt tears leak down her cheeks. She hadn’t cried since she was seven. Now she couldn’t stop. “I just want to be able to give. Whatever, just give to you because I love you.”

  “You gotta learn to take more.”

  “So do you.” Anthea wiped her eyes. “Any minute we’re going to start talking about our inner child.”

  Shay laughed and took a fresh tissue. “I’ll certainly stop taking your sweet nature for granted. I didn’t know you had a temper.”

  “I don’t let it out very often,” Anthea said. “Usually only at other drivers.”

  “You know, I would have said my father raised me to know what I wanted and set out to get it. That’s how I approach working. That’s how I’m thinking about this thing with NOC-U. I want them to get nailed and I’ll see that it happens. But, well, you’re different.”

  “I’m glad I’m not a remediation project,” Anthea said. She actually felt like laughing.

  Shay looked at her with
a genuine smile in her red-rimmed eyes. “You’ve been hanging around me too much. You’re starting to pick up the lingo.”

  “You’ve let the genie out of the bottle,” Anthea said.

  “Do I get three wishes?”

  “Anything,” Anthea said.

  “My first wish is to get up off this remarkably clean but very hard floor.”

  Anthea scrambled to her feet and pulled Shay up after her. She swayed as the blood left her head. Shay looked kind of shaky, too. “Next wish?”

  “I wish we would kiss and make up.”

  “Easy enough,” Anthea said. She took Shay’s face between her hands and kissed her tenderly. Her fingertips felt the heat of Shay’s skin as she brushed at the fringe of hair over her ears. She started to draw back, but Shay held her tight.

  “My last wish,” she whispered.

  “Anything,” Anthea said.

  “I wish for three more wishes.”

  Anthea laughed. “Okay, but the first one has to be for another—”

  Shay kissed her before she could finish.

  “Is that your final decision?” Shay stood up so she could stare down at Scott. She felt about ten feet tall.

  “The report’s going in the way I write it. You’re not here to decide our reporting policy.” Scott sat back in his chair and tapped his pencil on the desk.

  “Then I’ll go to MacNamara over your head. And if he won’t listen, I’ll go to Billings. I’ll go to Rosen if I have to.” Rosen was the head of the project.

  “And I’ll remind you that your six-month probation isn’t quite up, Sumoto. I don’t like insubordination.”

  “I don’t like false reporting,” Shay said firmly. “I’ll go to the Water Board.”

  “That’s it,” Scott said. “It’s obvious that this employment relationship isn’t working out, so I think

  it’s best if we terminate it right now. I’ll have a guard escort you off the premises. And only take what’s yours from your desk. All files and diskettes stay here.”