They had only talked about Taylor once. Alex had firmly stated that they weren’t sleeping together. They were friends who happened to like to do some of the same things. Alex told Gigi that she didn’t sleep with her friends but if she did it would be as a single woman. Gigi let it go at that because she was worried that Ollie was hovering about getting ready to bring her world tumbling down with a few quick sentences. Having no room to talk, Gigi didn’t question Alex any further. She knew that her wife wouldn’t cheat. She’d end it first. Gigi didn’t know which one she dreaded more.
Instead, she tried to find comfort in the fact that Alex was throwing her a birthday party in a few weeks and surely that was a sign of love.
As Alex told her, Mother Rose certainly wasn’t going to be giving her one. Alex had laughed nervously saying, “I’m hoping she doesn’t show up with a shotgun to end her creation after she finds out what you have planned for the Christian Exhibition.”
“Maybe we should rent bullet proof vests,” Gigi said.
“Might not be a bad idea,” Alex said.
Thinking back on that Gigi felt better. She stayed close to Alex the rest of the night, looking for clues that she still loved her.
The next morning Gigi was up early. Pre-show jitters had kept her up most of the night. The old cliché This is the first day of the rest of your life kept dancing around her brain. Gigi couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
Alex stumbled into the kitchen and looked at the clock on the stove. She was a morning person but this seemed like the middle of the night. It was four in the morning.
“You’re up early. What time does the show start?” Alex said, shuffling toward the coffee maker and thinking that religious people must get up really early.
“It starts at noon, high noon, you know like when shootouts used to start in the old west. I’ll meet you at high noon and blow your brains out,” Gigi said, pulling a mock pistol out of her mock holster and aiming it at an imaginary opponent.
“Gigi, are you all right?” Alex asked.
“I’m fine. I’m fucking wonderful. I am going to go down in Catholic history as the righter of all wrongs,” Gigi said, with more enthusiasm than was necessary.
“You don’t have to do this. You could call the whole thing off,” Alex advised.
“No way,” Gigi said staunchly. “This is a war and there can be no truce. I’m going to the warehouse. You’ll come by later, right?”
“Sure,” Alex said.
The Kokopeli Was An Alien Vending Company was ready and waiting for Rose and the Bishop. The activists stood around twittering with excitement. Avid art goers had come to view the exhibition as the activists had advertised the show in the local papers. Serious young women dressed in black with a variety of eyewear strolled around the exhibit. A reporter from the City Pages interviewed Gigi on intent and execution of the various pieces. Gigi watched his goatee as it bobbed up and down on his chin as he uttered lugubrious phrases on what he thought the show meant. Usually, Gigi despised these parasites of the art world but today he gave her a distraction from the wait. All she could think about was the look on her mother’s face when she saw the show. Rose was late and Gigi was anxious.
Lil came up and whispered in her ear, “Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She is not usually late. I hope she didn’t get in an accident,” Gigi replied, thinking what a waste that would be.
As if summoned, her mother, the Bishop and the elders from the church came strolling in with Rose at the head and the rest of the entourage like a flowing red carpet behind her. Rose beamed with pride and excitement. Gigi felt her stomach drop. Given a moment longer before all hell broke loose she probably would have puked.
Alex came in behind them and even she was unprepared for what happened next. Perhaps it was the image of good and evil juxtaposed that took her back. Rose stood in the middle of room, looking at the hideous garish figures of her blessed virgin, and her face crumpled. Alex stood watching as Gigi was frozen at the sight of her mother.
“Rose, what is the meaning of this?” the Bishop said, his face getting red.
“I . . . I don’t know. It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Rose said, scanning the crowd for Gigi. “It’s a mistake. It has to be a mistake.”
The holy entourage flocked about like a bunch of startled crows scanning the room for some semblance of the sanctity they were expecting.
Lil and Fran grabbed Gigi who for the first time in her life felt trepidation. It was like she was experiencing a fear enema, the gravity of her actions was suddenly being shoved up her ass and all she wanted was a toilet.
“Rose, Bishop, and members of the congregation, welcome to the show. So glad you could come. The Virgin as you can see is being portrayed as a metaphor for the misogyny that the patriarchy has perpetrated upon womankind for the last zillion years,” Lil said, putting her black spectacles that hung from a gold chain on and peering over them to look at her sister.
Rose lurched at her and luckily was restrained by larger members of the congregation.
“I should have known you were behind this. You are an abomination against God and you have brainwashed my daughter.”
“I beg to differ. God made all things and thus God made us, your daughter included. In fact, if you were a more accepting, gentle, mother your daughter would not have to resort to terrorist tactics in order to get your attention. I suggest you mend your own wicked ways before you start casting stones,” Lil advised.
Rose broke loose and floored her sister. The battle ensued and was not ended until the police arrived.
Del, Mallory and Alex sat in the rafters of the warehouse and watched as food, artwork, slinging purses and obscenities were hurled between supposed Christians and radical Heathens who waged war on the floor below.
“Do you think this is what Armageddon will look like?” Mallory asked as she snacked on finger food rescued from the buffet table.
“How can you eat at a time like this?” Del asked, wondering if and when Emergency Services were going to be called.
“It’s easy. I’m starving,” Mallory said, thinking she used to see this kind of behavior at Gigi’s house all the time. Gigi usually walked away with a lot less hair. Perhaps that was why as an adult she chose to wear it short.
“Should we be doing something?” Del asked, wondering what that something would be.
“Not unless you want to lose your two front teeth,” Mallory advised.
“It won’t last long,” Alex said, putting her cell phone away.
“How do you know that?” Del asked.
“I called 911. I was the tenth caller,” Alex said, watching as Rose tried to deck Gigi with ceramic incarnation of the virgin.
There was a package sitting propped up by the front door of the loft with no return address. Angel picked it up and tried to figure out if it was dangerous or not. No telling with Jennifer in town. She knew from the postmark that it was local so it wasn’t anything from her editor. She brought it inside and sat it rather unceremoniously on the floor. She had a deadline to meet with the comic strip so she set to work and forgot about it until bedtime.
Kim called from work to wish her good night, another one of their rituals. If they couldn’t see each other every day then they called. Kim listened to her about the strip. Angel picked up the box and absentmindedly opened it while they talked. It was a blue shirt identical to the one she had ruined with ink when Jennifer had surprised her that day in the loft. Pinned to the shirt was a quick note of apology and an invite to the gallery show as well as Jennifer’s telephone number.
“Angel, what’s up?” Kim asked, noticing the queer silence that had come over their conversation.
“I can’t fucking believe it!” Angel said, wadding up the note and pitching it across the room.
“What?”
For a split second, Angel considered not telling but her conscience got the better of her. Start omitting things now and it looks
like a coverup later, she told herself.
“Jennifer sent me a shirt for the one she helped ruin,” Angel said.
“I see,” Kim said, feeling her adrenal glands kicking in.
“I’m not letting her back in my life,” Angel declared.
“There is always the restraining order,” Kim said.
“I don’t want anything to do with her.”
“And you don’t have to. Why don’t you come for a cup of tea? I’ve got my half an hour break coming up.”
“Would you mind?”
“No, I’d really like to wrap my arms around you and kiss you all better,” Kim replied.
“I’ll be there in a flash,” Angel said.
Over tea in the hospital cafeteria Angel and Kim discussed the latest predicament. Kim was glad that Angel was sharing her fears with her about Jennifer rather than hiding them.
“Maybe we should go to the show,” Kim suggested.
“Why?” Angel said, immediately horrified.
“Because we could let her know we’re together in love and together, and that might put a stop to her putrid and insane thoughts of getting you back,” Kim said.
Angel laughed. “I do love you.”
“Then let’s make it known to Jennifer. It’s got to be better than hiding out,” Kim said, trying not to blush.
“Can we bring Mallory and Del?”
“As reinforcements?” Kim teased.
“Yes,” Angel said, taking Kim’s hand across the table.
“All right,” Kim said, trying to envision the outfit she would wear to let Jennifer know she had some serious competition.
“I don’t deserve you,” Angel said.
“No, you do. I deserve you and you deserve me. We’ve done our time in lesbian hell. It’s time we showed the rest of the world that as well. Agreed?”
“All the way. I’m off tomorrow. Can I take you to breakfast before you crash?”
“I’d like that,” Kim said.
At the Obelisk Bookstore the line of women waiting to get their copies of Adventures in Dykeland was rather formidable, not that Kim was surprised. But she was kind of nervous as she passed the line to see Angel, who was busy being charming and signing books. Kim sidled up next to her.
“I had no idea you were so popular,” Kim whispered as she took the chair Angel offered her.
“Neither did I,” Angel said, squeezing her hand.
“How are you doing?”
“Fine, I can’t believe I got talked into this,” Angel said.
“It’s good PR,” Kim said.
“You sound like my publicist,” Angel said.
“We’re just looking out for your career. I’ve got the night off, want to come for dinner?” Kim asked.
“I’d love to. I’m done at eight.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Angel kissed her. “I’ll see you then.”
Kim made her way past the line. Outside someone grabbed her arm.
“Long time no see,” Ollie said.
Kim tried not to bristle.
“What are you doing here?” Kim asked.
“I’m coming to buy a book,” Ollie said.
“Not the best day,” Kim said.
“Why? Because the mail lady gone famous is here,” Ollie said.
“Well, at least she’s got a dream,” Kim said, wishing there wasn’t animosity between them every time they met. It was sad thinking that the woman she once loved and shared her life with was now such a thorn in her side.
Angel excused herself from her fans. “I’ll be right back,” she told them.
“Are you okay?” Angel said, sidling up to Kim.
“Yes,” Kim said, taking her hand.
“I told you to leave her alone,” Angel told Ollie.
“It’s a free country,” Ollie taunted.
“Not if you hurt people,” Angel said, taking a step closer to Ollie.
“What, do you have special rights because you’re rich and famous now?” Ollie said.
“No, I don’t. I have special rights because I love her,” Angel replied.
Ollie stepped closer.
“Come on, buy a book later,” Kim advised.
Babe, the bookstore manager, came out.
“Is there a problem here?” she asked, puffing up her already formidable frame.
“No, she was just leaving,” Angel replied.
“We’re not done,” Ollie said, pointing a finger at Angel.
“Leave her alone,” Angel said, taking a step forward.
“Fuck you,” Ollie said.
Babe stepped in between them.
“Look, Angel is supposed to be here. So I think you better leave,” Babe advised Ollie.
“Until next time, sweetheart,” Ollie said, blowing Kim a kiss.
“Thanks, Babe,” Angel said. She took Kim in her arms. “Are you all right?”
“Now I am,” Kim said, watching Ollie’s car screech out of the parking lot.
“I hope you got what you wanted,” Ollie said, looking over at Caroline, who was holding her autographed copy of Adventures in Dykeland.
“Yes, thank you. Did you know we’d run into her?” Caroline asked.
“Kind of figured I would. Half thought I might see some of my other old buddies. I hear they all hang together now. Mallory goes out with Del who is friends with Kim who is dating Del’s best friend Angel who is getting famous because of women like you who think a comic strip means something,” Ollie said, giving Caroline a snide look.
“It does mean something but I won’t waste any of my philosophical thoughts on the unappreciative,” Caroline said, thinking the only reason she suffered hanging around Ollie was that she had promised to get her in to see Mallory.
“I did, however, find out that Alex is throwing Gigi a birthday party at the house in two weeks and guess who shall be crashing it. I think surprise will be our best friend,” Ollie said, with a perfectly evil glint in her eye.
Nine
Gigi awoke with a start. She was sweating profusely and her bad dream clung to her like a wet T-shirt. It was always the same dream or a subtle variation on the theme. Ever since the Christian Exhibition had gone public and her mother had been excommunicated from the church, what should have been a day of triumph had turned nasty, and now guilt swirled around Gigi’s brain at night and gave her wicked visions of her mother. She’d taken to staying up late and watching bad television just so she wouldn’t see her mother in those nasty apparitions.
The show was a great success and Gigi and the Lesbian Activists were now famous anti-art artists. Gigi had gotten several offers from galleries to show more of her stuff, including the photographic montage of life on the canals. She should have been happy but all she thought about was her mother screaming at the Bishop and his entourage as they did an about-face and walked out of Mother Rose’s life forever. Her mother crumbled into a sobbing pile in the middle of the exhibition. It would have been a stunning scene if it hadn’t been so sad and disheartening. Lil told her that Rose having her faith taken away would be the best thing anyone had ever done for her, but Gigi had her doubts.
Even Gigi’s father would not speak to her. This time she had gone too far. She’d finally gotten her wish to be truly free of her family. Somehow her expatriate status did not sit well with her. Her dreams, the tarot card reader told her, were a manifestation of her remorse and guilt. She must work through all the bad she had caused before she would be a clean woman again. Gigi didn’t have the heart to tell Sister Rita that she had never been a clean woman . . . only now all her misgivings had taken shape and were haunting her. There was no worse punishment for an amoral person than to suddenly infuse them with conscience. Gigi was on the verge of going to see Dr. Kohlrabi.
All she had to do was get through her birthday party this weekend and then she would seriously consider therapy. She couldn’t keep on like this. Gigi looked over at Alex sleeping soundly. Oh, to sleep like that again, Gigi thought wistfully
as she snuck out of the bed to lie on the couch and watch old movies. Maybe God is punishing me, Gigi mused, or the Virgin Mary. If I said a thousand Hail Mary’s would I sleep again? Gigi poured herself a brandy and suffered through another night of penance.
Mallory sat sprawled out on the couch with a huge bowl of popcorn balanced on her stomach. Del was in the kitchen making root beer floats. They were watching movies. It was Del’s first weekend off since she entered private practice. She and Mallory almost didn’t know how to behave with such a chunk of time to spend. Mallory opted for home life, a quiet dinner and then a flick.
Del just wanted to be anywhere in the vicinity of Mallory. She always felt like she could never get enough of Mallory’s company, like she was forever being teased with snitches of time between both their schedules. She just wanted to hold Mallory in her arms for an entire evening with neither of them having to rush off somewhere. Kim teased her that she need not worry about becoming suffocated with codependence. “But I want to be suffocated,” Del had whined, thinking she could hardly imagine what that was like.
Suddenly, Mallory clicked the movie off and looked at Del.
“What are we doing?” Mallory asked.
“I thought we were watching a movie?” Del ventured.
“No, tonight we have the whole night together, alone, without interruption, and what are we thinking,” Mallory said, moving closer to Del and pushing her back on the couch. “What’s wrong?” Mallory asked as Del looked suddenly alarmed and confused.
“You’re making me kind of nervous.”
“Don’t you want to?” Mallory said, starting to pull away.
“No, I do. Come here. It’s just so sudden. I need to switch gears, that’s all,” Del said, pulling her in closer.
Mallory kissed her softly and then more ardently. “I have been waiting for this moment for so long,” she said.
“And you’re not scared?” Del asked.
“No,” Mallory said, taking off her shirt and gently lowering her nipple into Del’s eager mouth while she deftly unbuttoned Del’s shirt.
This was nothing like Del had imagined making love would be, slow and sensuous, with the two of them leisurely exploring each other’s bodies, rather it was like an explosion of hormones, lust whipped up into a fervor like a whirling dervish. Clothes coming off, half off, in a singleminded attempt to get inside one another and closer to that diligently sought-after moment of release. Mallory felt Del wrapping closer around her, feeling Del inside and being inside Del and somewhere between the rocking and thrusting a falling sensation took hold.
Saxon Bennett - Talk of the Town Page 18