Marianne K. Martin - Love in the Balance

by Marianne K. Martin

  “I thought you were too good to be true.” Kasey pressed her face into the beautiful softness of Connie’s breasts, caressing them with the smoothness of her cheeks.

  At last, with a moan wrenched from her soul, Kasey released her grief from its hold on her. She finally let go, giving up the guilt and destructive emotions that had controlled her for months. Donna and Evonne would not want to have this effect on her life. There was nothing more she could do for them. She resolved to remember them with love and to think about their humor and their smiles whenever the sadness came.

  What she did now had to be for her and the woman in her arms. Her love for Connie had grown day by day. It was time to show her the depths of that love, with hands knowing and tender, with the heat of her mouth, warm against the soft skin, with her lips, against every inch of delicate flesh. She would show her.

  Connie’s slender fingers slipped through the golden hair, grasped Kasey’s head, and pulled her mouth tightly to the softness of her breast. Lips touched the yielding nakedness with increasing excitement. A sigh, long and soft, blended into the most rapturous moan as Kasey stroked and loved the tenderest skin of Connie’s breasts with her tongue. Nipples, taut with desire, were pressed into her mouth. The pleasure it brought was evident in ardent breaths. “Yes, my love, I’ve missed you so.”

  The raspy breathing stirred sensations deep in Kasey and warmed her body throughout. She lifted her face from the softness into eyes charged with desire. They closed with the tilt of her head, as she offered her mouth over the graceful curve of Connie’s throat. Arms tightened around strong shoulders, pressing their need around her. Her body quivered at Connie’s yielding. Trembling limbs, warm with excitement, moved exquisitely against her own. Kasey’s hands lingered over the undulating hips, moving with them, on them, wanting more than she could reach. Connie brought their mouths together with kisses slow and deep, in direct contrast to the growing urgency of their bodies.

  Restraint beyond her now, Kasey pulled them down onto the bed, sliding them together like exact pieces of a puzzle. She wanted this woman with every part of her being, loved her from the deepest part of her soul. Murmurs of desire quickly became gasps of desperate need. Hearts pounded hard against each other, the movements of their hips becoming fierce in demand of satisfaction. The hunger of their mouths, opening deep, tested the edge of their desire, stronger now than when it was new, completely void of reservation. Frantically they reached for each other, bathing themselves in warm, silky wetness. Pleasure expressed itself breathlessly, sounded with unique voices of love and joy, told with quickening gasps how close to ecstasy they were.

  Each touched the other with perfect knowledge of what the other needed. They felt with explicit sensitivity the paralyzing pleasure they were giving. Their bodies opened completely, filling each other with an incandescence as intense as fire at combustion, fanning the coals until they burst into flames. They tendered the flames into a tremendous explosion. Their bodies rocked with equal rapture, lifting sublimely in ecstasy until the spasms of pleasure softened into warm, breathless acquiescence.

  For a long time they remained, mind and body deep inside each other, unwilling to compromise their bond. Finally, Connie spoke softly, whispering from her soul. “You’re part of me. You fill me in the place right next to my soul.”

  “That’s where I’ll always be.”

  Thirty-one

  The signs read:STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL—STRONG ENOUGH TO STAND TRIAL

  OPINIONS ARE LEGAL—MURDER IS NOT

  JUSTICE WEARS A BLINDFOLD.

  They were carried by a crowd of over 250 gays, including only a sprinkling of men. The sight of that many lesbians gathered openly in front of city hall was exhilarating. Sharon was rightfully proud of her efforts.

  The media were there as expected, and they would be for the duration. After all, there was always the possibility of an exciting confrontation to juice things up a bit. And whether they wanted it or not, the interview they got from Evonne’s daughter offered an in-depth emotional look at the personal impact of a hate crime. When she was through, Donna Nichols and Evonne Koch had become more than two lesbians. They were a mother, grandmother, sister and friend, and anyone could relate to them. Their deaths were no longer just the statistics of a hate crime, but heinous, senseless murders, the effects of which were devastating and extended far beyond the gay community.

  When the reporter asked Sharon why they felt it necessary to demonstrate, her reply had been diplomatic but direct. “To be a woman has always meant a struggle for equality, a struggle for visibility under the law. To be a minority woman has meant an even greater struggle. As lesbians, we are minority women, a minority that has always been fearful of the struggle. But after the death of our sisters, we realize that we too must be willing to fight for our rights. If we don’t believe in our worth, how can we expect others to?”

  The reporter, unmoved in his professionalism, asked, “Don’t you trust that the law is going to be exercised properly in this case?”

  “Laws are only words in a book. Unless they are enforced, they are worthless. Throughout history, there have been incidences of discretionary enforcement. We’re trying to make sure that this won’t be another.”

  A lot of homework had gone before her answers, hours of discussion on all possible questions. She had hammered out the most effective replies and memorized them. She had done her job well, as had the others. It left them all with a strong feeling of accomplishment and empowerment. This would make a difference. Maybe not a big difference, and surely not in itself, but it was a start. A good start.

  “Damn, Sharon. You ought to go into politics.” Sage smiled as she rejoined the women on their designated path.

  “Maybe that’s my niche in life.” Sage was in the middle of another compliment when Sharon grabbed her arm. “I don’t believe it!” She was staring out into the parking lot.

  Sage focused her attention in the same direction. “I do.” Emerging from between the parked cars, looking feminine and beautiful and holding hands, were Kasey and Connie. The perfect flowers to complete a very special arrangement. And more important, a very personal decision made. Sharon could contain her excitement no longer. She ran to the edge of the parking lot, where to everyone’s surprise she grabbed Connie, picking her up and twirling her around twice. “You’re wonderful. Wonder ful!” she exclaimed. “How did you do it?”

  “It wasn’t me. She’s ready.”

  Adding to Connie’s amazement, Sharon kissed her on the cheek. “Yes, it was you,” she said, as she allowed Connie’s feet to find ground once again.

  Then with unmistakable emotion, she grabbed Kasey in a tight embrace. She didn’t say a word. But Kasey sensed every bit of her emotion, and it brought tears to her eyes. “Hey,” Kasey said, clearing her throat. “Did we miss your interview?”

  “Yeah,” Sharon returned, wiping her eyes quickly with the back of her hand. “But we can watch it on the news tonight.” There was a happiness in her eyes and her face that Kasey hadn’t seen for quite some time. “We’ll tape the whole coverage at my house tonight, okay?”

  The cameras continued to roll. The couple continued their greetings undaunted. The decision had been made. Society would have their glimpse, however small, of one more facet of lesbianism. And they would be the better for it.

  Thirty-two

  Leaning back in her office chair, Connie stared out the sixth-floor window and reflected on how her life was changing. The world would now have to relate to Kasey and Connie, a lesbian couple. Different, she thought, even from relating to her as an individual gay woman. Each affected the other in decisions, in actions, and reactions. More complicated than she had realized. Challenging was a better word. But as her mother had taught her, anything worth having is worth working for. And work on it she would. She wanted their life together to be as wonderful and fulfilling as it could possibly be. Anything it took to make it so would fall prey to Connie’s logical, systematic efforts
that had begun the day before the demonstration when she decided to ask her boss to lunch.

  They settled at their table, and Jack, to the point as usual, began. “You’ve never asked me to lunch alone before, Connie. I suspect you have something you’d like to talk to me about. Am I right?”

  “Ordinarily, for both personal and professional reasons, I would not put you in the position of having lunch with me alone. You’re right, I need to talk with you. I didn’t know a better time or place to do it.”

  “Stop worrying about how it looks and just tell me what’s on your mind. I should warn you, though, as much as I appreciate your work, I can’t even consider a raise until after the first of the year.” His attention was divided between Connie and the menu.

  “No, it has nothing to do with money. It’s of a more personal nature.” The waitress interrupted to take their orders. She continued, “I’m going to be involved in a demonstration tomorrow that will undoubtedly be covered by the media. I wanted to make you aware of it so that you wouldn’t be surprised if you saw me on the eleven o’clock news.” She watched the familiar brown eyes darting back and forth between coffee preparation and her.

  “Look, Bob has always been very active in the Democratic party, and I’m a staunch Republican. Don’s an active, born-again Christian, and I’m a Catholic. I mean what I’ve said, Connie. Politics and religion are your personal business. As long as it doesn’t affect your work for me, it’s none of my business.” She admired his straight-ahead, direct approach to everything. You always knew where you stood with Jack. It made what she had to do much easier.

  “I know you mean what you said. I’ve never seen you deviate from it. That sense of fairness is one of the things I admire most about you. That’s probably why I feel the need to explain this to you. It wouldn’t be fair of me to put you in a position of being caught off guard if someone else told you before I did.” She wanted to hurry and ease the puzzled look on Jack’s face, but she had to wait while they were served.

  As the waitress turned to leave, Jack impatiently asked, “Is this an abortion clinic demonstration that could get ugly or something?” He was no doubt envisioning bailing her out of jail in the wee hours of the morning. The possibility made her smile.

  “No.” Her thoughts returned to their purpose. “It has to do with demanding that the man who killed two women a few months ago be held over for trial.”

  “Right. I remember. I haven’t heard anything more about that.” There was noticeable relief in his posture. He delved into his sandwich.

  “Exactly. It’s possible that he may not be charged, or that lawyers will plea-bargain it down to therapy.”

  He spoke between bites. Connie nibbled. “How can that happen? I thought there was a witness.”

  “There was. His lawyer is claiming that he was provoked by their lifestyle. That his strict Christian morals were pushed to the edge. Observing their sinfulness day after day drove him insane. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from news reports.”

  “Mmm, that’s right. They were lesbians, weren’t they?” His coffee cup stopped momentarily before it reached his lips. “How did you get so involved in this?”

  “I knew the two women. Remember the personal day I took? I went to their funeral.” She wondered if she needed to go farther. His face registered no connection. While the courage remained, she added, “Except for family members, probably everyone at the demonstration will be gay.” She felt an instantaneous relief for having followed through.

  Jack put his sandwich down, wiped his mouth with the napkin, and leaned back in his chair. He chewed his last bite of food while staring into Connie’s unyielding eyes. The information was computing. Finally, with eyes equally unyielding, he asked, “You’re a lesbian?” Connie nodded. “Since when?” His mind was probably searching for the last time he had seen her with Greg.

  “Probably all of my life. I finally realized it when I fell in love with a woman.”

  There was a look of total bewilderment on his face as Jack struggled to understand. “Look, tell me if I’m out of line, but you’re a remarkablelooking woman, with a mind and personality to match. You could have any man you wanted. Why would you want to be a lesbian?”

  “It certainly isn’t something I planned, nor is it a choice—that is, if I want to be happy. I fell in love with a very talented, loving, wonderful person who loves me more than I can fathom. That person just happens to be a woman. I have never, ever been this happy. I only wish other people in my life could understand and share my happiness.”

  His eyes remained riveted on hers. A slight nod of his head indicated his acknowledgment. “This must be one helluva woman.”

  Her smile said as much as her words. “She sang at the open house with Tom.”

  His expression, however subtle, showed more surprise than she had ever seen from Jack. “Now you have blown my mind. That’s about as far away from a man ...” There was a pause as Jack thoughtfully sipped his coffee. Connie wondered if there would be more questions. “Despite knowing how much Shirley and I like you, it must have been a tough decision to tell me something so personal.”

  “It was,” she admitted. “I even questioned why I felt it necessary. But unfortunately, what gay people do in their bedrooms can affect their jobs.”

  “But if this were about a man, it wouldn’t matter. You never would have felt compelled to tell me about it.” He watched Connie nod. “You certainly never felt you had to tell me about your personal life with Greg.”

  “Not any more than you would offer personal information to a business associate.”

  “I’m sorry it’s like that, Connie. Maybe things will change. There is a lot more acceptance for alternate lifestyles now than there was even five years ago.” She sensed an almost parental concern. She studied the lines of his face. He was concerned. He was trying to reassure himself that maybe her life wouldn’t have to be difficult and complicated just because she fell in love with a woman. Beneath his efficiency and unemotional approach to life was a caring sincerity.

  “Things would certainly change a lot faster if there were more people like you. I really appreciate your open-mindedness and your fairness. Not everyone is lucky enough to work for someone like you.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t take all the credit for that. My mother worked hard, alone, to raise a good boy. I’ve always wanted her to be proud of the man I grew into.”

  “I’m sure she is.” Her smile lightened the mood considerably. “Does this mean I still have a job Monday morning?”

  Jack smiled and glanced at his watch. “Not unless you’re back to work in fifteen minutes.”

  Thirty-three

  “What do you think our chances are for first degree?” Kasey asked, claiming the seat next to Sharon in the lobby of the county building.

  “I’d like to say real good, but the truth is, I don’t have a clue. Haskin isn’t even making any predictions, and he’s read a lot of juries in his career.”

  “I’ll sure be glad when this is over.” Kasey sipped water from a paper cup. “I give you a lot of credit, lady. You did an awful lot of work organizing people and keeping them focused and informed.”

  “There’s really no way of knowing how much effect we actually had, but it proved to be great therapy for me. I really needed something important to keep me busy; something I could dedicate my thoughts and efforts to. I think it’s kept me sane. I don’t think you realize how valuable it is to have someone to go home to, someone who’s always there for you, to take your mind off things.”

  “Yes, I do. I even encouraged Sage to stay with you when she was worried about overstaying her welcome.”

  “You did? I am glad she stayed. She’s not there as much as a lover would be, but she’s been a great help.”

  “Anybody for gum?” Jenny offered as she joined them. “What do you think about the defense not putting the old man on the stand?”

  “Smart move,” answered Sharon. “Haskin would have pu
shed his buttons up there. The jury would have seen firsthand what an illmannered, egotistical bigot looks like. They had to try to protect the image they were trying to sell.”

  Jenny leaned her head back against the wall. “The conservative Christian, tormented daily by the image of a sinful lifestyle. I thought I would throw up. How could a jury possibly swallow that when they heard three different witnesses testify to three separate unprovoked threats?”

  “Not being able to produce more than one favorable character witness couldn’t have helped their case much, either,” noted Kasey.

  “They’re relying pretty heavily on their professional witnesses. Their psychologists had to convince the jury that consistently witnessing what he conceived as sinfulness could suddenly push him over the edge,” Sharon explained.

  “A concept that assumes the jurors believe he’s a kind and virtuous person,” added Kasey. “Did he kill out of hatred, or out of a disturbed sense of righteousness?”

  Sharon nodded in agreement. “It comes down to twelve people, who don’t know anyone involved, making a decision they can live with.”

  “It’s hard for me to look at it with any objectivity.” Jenny’s face was drawn, her eyes tired. “I couldn’t believe how much psychology was involved, even in seating the jury. Whom do you dismiss, whom do you keep? Jurors we were confident with were dismissed by the defense. The questions were geared to weed out gays, families of gays, feminists, and anyone who’s lost someone to violence. And Haskin was trying to avoid seating older men, Republicans, and anyone raised south of Ohio. It all seems like a chancy guessing game.”