"Well then, we're just going to have to test you again," announced Cara, jumping up and slamming her hand on the railing.
"How can you do that?" asked Jessica, suddenly hopeful again.
"I don't know yet, but you can be damn sure I'll find out. I can't ask questions in this country without arousing suspicions, but I can ask in Cali. Jody is an attorney. In the ten days that I'll be there, she'll have enough time to get us some answers."
Disappearing into the bedroom, Cara returned with a light afghan and draped it around Jessica's shoulders to ward off the cold evening air. Sitting down beside her, she held her hand as they were slowly engulfed in the descending darkness, no sunset visible in the heavily overcast sky.
Thirty
There was almost nothing Cara could do to alleviate Jessica's suffering during the next two days. "I need to know what I am and who I am," she explained each time Cara tried to comfort her. "How can I love you as much as I do? What's happening to me?"
"Jessica, there's nothing wrong with you. Something is terribly wrong with your Scarpetti records, and I promise I'll find out what it is. Please trust me."
"I'm trying," she said with a heavy heart.
On Wednesday evening, she felt a little more upbeat when they again visited Barbra and Sherry.
"I've made half of my decision about going to Cali," said Barbra, after they had finished the formalities of coffee and cake. "Sherry, why don't you tell our guests what you have told me?"
"I told Mom that I could no longer allow her to remain in the United States because of me. I love her very much," she paused and smiled proudly at Barbra, "but I no longer need a mother to take care of me. At this point, Ms. Ekstrom needs her more than I do, and Mom needs Ms. Ekstrom more than she needs me. They should have the opportunity to grow old together." She winked at Cara. "Mom was worried that she would never see me again if she went to Cali, but," she reached over and picked up a newspaper that was laying on the coffee table, "just as soon as she leaves, I'm going to start using this weapon to make sure that some changes are made in the relationship between our two countries. You can bet your sweet ass that I'm planning to see my mother again."
"Bravo. Well done," said Cara as she reached across and shook Sherry's hand.
"So, my dears, that leaves the decision in the hands—or the slippers, to be more precise—of Miriam Ekstrom." She reached over to Jessica, taking her hands in her own. "And you, dear girl, you know, of course, that if I go to Cali, I will use whatever influence I can to make sure that you come right behind me. Do not fret. I will do my share to persuade the powers that be. I can be very persuasive, you know." She put her hand over her mouth and chuckled in feigned embarrassment.
Later that night, Cara and Jessica made love for the first time since Sunday.
Thirty-One
Thursday was a bittersweet day.
It was the final day of the World Conference on Aging and also the day before Cara was to leave for Cali for the ten-day break until the legislative follow-up to the conference.
As they wrapped up the final hours, the conferees voted to honor Cali's first Director of the Office for the Aging by establishing the Miri Mills Trophy to be presented annually to the conference participant who had made the most significant contribution to the field of aging during the preceding year. Although the first trophy would not be presented until 2056, it was generally acknowledged that Miri's successor, Cara Romero, would have won the award for 2055. For Cara, it was enough to know that the efforts of Miri and the accomplishments of Cali were being recognized.
Celebrating over lunch with the European homosexuals who had presented the proposal for the Miri Mills Trophy, Cara nonchalantly asked, "What is life like for gays and lesbians in your homeland?"
"I've seen great changes," said Liza, the eighty-five-year-old from Denmark, "but it's nothing like Cali. I visited your country several years ago. It is much more free than anything we Danes even dream about. If I were younger, I would emigrate there. Then I wouldn't have to worry when I wink at the young women on the streets."
"Or when you chase them," chuckled one of the Swedish men.
"In Sweden," began the man called Lars, "we enjoy great freedoms, but we are still treated badly by some of the majority. Occasionally, there is still, what they call uh…uh . . ." The young man pulled out his computer translator and labored over it for a few seconds. "Fag bashing," he said, looking at his companion who was still laughing with Liza. "It is not always safe for us on the streets, especially when people have been drinking during holidays. Sven and I argue sometimes about taking risks. He is not always careful."
As the Europeans ate their meals, Cara lapsed into thoughts about something Barbra had said. "Now, dear, I had thought of moving to Sweden so that my loved ones from Cali and the United States could both visit me. Sweden does not discriminate, of course, against Calian passports, which meant the door was open for my Miriam as well as my Sherry. I decided against it, however. It seemed like an awfully complicated way to solve one's problems by arranging it so that you don't live near either of those you love." But, thought Cara, what if Jessica and I both moved to one of the Scandinavian countries? Not desirable, but possible.
When the afternoon session ended early and Tim was not waiting for her in his usual spot, Cara went down to the press office where she found him speaking with Michael Angelico.
"Oh, here comes our girl now," she heard him say as the two men looked in her direction.
"Ms. Romero, I'm honored that you chose to visit this office on your final conference day," said Angelico as he shook her hand. Clearing his throat, he tugged at his shirt collar and straightened his perfectly knotted tie. "I want you to know that it has been a pleasure to be of service to you. And to Mr. Felmar too, of course," he added as he looked at Tim. "You have both made a very good impression upon the Americans. Leona—my sister who sent her son to Cali twelve years ago—watched every one of your television interviews. She is a different woman since you arrived."
"Why, thank you, Mr. Angelico. Those are very nice compliments. On behalf of Tim and myself, I want to thank you for all your hard work and for the wonderful living arrangements you set up for us."
They spoke for a few more minutes, Tim advising Angelico that he would be calling him with their flight plans for the one-week legislative follow-up. The men agreed that the arrival information would be classified confidential to preclude any future problems at the airport.
"I don't think you have to worry about the Olms anymore, Ms Romero," he said as they were about to leave. "In view of your popularity, I am sure they will not do anything to disrupt your visits to this country. When you return, do you think you would prefer to stay at a residential site closer to the conference center? I would be happy to make those arrangements for you."
"No, no, certainly not," she said quickly. "The current arrangements are perfect. I'm much happier being near the water. It keeps me from feeling homesick." Looking directly at her, Tim raised his eyebrows in amusement.
During the limousine trip back to the estate, Cara tried to maintain an upbeat attitude, sharing her thoughts about Europe with Tim.
Tim grimaced in displeasure. "Well, it's a possibility that wouldn't make me very happy. I've gotten used to spending time with you and I wouldn't want to have to go to Denmark to do it. Have you thought about living separately in Cali and the United States and vacationing in Europe together?"
"No," she said quickly. "That's not an acceptable solution for us. Barbra and Sherry Ryan are considering it as a possible way to visit with each other, but Jessica and I need to do more than visit. She is going to live in Cali with me," she said, slapping her hand on her knee as she turned away to look out the window.
After dinner, Jessica led her to the entertainment room. "I have something for you," she said after she checked the console to make sure they were in total privacy. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small box topped with a bright red ribbon.
"That's exquisite," said Cara as she removed a small heart-shaped gold locket, delicately engraved with flowers. "I've never seen anything like this. It's beautiful. I absolutely love it!"
"It's an antique." Reaching over, she took it from Cara's hands and opened it to reveal a tiny black ringlet of hair and a photo of herself. "This kind of locket dates from the 1900s. It's the sort of gift people gave to one another to symbolize the memories they carried in their hearts." With her hands, she cupped Cara's face. "I want you to always carry me in yours."
"Always," said Cara, as she kissed the brimming tears and pulled her close.
Thirty-Two
"Well, you sure don't look good to me," argued Sue as she scrutinized Cara on her home office monitor.
"I'm fine, Mom. Really, I am. I got off the plane less than an hour ago and the trip was exhausting. But I'm feeling wonderful, so you can stop worrying." Scooting Anisette off her lap, she stood up and walked to the window.
"Don't expect me to stop worrying until you come back from that last week in New York."
"By the way, Mora, did you ever hear of a gay bar in the city called Stonehenge?"
"No. Not that I recall. Stonewall maybe, but not Stonehenge. Uh-oh, there goes my office phone. It's probably Tom Feldman. Only Tom gives someone less than two minutes to answer." She switched the incoming call to the hold position. "You know, next year, I think I'm going to start commuting again. This home office plan just isn't working. I spend more time on the phone than on the computer."
"Well, why don't you take Feldman's call? There really is nothing else for me to report. Give Donna a big hug and kiss for me. I'll call again later in the week." Turning off the telephone, she stared at the deep blues of the Pacific and tried not to think about Long Island Sound.
After unpacking her suitcases and putting away the glasses Vanessa had left in the dishwasher, she turned on the phone and called Jody.
"I didn't expect to hear from you until Monday or Tuesday," she-said as Cara's face appeared on the monitor. "Should I tell you how tired you look or would you prefer that I not mention it?"
"Sue already told me. It's not something I need to hear twice. Look, before we go on to pleasantries, please check your calendar to see if we can schedule dinner for tomorrow night."
"I don't need to check. I already know. Saturday night won't work. We're going to Bob and Paul's commitment ceremony."
"Oh," said Cara, a little offended when she realized that she had not been invited. "How about tonight?"
"Tonight?" repeated Jody, her face reflecting her surprise. "I thought you didn't want to see me for a couple of days. Yeah. Sure. Tonight's fine. Just let me check with Margo. I'll call you back if we need to reschedule. Cara, are you okay? You're acting very peculiar." She watched her face, looking for some kind of reaction.
"I'm really fine," she said, running her fingers through her hair.
"No, you're not. I know that gesture all too well. Look, why don't we forget Topanga's. Too many people recognize you there. There's a new Italian restaurant called Dante on State Road Seven, right off Park Boulevard. The food's good and we'll be able to get some privacy."
"Sounds good to me. How about seven thirty?"
"You got it. See you then," said Jody, switching the phone over to "locate" so she could clear it with Margo.
By 7:15, Cara was already seated in a booth sipping a cold glass of Rochambeau Chardonnay. Over and over she rehearsed in her head how she would present the issue of Jessica. She needed to present the problem in a way that would enlist Jody's aid in sorting through the bureaucratic legal maze in which Scarpetti-gene testing was mired. That meant presenting it in an organized, analytical fashion. With Jody, two and two always had to equal four and shades of gray were nonexistent.
"I can't believe you got here before me," said Jody as she leaned over and kissed Cara before taking her seat on the opposite side of the booth. "You must really be in trouble for that to happen."
"Not in trouble. In love." Cara took an exaggerated swallow of wine and awaited Jody's reaction, which was not long in coming.
"Wait a minute. Did I hear you right? Was there another Calian escort besides Jim or Tim or whatever his name was?"
"The attorney I've known and loved would say 'meal first, business later.' Is that still the rule?" she asked as the waiter interrupted with the menus.
"Even I make exceptions in special cases. And this is a special case."
Cara related the story, omitting few details, while they slowly ate their spaghetti with clam sauce. Jody interrupted several times, trying to pin down the specifics of locations and dates. "Jody," Cara finally yelled with uncharacteristic exasperation, "this is not a case of mugging or fraud. It's a love story that revolves around a goddamned gene."
"Okay," said Jody when Cara had finished a few minutes later. "Now it's my turn." Drumming her fingers on the table, she sighed deeply. "Oy, where do I begin?"
"Begin with what you know. Tell me about the law."
"Cara, as you said, this is not a case of mugging or fraud, and I am more than your lawyer—I'm your ex-lover. I'm also your friend. You're going to have to give me a few minutes to digest this and spit it back out." So beautiful and so determined, Jody thought as she watched Cara signal the waiter and order two glasses of Kahlua, Cara forgetting that Jody never drank after dinner. Jody began talking again after the drinks were delivered. "Cara, as your ex-lover, friend, and lawyer, I must say this: there is no Cali in Jessica's future and no future for you with Jessica. Whether you love her or she loves you, it doesn't matter. There's no diplomatic relationship between our two countries. Neither is going to bend on this issue, especially when we are dealing with the daughter of the president of the United—"
"Dear heart," Cara interrupted, reaching across and taking Jody's hand, "I am not going to bend on this either. Giving up Jessica is not one of my options. Nor is it an issue for discussion. So, if that's where you're heading, you can stop right now. All I'm asking is whether it's possible to have Jessica retested for the Scarpetti gene in either Cali or the United States?"
"Damn! You are so bullheaded," Jody said, squeezing Cara's hand warmly before releasing it to take a swallow of the Kahlua she hadn't intended to drink. "Then we have to move on to the lawyer-only stage. In answer to part one of your question, it's not possible for Jessica to be tested in Cali for the Scarpetti gene. Our laws are quite clear and not subject to misinterpretation. Legislation passed in the early 2020s allows us to test for the gene under two circumstances only. We can retest Calians and new emigres whose positive results are subject to question. We can also test children under the age of six, a measure to prevent Calians from trying to raise their own Scarpetti-negative biological'children. In other words, we're only allowed to test those whose positive results may be in error or children under six years old. Legally, Jessica does not meet either of those requirements. She's negative and well past six."
Cara listened intently, not interrupting or commenting, reacting only once when she nodded her understanding of the much-publicized "biologicals ban" law that created the program of random testing for children under the age of six. Fingering the floral engraved locket that hung from a chain around her neck, she asked with urgency, "What about part two of my question? Is there any way that Jessica can be tested a second time in the United States?"
"No. Many years ago, the United States passed a law preventing any citizen from being tested more than once for the Scarpetti gene. The law was promulgated to prevent the harassment of effeminate persons or others thought to be homosexual by the followers of Olmstead. Prior to its passage, the Olms overloaded laboratories by insisting that some people be tested eight or nine times. A suit brought before the Supreme Court resulted in the passage of the first American law that actually struck a blow against their power."
"Can we challenge that law?"
"That would be tough. It's a sacred American law, one that Cali very strongly supported. It could
take months or years of legal haggling."
"Even if the law was challenged on the basis of the fact that the test is being requested by the individual to be tested?"
"Yes. There are no exceptions to the law. That's one of the virtues of its passage. It assured that the Olms could not physically force an individual to request a second test." She swallowed the rest of her drink and looked at her watch, surprised that it was only 9:30. "Your best bet, Cara, is to see if the prime minister will intercede for you and assist you and Jessica by making the request part of the considerations tor strengthening diplomatic relations between the two countries."
Cara, who had been trying to sop up the spaghetti sauce she had spilled on her shirt with a stain-remover wipe, shook her head. "That's not going to happen. We both know Ekstrom. She isn't going to put Cali in the position of being turned down by the United States on an issue regarding homosexuality. I can't ask that of her."
"What then? Relocate to Europe? I sure as hell wouldn't want to see you exercise that option."
"Well, then start preparing your lawsuit. You said it would take months or years of legal haggling, so I suggest you get started in the morning."
Putting her hand on Cara's shoulder, Jody almost regressed to the stuttering of her childhood. "You're…you're…you're kidding me, aren't you?"
"Hell, no. I'm angry," said Cara, gesturing so adamantly she almost knocked down the tray of coffees carried by a passing waiter. "Somehow, Jessica was documented as being Scarpetti-gene negative by the United States. My heart, my head, and this locket tell me she's positive. And I'm asking you to challenge the American laws that keep us from retesting her."
"Damn, you're stubborn," said Jody, taking a long swallow from Cara's glass of Kahlua.
Thirty-Three
"So, how's my favorite secretary?" asked Cara as she bounced up to Esther's desk on Monday, dramatically removing two gift-wrapped packages from her briefcase and placing them on top of the mound of papers and discs in the in-box.
The Meadowlark Sings Page 15