by Randy Salem
Cleo's hand cupped her chin. "You do not want to make love to me," she said accusingly, but gently.
Lee shook her hands against the confining hands. "I do," she lied. "The clam juice just came up to say hello."
"Then hold me," Cleo said. "It is all right."
With infinite relief, Lee took the woman in her arms and held her close, letting her hand circle on Cleo's back. If she could only lie like this, feeling the warmth of Cleo without the lust of her, it would be just fine. In a few moments, she would be asleep. And in sleep, nothing could hurt her. Nothing...
But she should have known better. Cleo was predictable that way. She felt the warmth become feverish. Felt Cleo's body moving in on her, pressing up against her. Not hard, but with insistence. Demanding that Lee want her, just as she demanded that Lee love her.
"Lee..." Cleo murmured.
It sounded almost like a prayer.
Lee rolled to her, burying her face against Cleo's neck. Maybe, if she didn't look... Maybe, if she didn't think about it...
The breath fizzled out of her and she knew it was no good. She could not make love to Cleo tonight if her life depended on it. And, in a way, it did.
Cleo was crying against her shoulder, the tears soaking hotly through Lee's blouse.
"I'm sorry," Lee whispered, her cheeks hot with shame. "I..."
"You do not want me," Cleo said bitterly. She pushed away from Lee and hung on the edge of the couch. "I knew it last night, when you did not come to me. I knew it tonight, when you walked in the door."
"Don't be silly," Lee tried to soothe her. "I wouldn't be here if—"
"You would be here for many reasons," Cleo said sharply. "You would be here because you want someone you cannot have."
It was like a barbed dart straight through her heart. She waited for Cleo to yank it out again and leave her to bleed to death.
"Do you think I do not know why you have wrinkles in your forehead?" Cleo went on. "They speak very clearly to a woman. They say that you are in love with someone, but you are running away."
Lee lay very quiet, listening to Cleo's words, but not really hearing the words. Cleo was not raucous or coarse as Helga had been. But she was just as observant. Lee wondered vaguely if she were as transparent to Maggie as she was to these two.
"Why are you running away?" Cleo asked quietly.
For a long moment, Lee was silent. Then she sighed. "If I told you, you'd laugh in my face," she said lightly.
"I will not laugh," Cleo said seriously. "I like you too well."
Lee peered at her curiously for a moment. Then she said, "Am I supposed to believe that?"
"That I like you?"
"Uh-huh."
"But I do," Cleo said. Then she laughed. "Not like I would love a man, that is true. But as I would love a child I think. I have said you are like a little boy. And it is so. You are trying to be like me, running and looking and pretending you do not want anything but excitement. For me, it is true. But for you, it is a lie."
"Which means what?" Lee said angrily.
"That you are fooling yourself. That you want someone to put a collar around your neck and lead you home." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Lee's forehead. "You want a woman to be a wife to you, Lee," she said solemnly. "Not a toy."
Lee sat up on the edge of the couch, very carefully avoiding Cleo's glance. "If you're such a damned authority on what I want," she growled, "why the hell am I so miserable with you?"
Cleo's laugh tinkled through the room. Lee waited, fiddling with the buttons on her blouse. "I did not mean to laugh," Cleo murmured. "But you are a fool, Lee. You should not have come to me, when you wanted to be with someone else. You should have gone to her."
It was Lee's turn to laugh now. It was a bitter, rasping sound in her ears. Cleo made it sound so simple. Like all she had to do was go home and find Maggie and tell her that...
All of a sudden, she smiled and a warm glow of peace began to filter through her nerve-racked body. She turned to Cleo then and kissed her full on the mouth.
"You are smiling," Cleo observed. "For a change, I have said something right."
"You have indeed," Lee grinned. She stood up quickly and began to straighten the rumpled mess of her clothes.
"Then we are saying good bye," Cleo murmured sadly.
The question brought Lee up short. For a moment, she turned it over in her mind curiously. She knew she would not care if she never saw Cleo again. She also knew that on Sunday, Maggie would still be marrying Pieter... no matter what happened between them tonight.
She turned to look down at the girl. "No, not good-by," she said slowly.
"You still want me?" Cleo said incredulously.
"I still need you," Lee said simply. "Will that do?"
Cleo nodded. "It means even more than to be wanted." She touched Lee's hand. "When will I see you?"
"Soon," Lee said. "I have to take care of something I should have done a long time ago. But I'll be back." She paused. "And you might as well be packed and ready to go."
Sadly, Cleo shook her head. "You do not make any sense," she said gently. "You do not make any sense at all."
Lee retrieved her jacket and slid into it quickly. "I do," she said, "but not the kind you would understand."
She left Cleo gaping after her and slammed out of the apartment. She went down the steps by threes and burst out into the warm quiet of night. It was past midnight and dark with a feeling of more rain in the air. And she needed the darkness and the damp, needed to be alone with herself, to think and to walk. To breathe and to pull the pieces of herself back together again.
She headed the car crosstown, away from home, wanting the river and the blinking of lights on water. There, she always found peace, when there was no peace anywhere else in the world. There, she could turn off Cleo and Helga and the long parade of females that had preceded them. There, she could think about Maggie and maybe, if she were lucky, she would know what to do.
She lit a cigarette and watched the smoke curl past her head to drift out over the river. Bathed in the stream of Cleo's words, she had felt so sure of herself. And so sure of Maggie. It made sense, then, that they could be adults about the whole thing. Take whatever hours of pleasure they could find together, then move on to the lives Kate had predestined for them without sorrow and without regret. She wasn't at all sure she could be so flip about it herself, but she was willing to try. It would be worth a lifetime of nothing-after to spend one night with Maggie. It really would. After all, there had not really been anything before.
But it was for Maggie that she was afraid. Maggie, who would have to move from her bed into Pieter's. Maggie, who needed love and gentleness. Maggie, who loved her...
She would rather die than do anything to hurt Maggie. She would rather die than live with the thought of Maggie, miserable and frustrated with Pieter, remembering a moment's joy...
And yet, why not? Better, Lee tried very hard to convince herself, to have the memory of one perfect moment than to have no memories at all. Better for Maggie... and better for herself.
Disgustedly, she flipped the cigarette over the railing into the breeze. Who was she to decide what was good for Maggie? And heaven knows, she had never been particularly smart about what was good for herself. If she had any sense, she would just leave the girl alone— avoid trouble by not starting it. If she had any sense, she would hop a plane for Europe and just get lost.
If she had any sense...
Glumly, Lee lit another cigarette and stared out at the water.
CHAPTER NINE
At three o'clock, Lee finally decided it would be safe to go home.
It was a warm night—clear, with stars sparkling so close she felt she could reach out a hand and touch them. Around her, lovers still huddled together on benches. It was spring, the season for love, the season for benches. But none of it touched her now. Her body felt dragged out and smoked out and weary beyond words. For hours she had toyed with the idea... to do or not t
o do. Knowing that she wanted to, yet knowing that she did not really believe that it was right. She had had too many one-night stands in her life, knew too well the subtle damage they could do. She could not do that to Maggie, not even in the name of love.
But by now the girl would surely be asleep. And in the morning there would be work to do. Busy work, to keep both of them distracted and occupied.
She parked the car and strolled along the quiet street, wondering how many years it would be before she felt sleepy again. She had not slept soundly since the knowledge of what she felt for Maggie had begun to niggle at her brain. Now, she was filled with a wild restlessness. It was as if she would never again find a place for herself.
As she neared the house, her eyes automatically followed a line up to the top floor.
Maggie, apparently, was as restless as she. Lee stopped in the shadow of a tree, staring up at the lighted windows. As she watched, Maggie's shadow moved across the light, then her face appeared against the pane. Lee could not see her clearly. Yet she knew instinctively that Maggie was looking for her—just as she had looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of Maggie.
And she knew that she should keep right on walking, straight across town and into the Hudson River. Away from Maggie, as fast as her legs could carry her.
But her steps turned toward the house and she hurried a little. Suddenly not tired any more. Wanting Maggie and needing her and not caring now about right or wrong or about anything else. They had so little time...
So little time. But time enough. Time enough for her to do it right, to pay court like a gentleman, to woo Maggie a little. To pretend that tomorrow was only tomorrow and not the end of the world.
She went through to the kitchen and made a pot of cocoa, because she knew that Maggie liked cocoa before she went to sleep. She fixed the tray neatly, as Maggie would have fixed it, with white cups and crisp linen napkins. She cocked her head to look at it, then went out to the garden for a bright red tulip. When she was satisfied with the effect, she lifted the tray carefully and went out to wind her way up the steps to the fourth floor.
She balanced the tray securely on one palm while she tapped at the door.
Instantly Maggie called, "Come in."
The pleasure in Maggie's voice told Lee everything she had never wanted to know. Gingerly she turned the knob and pushed her way inside.
Maggie—in soft, clinging, baby-blue pajamas—jumped up instantly to take the tray. Lee watched as she moved to set it down on a low table near the bed. It was the first time since they were kids that she had seen Maggie in anything less than full battle dress. And Maggie in pajamas was the sexiest thing she had ever laid eyes on.
"I didn't hear you come in," Maggie said in a tone that admitted she had been listening. She poured a cup for each of them and handed one to Lee.
Lee sat down with her cup into one of Maggie's black leather sling chairs. "I've only been here a few minutes," she said. "I saw your light on when I came in, so..."
"I'm glad you did," Maggie said. She sat down on the edge of the bed and balanced the cup on her knee. "I couldn't sleep, for some reason. I guess I'm just so upset that..." Her voice trailed away into silence.
Lee tilted her head and peered at the girl curiously. Something was biting Miss Maggie. And Lee had a feeling it had nothing to do with her.
"About what?" Lee said.
Maggie took a sip of the hot cocoa and glanced at Lee over the rim of the cup.
There was fear in Maggie's eyes. Fear, and other things that Lee could not quite define. Suddenly she knew that something had gone all wrong. That Maggie would be leaving her even before she had expected. "Is it Kate?" Lee said gently.
Maggie sighed. "In a way," she said. "Daddy called tonight and said we have to be at Ravensway tomorrow afternoon. Something about papers and a financial settlement. I don't really know what she wants. But anyhow, Pieter and Trudel will be there too. Daddy says Kate wants me to move in tomorrow so I can begin to get used to the idea. But from the way Daddy said it, I have an idea that Pieter must have said something to Kate about... well, you know, Lee."
Lee heard her cup rattle in its saucer. Very carefully, she leaned across to the table and set it down.
"I'm so sorry, Lee," Maggie whispered.
"The dumb son of a bitch," Lee said incredulously. "What in the hell did he think he could gain by doing that?"
"Trudel," Maggie said simply. Lee stared at her.
Maggie shrugged. "Daddy says Kate turned you down about Trudel. Supposedly because she thinks Trudel isn't bright enough for the job. But I think it must have been because..."
"That figures,” Lee interrupted bitterly. She thought for a moment, then said, "But I'm not so sure. There must be something else Pieter wants."
"What?"
Something clicked over in the back of Lee's mind, but not quite loudly enough to catch her attention. She shook her head. "Damned if I know," she admitted. "Did you say you'd move out there tomorrow?"
"Did I have a choice?"
Maggie looked very tired, worn down by her nerves to a fine edge of misery. Anxiously, Lee searched her face, looking for some clue, some little sign...
Maggie set down her cup and leaned back on the bed. "I guess that's it," she said numbly.
"You guess what's what?" Lee said.
Maggie sighed. "It seemed so far away this morning. Now, it seems like... like there's no time at all."
In her heart, Lee smiled. "No time for what?" she prodded gently.
Maggie's hand reached out to the teddy bear propped against the pillows and pulled it close. "No time to be happy," she said. "Tomorrow I'll be all signed away and paid for. I feel like an antique put up for auction."
Lee laughed softly. "Baby," she said, "I only wish you were. I could have outbid Pieter any day."
She watched Maggie's eyes turn to look at her and she waited. It was out in the open now, where it should have been a long time ago. And it was Maggie's move. Maggie's choice, to welcome her or to send her away.
Maggie did neither. She merely smiled at the teddy bear and said, "Would you have?"
Lee didn't like the sound of it. Not one little bit. Something about Maggie's tone called Lee a couple of dirty names. She looked at the girl curiously, a little annoyed with herself and not quite knowing what to do.
"Well?" Maggie said.
"Well, you just ran me up a tree," Lee said edgily. "So either give me a ladder or saw off the limb, will you?
Maggie looked at her squarely. She was not smiling now. "Do you know something, Lee Van Tassel?" she said, her voice tight. "I'm in love with you. I think I must have been born in love with you."
Lee felt a little of the tension begin to ebb out of her spine. She leaned forward in her chair. Then she looked into Maggie's eyes and the tension edged back.
"I must have been out of my mind," Maggie said bitterly.
"Why?" Lee blurted. But in her heart she knew why. for she realized that Maggie could not possibly know how she felt. That she had never given Maggie any reason to understand it. For months she had done nothing but run around, done nothing but tell Maggie that she wanted to be free, that she would not be tied down. How could Maggie know that this had changed?
"Because you've never loved anything in your life," Maggie said. "You're afraid to love anything. You're afraid to trust anything. And it's Kate's fault and I hate her."
The blasphemy fell harsh on Lee's ears. She felt the blood leave her face, her arms, and plummet into her stomach. "What the hell are you talking about?" she said, her voice low and harsh. "Kate's got nothing to do with—"
"Oh, hasn't she?" Maggie interrupted. "I know what Kate's drummed into you since you were a baby, Lee. Don't ever depend on anybody for anything. Build your own empire with your own two hands... just like she built hers. Don't love anything because you’ll learn to need it and then you're lost. Be a self-made woman, Lee. Don't..."
Maggie's harsh, bitter words were not new to Lee
's ears. She had said them to herself often, unconsciously mimicking the thesis by which Kate lived. Unconsciously accepting Kate's way as the right way. Until Maggie had begun to get under her skin, she had believed that Kate could do no wrong. And until this moment, she had never questioned Kate's authority.
"Stop it," Lee spat. "Stop it."
Maggie laughed mirthlessly. "Is it too much for you, Lee? Does it hurt, because it's true?"
Lee took a deep breath and held onto it. She could not tell Maggie... not even Maggie... the things she was thinking about Kate. About Kate making puppets of them all, pulling the strings that controlled their lives. She could not tell Maggie, because she had no answer. She could not fight Kate and possibly hope to win. Slowly, she exhaled and in her frustration, hit a fist against one knee.
"Well," Maggie said with satisfaction, "somewhere a light dawns in your thick skull."
Lee had had just about enough. Enough of Kate, enough of the whole damned family. What she had to say to Maggie had nothing to do with any of them. It was private, just for the two of them. And they had so little time...
"Would you like to know something, genius?" Lee said softly.
Maggie hugged the teddy bear in both arms. "What?" she said against its fur.
"You think you're so precious smart. Did it ever occur to you that you might be wrong for once in your life?"
"About you?" Maggie laughed. "I doubt it. You'd still rather buy me at an auction than fall in love with me."
"My God," Lee breathed, her cheeks stinging from the force of the verbal blow. She got up and came to stand beside the bed. "Is that really what you think?"
"Well, didn't you just say so yourself?" Maggie complained. "What's any different about that than sending orchids and chocolates to Helga?"
Lee sat down on the edge of the bed, but she made no move to touch the girl. "I apologize for that," she said quietly. "And you're quite right. I am used to buying women, in one way or another. But that's not what I meant about you, Maggie." She smiled ruefully. "It so happens I was making a pass at you. A clumsy one, obviously."
Maggie buried her face against the teddy bear's belly.