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Substitute for Love

Page 23

by Karin Kallmaker


  “You said your daughter wasn’t going to be a biological error,” she reminded him.

  He sighed. “I admit that. I don’t believe it anymore. But neither will you be a detraction from the Putnam family name.”

  “I get it,” Reyna said sarcastically. “I’m no longer diseased, but I am still a freak. Do you know what being a Putnam has turned me into? Do you have any idea?” She threw the broken pieces of the pencil on the desk. She knew she was going the way of the pencil and there was no holding back. “I’ve done everything you asked, and I lived with the detectives watching me, endured never being really free to do anything without wondering what it might cost someone I loved. I let you blackmail me with my mother’s illness and I hate you for it. I hate myself for ever agreeing. I should have just exposed you —”

  “There was no blackmail, just a clear understanding of actions and consequences.”

  She choked and then cleared her throat. “But instead I did what you wanted because I love my mother, and yet I’m sitting here wondering when she’s going to die. Do you understand? I don’t want her to die but I wonder when it’ll happen.” She pressed her hands to her stomach. “When it does I’ll tell you to go to hell. When it does I won’t be a Putnam anymore, not for any price you might put on it. You’ve made me look forward to a time after my mother dies, you bastard.”

  “Reyna, calm down!”

  “I can’t!” She pressed her hands to her eyes. “And now you tell me that I still have no choice — no dating unless they’re with men you have preselected. Nothing changes for me except that I no longer help people persecute people like me.

  “When you calm down and think it over, you’ll realize how much is at stake—”

  “What do you want, Father? Do you want the media to report about a daughter who is queer or one in a mental institution? Do you want a daughter you can be proud of because she’s happy and at peace with who she is, or no daughter at all? Would you really prefer that I be dead to you rather than be gay? Because I’m always going to be gay”

  His eyes had narrowed. “As far as I know, you haven’t been with anyone since that unfortunate incident at Georgetown. Or have you?”

  She was too irrational not to panic. “It doesn’t take practice to know that I am still gay.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “No! You can have people watching me every minute, you can tap my phone and screen my e-mail, but that doesn’t mean I’ll answer your questions.” She struggled to her feet, feeling like a hundred pounds was strapped to her shoulders. After the initial schism, the summit had been a huge success for her father. She had thought the summons today had been to thank her and let her know that her cage door was finally open. But he wasn’t even going to take the current copout for certain highly placed Republicans and say that his daughter’s sexuality was a private, family matter. Her sexuality was to remain invisible.

  “You have always made things so difficult.”

  “When you were sleeping with my mother, when you got her pregnant, were you just thinking you had a right to do it? An extramarital affair, and bastard child — okay for you as long as you said ‘sorry’ afterward. But I can’t have any kind of affair. I get to be Caesar’s wife, but never Caesar.”

  “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

  “Good.”

  She turned on her heel and walked out. Paul didn’t look up as she passed his desk. She didn’t have any compassion left for him, not right now. The fight with her father had lost her all hope of Holly and all that Holly represented. Nothing had changed.

  She ran out into the twilight and wanted to keep going. She remembered the fantasy of taking Holly to Mexico. Holly, a woman she knew nothing about. A mystery that could be so much more.

  She drove toward home, but passed it by, winding into the canyon, then out again. She didn’t know where to go, how to start over. She had thought the cage was open and had let her mind fly free. Tonight at eleven she had been going to tell Holly who she was, suggest they go back to her place to talk and make love and talk, and wake up in the morning to a tomorrow full of promise.

  But the cage door was still locked and she didn’t know how to cope. How could she be with Holly tonight and then walk away?

  Her cell phone chirped. She almost didn’t answer it.

  “Reyna, it’s not serious, but we’re at ICU again. Can you come?” Jean’s steadiness beat back the panic Reyna had felt when she had first heard her voice.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She quickly turned in the direction of the hospital and made herself forget about everything else for a while.

  In his usual careful way, Dr. Basu explained what had happened, but Reyna was having trouble taking anything in. Her mother was not in any danger, but the episode only proved she was getting worse. How could two opposite things be true at the same time?

  “It’s an electrolyte and sodium imbalance. It’s not life-threatening. But the stress it causes her system is so extreme that her other conditions are escalated. The imbalances are then more pronounced, adding to the systemic stress.”

  “Okay,” Reyna said. “I guess I understand. She’s having these little problems, and they’re not the real danger.”

  “Right. It’s her kidneys most of all, as we’ve known for some time. I’m going to order another functionality test—”

  “Do you have to? It’s so painful for her.”

  “I don’t think I have a choice,”,he said, not unkindly. “I think we’re in final stage. But this stage can be quite long with proper treatment, and she gets that.”

  “I just wish we could do something about the pain.”

  “We’re learning more every day. But something that short-circuits the most important safety feature in the human body — the nerves that say ouch, stop, pain is bad — that doesn’t also turn off consciousness is a long way away. I wish there was more I could do.”

  “I know,” Reyna assured him. “You probably feel more helpless than I do.”

  He regarded her in his gentle, professional way. The lilt of his New Delhi accent had always soothed her. “Speaking of you, when was the last time you saw your own physician?”

  “Why? I thought lupus wasn’t —”

  “No, I’m not implying that there is something you should be watching for. But I have eyes, and you don’t look well. I am guessing it’s stress, and you appear to have much stronger coping mechanism than your mother, but we all have limits. How much weight have you lost in the last six months?”

  “I forget to eat,” Reyna admitted. “I’ll try to do better.”

  “I’m just recommending that you take better care of yourself. You can’t help anyone if you’re ill.”

  “Thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.” You’re not unbreakable, you know that, she told herself. Maybe your father doesn’t, but if you do have a mental or physical breakdown, he wins. That is not a choice.

  She sat with her mother for an hour, watching her sleep and feeling all the while as if she was drowning. She had to leave before her mother woke up. She had led her to believe that some sort of happy ending was in the offing, but that wasn’t the case. One look at her drawn face and her mother would want to know what was wrong.

  She showered and changed at home, pulling on black jeans and a thin white shirt. The black leather jacket accentuated her pallor, but it was part of her shield. She couldn’t stay with Holly tonight, but she wasn’t going to leave Holly sitting in the parking lot, wondering why she didn’t show. She knew there could not be a tomorrow. Easier, then, if there was no tonight, either. Her mind knew it, even her body seemed to know it. Only her heart didn’t believe it, and her heart, so far, was never right.

  It was a quarter to eleven, and Holly resisted the urge to check her watch. She sat in the dark of the motel parking lot reliving the final confrontation with her aunt and telling herself she did not want Reyna.

  In the end, her aunt had told her nothing she did not alread
y know. She had denied keeping the messages from Mr. Frazier from her.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I have a bridge game in half an hour, so if that’s all you wanted to know…”

  “There’s more,” Holly said stubbornly. “I know everything now.”

  “I’m sure whatever it is you’ve decided, it’s my fault. You’ve been blaming me for everything lately.”

  “You aren’t to blame for everything. You didn’t rape my mother, you just married the rapist and made me call him my uncle.”

  Her aunt turned so pale that it looked like she would faint. Holly found it hard to care, in that moment; then, when her aunt’s pallor didn’t improve, she fetched a glass of water.

  She set it within reach and said, “I told you I know everything. I just can’t fathom why you did it.”

  “I did it for you. Where do you think the money to pay for college came from? You were owed something, and I got it for you.”

  “Wonderful,” Holly said sarcastically. “Do you expect me to be grateful?”

  “He made a mistake, but your mother drove him to it. She drove me to it — she thought only of herself.”

  “I won’t listen to this. I only wanted to know the truth. I didn’t want to believe that you knew exactly what you were doing when you married him, but you did. Fine. I won’t see you again. I can’t.”

  “This was her fault. She refused to behave in a decent manner. People were whispering all the while we were growing up, and it was always on me to be the normal one. It wasn’t enough for her, she had to make men want her anyway —”

  It had been too much to bear, and Holly had left without another word, leaving her aunt alone, which was what she had always seemed to want. There was no resolution to be had, and no amount of arguing would change the reality her aunt had constructed to justify her actions.

  Headlights swept over her, but it was a car that pulled into the parking lot. She illuminated her watch — ten more minutes.

  You can’t want her, not knowing what she is. You’re here to tell her, no more. A quick Web search had found her numerous links about Grip Putnam, many of them unflattering. There were also a few news articles that mentioned his daughter’s role in the Putnam Institute. More recently there was a gossip item connecting Reyna with Jake Graham, another conservative scion of a political family.

  She would say, just like Galina had, that she didn’t fuck straight women. That was what she would say.

  She heard the muted rumble of the motorcycle before she saw it, and the sound made her remember the feel of it between her legs a week ago, when she had felt as if her body was fused to Reyna’s.

  She got out of the car and waited. She tipped her head back to look at Reyna while she took off her helmet. The poor motel parking lot light was still sufficient to illuminate Reyna’s eyes.

  Reyna seemed to want to say something, and the words Holly knew she should utter were in her mouth, too. Then Reyna dropped her helmet and took Holly’s face in her hands.

  Hard, raw want coursed through her because her body didn’t know better. But her mind knew she should pull away. She had rewritten her life in the last month, but some parts of her had not changed. She had only contempt for what Reyna represented, and so she could not go to bed with her, not again.

  She tipped her head back with a low whimper as she opened her mouth to Reyna. She was washed with desire and conflict, voices in her head screaming at her to push Reyna away. All the while her heart pounded with an escalating passion that made her arch hard against Reyna’s thigh. She had conflicting answers to the same equation. She bit Reyna’s lower lip even as the part of her that saw the world as a puzzle reminded her of a simple axiom. If statements that ought to be equal are in conflict, then there isn’t enough information for a solution.

  It was a thinly veiled rationalization, she knew, but it was enough. She clutched Reyna to her, saying yes and yes again. The car was unyielding and cold at her back. Reyna was all heat and fierceness. Between the two extremes Holly felt far too pliant, but she waited in the dark while Reyna went to get a room.

  She was going into the motel room to gather more information, she told herself, lying through her teeth and not caring. There could be no future, she thought, because her foolishness would have a price. But at least they would have tonight.

  She was the one who turned on the bathroom light, then closed the door almost all the way, giving Reyna enough illumination to watch as Holly undressed. Reyna seemed frozen in place when Holly went to her, naked again. Reyna was still dressed, including her jacket, and appeared poised to run for the door. But her gaze never left Holly and Holly knew Reyna would not go, not yet.

  Reyna drew in a shuddering breath. “I only came here to tell you I couldn’t stay.”

  “So did I,” Holly admitted. She drew Reyna’s hand to her ribs and shivered when fingertips grazed her nipples a moment later. “But I want this.”

  “So do I. I’m sorry — it has to be this way.”

  Holly almost said that she knew who Reyna was, but Reyna was kissing her shoulders, then her neck, and Holly felt the deep stirrings of arousal just as she had before. She would not be this woman’s lesbian plaything. She wanted to say no, but there was only yes in her. She wound her hands under Reyna’s jacket, thrilled by the feel of Reyna’s clothing against her hungry skin. Reyna asked, she said yes, and she was on the bed. Reyna’s mouth was on her, Reyna was inside her, and she begged for more. Hated herself and begged for more.

  They came to a rest at last at the foot of the bed. Reyna stretched over Holly for a lingering, deep kiss. She told herself that this shouldn’t have happened, but every part of her was rejoicing that it had. She put her head on Holly’s shoulder and rested. Everything she had learned last week had come back to her. Every place she stroked and licked had been familiar and longed for.

  Holly jerked. “Something’s scratching me.”

  Reyna raised herself to see that the zipper of her jacket was responsible.

  “Take off your jacket,” Holly whispered.

  Her. head felt hot. She knew what Holly wanted and hadn’t realized that keeping her clothes on had been an unconscious attempt to maintain some distance. If she felt Holly’s skin against her she’d never give it up.

  Holly pushed her over on her back and her hands went to the buttons of Reyna’s blouse. “As sexy as I seem to find it, you’re not keeping your clothes on this time.”

  Reyna said, “No.” She trapped Holly’s hands in hers. “I can’t stay.”

  Holly pulled away and sat up, her face turned from the light. Her voice was harsh and distant. “You can’t stay, or you’re just done?”

  “I can’t stay.” Reyna’s fingers went to her blouse and it took all her will not to unbutton it.

  Holly’s voice took on an edge of anger. “I don’t understand all the nuances of this yet. Is it that you’re not a lesbian if all you do is fuck me? But I can’t fuck you because that would make you gay, too?”

  Reyna wanted Holly’s hand back on her. She could not stay. “No, no, that’s not it.”

  More gently, Holly asked, “Then what?”

  “I can’t explain. But I can’t see you again. I only came here to tell you that.”

  Holly turned her face back to the light, but her eyes were dark and unreadable. “And I led you astray.”

  “No,” Reyna said quickly. “No. I wanted to do that. I told myself I couldn’t, but I knew all along I would, if you said yes.”

  “And you think you can leave now?” Holly leaned over her. “I don’t understand why you have to go, but you promised me that you would make love to me, and we’re not through.”

  Reyna’s mouth parted when Holly straddled her lap. “What do you want me to do?” She had to swallow to be able to speak. “I’ll do it.”

  Holly murmured, “I want you to make love to my hands with your body. My fingers need to touch you.”

  Reyna shivered, but this
time she didn’t stop Holly when she went to unbutton her blouse.

  “I want you to make love to my mouth with your skin.” Holly kissed Reyna’s jaw, then trailed her tongue down Reyna’s throat. “Let me know all of you.”

  “Last week, you were enough. It’s not that I didn’t want you to. I didn’t need it.” Her words were staccato, punctuated by short, hard breaths.

  “Do you need it now?”

  Reyna had to close her eyes. “Yes.” The word tore through her. Her shirt was open and she felt Holly’s naked breasts against her stomach. She had what she wanted and felt utterly lost. She whimpered when Holly’s skin left her.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “God, no. Touch me.” Reyna pulled at her clothes. “I want your body against me.”

  She lifted her hips so Holly could push down the sleek black jeans. “Stay there,” Holly breathed. “Please.” She slowly went to her knees next to the bed as she kissed Reyna’s belly, her thighs.

  “Is this what you want? My mouth … here?”

  “Yes,” Reyna said brokenly. “Yes.”

  She felt poured out, like wax, as Holly learned her. She began to talk, as she had not with any of the others, letting her desires voice themselves after such a long silence.

  “There. Please,” she begged. “Please.” She said much more and didn’t know if Holly could hear her. She was choking on the words, on fire to tell Holly how good her mouth felt, then how much she needed fingers in her now. She could not stop groaning out her need until she arched hard against Holly with a desperate shaking that continued even after she had slumped into Holly’s arms.

  “There’s more,” Holly whispered. “You want more.”

  “Yes,” Reyna said. She would never stop wanting more. What more could there be, you fool, she cursed herself. There is no more. But my lord, such wonder, such ecstasy, and knowing it was Holly who moaned low in her ear.

  “Tell me.” Holly caressed the side of Reyna’s breast as if she wanted it in her mouth again.

  I will never be able to leave, Reyna thought. I can’t stay. I can’t go.

  Holly nuzzled at her breast. “Tell me. I’ll do it.”

 

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