by Marge Piercy
“Nothing. I just … I was hoping … If David heard me say this he’d kill me. I was hoping he’d lose and the thing with her would be over.”
Johnny led her to the door, his hand on her shoulder. “If hope is all we’ve got, we haven’t got much, have we?” He opened the umbrella to the rain and urged her close. She leaned into him; she didn’t resist. “But if we had something that might help people see things differently, that might change the voter’s mind, then …”
Crystal stopped in the middle of the parking lot. “Like what?”
“I have no idea, dear. You’re the one who knows David. Just something that might tarnish that fresh-faced image for his own damned good. That might save him from falling permanently into the clutches of that woman. If he loses the election, he’ll be of little further interest to that pair.”
The following morning Crystal wrote him out a check, paying for the tow service. If anything, she seemed more reserved with him. Polite, always; efficient and helpful, but perhaps a little ashamed of what she had revealed. He couldn’t blame her, and in truth he was probably lucky. He had crossed the barrier between boss and employee. He was a silly old man. He wouldn’t make a fool of himself again.
At Friday noon, just after the other girls went to lunch, Crystal stepped into his office and closed the door firmly behind her. Approaching his desk, she said softly, “Mr. Lynch. I think I found something you can use.” She reached into her purse.
JUDITH
Judith studied the flyer Blossom had put out, simple, vulgar and effective. The headline asked WHO BEST REPRESENTS THE PEOPLE OF SALTASH? One photo showed Birdman in a safari jacket peering through binoculars out to sea, gesturing to some unseen audience like a priggish private school science teacher. Ahab clung to the deck of a boat run aground on a sand bar, waving his arms wildly, red-nosed and demented. Judith remembered that little accident. Could happen to anybody, given the way the harbor bottom changed from season to season, but Blossom had come up with a photo. Next, Blossom with her sleeves rolled up collecting trash on Beach Improvement Day. Finally there was David—David and Gordon and herself. They were lying on a bed together, Gordon in his pajamas, his arms around David and her. A bottle of champagne stood on a bed tray as they all toasted Gordon’s last birthday for the camera.
“Well, at least we look as if we’re having a good time,” Judith said mildly, handing the flyer back to David.
“How did they ever get hold of that picture? Natasha took it, right?”
“Of course. But she’s at Cornell, and why would she give a copy to anyone? I suppose it could have been someone in the pharmacy, where the film was left. Or someone in Hyannis, where they send it to be developed. But why are you so agitated?”
Gordon was lying on the couch, eating from the coffee table, perhaps one bite to every ten of theirs. “It can’t hurt you unless you act guilty.”
“I don’t know … It makes me out to be some kind of playboy.”
“David, everybody sees how hard you work at landscaping and nursery.” But in the car afterward with the two of them on their way to a small Shabbat service in the Universalist meeting house, Judith felt she could speak more bluntly. “What upsets you? Are you ashamed to be seen with me—in a photo or in person?”
“Of course not. I’m proud to be with you.”
“We never go out together.”
“Judith, where do I ever go?”
“I assume, wherever young couples with children go. To Little League games. To the movies. Out for pizza at Penia’s.”
“We were talking about the election.”
“Yes, and you told Gordon you see the photo as an attack.”
“I was talking about how Blossom got hold of it. I had a copy in my drawer—”
“Where Crystal won’t see it?”
“It’s not Crystal. I checked this morning, and it’s still there …. But it makes me look like a drunken bum.”
“We both know what the picture is supposed to say, or Gordon and I wouldn’t be in it. So what? If there were two people in town who didn’t know about us, they just learned. It seems you have two choices. Either you cut off the relationship—”
“I wouldn’t do that!” His voice sounded almost panicked.
“Or you start acting proud. This town is too small to hide in. People know if you go skulking around. Believe it or not, I’m a respected person in this town, and so is Gordon.”
“You’re married.”
“And you’re my friend. Married ladies are allowed to have friends. I think you’re the one who feels married, David. You act as if Crystal is real and I’m not. Because she has a child and you two play mommy and daddy go to market, mommy and daddy take their son to school. Unless you feel like an adulterer, why be ashamed?”
“I’m not ashamed of you. I never have been.”
“Then act it. Gordon and I have a lot of friends. I think we can win this election—but not if you hold us back. I’m asking you to say, ‘This is my life, take it or leave it.’ You have to be willing to fight and you have to be willing to take the consequences.”
Judith listened to herself as she lectured David. It was time to cool down. This was not the way to approach Shabbat. But she decided it was past time she took her own advice. Fight and take the consequences. Go public. Act proud.
When David addressed the Taxpayers Association in mid-week, Judith stood against a back wall with her arms folded, keeping her eyes on him, nodding when he made a good point. She had been practicing his delivery with him; his public speaking was improving. He was going door-to-door every evening, talking with a few families. His literature was being churned out, courtesy of the Greene Team, Judith Silver, Chair. She had written most of it.
Sunday at six she had a get-together for all the volunteers she had been able to line up, everyone from friends of Natasha to old clients, the “reform element,” women who simply liked her. She laid out a spread in her office, chicken, vegetarian lasagna, snacks, beer and soda, food for thirty-two who had come out for David and for her. She got commitments from people to put bumper stickers on their cars and to stand on the highway Saturday mornings holding signs. She found a finance chair and two people who offered to drive older people to the polls. Judith was at David’s elbow: she was the heart of his campaign now that both her crusades, to elect him and to keep him as her lover, were public. She had been told that Crystal clung to him when they went out, hung on his arm, called him Laramie’s daddy. That would never be Judith’s style. She simply claimed him publicly. She intended to prove herself essential. The Greene Team banner was draped on the outer wall of her office. If Johnny Lynch considered her the opposition, she would be right in his face. She wanted him to know that win or lose this election, she was not going to vanish. She wanted him thinking about her whenever he pulled something under cover of darkness; and she wanted to have the identical effect on Crystal.
DAVID
“Crystal, stop crying.”
“Don’t tell me what to do! I’m sick of being ordered around.”
“I am not ordering you. I’m asking you to calm down so I can hear you.” I assumed there’d be a price to pay for Judith’s party. When Holly ran into the yard to tell me Crystal was on the telephone, so upset she could barely speak, I knew this was it. “Calm down, please. You’re at work. You can’t cry like this, you’ll get in trouble with your boss.”
“I’m in Mr. Lynch’s office. He told me to use his phone. I’m in trouble. I’m being kicked out in the street with my kid. I’m going to be homeless.”
“Stop right there. What’s going on? Start from the beginning.”
“It happened last night. I tried to call you. You weren’t home.”
Because of course I was with Judith and thirty-two of her loyal friends. Holly was watching me from the register, dying to lift the extension.
“When I got up this morning I found the telephone and electric bills on the kitchen table and a note from Michelle that sa
id she wanted the money by tonight or we’re out, me and Laramie. Where can we go?” Crystal was about to start crying again.
“So it’s just finding the money?”
“No, she’s crazy. You don’t understand. The money is an excuse. She wants me out. Everything I do is wrong. She likes it well enough when I take care of her kid. And I take care of her kid a hell of a lot better than she does. I never told anyone this, but she hits Kelly Ann. When Michelle gets angry, her hands fly. That’s why that little girl is so messed up.”
“Please, let me get this straight. Is it or isn’t it a matter of money?”
“I won’t be treated this way. I won’t be accused of something I didn’t do.”
“Accused of what?”
She sighed deeply. “She says I was playing around with her boyfriend.”
“Tommy? Why would she say that?”
“I don’t know. She hates me. She’s crazy. Don’t tell me you don’t trust me either.”
“I just asked. I’m trying to understand. How could she say something so ridiculous?”
“She came in late last night and he was here, okay? We were watching TV. Is that such a big deal? He was only waiting for her.”
“And that’s it? Just because he was waiting for her?”
“She says because the lights were off and we were sitting on the couch. Like there’s a lot of furniture in her living room, right?”
“So it’s all a misunderstanding? Maybe we can talk to her.”
“That’s what you care about, appeasing her.”
“What I care about is that you and Laramie have a place to live.”
“What kind of place to live is it with an ax over our heads that could fall any minute? Any time she wants she can march in and say get out. I don’t have the money for two months’ deposit on a new apartment, if I could find one, and a month’s rent and heat and utilities and a telephone.”
“I can lend it to you.”
“I won’t take money from you. I never take money from guys. I’d rather be on the street. That’s just what she wants, the bitch.” I could hear her labored breathing, her voice beginning to crack.
“Stop. You won’t be on the street.”
Holly was listening openly now, standing at my elbow.
“We will. Laramie and me.”
“No, you won’t. If Michelle throws you out, you can come to my house.”
“Oh, that’ll be cute. You and me and Judith.”
“Judith has her own house. When I see her, I go over there.”
“Always?”
“We can work it out. The two of you can move in temporarily. Until you find your own place.”
“Temporarily. Of course. Judith would be upset otherwise.” Although there was a bitter cast to her voice, she was noticeably calmer. The crying had stopped. A peace settled over the telephone lines like a baby suddenly falling asleep. When she spoke at last, her voice was matter-of-fact. “All right, I’ll go back to work now. But you’re all wrong about Mr. Lynch. He had Maria make tea, and he gave me a Valium, or I’d be too hysterical to talk. He’s like a father to me, David, just like my own father was. I really do feel less scared for Laramie, now that I’ve settled what to do. You always make things better.”
JUDITH
Judith felt cold through and through, although the first Wednesday in May was balmy, the air moist from the Gulf Stream, the buds on the silver maples breaking their seals. She felt cold with desperation. She had called Lynch’s law office at ten yesterday and asked for Crystal, suggesting they have lunch today. She selected Mary’s Tea Room because the booths offered a little privacy. She often brought clients there, and she had asked Mary to save her the booth at the end.
With Crystal moving in on David, Judith had to put a face on her and try to reach an understanding. Would it be possible? She had to make it possible. If she could reach some sort of rapport with Crystal, they would stop tugging on David like children fighting over a doll. If the situation had an end in sight, she could simply endure it. If it did not, then Crystal and she must work things out. She did not want the subterranean war they had been waging. It made her feel rotten.
She must not make Crystal think she was trying to bribe her, but at the same time she wanted Crystal to understand that she could help. Crystal was a single mother, as Yirina had been. Judith had to make the younger woman see that she was willing to be a friend. Helping raise another woman’s child was a familiar role to Judith. If that’s what it takes, she thought. It frightened Judith that Crystal had moved in, that David had allowed it, even though he was apologetic, even though he insisted it was an emergency measure. Judith doubted that Crystal would be in any hurry to move out. She was in residence; she was in possession. When Judith told Hannah, Hannah said, “Well, that was fun while it lasted. Wake up and smell the exhaust. He’s gone now.” But Judith did not want to believe that Crystal had simply taken him over.
She dressed normally, a silk shirt dress, because while she was not in court today, she had a string of clients all morning and all afternoon. Two divorces in progress, a child custody defense, a suit involving an improperly laid roof that never stopped leaking, a defense of a doctor accused by his patient’s family of aiding her desire to die. The last was the most interesting case. She took it on with full fervor, because she was terribly aware of the pain of cancer and how ineffective the means to relieve that pain were. Dying took a long time. Not everyone had Gordon’s patience with the process. He claimed to find it interesting. So far, endurable.
As she walked from her office the six blocks to Mary’s, she still felt cold, on a sunny day when dogs were trotting in happy packs and in the marina six different boats were waiting to be launched from winter storage. Gordon and she had talked about buying a boat after Natasha was done with her schooling. Now it would never happen.
She walked briskly, afraid she would be late, but she arrived well before Crystal. She had time to order a cup of coffee and drink it before Crystal arrived. When she saw Crystal enter, she stood and waved. She thought Crystal probably recognized her, but after all, they had never officially met. Crystal was got up in a fashion not exactly appropriate for a law office, or for that matter, lunch in this town. She was wearing western boots, a fringed leather skirt cut a little too tight with a turquoise satin blouse. Her dangling earrings were turquoise also—cheap silver, chip-glued turquoise. She wore a black leather belt with silver conchos and much perfume, one of those horrors they sprayed on hapless passersby in department stores. Judith was not sure exactly what this costume was supposed to signify, but it did serve to remind her that Crystal had spent years in Las Vegas.
They shook hands. Crystal’s hands were as warm as hers were cold. Different reactions to stress? But she saw no stress in Crystal’s face, only a glitter of hostility barely masked by a sweetish smile and a gush of words. “So nice to meet you finally … David talks so much about you. It’s been really kind of you to take an interest in his campaign. I know you’re so much more experienced than he is in politics and everything else. It’s been a real boon to him—that you’re willing to help a man not only so much younger, but I’m sure David seems very naive to someone like you.”
“Someone like me? David’s smart, educated. And a ball player sees quite a lot of people on their best and worst behavior.”
“I mean someone older, more sophisticated. Married to a famous man. A lawyer everybody’s heard of. People just keep telling me stories about what a great time you and your husband had, parties and all those … high times.”
From the phrase and expression, she assumed the young woman had heard the story of Gordon’s great marijuana bust—long before she met him. “Actually we both mostly work. My husband hasn’t produced twenty books by dancing all night. I’m afraid you’ll find me simply hardworking and involved in my job.”
“David has told me how kind you’ve been to him. How grateful he is. How … obligated he feels to you.”
She re
alized Crystal had gone immediately on the attack. But Mary was standing over them now. “We should order.”
Crystal ordered the chef ’s salad. If Crystal had been a friend, Judith would have warned her that the chef’s salad was a few cubes of ham and processed cheese in iceburg lettuce with a couple of canned olives. She ordered a hamburger with french fries (which would probably give her heartburn; she never ate french fries). If there had been anything palatable that was even fattier, she would have ordered that also. This was a silly war, but it was obviously war. Time to go on the offensive.
“So you come to us from Las Vegas?” She let her eyes drift over Crystal’s outfit. She decided it was supposed to say S-E-X.
“I went there to be a blackjack dealer. I needed to make good money to support my son. I was running away from his father.”
“I’ve been in Las Vegas,” Judith thought it only fair to say, in reference to the dealer fairy tale. Larry, Gordon’s youngest son, had gotten in trouble there and they had flown out to pay his debts and take him home. “Why were you fleeing Laramie’s father?” She dropped the boy’s name intentionally. If Crystal wanted to imply that David talked about her, which she doubted, two could play. Crystal waited while Mary set down the pale salad and Judith’s sizzling burger. Mary made good meat and seafood dishes. She just had no interest in vegetables. “Do have some of my french fries. Mary gave me a mountain of them.”
“I couldn’t!”
“Watching your weight? So often it’s a matter of watching it steadily rise.” Judith ate her fries one at a time, smiling. “You were going to tell me about Laramie’s father.”
Crystal shuddered and put her hand up to her face as if feeling a bruise. “He started slapping me around when he was drinking. But after Laramie was born, it got worse. One night he beat me unconscious. The next morning I took Laramie and I left, with what I could throw in a suitcase. I left him everything we owned. I drew half the money out of our account and bought a bus ticket to Las Vegas.”
