Looking for Julie

by Jackie Calhoun

  “That’s the men’s wing,” and the girl surprised Sam by touching her cheek with one wet finger. “What are you doing with a guy?”

  “You know Jamie Carpenter, don’t you? He’s the friend.”

  “Yeah, I know him,” the girl said. “Met him at an LGBT meeting.”

  When she left, Sam looked at her reflection. The blush was fading. Her eyes, the ones that felt like hot holes, were her best feature. Her mother had once said she could see the sky reflected in her eyes, but of course her mother would think such a thing. No one else would.

  They had made some order in Jamie’s room. The twin bed was pushed against the far wall. The desk was crammed next to it. The dresser stood in the closet with clothes piled on top. Her sleeping bag lay atop a cushion of dirty clothes.

  Jamie was stretched out on the bed, watching the small TV on top of the dresser. He looked at her when she came in.

  “Do you know who lives in three-seventeen?” she asked. “She came to an LGBT meeting.”

  “No, but I remember some of the girls. Lisa, Toni, Karen?”

  “That’s it! Karen! I saw her in the john and couldn’t think who she was. She invited me to hang out with some other girls in her room tomorrow night, but I have to work.” She put her toothbrush and toothpaste away and slid into her sleeping bag. It felt like she was lying on rolled up socks.

  Jamie turned off the television. “Bet that feels a lot like the couch at your apartment.”

  “Feels pretty good to lie down anywhere after moving all your stuff.” Her phone was buzzing next to her. She looked at the display. “It’s Nita. Think I should answer?”

  “Send her a text that you’re not coming home tonight. Otherwise, she might call the cops when you’re still gone in the morning.”

  Yeah, that would be bad, she thought and sent the text.

  Nita wrote back, “Where are you?”

  She passed this information on to Jamie.

  “Tell her you’re with a friend. Let her worry a little.”

  “She won’t worry,” Sam said but sent the text anyway and turned off the cell.

  Chapter Four

  Edie dug out Pam’s card as she sat in her car outside of Sam’s apartment. It had been a long week and she was too sleepy to drive to Point. Pam picked up on the second ring.

  “Is this really you, Edie?”

  Edie smiled at Pam’s enthusiasm. “Yes, it’s me. I had to come to Madison to help my nephew out of a bind. I know it’s late, but I thought I’d give you a call.”

  “Hey, it’s the shank of the evening as my dad used to say. Have you eaten?”

  It was almost impossible to hear over the voices talking and laughing in the background. “I ate something with my nephew and his friend. I’m at four-thirty-five West Washington.”

  “We’re at the Kabul on State Street. Don’t move. I’ll come and get you.”

  “Wait,” Edie said, almost changing her mind, but Pam was gone. Did she really want to sit here waiting for Pam? Yes, she thought, just in case Claire was at the restaurant. She started the motor for warmth.

  Pam knocked on her window, startling her out of a dream. She unrolled the glass a few inches, letting in the biting cold.

  “Follow me,” Pam said and hurried back to her car.

  Edie followed the Jetta through a few intersections before Pam pulled into one of a double parking space around the corner from State Street.

  “You’ll be hungry when you smell this place,” Pam said.

  They half ran toward the restaurant. The warm redolence of the Kabul enveloped them with smells of garlic and ginger and onions and roasted lamb. They were led to a table for two. “Everyone was leaving for a concert when I came to get you,” Pam said.

  “Did I keep you from going with them?”

  “Nah. I don’t have a ticket.”

  Edie didn’t believe her. She was surprised at how disappointed she was that Claire wasn’t there. She wished she had headed for home despite the tiredness.

  “Is your nephew all right?”

  “For now he is, I hope.” She told Pam how she went about getting Jamie another room. “His parents are in Mexico, so I’m his person of last resort.” That wasn’t completely true, of course. He always called her first when he needed help. She also told Pam about Sam and her dilemma.

  “I wouldn’t willingly be that age again, would you?” Pam asked.

  “Probably nobody would. Oh well, I think he’ll be okay now if someone doesn’t beat him up again.” She smiled fleetingly.

  “Who beat him up?” Pam looked as if she was ready to take that person on.

  “Some guy with a black truck. Jamie has violet hair and a big mouth.” She was studying the menu. “I think I’ll have the hummus. I am hungry after all.”

  “It’s wonderful,” Pam said. “I’ll have dessert—the baklava with the fruit.”

  “You’ve already eaten, haven’t you?”

  Pam nodded.

  “And you do have a ticket to the concert, don’t you?”

  Pam grinned and shrugged. Her pale eyes lit up. “Hey, I wanted to see you more than the concert. How often do I get to spend time with a famous author?”

  “Well, that’s nice of you,” Edie said, wondering how to handle Pam’s interest in her. She hated hurting people. “But I’m not a famous author.” Was she one of those people who wrote the same book over and over? She hoped not. It always surprised her to see her books in drugstores and discount stores and grocery stores. There were so many better books out there.

  “Why don’t you stay in town tonight? I have room at my place.”

  It might be better to go to a motel than stay at Pam’s and give her the wrong vibes. “Thanks. I’ll see how I feel after eating.”

  “Listen, a bunch of us are going to meet at a bar when the concert is over. Claire will be there.” Pam’s eyes searched hers.

  “Sounds like fun.” She looked away, sure that Pam was using Claire as a lure to keep her here. Otherwise, why would she have mentioned her?

  “By the way, I bought one of your books.”

  “Well, that was nice of you.”

  “Don’t you want to know which one?” Pam leaned forward eagerly, a big smile on her face. “I haven’t had a chance to start it yet.”

  She sighed. It was a terrible thing to be ashamed of what you did for a living. “Look Pam, I don’t really like to talk about my books. They’re romances about straight people.” She was blushing. Had she ever told anyone that besides Lynn, who was always trying to get her to write a lesbian romance? Usually, when people asked her what she did, she sidetracked them with questions about what they did.

  Pam’s expression was almost laughable. She looked like what she’d tasted had suddenly gone bad. “Oh. Is it okay if I still read your books?”

  “Sure, just don’t tell anyone who I really am.” She smiled. “I’d like to remain anonymous.”

  It was late when the concert ended and they met at a bar. Claire came in with another woman. She was even more attractive than Edie remembered. Under her black leather jacket she wore fitted jeans and a tight turtleneck sweater. Her hair shone as she leaned between Edie and Pam at the bar and asked for a Leinie’s Red. She smelled wonderful.

  Edie slid off her stool to be on the same level. “How was the concert?”

  Claire gave her a bored half smile. “Okay. People were dancing in the aisles.” She put her head back and drank from the bottle.

  “Were you?”

  “No.” A slight frown appeared between Claire’s brows. “That’s not me. What brings you to Madison?”

  “My nephew. He needed some intervention.”

  “Are you his guardian?” Claire looked away. She was losing interest.

  “No. His parents are unreachable. He needed a room change and somebody gave him a beating.” Would that interest Claire?

  “Too bad. Are you staying with Pam?” She lifted an eyebrow, sending shivers across Edie’s skin.
>
  “I might. I don’t want to fall asleep on the road.”

  Claire was turning away. Someone else was vying for her attention, the woman she’d been talking to when she entered the bar. “Well, enjoy your stay,” she said.

  Let her go, she told herself. She’s got someone else, and then Claire swung back and introduced her to her friend.

  “This is Janine Desmond.” A dusky colored woman with dark brown eyes and a figure to die for put an arm around Claire and leaned into her.

  “Hi.” Edie extended her hand and Janine took it limply with slender fingers.

  “Edie lives in Stevens Point. She came down here to rescue her nephew,” Claire said with a smile.

  “That true?” Janine said lazily in a smoky voice.

  Edie felt big and awkward and out of place. Pam rescued her. “How you doing, Janine?”

  Janine gave her a slow smile. “Good, Pam. You keeping us all safe from those homophobes?”

  “I could do with some help from you two.” Pam grinned suddenly. “But that’s okay. Your job is to show the world that we’re not all fat and ugly.”

  Edie looked at her in astonishment. She opened her mouth to say, “I’m not fat nor are you,” and then shut it without uttering a word. She fervently wished she’d driven home or gone to a motel.

  From then on she talked only to those who talked to her. Quite a few of the small crowd knew Lynn and asked if she did as well, sparking conversations about how much Lynn had done for gay rights, she and Frankie.

  “Where is Frankie?” Edie asked.

  “Out of town,” someone said.

  Edie’s gaze kept wandering to Claire and Janine. After they left together, her desire to socialize tanked. She realized how tired she was and wanted to leave too.

  As if reading her body language, Pam brought Edie her jacket and asked if she was ready. “Follow me,” she said before they slid into their cold cars.

  Pam’s apartment was on the first floor of an elegant old house. It had a wraparound porch and Edie thought it unfortunate that it had been converted into rental units. A computer desk stood under a large window in the living room. Papers were strewn around the laptop and printer. There was a small TV and DVD on a stand against another wall. A chair that folded out into a single bed futon faced it, as did a small sofa and an easy chair. Papers and books and magazines were piled on the floor between the chairs and sofa. The kitchen was only large enough for appliances and a small table under another window. The other doors were closed.

  “Hey, nothing fancy like your house,” Pam said, apparently registering Edie’s thoughts. “I didn’t have time to pick up.”

  “It’s homey, a great place to crash, which is what I have to do before I fall down.” She was suddenly exhausted.

  “I’ll sleep out here. Just give me a chance to change the sheets on the bed,” Pam said.

  “No, I’ll sleep here.” Edie tapped the futon. “Just get me a blanket and a pillow and I’ll be good to go.”

  Pam stood looking at her a moment. “I’m sorry, Edie. The place doesn’t always look like this.”

  “I don’t care, Pam.” She smiled. “I’m just grateful to have a place to sleep.”

  When the lights were out, Edie found herself staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Finally, she turned on the light next to the futon and picked up one of the books off the floor. It was one she’d read years ago, a novel by Julie Alvarez, In the Time of the Butterflies, about the four Mirabel sisters, three of whom were murdered in the resistance against the dictator Trujillo in 1960 in the Dominican Republic. She got halfway through the book and fell asleep. She woke up when a yawning Pam emerged from the bedroom in the morning.

  Pam saw the book lying open on Edie’s chest and said, “Didn’t you sleep at all? I knew I should have made you use my bed. That futon is so hard.”

  “I’m okay. Really.”

  While eating toasted bagels, she brought up Claire and Janine. “They make a beautiful couple.”

  “They fight constantly. If they lived together, they’d kill each other. They are opposites. Black and white.” She laughed. “They are black and white in every way.”

  “Well, they seemed pretty cozy last night.”

  “I know, but I’ll bet they were at each other’s throats before the night was out.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Nope. None. I agree that they make a stunning couple, though.”

  “They do,” she said a bit too wistfully, then almost laughed. Was she lustful? Yes. She’d love to take either of those women to bed, but only if for some wild reason one of them wanted to go to bed with her. Their coolness toward her had been crushing.

  “Can you stay for the day and let me show you Madison?”

  Could she? Yes. Did she want to? She didn’t know. Besides, she already knew Madison. “Let me call my nephew and see how he is doing.”

  Jamie answered his phone after five rings. “’Lo.”

  “I woke you up, didn’t I? I forget that people your age sleep till noon.”

  “What time is it? Where am I? Ah, some sweet lady put me in this wonderful, little hidey-hole. I love it here and so does Sammy. Are you still in town, Auntie?”

  “I thought I’d check on you before I left.”

  “With whom did you spend the night? I hope she was pretty.”

  Edie glanced at Pam. No, she wasn’t pretty but she was nice—a whole lot nicer than Claire and Janine. “Don’t get smart, kiddo.”

  “Sorry. I’m good, actually. Sam is better. She says hello and thank you.”

  “I’m glad. She’s welcome and so are you. Try to stay out of trouble. Next time it might be your father who has to take care of things.” Edie’s baby brother had little tolerance for his flamboyant son.

  “God forbid, if there is a God.”

  “See you next time.”

  “Hasta luego,” he said and made kissing noises.

  She laughed and put the phone away.

  Pam was on her cell. “Today?” she screeched. “Why today?” She glanced at Edie and calmed down. “Okay, okay. I know I said I would. I’ll be there in half.” She snapped her phone shut. “I’m sorry. I promised to help with some stuff.”

  “Hey, that’s okay. I need to get home anyway.”

  “I don’t have time for a personal life anymore.” Her phone buzzed and she looked at the display. “Give me a minute.”

  “Sure.”

  “Hi, Claire. What’s up?” A pause. “Why do you need a ride? Can’t Janine take you back to your place?” Another pause. “I can’t.”

  Edie’s heart leaped and she tapped Pam on the shoulder. “I can do it.”

  “Wait a minute.” Pam put her hand over the mouthpiece. “You can?” When Edie nodded, Pam’s eyes betrayed her disappointment. It had probably been the story of her life, and Edie felt badly for her but not badly enough. “Edie’s here. She says she can take you home. You want to talk to her?” She handed Edie the phone.

  “I’ll need directions,” she said, thinking she was a fool to do this.

  “Pam can give them to you. I’ll be out front, looking for you.” Edie handed the cell back to Pam, who closed it.

  Edie had trouble meeting Pam’s gaze after Pam wrote down directions. She didn’t like herself at the moment, but Pam seemed grateful. Maybe she thought Edie would get Claire out of her system.

  “Thank you for letting me stay over.”

  Pam gave her a hug and said, “Good luck and, by the way, I started reading your book last night and could hardly put it down.”

  Edie paused to say thanks again before going out the door.

  Claire was pacing back and forth on a street a few blocks from Pam’s, which should have taken her only ten minutes to find instead of half an hour. She pulled up to the curb, and Claire slid in. Her hair was tangled and she looked mad. The tip of her nose was bright red.

  “Sorry,” Edie said. “The one-way streets are confusing.”

  “Th
at’s okay. Thanks,” she said curtly. “Damn, I wish I smoked.”

  Edie laughed. “Why?”

  “Doesn’t it calm you down?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t smoke.” She smiled, thinking she must be trying to be funny. One look told her that wasn’t the case. “Why do you need calming down anyway?”

  Claire stared out the passenger window. “I should have known better than to go home with her.”

  “Janine?”

  Claire’s head whipped toward Edie, green eyes blazing. “Yes, Janine. I never learn.”

  “I hate to ask what it is you never learn.”

  “Well, don’t then,” Claire said rudely. “Sorry, I am so angry I don’t know what to do with it.”

  They drove the rest of the way to Claire’s home in silence, the only spoken words the brusque directions Claire gave Edie.

  She parked in front of the duplex and was about to ask for directions out of town when Claire turned toward her. “Come on inside and have a cup of coffee.”

  Edie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure,” Claire snapped. “You gave me a ride. I owe you something.”

  She followed Claire into her home. The living room was light and airy with bright prints on the walls, which she wanted to look at, but Claire headed straight for the kitchen.

  “Sit,” she said and Edie sat, while she ground coffee and poured it in a basket in a four-cup coffeemaker.

  “Look,” Edie began uncomfortably as Claire tapped her fingers impatiently on the counter.

  Claire spun toward her. “Fuck the coffee,” she said, startling Edie. “Come with me.” With surprising strength she pulled Edie out of the chair.

  “Where…” Edie began, but shut up when Claire led her to a bedroom. Clothes were strewn over every surface.

  Claire began throwing the garments off the bed, muttering something about not being able to make up her goddamn mind. She took her own clothes off, adding them to the pile. In a few shocking moments, she stood naked before Edie.

  A flush climbed Edie’s body, suffusing her face so that even her eyes were hot. “I can’t…”