In Every Port

by Karin Kallmaker

  "Poor, poor baby," Marilyn murmured, and she came back to put her arms comfortingly around Jessica. "Poor, poor little one. I am sorry. What are you going to do?"

  "I don't know. I keep asking myself that and I just don't know. I love being with her. I thought I could get by with just a little part of her life, but it's not working out. I think I'm going to lose her."

  "If your life blows up and you need a change of scene for awhile, you can come to San Antonio. One of our living suites is yours. No strings. You can just be alone. Or bring your word processor if you want."

  Jessica looked up at Marilyn and then kissed her gently. "You are a good friend, for an ex-lover."

  "I try." They smiled at each other, not very happily, and Marilyn picked up her room key. "I really have to go."

  "I know. Let's keep in touch this time, okay? I miss your phone calls."

  "I'll call, I promise."

  At the elevator they shook hands. As the doors closed Jessica realized she hadn't even asked Marilyn if she'd secured the capital for the New York hotel. Feeling selfish and self-centered, she went to her room, hoping Cat wasn't there. She wanted to change and repair the damage Marilyn had wrought to her poise.

  The week passed quickly. On Friday afternoon her conference wrapped up. She was the last speaker, giving her estimation of where women were heading in the business world.

  She scanned the audience as she spoke, keeping eye contact with the key faces she had chosen to gauge reaction. When she saw Cat standing at the back, she didn't miss a beat or stumble over a single syllable. She suddenly felt right about the change she was going to make to her usual "stick with it and we'll get there" speech. It wasn't in the same league as an I have a dream speech, but she felt a new edge of steel in her voice when she began her closing.

  "I feel good about where we've been and where we've come, but I want to leave you with a word to think about. Complacency. We see more of us earning more money, and yet women make up the poorest segment of our population. We see more of us in management, and yet we're clustered into pink collar jobs where the salaries just happen to be two-thirds of the salaries in other areas.

  "Complacency. I've been complacent for the last few years. It has brought me considerable security and financial well-being. But for the last few years I haven't really slept well. I've been nervous, wondering if my security was just a sham. I've been wondering if I began reminding women about the fact that we babies haven't come a very long way would I lose some of my security? Probably.

  "And as I've finally realized what toeing the line means, treasuring my security over my ideals, I've felt deeply sorry for the men who've toed the line all their lives. We can be freer than they were. Through our freedom we can make men free too. Our daughters and sons will be freer still. That's what in the women's movement for all of us, a new world with more choices. The businesswoman is a woman. Her needs are remarkably similar to the needs of all women.

  "Give me what I need and I'll give you what you need. Give me what I'm worth and I'll give you my loyalty. Give me respect and I'll fight anyone who would take yours away. Let me fulfill my dreams, and I will amaze you with my strength! Thank you for listening."

  She swept off the podium to shake hands with some of the women in the front row, so invigorated she didn't hear the applause.

  "You're really dynamic on the podium," Cat said when Jessica was finally finished with the circle of women who had come up to her.

  "Thank you. I'll trust your judgment and agree. But I heard one person saying, 'Oh dear, she's getting political.' "

  "Screw 'em," Cat said with the toss of her head that Jessica found excruciatingly adorable. "You made me uncomfortable. I had to wonder what price I paid for my job security. I tell myself no one's outright sexist anymore, but a part of me knows my boss gives me the worst schedules, the toughest standards."

  "Don't quit your job on account of what I said. I hope I didn't leave that impression. Push for change. Every little inch you gain will mean a mile for the next woman." They walked to the elevators. "What's on for tonight?" Jessica asked.

  "Someone told me there's a dance bar called the Jukebox around here somewhere and they play prime music from the fifties and sixties — no disco merde! I said I'd meet some of the other reps after theater time tonight, but I don't have to go. It was a loose arrangement."

  "Sounds fun. Where do you want to have dinner?"

  "Tell the truth, I'd love room service. I'm glad everything's over and I want to relax."

  "That's the best suggestion I've heard so far." She was feeling good, brave. Maybe tonight, Jessica thought. I want to tell her how I feel. I can be brave. I made the speech today and survived, maybe now's the time.

  She ordered their dinner while Cat changed into some jeans and a pullover. She had to turn and stare out the window while Cat changed. It was too hard to watch.

  Lust, she decided, was a bitch.

  They decided to stay comfortable in their jeans and pullovers and went to the play that way, their clothing mingling with the multitude of styles of the rest of the audience.

  "What a thriller," Jessica said afterward. "I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!"

  "I wasn't too sure about something called Deathtrap, but it was terrific," Cat admitted. "When the two guys kissed and I realized they'd set the whole murder up — it was great!"

  "That's what I call a good play," Jessica said. "Do you want to go meet those people at that dance place?"

  "Yeah, why not? Let's go dance till we drop."

  Jessica fell suddenly silent in the cab, vividly remembering the last time she'd gone dancing. It had been in New York, the night she'd met Gina. No, there was no going down that road again, she told Herself. There is just Cat now.

  "Earth to Jessica. We're here," Cat said, giving her a puzzled look.

  She followed Cat into the bar. "There they are," Cat pointed and they made their way to the rowdy group in the corner.

  They were fun people, Jessica found, a little more boisterous than she was used to, but what the hell. She danced with all the men and watched Cat dancing too. Cat was graceful and animated — she moved well.

  Jessica wondered if she had the same look on her face all the men who were watching Cat had on their faces. Probably, she thought. Her partner swung her gently to "Fooled Around and Pell in Love." She sung along with the words, smiling secretly. Her partner asked what was so funny. "Nothing, nothing," she said. Cat's going to catch you with your tongue hanging out like the rest of them, Herself warned.

  The place closed at three with everyone singing "American Pie," singing about the day the music died. The critical moment had come, Jessica realized. Cat had spent the last little while in deep conversation with one guy who was the same physical type as Paul the Jerk. When they hadn't been talking, they'd been dancing. He kept putting his arm around Cat and Jessica had to guard against glaring at him.

  She, on the other hand, had spent most of the night talking to several different women about their careers and sharing war stories. She'd danced with the men and they'd talked a little, but when they found out what she did for a living they'd obviously figured she wasn't worth the challenge. That's the way it always was. She was glad men were so predictable because it saved a lot of awkwardness.

  As people headed for the door to catch cabs, she wondered if she should let someone else drop her off, or if she should ask Cat if she was ready to go back to the hotel. She was almost sick inside. Would Cat go off with the Paul the Jerk clone?

  "Jess, do you want us to drop you at your hotel on our way?" someone asked, and she glanced over her shoulder at Cat.

  Jessica was flooded with relief as Cat disentangled herself from the clone. She smiled very nicely and then told a big lie about having just enough time to pack and catch a flight back home.

  "Yes, we'll just make it," Jessica added, glancing at her watch.

  She saw Cat relax. Everyone shook hands all round amid promises to keep
in touch. She and Cat caught a cab.

  "Thanks for the quick save," Cat said on the way back to the hotel. "He was going to take no very badly. I kept trying to wiggle out from under his arm, but he was sure I was completely besotted."

  "No problem. It's a shame you just can't say no politely and that's the end of it."

  "Not with his type. I'm worth more than two drinks and a couple of dances."

  "I'll say."

  "Thanks," Cat said, grinning. "How much do you think?"

  "At least three drinks," Jessica said. She wished she could expect to buy Cat three drinks and take her to bed. And she wanted so much more than that.

  "Poor guy, if he'd only known."

  Jessica shrugged. "He's one of those men who treat women like slot machines. Put in a few quarters and you might get lucky," Jessica said, resting her head back on the seat. She blushed. And was glad Cat couldn't see her. Hypocrite, Herself called her. Isn't that exactly what you've done all along?

  The hotel lobby was very quiet but the Bee Gees were pulsing from the hotel disco.

  "How about a nightcap?" Cat suggested and Jessica nodded.

  She expected the bar to be packed, with John Travolta imitators dancing up a storm. But there were only a few couples in the place and the bartender perked up a little at the prospect of having someone to serve.

  By leaning very close to each other they could converse if they screamed over the loud monotonous beat. It was a relief when the music segued to the gentler How Deep h Your Love. Jessica found her lips getting a little closer to Cat's ear each time she leaned toward her. She slid a little closer to Cat until her knee was against Cat's.

  Jessica was not aware of what they talked about. She was only aware of how close Cat was to her, how much she wanted to lean just a little further and brush her lips over the softness of Cat's neck, let kisses wander down the neckline of Cat's soft sweater, let her senses take in Cat's smell and taste.

  Cat seemed to notice nothing. After they finished their drinks they wandered up to the room. For a long time Cat stood at the window, only turning away from the glistening nightline as Jessica pulled the covers up to go to sleep.

  "What a city," Cat said as she went to the closet to get her nightgown.

  "I think it actually does sleep."

  "Only a little. But there's this feeling that anything could be possible." Jessica gulped. Cat turned out the light and went into the bathroom with a quiet, "Good night, Jessica."

  "Good night." She was beset with regret. The magic moment to tell Cat how she felt had come in the hotel disco — they had been so close — but Cat couldn't have heard her over the music. Maybe tomorrow. After all, anything was possible in New York. Cat had said so.

  NINE

  Fever

  They didn't get up until lunch. They decided to see more museums and then stand in line at the half-price booth to see what was available in the way of a play. Jessica felt groggy from her poor night's sleep, and a little hung-over, though she didn't remember drinking enough to justify having a hangover. She wanted to make her declaration, but she had a terrible headache. And she kept right on treasuring Cat's every move, adoring Cat's every word.

  "This will take all afternoon," Cat said as they surveyed the line.

  "Why don't we go to a comedy club instead," Jessica suggested. She didn't feel like standing in a long line in the bright sun.

  Cat thought for a moment then agreed. "There's the Improv. Let's call when we get back to the hotel to see if we can get in."

  "Look out!" Jessica yelped, pulling Cat's arm so she wouldn't try to cross the street where dozens of cabs were fighting to the death. Cat stumbled and for the briefest moment Jessica felt the full pressure of Cat's body against hers. It made her weak and breathless and warm all over.

  Unblinkingly, Cat looked at Jessica for a few moments, then pulled slowly away. "Let's go to the top of the Empire State Building," she suggested, turning away.

  "Where is it?" Jessica fumbled with the guide book, hoping her color wasn't as high as it felt.

  "Fifth Avenue, somewhere around thirty-third. A couple of blocks from here."

  The New York afternoon was relatively clear. The air was cool, but Jessica was finding the sun oppressively hot. Her skin felt as if she were getting a sunburn. She wandered around the observation floor of the Empire State Building while Cat broke out her special filters and wide-angle lens.

  "I might need more film," she said when Jessica joined up with her again.

  "It's about ten dollars a roll at the gift shop.

  Film is more expensive than the Statue of Liberty spoon," Jessica told her.

  "In that case," Cat said, "I'm through with the pictures. You seen enough?"

  "Yeah." Jessica had felt reasonably poised until she'd seen Cat concentrating in her single-minded way on taking pictures. Now she felt as if she was walking around on pavement that was a hundred degrees; the air seemed to move in the illusory waves of sweltering heat. She was hot and sticky under her sweater.

  The elevator was crowded and seemed even hotter to Jessica. Is this what swooning is all about, she asked Herself.

  "Are you all right, Jessica?" Cat asked.

  Her voice seemed very far away. "I think I need to sit down," Jessica whispered.

  Cat put her arm around Jessica's shoulders and she went weak in the knees. She wanted to throw her arms around Cat, hold her and be held until the world was right again — at least until it was cooler. She sat down on a bench.

  "What is it, Jessica, what can I do?" Cat's voice was gentle and concerned. "Would you like something cold to drink?" She started to rise.

  "No! No, just stay here with me." She felt as if she were burning up. Her mind wasn't functioning right. The ground seemed to waver and the air was oppressive.

  "We're going back to the hotel," Cat said firmly. Jessica was aware of voices and then Cat was helping her to stand. Then they were in a cab working its way back to their hotel.

  Once in the room Cat left Jessica on the bed while she got some ice. Jessica was desolate and her breath started coming in tiny, half-crying gasps. A cold cloth came out of nowhere and soothed some of the pain in her head.

  "You're burning up," Cat said, but Jessica didn't hear her. There was pounding in her ears and the room was taking on psychedelic colors. She felt hands on her body and she tried to ward them off. Her own hands were captured and held. She focused on Cat, who was stroking her head.

  "Lie still, shhh, just lie still. Everything's going to be all right. I want to make you more comfortable. Lie still," Cat whispered. Jessica closed her eyes and went limp.

  She moved again only when a T-shirt was slipped over her head and again when Cat pulled fresh underwear onto her.

  There were voices and comings and goings but she ignored them all. She was only restless when the hand holding hers went away. She found that if she whispered, "Cat," the hand came back. It was the only solid and real thing in her nightmarish world.

  She lost track of time. The room was light then dark then light, and in one of the darknesses she stirred and became aware of another body not far away from her, breathing quietly.

  It was so very hard to open her eyes and turn her head. At last she managed to move and there was Cat's face not far from hers, looking pale and tired, showing lines of stress Jessica had never seen before.

  "Cat," she said softly. She wanted to caress the beautiful face lightly but her arm didn't obey her.

  Then Cat's eyes flew open in alarm as Jessica said her name again.

  "Jessica," Cat whispered back and then she sat up, moving carefully. She laid a cool hand on Jessica's forehead and nodded. "Your fever's gone." Jessica closed her eyes and after a moment the hand moved down her face to caress her cheek.

  "Hey, don't go back to sleep. I want you to drink some water," Cat said softly and she shook Jessica just a little.

  Cat got up and went to the bathroom. In the dim light Jessica saw Cat come back with a glass
, watched her sit down on the edge of the bed. She pulled Jessica into a sitting position, cradling her in her arms. But instead of taking the glass, Jessica slid her arms around Cat. She felt Cat shiver and their embrace tightened. For a moment, Jessica felt they were connected, inseparable.

  "What's wrong with me?" she asked at last and Cat released her and held out the glass.

  "Drink first." She waited until Jessica had taken a few swallows. "You've had the measles, lord knows where you got them. I've already had them."

  "Measles," Jessica echoed as she handed the glass back. She rested again on Cat, her head comfortably cushioned by a soft shoulder and the curve of a soft breast. After a few minutes Cat laid her back down and covered her up. Jessica held out her hand and Cat took it, sitting down on the chair next to the bed.

  "You held my hand while I was sick, didn't you?" she asked dreamily. Cat's hand felt very comforting and permanent.

  "Some of the time. You calmed down that way." There was a long silence before Jessica spoke again.

  "What day is it?"

  "Tuesday."

  "Our flight?"

  "Left without us this morning. It's okay, we're booked for Thursday," Cat assured her. "You'll get well fast, don't worry. The doctor was sure you'd be fine."

  "The doctor?"

  "I got scared and called for one."

  "I'm sorry —"

  "It's not your fault. The doctor was more concerned about the consequences if you were pregnant. I told him I didn't think you were, but he said there's always a chance."

  "No, there's no chance at all that I'm pregnant," Jessica whispered and she began to slip into beckoning sleep.

  "Go to sleep," Cat whispered softly.

  "Ummm," Jessica nodded as she drifted off.

  Daylight streamed into the room and she sat up slowly. Cat was sound asleep in the other bed. By persevering, Jessica was able to stand up and find her way into the bathroom.

  She wasn't prepared. Her eyes seemed to be her only living feature, huge and burning in her splotchy face. She sat down on the John as her legs started to wobble, fumbling in the mess of cosmetics for her toothbrush. She knew she'd feel better if she could only brush her teeth.