She scarcely had time to catch Karolina's eye when Neil called out, "Helen, darling, where are you off to?"
"I have to get crosstown to a thing." She blew him a kiss and turned for the stage door, hoping Karolina wouldn't find her presumptuous.
Jimmy was his usual dearish self, and he promptly secured her a cab and ushered her through the stage door crowd to its door, deftly including Karolina in his protective sweep. She paused only once to sign an autograph, then fell laughing and breathless into the cab where Karolina was already seated. Jimmy shut the door and they pulled away into the night.
"I'm so sorry, but I simply had to get out of there. I hope you don't think I was being high-handed."
"I was flattered," Karolina said. "I thought it was because you couldn't wait to be alone."
"I can't," Helen answered in a low voice.
Karolina traced a line along the back of Helen's hand. She turned her hand over and marveled at how her body prickled and tightened in response to Karolina's fingertip across her palm.
The cab driver said something, startling Helen out of her daze.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
"Where to?"
Flushing, she gave him the address of her condo and he quickly turned toward Midtown.
Karolina leaned very close and whispered in her ear, "I have seen a great many late-night specials about what goes on in cabs."
The thought made Helen want to ease open her thighs, but she whispered back, "There isn't a cab driver in this town that doesn't have a camera phone."
"What a pity. You'll just have to wait."
Her breath caught at the liquid fire in Karolina's eyes. She felt heavy with desire. Unlike on the cruise ship, she knew exactly what she wanted. She knew what it felt like to be pinned underneath another woman's body and open herself to kisses, to touches. She wanted to feel Karolina's soft hair against her thighs. And she wanted to do all those things to Karolina, to explore her and feel again a kind of power that she had never experienced before.
Under her coat she was sweating. Karolina's tracings across her palm and along her arm were making her nipples ache. She feared loss of control but wanted to revel in abandonment. It was a complex mixture, and it was so hard to think when her body was screaming now, now, now.
The doorman met the cab and welcomed her home after another triumphant appearance. Moments later they were alone in the elevator.
"You stay over there." Helen pointed at the far corner. "I can't breathe."
"I do prefer my women breathing," Karolina answered.
"You look so good." She did, too, wrapped in an elegant trench coat in a deep green that made her eyes glitter.
"So do you."
"I'm a mess," Helen protested. "I need a shower."
"We can do that."
The elevator doors opened and Helen managed to find her key. The condo was cold, but she quickly turned up the heat. "It'll get warm in a-"
Karolina seized her by the shoulders and kissed her. Their hands found ties and zippers and belts. She heard a blouse rip, wasn't sure which of them it was, and then they were on the soft carpet, half on top of their coats and shirts.
She pleaded, said words that had never come easily to her but were so right.
Karolina pushed her legs apart and said, "That's exactly what I'm going to do."
Her breath was ragged in her throat. She wanted to scream but couldn't manage more than a hoarse shout. Karolina held her close, mouth on her breasts, while she touched again places Helen still couldn't believe could feel so much-could need so much. She climaxed with another shout, then Karolina was laughing and kissing her face.
"Let's move to the bed and do that again."
Helen found no reason to argue.
It wasn't until sleep had nearly claimed her that Helen realized they'd forgotten something important. "Your suitcase," she murmured.
Karolina made a sound that said she was barely awake. "I guess I'll just have to go about the house naked."
"Delicious thought." She resisted sleep long enough to add, "We can ask the doorman to arrange for it to be delivered."
"Oh, but I want to be naked."
Helen laughed quietly and let her hand explore Karolina's delicious backside. Karolina stretched in response and then shifted suggestively. Helen laughed again and said, "Not so sleepy after all?"
They'd just reached a satisfactory state of not-really-asleep when the phone rang. Only a few people knew the number and it jarred Helen out of her singular focus.
"I think I have to get that," she murmured apologetically.
Karolina groaned. "I'll expect you to make up for this."
"Oh, I will." She kissed her soft lips quickly, then leaned across the bed for the handset.
The line crackled, then Cass's voice slapped at her ear with, "I had to hear about it from a gossip columnist! A gossip columnist. I could kill you!"
Oh, hell. "Cass, I'm so sorry. I should have called you-I just got distracted."
"What on earth could possibly distract you from what the hell you're going to do if you get replaced in the next thirty days?"
"Maybe I have a life, Cass."
"You? You're kidding, right? Wait-you're not alone. Crap, the new girlfriend arrived tonight?"
"Yes, and I didn't find out about it until right before the show. Oh jeez." With the fever for Karolina's touch sated, her brain began to operate properly. "I forgot to text the kids even."
"Can I have the honor of meeting with you tomorrow morning? Let's say ten?"
"There's no reason to be sarcastic. Of course. I'd like you to meet Karolina."
"Another time. This is a business meeting. Maybe you could come by my office?"
Annoyed, Helen agreed because it was the only way to get Cass to hang up. Besides, when Cass was angry the only cure was to let her stew. She'd be a little more pleasant-minded in the morning.
"What was that all about?"
"Changes in the play." Helen tried to lose herself in the warmth of Karolina's embrace, but even as they snuggled close and Karolina drifted off to sleep she knew it would be a while before she joined her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"The Halloween dances were apparently acceptable, but neither of the kids had much to say when they got in last night." Laura stifled a yawn. This was her fourth Sunday of picking Helen up and she was still not used to it. Keeping one hand on the minivan's steering wheel, she snagged the coffee mug and drained the last of it.
"It can't be particularly comfortable having your sibling at the same event. I'm surprised they both went. They usually switch off." Last week Helen had opted to crash on the backseat of the van-she'd looked exhausted-but this week she was buckled into the passenger seat.
"Well," Laura said slowly, "it's possible both of them were really there sort of on a prearranged meet-up with someone else, not really a date, you understand."
"Well, if they've got boy or girlfriends they're really going to hate me for a while."
She gave Helen a curious look. Her month of filling in as house manager was just about up, but Helen hadn't said anything about replacing her. She didn't want to push. She didn't want this time to end. She didn't want to give up these quiet drives with Helen, the easygoing conversations they had in the mornings or the quick phone calls. But she knew it was temporary, and this job was not what she had planned to do with her life.
"Sounds like something big is in the wind," was all Laura said.
"Yeah." Helen stared out the window, giving Laura time to reflect on all the phone calls she'd noticed between Helen's cell phone and a number with a Chicago area code. She hadn't been prying-it was her job to check the bill for irregularities, and she'd done that by comparing it to the previous month's. Was Helen dating someone finally? Was that why she had seemed distracted and a little bit subdued? Hadn't there been some high-powered executive on that cruise that Helen had mentioned, offhand? She'd been almost too casual about it.
"Is there someplace we can get some breakfast? I know it's six o'clock on a Sunday morning, but I need to talk to you and I don't think I can sleep until I do."
"I can make-"
"I know you can." Helen gave an odd little half laugh. "I think Justin would wake up if he smelled food. And I'd like to talk just by ourselves."
"Well, there's always a diner, or the Golden Arches."
"You darken that establishment's door?"
"I'll confess to an Egg McMuffin now and again."
Helen laughed. "In New York there's this Greek diner just down from my condo that makes this egg and spaghetti breakfast with creamed spinach and feta cheese that I have to tell you looks revolting on the plate and I scarf it down in about three bites."
"Comfort food is comfort food." Laura took the next off-ramp, which dumped them into Burlingame. She skirted the old-town main street where nothing would be open and found an industrial park smack up against the freeway where early morning deliveries were already being loaded. Right in the middle was a brightly lit deli with an open sign.
"The Smelly Deli. Best coffee in the Bay Area, it says. We've hit the mother lode. Look, they even have a banquet room," Helen noted.
"Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death."
"How apropos," Helen said, leaving a puzzled Laura to follow her inside.
They had mugs of coffee and plates of eggs and toast in front of them before Helen seemed to want to take up whatever it was she needed to say. Laura had a sudden dread-had she somehow found out that Laura was the recovering cocaine addict she'd met on the roller coaster all those years ago? Had she lost Helen's trust somehow?
Helen had a bite of her sourdough toast, but looked as if it were sawdust in her mouth. "The first thing that's happened is that this Friday night is my final performance with Look the Other Way. I've known about that for three weeks or so, but I was hoping when I told the kids I could tell them I was being cast in something new. It was silly-I know I could have told them about the uncertainty. But a long time ago I knew someone who'd lost everything and yet she'd gotten right back up, listened to her heart and made a plan. I've always tried to do that. It's what a strong person does. But I've never been thanked for my services and shown the door because of my age before. I still can't believe my producer caved so easily given my box office draw."
Shocked, Laura said, "I'd read that Neil Fortney was moving on to something new, but there wasn't anything about you being replaced." Laura hoped she didn't sound as if she'd been poring over the Internet for news about Helen, even if it was sort of true, mostly.
"They kept that hush-hush because there was a chance they'd replace him with someone who fit with me, age-wise. According to them, that is."
"But they got Greg Littleton-he's thirty-three? Thirty-four?"
"Thirty-four. And I'm fifty. And I guess some people thought that in spite of my talent and history that I'd come off desperate instead of funny in my plans to trap him. They recast Moxie this week with some thirty-something former soap actress and paid off my contract. Whatever. And I exercised my right to end the run on Friday. I could have made it two more weeks, but I decided I could use a vacation now rather than later."
Wondering if Helen would be in California all the time, then, Laura decided not to ask questions yet. Helen was tired and obviously depressed-maybe she just needed to talk. She peppered her eggs and offered the shaker to Helen, who tended to put pepper on everything. A place like this couldn't survive if they didn't know how to produce good scrambled eggs, and they were as simple, hot and filling as she had expected.
"Cass and I put our heads together and she turned up a couple of successful off-Broadway producers who want to move up to Times Square ventures, but need more backing and some star power. As close to a sure thing as they could get. Under other circumstances, I wouldn't be a guinea pig for unproven producers, but the details got better the more they talked. It looks like it's going to happen, and very quickly."
Laura cocked her head. Helen didn't look pleased. "And that's a bad thing?"
"No, actually. It's a good thing. But it changes everything. It's a revival of Auntie Mame."
Laura smiled. "That's why my banquet quote was apropos. I see."
"I'm perfect for it. Perfect enough that I'm willing to invest some of the capital, which a lot of actors are doing these days to get production credit and some production control. It means living in New York for the next two to three months at least, probably longer. Rehearsals, venue checks-I'm one of the producers now, I guess. I've made that bed and I have to jump up and down on it singing hallelujah. I've kind of always dreamed of being Mame… When I got older." She let out a large sigh. "And now I am."
Laura wiped her fingers on her napkin, then patted Helen's hand. "Ambivalence is a bitch, isn't it?"
"To say the least. I'm really very excited about it, underneath it all. But it means the kids living in New York because I won't be able to fly home for even two days a week. As wonderful as you are for all of us, I won't be a stranger to them, not after all these years of somehow making it all work."
Laura hoped the utter dismay she felt didn't show in her face. She felt paralyzed.
"I talked to their school administrator, and they can work out a transition to a private school in Manhattan. I really, really don't want to disrupt their junior year but I don't see another choice where I stay working. Julie has her herb garden planned, all for nothing. It might seem silly, but Justin's skateboarding tribe is really important to him. I don't want this to hurt their lives. But I can't afford to get canned because people think I'm too old to dazzle. I have to bounce right back in their face. I am box office, damn it."
"They're strong kids, Helen," Laura managed to say. "Lots of families have to move at a moment's notice. Everyone adapts." So I'm out of a job, Laura thought to herself, and there's no reason really to have the apartment if I'm not working in the area. All good things must come to an end, she tried telling herself, but her toast actually did taste like sawdust.
After a hard swallow, she said, "Talk to them. They understand what sacrifice is. They need to make some-and this is not a walk in the park for you. It's risky. And you will miss your home as much as they will."
"If all goes well, I may be able to modify my schedule, but I'm doubtful. This could be how they end their high school years. Two months of their junior year is already gone."
"Time surely does fly." Laura quickly had a bite of eggs to stop herself from talking. It was hard to see Helen wince.
"I want to ask you something I've no right to ask. It's completely off the wall, but it can't hurt to ask, can it?"
Laura gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Did Helen want her to caretake the house or something? "So ask."
"Will you come to New York with us?"
Laura's stomach lurched like she'd just been launched into the sky. She froze with her fork halfway to her mouth, and it took all of her self-control not to throw her hands up and scream yes, not caring where the ride went as long as it was with Helen. From the depths of dreading that they'd come to a parting of the ways and realizing she was going to spend a long time trying to unlove Helen, she was suddenly on top of the world.
But it wouldn't be with Helen, she told herself. Helen wouldn't be on the ride with her, holding her hand. She would only be nearby. Helen would be counting on her, trusting her, needing her, but not in the way that Laura had begun to crave.
There was desperate hope in Helen's eyes. "Just until we know for sure if this is a go. Probably through January? But if you can't I understand. It's not like this is why you went to culinary school or worked for all those years to have a great reputation and incredible skill. I have no idea what your heart tells you it wants. But I have to ask. It would just make it so much easier to get life settled because you know us, you know the kids, you know Julie's diet and you could-"
"I could get the sources of food that's safe for her figured out. I know
better than anyone that in New York what someone says they're selling you may not be what arrives in the box." There, she thought. She would be doing something still related to being a chef. And she'd walk away with a stellar reference. Those were good reasons to say yes.
Of course, a great reason to say no was that she was pretty sure she was in love with Helen Baynor, the woman who looked worried and tired and hopeful and about to cry. Every professional instinct said she knew what happened when women put their professional lives on hold for emotional reasons. They lost ground and opportunities. It was a fool's choice.
"I don't know what to say, Helen, honestly," she hedged.
"It's crazy. Forget I asked. It's a huge imposition. You have a life you're trying to get onto a new track, and you've no lions to slay in New York, and maybe you're seeing someone and I have no right to presume you'll say yes. I know it's not about money. I can throw a lot of money at you, but that's not what drives you. I could tell that the day we met. I don't know what to say except it would be wonderful to know I had you to count on." Helen gave an almost disbelieving laugh. "I respect everything about you and I think I could look for years and not find another you. I haven't a clue what I did right that brought you into our lives."
They were wonderful words to hear-if only they'd been meant differently. Laura realized she should tell Helen that they'd met before, just come clean about it because it was so stupid that she hadn't. What would that sound like, though? And her other secret: "Hey Helen, guess what, you've let a recovering cocaine addict into your family's circle, surprise!" And she could spend the next two hours trying to explain why it didn't matter. So if it didn't matter, why did she have to tell? It was such a stupid, useless merry-go-round.
She didn't think she could bear it if Helen reacted the way Suzy had, that was for certain. That was the bottom line. Besides, Helen looked as if she would break right now. Her ego was shattered and yet she could answer the insult to her age with a triumphant signature performance-success was the best revenge. It meant turning her family upside-down at the same time she was perfecting a new role and trying some aspects of producing, stretching herself in new ways where there was no script to guide her.
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