Awake Unto Me (24 page)

Kerry saw that a couple had entered. “Shall we walk around to the other side?” she asked abruptly.

She took Beth’s arm and they went around to the other side of the pool to a bench. She drew Beth over to it and they sat down. She prayed the couple wouldn’t follow them. Kerry was feeling even warmer; she could feel the sweat on her forehead, although it wasn’t much hotter than the Palace kitchen during a busy service.

“It wasn’t hard,” Beth said, “for I didn’t love him.”

Kerry said nothing. Beth still had a distant pensive look, but she sounded decisive, as though her mind was made up about something.

“And something else. I saw something, heard something.”

Kerry was looking at her closely. “Yes?” Kerry said, to encourage her.

“There were two nurses,” Beth said, “part of our staff. They were very good friends. I heard them talking, saw them. They didn’t know I was there.”

She was speaking in a very low tone, forcing Kerry to strain to listen. Kerry was scarcely breathing and listening so intently she felt she might faint.

“They have a…a connection…they were, are, they…” Beth was clearly very close to tears. “They were in love with each other. I saw them kiss,” she finally said.

Kerry swallowed, not wanting to interrupt Beth. But down in her heart, she began to hope.
She has finally realized. She knows. She knows!
Kerry didn’t want to speak, even though she was desperate to hear what Beth would say next. She willed herself to be patient. Beth stared at the giant tropical plants for what seemed like a long, long time.

“Dearest Kerry?” Beth turned and looked her in the eye. “Are you in love with me?”

Beth’s expression was tender and compassionate and Kerry relaxed a little bit, but the question hung in the humid, hot air of the greenhouse. Kerry realized that she had to answer truthfully. The chance she had been praying for had come at last, and she had to summon her courage and roll the dice.

“Yes, Beth. Yes, I’m in love with you.”

“I thought so,” Beth said simply. “I wasn’t sure but now you have confirmed it.” There was another long silence.

Kerry took a deep breath. “I fell in love with you the exact moment I looked into your eyes after you spilled the coffee at Addison’s reception and I came to help you clean up.”

“Oh, Kerry. These many months—you never said.”

“I didn’t want to offend you. I wanted to be your friend. I wanted you to like me.”

“I do like you, very much,” Beth said softly, absently tracing one of Kerry’s fingers with her own.

“But you don’t love me?” Kerry asked sadly.

“Oh, Kerry, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about love.”

“Let me show you then.” Kerry glanced around, and by some miracle they were alone.

Kerry put her arms around her and pulled her close. Beth tensed but didn’t pull away, and Kerry pulled her even closer before kissing her, reveling in the sweet softness of Beth’s perfect lips. Kerry didn’t want to take advantage of Beth’s acquiescence and press her too hard so she stopped the kiss, resting her forehead against Beth’s. She swept her thumb over Beth’s trembling lips.

“That is how much I love you.”

“Yes?” Beth said, a little breathlessly. “I believe I’m in love with you but I don’t know.” She shook her head fretfully.

“Next week, Addison and Laura are going away for a month to see her family in Kansas City. Will you come and stay with me? We’ll have a chance to be alone. Just us.”

“Yes. I must think of what to tell my parents, but yes, I’ll come stay with you.”

Kerry was overjoyed but still fearful. She knew exactly what she wanted, but she was still terrified of offending Beth, who was, it seemed, in spite of her profession and all her time around sick people, a complete innocent. Nothing so far had indicated to Kerry that Beth understood all the implications of being in love or being physical with someone. Kerry had plenty of experience physically, but love was just as foreign to her as it was to Beth. She had never loved Sally. But she knew, with every fiber of her being, that she loved Beth and that they belonged together. If only Beth would give them a chance, they could become lovers.

*

A few days later, Kerry drove Addison and Laura to the train station, who looked happier than she had ever seen them. Kerry was surprised Addison had agreed to a trip to Kansas so soon after he got back from the Philippines. Usually they took the trip to Kansas once a year, and Kerry had never noticed Addison being excited about seeing his in-laws.
Their reunion must have been successful.
She was not, however, disposed to question it because of the opportunity it presented her and Beth. Laura was dewy-eyed and clingy with Addison and had become much less inclined to bother with Kerry. Kerry was glad Addison had also come home safely and even more grateful that Laura was so taken up with him. He had been a wonderful guardian when she was truly lost, and all she wanted was to see him happy.

When she had dropped off Addison and Laura, she drove as quickly as she could to Beth’s home to retrieve her and her luggage. George and Frieda, looking puzzled as well as resigned, stood outside the store to wave good-bye. Beth gave them each a quick hug and kiss.

She took her place next to Kerry in the carriage seat and gave her a smile of such brilliance and promise, Kerry laughed out loud as she clicked the reins to get the horses going. The day was one of the clear, cool ones that often brightened San Francisco’s winter. To Kerry and Beth, the houses and streets of the city looked especially fine in the winter sun. They reached the Grant home on Fillmore Street, and Kerry helped Beth down from the carriage and took her suitcase from the back.

“Wait here a moment. I’ll just take the horses down the street to the stable and I’ll come right back.”

Beth, who looked a little unsure and was blushing in very pretty fashion, nodded and watched as Kerry led the horses down the street.

Kerry had cleaned the house top to bottom and planned and shopped for food. She didn’t feel confident in or in control of many things, but she could at least make sure Beth was well fed. She had told Chef Henri point-blank she would only be coming in for luncheon service for a few weeks. Chef’s mustaches twitched but he nodded. Kerry knew he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he considered her his best cook. She had heard him say a woman could never be sous-chef, but she had still become a favorite of his and she used that to her advantage.

“I don’t want to rush you. We can sleep separately…” Kerry said shyly as they brought in Beth’s suitcases.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t sleep in Addison and Laura’s bed.” Beth’s eyes flew open in alarm and Kerry winced.
She hasn’t been here for five minutes and I’ve already put my foot in my mouth.

“Rush me?” Beth asked, honestly confused.

“Never mind. Please forget what I said. It was silly.”

“You’re quite endearing when you’re trying to be accommodating. I’m quite sure we’ll be fine, as we always have been when sharing a bed,” Beth said with a note of her old certainty.

Kerry thought, Perhaps you were fine but I was a mass of nerves and unsatisfied urges.

“Of course.”

*

They had a candlelight dinner. Beth was charmed and touched by the romance of it, and more so by Kerry’s obvious efforts to make her feel cared for. Their togetherness had a feel of comfortable domesticity that made Beth think of the overheard conversations from the hospital ship and Florence’s plaintive question, “When shall we be able to live together?” It was obvious this was what poor Florence longed for with Marjorie, and the lack of it hurt her.

During a lull in the conversation, Beth said, matter of factly, “Addison feels I might make a good doctor.”

Kerry stopped with her fork midway to her mouth. “He does?”

“Yes. He does.” Beth described the patients and what Addison had told her.

“Well, what do you think?” Kerry asked.

“I don’t know, truly. It’s an idea I’ve never entertained.”

“Addison wouldn’t be wrong about something like that. He wouldn’t say so if he didn’t believe it. I think you’d be a great doctor.”

Beth acknowledged Kerry’s compliment with a smile. “Because it’s not something I’ve ever thought of, I must think of it longer.”

Kerry nodded and went back to eating.

During another pause Beth could see Kerry was nervous and at a loss for words. “You’ve never yet told me about your childhood.”

“I did indeed. I told you my mother died when I was born and my father raised me until he died and made Addison my guardian.”

“Yes, but you’ve been a little short on detail, Kerry dearest. I’ve told you all about Mama and Papa.”

Kerry took a gulp of wine. Stalling for time, she asked, “What do you think of the wine? I asked the sommelier for advice.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed. “It’s very nice, I’m sure, but stop trying to divert me. We’re here to get to know one another. I’d rather you answer my question.”

“What is it you wish to know?”

“Where your people came from and where you lived and what your father’s profession was. Things of that nature. Not unusual things.”

“I have no wish to speak of it. It’s too painful.”

Beth had had a glass and a half of wine already, and Kerry could see she was clearly feeling it. Her color was high and her eyes bright. Kerry was hoping for that effect but she didn’t expect to unleash a mass of curious questions.

“If I’m going to be in love with you, don’t you think I deserve to know?”

“It’s of no consequence to us now. There’s only us and here and now,” Kerry retorted. When she envisioned the time she would spend with Beth, she’d thought only of the sweet progress of physical intimacy. She didn’t think she would be discussing her past.

“Why do you not wish to tell me anything? It has always been this way with you. Now you claim to love me and yet you don’t trust me.”

To Kerry’s great astonishment, Beth flung her napkin down on the table and walked away.

Kerry caught up with Beth in the parlor and took her arm. “Please,” she said, “I’m sorry. Come back to the table. I don’t wish to anger you. Quite the opposite.”

“Well?” Beth raised her eyebrows.

Kerry grasped then that Beth was just as anxious as she—maybe more so. She had never seen her be quick to anger.

“Come back to the table, please sit down. Let’s finish supper.”

Beth let herself be guided into the chair. “Thank you for making this wonderful supper. It’s delicious.”

“It’s a pleasure to cook for you, Beth. I can see you’re too thin,” Kerry said.

“Oh, really? You’ve noticed my figure?”

“Yes. But it’s more that I care about you.”

“I see. Kerry dearest, I want us to know each other. That’s why I ask you about yourself. Please don’t be angry.”

Kerry weighed Beth’s words against her natural self-defense and decided it was worth the risk. “My mother was a whore. My father was a crimper and sometimes a gambler. They weren’t married,” she said abruptly, before taking a long drink of wine.

Beth paused with a fork halfway to her mouth. She put it down. “I see why you were so reluctant to tell me. What’s a crimper though?”

“He kidnapped sailors for the ships. The captains paid him to drug them and deliver them.”

Beth shuddered.

“There’s more,” Kerry said. She took another sip of wine.

Beth’s eyes widened but she merely nodded for Kerry to continue.

“I helped him. I used to go down to the wharfs and get the sailors to the Grey Dog saloon, so’s Jack could knock ’em out and tie ’em up for delivery to another ship’s captain.”

“How in the world did Addison ever meet your father?”

Kerry told her the story.

“Oh, that I can see. Addison thinking he could best everyone at cards.” She grew serious again and asked, “But what happened to your father?”

“I can’t talk about that, really. Don’t try to make me.” This time she took a very large gulp of wine and refilled her glass and Beth’s as well. Under Beth’s questioning, she was starting to remember what had happened.

“I won’t. I’m just curious.”

“Now you think I’m a horrible person.” Kerry dropped her shoulders and absently traced the rim of the wineglass with her fingertip.

“No, I don’t. It was the life you were given. You cannot be held responsible for it.”

Kerry trembled violently and burst into tears. “I am though. It was all my fault.”

“What was all your fault?” Beth demanded.

This time, Kerry got up and left the table and went outside. It wasn’t past eight o’clock but was dark as midnight. She stared up at the sky, breathing deeply to stop the flood of tears. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Kerry?” Beth said very gently. “Tell me, darling. Tell me what it is.”

Kerry turned and wept onto Beth’s shoulder and neck. Then she haltingly told her the story about Big Moe, Sally, Teddy, and their plot. She left out the details of her relationship with Sally.