Awake Unto Me (25 page)

Beth listened and stroked her hair. “Kerry dearest. It’s all in the past now. You’re different. Besides, I couldn’t care for someone who was a bad person. Therefore, you’re good.”

Kerry wiped her tears away and looked at Beth. “This isn’t how I wanted our first evening to turn out. I envisioned something far different.”

“Ah, yes, but you can’t predict these things, can you? You’ve never told anyone, have you?”

“Addison knows,” Kerry said.

“And he’s an honorable man. He didn’t reject you or send you away.”

“No, but he had promised Jack—my father—to take me in.”

“I’m not going to send you away either,” Beth said seriously. “I think we’re destined to be together.”

Kerry wiped away more tears and smiled. “You do?”

“I do.”

*

In the end, Kerry didn’t remember getting to bed or to sleep. She woke up next to Beth, both of them modestly clad in nightgowns. Her head hurt and her mouth tasted foul. She happily watched Beth sleep for a while until her urge to urinate was too powerful and she had to go out to the necessary.

When she came back, Beth was awake. Her smile was so loving Kerry thought for a fevered instant that they had made love. But she knew that wasn’t true. In spite of the hangover, Kerry felt lighter. It hadn’t been the end of the world, after all, to tell Beth the truth.

“Do you think you could teach me to handle the carriage and the horses?” Beth asked.

“I don’t see why not, but I thought you liked me to drive?”

“I do, silly, but when you’re at the restaurant, I don’t want to be stuck here. I thought I might drive over to the Presidio and talk to Major Owen. Or go see my parents. Maybe.” She made an unpleasant face that made Kerry laugh. “I’ll get very bored here all by myself.”

“Oh, of course. I know you’re used to being busy all the time. I thought you might like to be idle for a bit. You can clean the house and shop and—”

“Oh? I can be like a housewife?” Beth asked with an edge. “Like Laura?” she added acidly.

“Um, no. Not exactly. And certainly not like Laura.”

“Well, certainly not. Don’t look so woebegone. I’m not angry.”

They were easier with each other after Kerry’s confession. It was a true pleasure to be together. Kerry thought constantly of how to approach the idea of their physical relationship but could find no solution. Sally had been the one in charge, and Kerry was young and easily led. She knew she must take the lead with Beth, but she was afraid.

It was more torture than ever to be together so much and so close but, in Kerry’s mind, not nearly close enough. Beth was tender and affectionate, but she also was obviously unaware of the physical realities of love. Kerry knew that it was up to her and she was terrified.

*

Kerry came home from the Palace luncheon service in the late afternoon, a few days after their tearful, wine-soaked supper, with a plan in mind. She rather reluctantly dismissed the idea of having any wine with dinner. It wasn’t typical of their household, and its effect on her and Beth wasn’t helpful.

“I wish Addison had a piano,” she remarked, “so you could play for us in the evening.”

“Yes, it’s a pity. We would have to go and visit my parents.”

“We could, I mean, if you wish.” Kerry didn’t relish the idea of unrelieved hours in the presence of George and Frieda, but she was willing to endure it for Beth’s sake. She was both puzzled at and grateful for Beth’s distant relationship with her parents. She didn’t think they liked her very much. She was sure they didn’t understand her or Beth’s relationship with her. It was probably just as well.

“Yes, we could,” Beth said, with little enthusiasm.

“Well, in the meantime, would you come sit next to me?” Kerry asked sweetly, but with a certain tone she hoped Beth would respond to.

“I would be charmed, I’m sure,” Beth said, flirtatiously.

They sat next to one another, their hands in their laps and their eyes straight ahead. Kerry hesitantly put an arm around Beth’s shoulders. Beth sat still for a moment, then nestled next to Kerry with a little sigh. Kerry rubbed her shoulder and turned to smell her hair. She nuzzled and inhaled deeply; it had been washed recently, Kerry noted, and wondered if that was for her or just a coincidence.

Beth put both arms around Kerry’s waist and kissed her neck. Kerry’s body temperature spiked and a shiver of pure physical craving shot through her. She lifted Beth’s chin and kissed her. Their lips molded together and they broke the kiss to catch their breaths.

Beth was immersed in the sensations swirling through various parts of her body. Kerry’s lips were incredibly soft and her kisses demanding in a not-unpleasant way.
Closer. More.
That was the message Kerry was sending, and Beth wanted to respond. She was surprised when Kerry scooped an arm under her legs and lifted her onto her lap.

“My dear, I’m too heavy for you.” Beth was an inch or so taller than Kerry and solid from all the physical demands of nursing.

“No,” Kerry said, between kisses, “you’re not.” Beth didn’t know how long they sat that way, kissing until they were breathless, breaking off to hug tightly and begin again. Kerry’s strong hands stroked her back and arms. Their combined body heat and rising desires made them both begin to loosen their clothes.

“Tell me.” Kerry panted. “Tell me if you want me to stop. I don’t want you to be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.” It was true. Beth wanted to go on.

Kerry whispered, “Let’s go to bed.”

For some reason, those words and the tone in which they were uttered made Beth quiver. She nodded.

They staggered upstairs and fell on the bed, still kissing desperately. Beth closed her eyes and felt Kerry reach under her clothes, seeking bare skin.

Beth gasped at the touch. Her eyes were closed, and suddenly a jolt of fear and disgust shot through her. Suddenly, horribly, it wasn’t Kerry touching her. It was Reverend Svenhard. Beth sat bolt upright, screaming, “No!” She pushed Kerry so hard, she fell off the bed onto the floor.

Kerry jumped up immediately and knelt on the bed next to Beth. “Beth!” she cried. “What happened? What’s the matter?” She was obviously terrified she had hurt Beth in some way.

Beth had rolled over on her side and curled into a fetal position, sobs wracking her body.

“Leave me alone, I can’t. I can’t. Stop. Go away.”

“If you want…I will,” she said.

“Just don’t touch me,” Beth said, in a tight, hoarse whisper.

“No, not if you don’t want me to.”

Beth heard the door close softly and she sobbed that much harder.

Laura stared dreamily out the window of the train. They were on their way back home from Kansas City and the train, at that moment, was going through the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Laura barely registered the magnificent view of snow-capped peaks. She was thinking about the conversations with her father. She had primed him ahead of time so that their next-to-last day there he brought up an idea.

“Addison, what about you and Laura Jean moving back here? You can join my practice and then take over when I retire in a few years. I know it can be hard to build up a good practice from scratch—”

“Due respect, sir, but I must politely refuse your kind offer. I am very satisfied with my work in San Francisco City and County hospital and with the army,” Addison had said. And since Dr. Matheson respected Addison, his only response was to compliment Addison’s patriotism.

Laura, however, wasn’t ready to let it go. She had been waiting for a moment to bring it up again. They were three days into the trip and Addison was sufficiently relaxed. For some reason Laura couldn’t comprehend, visits to her parents usually set him on edge.

“Addison, darling?” Laura said, turning from the window to focus on him.

“Hmm?” he answered distractedly. He was reading a novel for once,
David Copperfield
.

“Addison!” she said more sharply when he didn’t look up. “Please do stop reading. I wish to talk to you about something important.”

He dutifully put a finger on his page and closed the book and looked at her expectantly.

“Why did you refuse Papa’s offer?” she said, and couldn’t quite keep the petulance out of her voice.

“I have no wish to go into private practice or live in Kansas City, my love. Is that hard to understand?”

“Yes, it is. I don’t understand why you don’t want to better yourself and improve our lives.”

“Laura, you’ve said often enough how much you prefer San Francisco to the provincialism of Kansas City. What has changed your mind?”

“We could live in a nicer neighborhood. We could hire a servant. You wouldn’t have to work such long hours. You know all the reasons! Papa has a very well-to-do clientele and they would adore you—”

“That all may be true, love, but I don’t wish to move. I’m happy where I am. Let us please not pursue this. I ask you to adjust your thinking and accept things as they are.”

“Very well, “she said gracelessly, and fell silent.

“Addison?” she said after an interval of perhaps five minutes. “Could you ask Kerry to find other housing when we return?”

This time, he brought his brows together. “Why ever would you ask me that? I have said she may reside with us as long as she wishes.”

The memory of their argument before Addison came home was fresh in Laura’s mind, but she feigned nonchalance. “Oh,” she said, “I thought it might be time. She isn’t a child any longer. She’s employed.”

“I promised her father,” he said, but Laura broke in.

“Oh, surely you’ve discharged that debt. I don’t see why—”

“No,” Addison said. “She will have a home with us as long as she desires. I ask you to still your questions now and leave me to my book, my love.”

He spoke neutrally but with a certain note of finality that left Laura simmering with resentment.
This is not the end of this discussion. I must persuade him. I’ll think of something.

*

After Kerry and Beth’s aborted attempted at lovemaking, they had both fallen into restless sleep. The next day, they said nothing beyond the necessary communications of everyday life. Kerry didn’t know what to say and Beth was silent from guilt. Kerry made small fusses over making their meals and trying to get Beth to eat something. Beth would smile faintly and refuse. She had no idea what to say or what to do. So she chose to say nothing and do nothing. She thought she had made a mistake in coming to stay with Kerry.
I shall have to return to Mama and Papa and get back to work at the store until I can find another private post. This is too uncomfortable for both of us.

On the second night, they got into bed without speaking. Beth lay still, trying to will herself to sleep.

Kerry leaned on one elbow and looked down into her eyes and touched her cheek. “Beth. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Is it something I did?”

She spoke with so much patience and tenderness, Beth longed to tell her the truth.
I can’t.
After a long pause, Beth sighed.

“No, it was nothing to do with you. I’m sorry that you’re upset. Let’s try to go to sleep.” Beth turned over with her back to Kerry.

“What can I do?” Kerry pleaded.

“There’s nothing. Please just let me be.”

“But I’m worried. Are you ill? Are you hurt?”

“No. Nothing of that nature. Please don’t worry. Now we must go to sleep.”

Beth was aware that Kerry stared at her for a few more moments before lying down, and though her heart ached, she said nothing.

Beth lay awake with her mind racing. She was quite sure what ailed her. She was lying to Kerry. Something was wrong: the memory—sudden, sharp, and ghastly—of herself as a thirteen-year-old undergoing Svenhard’s violation. It wasn’t Kerry who had touched her. It had been him. The memory she had successfully buried roared back to life. In her rational mind, she knew that Kerry, not him, was touching her, yet it was like she was there, in that stuffy, horrible office, the smelly, sweaty stench of him surrounding her, the Bible open to some arbitrary page.

Kerry’s touch, though, was something a part of her desperately craved. She was terrified, though, if Kerry touched her again, it would be exactly the same and she would recoil, thrust back to her victimized childhood. She wasn’t able to decide which was worse—her feelings or their effect on Kerry, who looked so terribly wounded and confused.
It’s impossible to disclose or discuss it. Once she knows, she may never even want to speak to me or even see me again. She will think me used and dirty. It’s possible we’ll never be as she wants us to be or as I want us to be with this standing between us. If I keep silent we can perhaps be friends, but that’s all.

Kerry watched her all the time, she knew. She was waiting for something different. The watchfulness was tempered with fear. But it was fear Beth couldn’t do anything to relieve.

*

Their time together sped by and they settled into a numb, uneasy routine. They still went to the park and downtown. They did not, by silent mutual agreement, return to the Sutro Baths. Just as she had when left alone with Laura, Kerry spent most of her time at work.