Awake Unto Me (35 page)

She put her arms around him. “It shall just be us now, and the peace and quiet will be glorious. I do think it will be good for us, don’t you?”

He looked down at her and disengaged her arms. “You may think so, if you wish. I no longer find I have much feeling for you at all.”

She stepped back, looking surprised and searching his face for his meaning.

“We will continue to be married. Like you, I’ve no wish for scandal. Rest assured, no one will know anything is wrong.”

“Addison—”

“No. Don’t say a thing. You’ve said quite enough already. You have my name. You and I will continue to occupy this house as usual. You no longer may expect any tenderness or affection from me. You’re a meddling, mean, vain, and unhappy woman.”

Laura paled. “Addison, please. I thought—”

“Laura, I no longer care what you think or what you feel or what you want. I’ve given you your wish. Your treatment of Beth and Kerry convinces me you are a woman completely lacking in empathy, understanding, or generosity. To keep you happy, I have turned away a friend’s child whom I have come to think of as my own and broken a promise. But you’re happy. And, of course, that is what matters most.”

Addison walked out, his heart heavier than his footsteps.

*

“I think that what I want, aside from a comfortable room in a place that is convenient for both of us, is a piano.”

It took some searching but they finally found a room to rent in a house on upper Divisadero owned by a widow. It wasn’t far from the Presidio but also on the cable car route and only a mile and a half from the Grants’ home, although they wouldn’t be visiting often, if at all. It had a view of the San Francisco Bay. Beth joked that the uphill walk back home from the hospital would prevent her from becoming too fat from Kerry’s cooking. Kerry would be able to ride the California Street cable car downtown to the Palace Hotel. The widow was distinctly disinterested in her two tenants other than that they paid their rent on time and didn’t make noise. In her downstairs parlor was a reasonably good piano and the widow, Mrs. Thompson, said, “No one has ever had an interest. Please feel free to play as often as you like.”

“We must save money,” Beth said, ever the practical one. “With what you have saved, some day we can buy a house, even while paying rent here.”

Kerry agreed. She could think of nothing better than that she and Beth would share a home together rather than merely a room. But she still hadn’t quite forgiven Addison.

Beth said, “If you look at it from his perspective, he had to do it for his wife. You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I would, you know I would.”

“Then you understand why Addison had to do what he did.”

Kerry was still sore, but she had no wish to quarrel with Beth. She had to admit it was a relief to be away from Laura’s constant aura of distaste and distrust, even if it came at the price of losing her attachment to Addison.

It was January first, 1900, and San Francisco citizens welcomed the New Year, the new decade, and the new century. Though the papers said the new century wouldn’t officially begin until 1901, the common folk thought it still began at midnight, 1899. On New Year’s Day, Beth and Kerry walked to the hill behind their new home. The houses were sparse this far up Divisadero Street. Less than a mile away were dairy farms with herds of milk cattle grazing quietly on the dune scrub. And always, in the distance, they could see the crystal-blue expanse of the San Francisco Bay. Across the Bay, the hills of Marin County were bright green from the winter rain. A steamer glided through the Golden Gate, and Kerry wondered where she would dock and if a crimper was waiting to steal her sailors for another captain.
It has no more to do with me. Thank God. I’ll never go back to that life.

They sat and ate a little bit of lunch as they admired the scenery. They were subdued. Their Christmas dinner had been two days before. They had, in fact, shared it with Mrs. Thompson, but without Addison or Beth’s family, the holiday had seemed far lonelier than they had anticipated.

With her high color and windblown hair, Beth had never looked better to Kerry. She was quietly looking off in the distance, seeming contemplative, and Kerry was suddenly afraid.

“Will you go to medical school? Like Addison thinks you should?”

Beth didn’t reply for a moment. She kept staring at the sea. Finally, she said, “I don’t know. It would mean great sacrifice for us both.” She turned and looked at her and put a hand on Kerry’s cheek.

“I want you to have what you want,” Kerry whispered. They kissed, gently at first but then with increasing fervor. Then they broke apart.

Beth said, “Now that I know you love me and I love you, now that I know what that means, anything seems possible.”

They kissed again, and as Beth felt of her cheeks, she said, “You’re crying.”

“Happy.” Kerry gasped, wiping at her cheeks. “That’s all.”

“But still,” Beth teased her, “it’s wonderful.”

Kerry wiped her eyes and grimaced at the teasing, then smiled at Beth. “I never thought you’d fall in love with me,” she said. She took Beth’s hand and squeezed it. Beth squeezed back.

“Stand up for a moment,” Beth said, as she stood and reached her hand down to Kerry. She turned to face toward the sea.

Kerry looked at her as she gazed off in the distance, memorizing the way the sunlight touched her face, the way her eyes showed her every thought, the way her lips curved in a gentle smile.

“Well, I never thought I’d fall in love with you either. Yet here we are.”

“Yes. Here we are. Here we stay? Always together, no matter what?” Kerry asked meaningfully.

Beth laid her head on Kerry’s shoulder and wrapped an arm tightly around her waist. “Always. No matter what.”

Their hands clasped, they turned and once again looked out over the Golden Gate and beyond to the horizon.

Kathleen Knowles grew up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but has lived in San Francisco for more than thirty years. She finds the city’s combination of history, natural beauty, and multicultural diversity inspiring and endlessly fascinating.

Other than writing, she loves music of all kinds, walking, bicycling, and stamp collecting. LGBT history and politics have commanded her attention for many years, starting with her first Pride march in Cleveland, Ohio, in 1978. She and her partner were married in July 2008 and live atop one of San Francisco’s many hills with their cats. She works as a health and safety specialist at the University of California, San Francisco.

She has written short stories, essays, and fan fiction.
Awake Unto Me
is her first published work.

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