Color of Love (20 page)

“Everybody always has so much to say after the fact. Okay, let’s talk,” she said warily.

She got up from the desk in the den and preceded her sister into the living room. There was more space in there. Gail followed and sat on the sofa. Leah stood by the window and waited patiently for Gail to begin.

Gail sighed. “Look, if I had thought Allen really cared about you, I never would have made a play for him. I know I can be a bitch sometimes, but you are my sister.”

“That didn’t stop you,” Leah pointed out.

“I know, I know. It’s just that I’ve always been attracted to Allen. Right from that first time we saw him. I thought he was one fine-looking black man. Handsome and smart. We kept looking at each other and there was … this sort of spark. You know what I mean. But he asked you out, not me. I was confused, but I thought, hey, that’s that.” Gail stopped for a moment and regarded her sister.

“But then, every time we were in the same room together, something happened. All we did was fight and hiss at each other. I couldn’t figure out why. I only knew I was crazy about him one minute and wanted to scratch his damned eyes out the next.”

“Sounds like you were both in heat,” Leah murmured dryly.

Gail shot her an impatient glare. She lit a cigarette and exhaled raggedly. She sat staring into space.

“It took me a long time to figure out what was going on. I thought maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe he really didn’t like me. Then I finally realized he was fighting
not
to want me.

“I got all turned around inside, Leah. I couldn’t have him, so I did all kinds of outrageous things to make him notice, and to try to make him mad.”

Gail puffed furiously on the cigarette, and then put it out half finished. She immediately lit another.

“And then one night after he was here for dinner, he kissed me good night. You’d gone to get his coat or whatever. He said something about how I’d styled my hair that night, and I shot right back with an answer. Suddenly we were both laughing. It was like … like … how come we always fought before? Over what?”

Gail impatiently put the second cigarette out. She hated this. She hated having to explain herself to anyone. But when she looked at her sister, she didn’t see resentment in Leah’s eyes. Only a kind of mild curiosity. Gail sat back and tried to relax.

“When Allen kissed me it wasn’t just good night, Gail, and a friendly peck. It was a kiss. And right then we both knew.”

Leah averted her gaze. She guessed she should be grateful that it hadn’t been a night when Allen had stayed to make love to her, and then leave to go home. But all those other nights afterward …

Leah shook her head impatiently. She wasn’t going to think about that. She wondered if Gail or Allen ever had.

“I hated that Allen was hiding behind you, using you.”

“He wasn’t honest with either one of us, and you still wanted him?” Leah asked, somewhat astonished.

Gail chuckled. “Honey, this isn’t supposed to make sense. It’s not about logic, it’s about glands,” she said ruefully. “I thought sooner or later you’d pick up on what was happening.”

“And make it easier for you by just letting Allen go. Be polite and step aside. The only problem, Gail, was that I didn’t have a clue.”

Gail frowned. “And you never even suspected about that weekend in September?”

Leah’s expression was completely blank. “What weekend?”

Gaily slowly shook her head. She suddenly felt sorry for Leah, and a little angry for how little she’d suspected. You can’t defend yourself if you don’t know there’s a reason to.

“It doesn’t matter. It happened. Allen and I spent a weekend together.”

Leah turned her back, feeling the heat of embarrassment warm her face. Something about the fact that it had been so easy for both Allen and Gail to fool her suddenly hit home. That she had detected nothing particularly different in Allen’s behavior afterward—all the way up until Thanksgiving—made Leah feel like she was shrinking. She took a deep breath and paced several feet between the window and the fireplace. She wasn’t going to let it happen. She wasn’t going to forgive them and allow herself to disappear.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me? Either of you?”

“Because I was trying to get Allen to admit he didn’t love you. I didn’t want to confront
you.
I wanted to get to
Allen.”
Gail shook her head sadly. “Leah, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean for it to come out this way. I just couldn’t stand much more of this pretending. I decided to confront him and just take my chances.”

“If I’d been in love with him, tough, right?”

Gail shook her head positively. “But you weren’t in love with him.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Leah admitted softly.

And she felt relief. It was unexpected. As if she’d let go of a burden of having to make a difficult decision. She watched as Gail got up and slowly approached her near the fireplace. Leah observed Gail dispassionately, admiring her presence, and grace. Her guts. Leah understood exactly why Allen would be more attracted to her sister.

“I hoped that you and Steven would like each other well enough to—you know, get together. He thought you were sweet. And he guessed that something was going on between Allen and me. He warned me that you could get hurt.”

Leah stared at Gail, annoyed. There was no point in pulling her hair, or staring at her as if she was demented. Leah knew she had to be responsible for protecting her own feelings.

“How come Steven knew and you didn’t?”

“I told you. I thought you’d figure it out. I couldn’t believe you didn’t know something was going on. Then, when Allen called here looking for you last week, he sounded really desperate. Something about Thanksgiving. Did you two fight?”

Leah watched Gail narrow her gaze on her.

“What happened between you and Allen at Thanksgiving?”

Leah crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s between Allen and me. I’m not going to talk about it.”

She was glad that at least Allen hadn’t further disgraced her by relating the incident. Gail gave her a sideways glance that was both innocent and contrived.

“You and Allen didn’t have plans for New Year’s Eve, did you?”

“We hadn’t talked that far in advance.”

Gail sighed. “Well, at least he didn’t screw that up. His firm is having a blow-out affair at the Marriott Marquis. He asked me to go.”

“Good for you. Sounds like fun,” Leah said without much emotion.

“Are you very angry with me?” Gail asked contritely.

“I’m not angry, Gail, really. I’m just very tired of the whole thing.”

Gail touched her hand. “I wish it could have been a happier Christmas.”

Leah didn’t shake the hand off, as she was inclined to do. But she resented, in a way, that Gail so quickly thought the matter settled. She had eased her conscience. And she had won, as Allen had.

“Me, too,” Leah said quietly.

Jason returned to New York feeling better but also very restless. The redheaded dancer called to say she was in town and wanted to come over to visit. He declined even though he was lonely. He was tired of feeling that way. After a few cigarettes and a can of beer, Jason knew exactly what he wanted to do.

At ten-thirty that night he called Leah.

“Hi. It’s Jason.”

“Oh. Hello.”

“You don’t sound so hot. Is this a bad time to be calling? Or, didn’t you expect me to call?”

“No, no. This is fine,” Leah assured him, but he’d heard the surprise in her tone. “How was your holiday? Did you go to Pennsylvania?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“I told you that was a better idea than being alone. Did you have a good time?”

“It was difficult. But good. And yours?”

There was a momentary silence. “Difficult,” she repeated thinly.

“Should I ask?” Jason inquired alertly.

“It’s better if you don’t.”

Jason sensed that something was wrong, but thought better of pursuing it. “Too much partying, no doubt,” he suggested.

“Not enough,” Leah responded wryly.

“Well, we can do something about that. Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

“No. Not really.”

Jason could hear her hesitation. “Then how about going to a party with me?”

“A party?” she repeated blankly.

Jason chuckled. “You do know what a party is, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Leah said, annoyed.

Jason knew she was searching for an excuse to say no, and he suddenly didn’t want her to. “Are you going to tell me you have nothing to wear, or you don’t want to go?”

“It’s not that …”

“If you have nothing to wear, I’ll lend you something,” he said outrageously.

Leah laughed. “Of all the people you know in this city, you can’t find a date for New Year’s Eve?”

“Sure I can,” Jason said quietly. “But I’m asking you.”

Leah lounged back against the pillows on her bed. She thought of Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve. She thought of Gail and Allen and everyone in the whole world celebrating New Year’s. Except her. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“You will?” Jason perked up. He had expected more resistance.

Leah’s laugh was nervous. “Don’t change your mind, now. It would have been a lot easier to say no.”

Jason chuckled. “No, no. It’s just that … well, great. We’re going to have a good time. I promise.”

“Sure,” Leah said with some skepticism. But she was still glad that she wouldn’t have to be alone while others celebrated. “So, should I dress for Times Square or for dancing to a live band?”

“Somewhere in between. It’s a private house party.”

“Fine. I’ll even bring some champagne.”

“Bet. And I’ll bring the noise makers. And the noise.”

L
EAH DIDN’T TELL GAIL
what her plans were for New Year’s Eve. She wouldn’t say with whom, where, when, or how she was spending the evening. It gave Leah a sense of control again and she was pleased that there was an area of her life that Gail knew nothing about.

She thought carefully about what she would wear. She wanted to make herself feel good. She wanted to look attractive again. And she wanted Jason to notice. Leah decided on black velvet pants and a black sweater. Over this she wore a bright red Japanese kimono printed with orange and yellow flowers. She’d bought the kimono on impulse three years earlier because the combination of colors were so striking and bold. But Leah had never worn it and, actually, never had any idea how she would wear it … until now.

She twisted her hair into an off-centered topknot and stuck red lacquered chopsticks through the bun. She wore a pair of dangling silver earrings temporarily pilfered from her sister. Leah was happy with the results, and her anticipation of the evening made her feel bold and adventurous.

Just before Gail was to be picked up by Allen, she came into her sister’s room and watched, bemused, the elaborate preparations.

“Well, wherever it is you’re going, you’re certainly dressed to celebrate. I hope you have fun,” Gail offered.

“I plan to …” Leah murmured, concentrating on the application of her lip gloss.

“I don’t suppose you know when you’ll be home?”

“No idea at all. Maybe I won’t come home tonight.”

“Look, I’m just concerned.”

“Don’t be. Frankly, Gail, whenever you’re concerned there’s no guarantee you’re really thinking about me.”

“I’m beginning to get worried about you. You’re not acting like yourself anymore, Leah.”

“And what is that exactly?” Leah asked, amused.

“The way you used to be. You’re behaving like a—a rebellious teenager.”

“Good. All in all, the way I used to be didn’t do me much good. Don’t worry about me. Go and have a good time and I’ll see you next year,” Leah said flippantly.

She got up from the vanity stool and approached her sister, who stood, uncharacteristically indecisive, just inside the bedroom door.

“I can take a hint,” Gail said dryly.

“I knew you would. You look great,” Leah said honestly, quickly assessing her sister’s mini silver tank dress worn under a black beaded bolero jacket. “I wouldn’t have the nerve to go out in that.”

Gail laughed with a shake of her head. Leah could detect a sigh in the laugh, a little like relief.

“Girl, we’re even. I wouldn’t wear that, either,” she said, gesturing to the bright kimono.

Leah turned to examine the full effect in a mirror. “It is bright, isn’t it? Do I look like a neon sign?”

Gail came to stand behind her sister, her hands lightly on Leah’s shoulder. The two oval faces framed together in the mirror showed the clear differences, as well as the strong similarities, between them.

“No, but you will certainly be noticed,” Gail said. “And you do look terrific.”

Their gazes met in the mirror.

“Thanks,” Leah murmured.

She turned around. Gail pecked her on the cheek.

“Happy New Year, Leah. I’ll see you later.”

Gail quickly left the room, and Leah sensed that her sister had come as close as she was ever going to to apologizing for her part in the failed holidays.

After Gail departed, Leah finished her grooming, checked her hair and outfit once more, and went down to the living room. It was almost nine o’clock. Until now she hadn’t allowed herself to think much about Jason or the coming evening. She only wanted to have a good time. She was going to keep it simple. Jason was simply a nice-looking guy she knew. She was going to a party with him with lots of other people and lots of noise and gaiety. She wasn’t going to remember what he’d said to her the last time they were together. She wasn’t going to put a lot of emphasis on a few good night kisses. She was going to remember that he probably dated a dozen other women and that she was just someone else on his list.

Don’t assume anything and you won’t be disappointed, she told herself. Take it moment to moment. Don’t try to question it too much; just go with it. Leah had made the decision that she was going to be like Gail for a while—thinking only of herself. She would smile and be bright and tease and have fun. With champagne and a toast, Leah would drink the past into oblivion.

The bell rang and slowly Leah went to answer. As she pulled the door open, a final surge of apprehension swept through her. It was too late. There stood Jason dressed casually for a party in charcoal gray slacks and a black knit polo shirt, the short leather jacket, and his red baseball cap. He said nothing at first, but Leah had to smile as he looked her up and down. All the thought and care had been worth this one moment. Jason let out a low whistle.