The Gilder (18 page)

Marina poured the marinade over the lamb chops, returned them to the refrigerator, and began tearing a loaf of three-day-old bread into bite-sized pieces for the
pappa col pomodoro,
a rustic tomato soup she would serve Lydia the following night. It was true that her dating track record was spotty, but she took exception to being called “chicken” by Zoe. She wasn’t afraid to go to a party and have a good time—she just didn’t have the patience for dating, with all its unspoken expectations and coy rules of seduction. During the first couple of years of their friendship, Lydia and June had tried fixing her up with a number of male friends, and when nothing developed in that arena, they invited her to a Halloween party hosted by the local Gay and Lesbian Alliance.
Just to test the waters,
Lydia had said one afternoon as they were sharing a cup of tea and watching Zoe, Sasha, and Ben tumble around on the grass, chubby limbs akimbo. When Marina asked what she meant, Lydia said, “I’ve listened to you talk about Sarah for two years, about how beautiful she was, about all the time you spent together, all the places you went, the things you did, Sarah this, and Sarah that. It seems pretty clear to me that you were in love with her.”

Marina was quick to respond. “I wasn’t in love with her.”

“Then what was it?”

“A crush, maybe. Enamored maybe.”

Lydia gave her a knowing look. “More than that, I think.”

Marina shrugged. “Nothing like what you and June have.”

“That’s different, we’ve been together for years. I’m not saying that you’re necessarily gay. Straight women often fall in love with their girlfriends.” She paused. “Did you think about sex with her?”

“Lydia!”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a prude.”

“Well ... I certainly had a lot of
feelings
as our friendship evolved, but I really didn’t know what they were or how to deal with them. I know it sounds dumb, but I didn’t know how to think about it. My head didn’t go
there.
I’d never met a lesbian until I met you. I’d honestly never given any thought about women together sexually. I just imagined us
together.
”

Lydia grinned. “But not in the biblical sense?”

Marina swatted Lydia’s arm and shouted to Zoe, “Get off of Sasha; you’re going to hurt her.”

“I’m not convinced you really know what you felt. How about you come to our party and check it out?”

“I don’t know, maybe, I’ll think about it.”

“What’s the matter? You afraid we’ll feed you to our lesbian friends?”

Marina smiled. “Of course not, I love your friends.”

“Well then, let’s just see how much you love them. God knows you haven’t been interested in any of the guys you’ve dated.”

Marina had joined them reluctantly, and as they turned onto the gravel driveway, lights twinkling through the tendrils of the giant willows that lined the property, she wished she’d stuck to her guns and declined Lydia’s invitation. After all, she had nothing to prove. A low, stone wall snaked along the drive toward a Victorian farmhouse with peaked windows and a deep, covered porch, its front walk lined with brown-paper-bag luminaries, the porch railing with leering jack-o’-lanterns. The minute they opened the car doors, they could hear the rhythmic beat of dance music pounding on doors and windows as if trying to escape.

Under a black night sky dotted with stars, Marina took a deep breath. The air smelled of frost. “I think I’ll leave my coat in the car. It’s crushing my wings.” She closed the car door and turned her back to Lydia. “Would you straighten them for me?”

Lydia smoothed the lace of the small wings sewn to the back of Marina’s yellow and black striped dress. A small gold crown perched on the top of her head and large glow-in-the-dark glasses on the bridge of her nose.

June pulled a camera from her bag. “Let me get a picture before we go in. You look adorable, Marina, the queen of all queen bees.”

“Thanks. Whose house is this again?” Marina turned to face the twin aliens in silver suits and helmets, one tall, one short.

“It’s Susan’s. The editor, remember? You met her at June’s birthday party last summer,” Lydia replied. “Don’t be nervous, it’s just a bunch of women in costumes.”

“I’m not nervous.”

The three women approached the house, navigated the porch’s giant cobwebs, and slipped into the hot, pulsing rhythm of the party.

Two hours later, Marina stood with a bottle of beer, her sweat-soaked back to the icy panes of the French doors. She had danced with Cleopatra, Tinker Bell, Elvira, numerous aliens, and Alice from beyond the looking glass. She’d also danced on her own to avoid conversation. Now the music slowed and a liquid-hipped belly dancer beckoned, but Marina smiled, lifted her beer in salute, and looked away just as Lydia arrived at her side.

“Are you having fun?” asked Lydia, bumping hips with Marina. “You’ve been on the dance floor all night.”

“The music’s great.” The song changed, and Marina had to shout to be heard.

“What’s your favorite costume?”

“I love Alice; she looks like she just stepped out of the book, only she’s the six-foot-tall version.”

“That’s Veronica. She’s a model. She comes up from the city to party with us country folk. She used to date Susan.”

“Who are all the women in jeans, flannel shirts, and vests? I’ve seen five or six. I don’t get what they’re supposed to be.”

Lydia laughed. “They’re just being themselves. No costumes.”

Marina nodded as if she understood, then turned her attention back to the dance floor. The truth was she didn’t understand anything, least of all what she was doing there.

The temperature had dropped, frosting the women’s breath as they made their way back to the car under the three sisters in Orion’s belt. It took June a few minutes to maneuver the car through the maze of small pick-up trucks and SUVs.

Lydia turned around, hooking her arm over the back of the front seat. “There was quite a buzz going around tonight. Everyone wanted to know who the honeybee was.”

Marina smiled. “They did not!”

“Oh, yes, they did,” confirmed June, nodding her head.

“You created quite a stir,” continued Lydia. “It always happens when there’s a new girl on the block.”

“I’m not the new girl on the block. Don’t let people think that. I just came with you two to have some fun.”

Lydia laughed. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. Didn’t you have fun?”

“Yes, it was great. I loved the dancing, and everyone was really nice, but ... I didn’t feel like I ...”

“Like you what?”

“Like I belonged there.”

“Did you actually have a conversation with anyone? You were a bit elusive, dancing all the time.”

“I talked to people. But that’s not what I mean. I just don’t think I belong in ... that world.”

“You mean the lesbian world?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe not.” Lydia rested her head on her arm and stared into the backseat. “Did it make you think about Sarah?”

“What do you mean?”

“Tonight, at the party, did you wish she was there? Is that why you didn’t connect with anyone, because you were wanting to be with her?”

“Lydia!” June glanced at her partner.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I just want to know what you thought.”

Marina dropped her head onto the back of the seat and closed her eyes. “I have no idea what I thought.”

CHAPTER 11

D
inner debris was scattered across the polished pine tabletop, china, crystal, and silver glinting in the candlelight. The fire cast narrow ladder-back shadows up the wall and across the ceiling.

“This is one of my favorite things about you,” Lydia said as she ran her finger around the rim of a green and gold Limoges bowl, then licked her finger clean. “We’re eating a peasant’s meal, basically—stale bread and mushed tomatoes—on china fit for a queen.”

Marina smiled. “Are you implying I’m irreverent?”

Lydia nodded. “Irreverence is good. At least you use this china. I’d have it locked up in a cabinet gathering dust.”

Marina fingered the silver dinner knife at the edge of her plate. Of course it should be used. That’s what the craftsman intended. In any case, she didn’t need to worry about it as an investment, having picked up most of her tableware for next to nothing at estate sales and thrift shops. She raised a delicate wineglass. “Here’s to junk shops. My one indulgence and addiction.”

Lydia snorted. “What about chocolate? And books? Not to mention your work. And ...”

“Okay, okay. One of my
many
indulgences.”

“Better you than me,” said Lydia, raising her glass in salutation. “I’d hate hand washing all this stuff; I can’t stand dishpan hands.”

“I don’t mind.” Marina held out her hands, palms down. The skin was flecked with tiny scars; wrinkles pooled around her knuckles. “Mine are in rough shape anyway.”

“I’ve always thought your hands were beautiful, very elegant.”

“Very wrinkled, you mean.”

“They’ve worked hard for you. They have history.”

“Thanks a lot. You make them sound like ancient relics.” Marina put her hands in her lap. “Now Zoe, she’s the one with the beautiful hands. Even when she was a baby people remarked on how long and shapely her fingers were, remember?”

“I do. You once said she had her father’s hands.”

Marina stared down at her lap, then looked up at her friend. “What am I going to do with her?”

“She seemed fine last night at our house. Is she still asking a lot of questions?”

“No, she seems to have dropped it. But I know it’s going to come up again with me going to Florence.”

Lydia leaned back in her chair and nodded. “You’re right, it probably will. After all, it’s a part of who she is, a part of what places her in the world. Have you considered telling her the truth?”

“What! That I screwed my best friend’s husband, got pregnant, and never told either of them about her?” Marina shook her head in disbelief at what Lydia was suggesting.

“No. But the thing is, she’s fifteen and hardly knows more about her father than our children know about theirs, and we really
don’t know
all that much about him.”

“Does it still come up for Ben and Sasha?”

“Yes, of course, from time to time. It changes. As they get older, they want to know different things, and I hate it that I can’t tell them more, but that’s the way it is. Right or wrong, it’s the path June and I chose, and now we have to honor it.”

“So, you’ve told them that he was a doctor and that he wanted to help you two in the name of science.”

Lydia laughed. “We don’t say it quite like that, but that’s pretty close to the truth.” She hesitated and then said, “To tell the truth, I think he felt sorry for us. You know, saw us as disenfranchised and wanted to help. Maybe that’s how he saw himself, a nerdy, reclusive scientist, outside the norm.”

“What else do you tell them?” Marina began to stack the plates in front of her.

“Not his name, or where he lives, which we don’t know anyway. He moved a long time ago. I suppose we could track him down if we needed to... .”

“You mean in the case of a medical emergency? If you need an organ or something?”

Lydia shuddered. “What a horrible thought. But, yes, I suppose we could.” She gave a small shrug. “At the time, none of us thought that far ahead.”

Both women were quiet for a moment, then Lydia smiled and went on. “We tell the kids that he is tall, handsome, smart, creative, and funny, which is really what you hope any child would want to think about his father. And it’s not far from the truth.”

“Would you do it any differently if you had to do it over?”

Lydia shook her head. “Maybe it’s selfish, but I have to say no, I’d do it all over again. Besides, what choices did we have back then? Sperm banks were new and at the time seemed weird, adoption was not an option, and neither of us was about to go out and fuck some stranger. Ben and Sasha’s lives are filled with love, and they’re sorting it out as they go along. By the time they grow up, there will probably be support groups for kids with anonymous donor fathers.”

Marina pushed her chair away from the table and began to clear the dishes, motioning Lydia to stay seated. “I don’t know what to tell Zoe. I’ve made up so much.”

“What, exactly, does she want to know?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe she just wants to talk about Thomas to fill the void created by not having a father. I don’t blame her. It’s just that I don’t know how to do it. The truth always gets in my way.”

Lydia brushed a few crumbs along the tablecloth. “Is it possible that you don’t really want to face the truth?”

Marina let the dishes clatter on the countertop. Her face was flushed as she turned to face Lydia, her words measured. “You don’t think I face the truth? Don’t you think I look the truth in the face every day?”

Lydia looked Marina in the eye. “Maybe, but have you ever really dealt with it? You’ve hardly even talked to me about it.”

“Yes, I have. I’ve told you the whole story!”

“Telling a story and
dealing
with the reality of it is not the same thing. People make mistakes. It’s how you deal with them that makes the difference. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve created a beautiful life with Zoe, but you’ve gilded the lily until it can’t bear the weight of its own beauty any longer.”

Marina smiled at the turn of phrase, and the tension between the two women eased.

“I don’t even know where to begin.” Marina opened the freezer, removed two cartons of ice cream, and held them out for Lydia’s inspection.

Lydia nodded at both and said, “What if you begin by telling Sarah that you are coming to Florence and want to see her?”

“What’s that going to accomplish? How does that help me with Zoe?”

“If you can bring yourself to be honest with Sarah about what happened, it might relieve some of your guilt, and that might give you a better perspective on what to tell Zoe.”

“I don’t know.” Marina scooped ice cream into a fluted parfait glass and set it in front of Lydia.

“Aren’t you having any?”

Marina shook her head, patting her belly, and put the cartons back in the freezer. “You know what I feel really guilty about? How I said that Thomas was dead for five years when he wasn’t ... and then he was. It’s like I willed it to happen.”