CHAPTER 2

She watched Leda sleeping. Her arm tingled where the girl's head pressed against it. But she didn't want to move. Even the discomfort of Leda's weight was a pleasure. The horror, the loneliness of yesterday had been transmuted into the pure gold of this morning.

Or was it afternoon?

Cautiously she tilted her head past the girl's shoulder and squinted at the tiny alarm clock. Almost twelve-thirty. She had been lying awake for nearly eight hours too excited to sleep. Too thrilled by the surprise of Leda's love even to want to sleep.

The slurping of water in the kitchen reminded Michele that she ought to take Boris for a walk. Her shift at the beanery started at three o'clock this week. But at least her nights would be free. And maybe she ought to see about a job where the tips would be better.

Michele watched her own thoughts circle and swoop happily in the glorious sunshine of her new life. She could provide for Leda. They would continue living as before—with some added attractions.

She listened to the girl sigh in her sleep and wet her lips. Leda had always had an active dream life. Michele smiled to herself. Maybe now she was part of those dreams.

Once again, she ran the fingers of her free hand through the short hair.

Maybe she would even go back to college.

Anything would be possible... now.

The alarm clock leaped into life and Leda twisted away from her with a violent spasm.

Michele grinned happily as she watched the girl's eyelids flutter open. She reached across her and killed the bell with her thumb. Then she came back and tried to cradle the girl into her arms again.

"God, what a head," Leda groaned. She pressed the heels of her palms to her cheeks and exhaled a long breath.

"I feel fine. Absolutely magnificent." She took Leda's hands away and kissed her on the side of the nose.

"You would. Monster."

They smiled at each other for a long moment.

"Hey, I've got a dancing class."

In a single movement, Leda bounded over her and ran barefoot for the bathroom, her long blonde hair bouncing on her naked shoulders.

Michele sighed and sat up. She had forgotten all about Leda's career. It would slice precious hours from the time they could be together. She searched the ashtray and lifted out a crumpled butt. Straightening it gave her almost half a cigarette. She lit it and drew the smoke deep into her lungs.

Funny, how she had forgotten about everything except the feeling of Leda's body against her own.

The sound of the toilet and the sound of running water and the sound of brushing teeth... all the busy marks of daytime seemed to riddle Michele. She wished she could snuggle back into the bed, close her eyes again and start all over from last night. When there had been only love.

But Leda's dancing class was important Michele knew. She had no right to try to interfere with fifteen years of hard work and ambition. One day Leda would make the grade. And she knew she ought to wish her luck.

But the thought of her girl in black tights, surrounded by other girls... It wasn't exactly the sort of occupation conducive to...

To what?

Angrily Michele mashed out the cigarette stub and flung herself onto her feet. Tiny point of jealousy picked at her skin. She pulled on a pair of faded jeans and called to Boris. While he sidled in, she put on an old army shirt and rolled up the sleeves past her elbows. The billowing material camouflaged her bare breasts.

"Here, boy."

She kneeled to Boris and hooked his metal leash to the choke collar. He turned his long, narrow muzzle to her ear and wiped her cheek with his tongue.

"What's happening to me, Boris?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Why am I so afraid?"

The sounds of Leda moving now from the bathroom to the kitchen punctuated Michele's thoughts. She heard Leda removing the metal lid from the bathtub. The hollow thudding of water against porcelain, the sliding of the window in its crooked sash, a coffee pot being set on the stove... All the infinite movements of living that had to continue despite what was going on in one's head.

Michele straightened up and wound the end of Boris's leash around her palm. She walked stiff-legged toward the kitchen, all of her tense and afraid.

Leda stood on tip-toe, peering into the wooden cupboard above the refrigerator. "We're out of soap," she said.

"I'm going down. I'll bring some back."

Leda turned to face her. The weight of her hair rested on her shoulders. Her breasts and belly made a pattern of white against the deep tan of her face and throat and legs. "Michele?" Her lips remained open, in question revealing the edges of her small, even teeth.

Michele stood at the doorway, pulling hard on the leash. Palmolive?" she asked dully. "Or Lux?"

"Michele come here."

Michele managed to get herself across the worn linoleum.

"You're not exactly the aggressive type, are you?" Leda laughed low against Michele's throat. She pressed her naked belly to Michele's jeans. "After last night, I'm sure you can kiss me good morning."

Leda's arms brushed across Michele's shoulders. Her fingers went into the stubble of hair along the nape of Michele's neck. "I'm going to do everything in this world to make you happy," she whispered.

"Then stay home with me this afternoon," Michele blurted.

Leda's head tilted back. Michele felt the blue eyes penetrating through to her own conscience, her uncertainty.

"Do you really want me to?"

Michele heard the note of challenge in Leda's voice, the testing. Yet she couldn't back away from the terrible compulsion inside her. "We'll have a celebration," she said breathlessly. "Just you and me. We'll take a boat ride around the city, then go to Bruno's for dinner. And after that, we'll go uptown to Radio City."

She despised the words tumbling out so anxiously but she felt powerless to stop them. A wave of embarrassment heated her skin.

She dropped her glance from Leda's face to the pale curve of her breasts, then away to a corner of the room. "I'm sorry," she mumbled at last. "You know I didn't mean a word of it."

Leda's cool hand found Michele's chin and tilted it up. They were almost the same height and Michele felt the level gaze softer now. "I know how it is, the first time," Leda said. "Trial by foolishness, I guess you'd call it."

She moved to the tub and turned off the faucets. "Now, take Boris out before he loses his patience."

Michele let herself be pulled toward the door. Numbly she followed Boris down the five flights and out onto the street. She strolled along First Avenue without hearing the screaming kids or smelling sun-ripened fruit or tasting the heavy, dry layer of soot churned up by trucks and automobiles.

She had thought she knew everything there was to know about Leda. A mistake, obviously.

And if this wasn't the first time for Leda, how many times had she been through it before?

With whom?... Where?... When?... Dozens of questions chased each other through Michele's thoughts.

She forced herself to cut them off sharply when she reached the grocery. She dug out two dollars worth of change for soap, cigarettes and a can of Medaglio d'Oro coffee. Leda loved Italian coffee almost as much as she loved dancing.

And that, simply enough, Michele realized, would be the answer to all her troubles. Instead of fighting Leda, she would do everything possible to help the girl's career. And everything possible to please her.

No more jealousy.

No questions.

No distrust.

With this decision, Michele felt the tension in her chest beginning to relax. And silently, she promised Leda that for the next eighty years of their life together, they were going to have a ball.

Even before she reached the last flight of stairs, Michele heard the table radio blaring Beethoven. It was a good sign. Leda only listened to classical music when she was concentrating on something else.

And that something else, Michele decided happily, could only be her latest love affair.

The realization gave her a feeling of self-importance. Leda must have been thinking about her often during the past few months. Certainly her response last night proved that. It was strange to feel herself part of Leda's thoughts, inside that head always so busy with rent budgets, practice schedules, tryouts.

Michele's thoughts had always seemed to her so sluggish by contrast. An occasional letter home to her mother, a short story attempted only to be abandoned half way through. Somewhere along the way she had reined in her mind like the blunt nose of an old dray horse. Her routine had become the blind circle of one restaurant or another. Big tips, small tips, white uniform, black uniform, rubber soled shoes, ripple soled shoes. A pretty boring companion for someone like Leda, who was all sparkle and light. But she knew she could change. She knew it.

If Leda would only be patient with her.

Michele opened the door, unhooked Boris's leash and proceeded with her bundle of groceries to the wooden table in the kitchen. The room was too small for the vibrating orchestration. Everything seemed to be shaking.

Except Leda, who reclined lazily in the tub. Wavelets lapped across her belly and up over the soft, pink breasts. One leg was extended, propped on its heel on the tub's edge. Her eyes were closed. Michele took the soap out, unwrapped it and went to the girl. Letting the soap sink away, she cupped the soft breasts in her hands and brought her face down, unmindful of the water against her chin.

When she lifted her gaze, the smile had returned to Leda's face but her eyes were still closed. Michele slid her hands downward through the water, found the bar of soap and brought it up along Leda's thighs. Leda's hands caught hers and held them still. She kissed the closed eyelids.

Leda blinked up at her. Neither of them spoke, surrounded by the music, smiling confidently at each other, engrossed in the sensation that pulsed louder than the symphony.

Michele helped Leda out of the tub and with the towel patted the outlines of the girl's body. She had never dared to stare at her before. In fact, she had deliberately avoided doing so all this time. But now Michele permitted herself to examine all the curves and hollows which she had touched last night. Impetuously she put her lips to the small of Leda's back, inhaling the soapy odor still fragrant and warm.

"We can't," Leda said.

Michele felt Leda's fingertips, stroking her temple. "I know," she muttered obediently. "You'll be late."

"I'll meet you when you're through today. We'll go out. You know, like you said?"

"That'll be late tonight. What'll you be doing in the meantime?"

Leda turned and took the towel from her. She wrapped it around Michele's head and kissed her nose. "Rob a bank. Kill a cop. Anything you'd like."

The mocking tone stabbed Michele. "I can't help it," she said. "I'm not so accustomed to this thing yet."

She saw the edges of Leda's mouth tighten for a moment. "Let's hope you never are."

Michele twisted away and started to make the eggs and coffee. She knew that Leda was being patient and loving with her. More patient than she could have hoped.

"Do you think I'll ever start acting like a human being again?" she asked. "I feel like such a jerk. It must be a terrible bore to you."

But when she turned slightly for Leda's answer, Michele discovered that she was alone.

So this is how it's going to be, Michele thought. Me ranting stupidly and her sneaking away from the sound of my voice.

Michele put down the pot holder and went to see how Leda had managed to escape.

She found the girl sitting astride the partition with the phone cupped to her mouth. Because of the music, Michele could not hear the words, nor could she see them forming on the girl's lips.

The pungent odor of coffee began wafting into the room. Michele smelled it but her feet refused to move her back toward the responsibilities of breakfast. She stood in the July sunlight as though she were frozen inside a cube of ice. Only the jabbing of her heart kept her aware of her own identity.

Leda put down the receiver, slid from the partition and landed lightly on the bare floor. "That was Margaret," she said before Michele could ask. "She wanted to know if I had an extra pair of sandals."

"You mean she called?"

Leda shook her head and spread the bangs with a quick ruffle of her fingers. "Why, yes. Didn't you hear it ring?"

Michele felt a crazy grin beginning to spread across her face. It felt as though her nose and eyebrows were going to take off for outer space.

In two strides, she crossed the room and lifted Leda into her arms.

"Put me down," Leda squealed. "I've got to make that class."

Their voices blended in laughter. "You make all the classes you want, honey," Michele said. "Just you come home again and make me."