Part 13 (1/2)

Constance took a deep breath, obviously fighting for control. ”Can't we argue about this after the opening of Painted Moon?”

”No,” Leah said stubbornly. ”I want this series exhibited. It's called Fes. It's important to me.”

Constance bit her lower lip and clenched and unclenched her fists. ”Why are you making me do this?”

”Maybe it's time for us both to renounce being invisible. To not run from the label, but to use it and not let anyone make it an insult.”

”You can be so incredibly naive.”

Leah stared at Constance's unyielding expression. Until now, she had trusted Constance's judgment without question. Abruptly her anger dissolved. She looked at the paintings again and realized how Constance saw them. How most people would see them.

Sensuous, even erotic. Not exploring the female form, but wors.h.i.+pping it. Painted by a woman in love, in l.u.s.t, in the heat of pa.s.sion for another woman. Desire and longing mingled with intimate understanding of the texture and heat of the female body. Would anyone but another woman know that the small of a woman's back is slightly darker, slightly hotter than her shoulders? That her hips are cooler, her thighs smoother?

Leah sighed and felt exhausted. ”You're right. I wouldn't have been prepared for the fallout.” Starting over on her reputation was untenable - she couldn't be a beginner again.

”You're finally talking sense.”

”Let me think about it,” Leah said slowly. ”I need to think it through.”

”You will install Painted Moon before the photographer gets there, right?”

Leah nodded.

Constance left the circle of the paintings and stood next to Leah. ”I'm sorry I got upset. Maybe that's a tribute to your work. They would stir people up. I didn't know - I didn't know I felt that strongly.”

”I don't know how I feel.” She looked forlornly at the paintings. ”I thought I'd already come out.”

Constance patted Leah's cheek. ”Why don't I meet you at the gallery tomorrow at one?”

Leah nodded. ”Can you see yourself out?”

”Sure.”

She listened to the sound of the T-bird's engine, then sat down on the floor and looked at her work. The daylight faded and she got stiffly to her feet. She covered the canvases and went to the dark house wis.h.i.+ng that Sharla were there to tell her what to do. She longed to call Jackie, but what was left of her courage failed her completely.

”You've sunk to a new low,” Jackie told herself. ”You should have made a date. It's just because you've got nothing to do on a Sat.u.r.day night that you want to call her.” There had been a month of Sat.u.r.day nights with nothing to do. When she didn't make an effort to go out and keep herself diverted, she sat around and thought about Leah. She had grown to loathe her apartment's tiny kitchen and dark light. Thank G.o.d for her job-the work was absorbing and rewarding. But at night she brooded.

If she didn't do something tonight, she'd lose her self-respect. She remembered how she had accused Leah of being obsessed with Sharla, but now she understood a little more about obsession and love. Leah had rejected her, but it didn't make her stop hoping. She had to try one more time.

Examine your motives, she told herself. Your mother arrives at the end of next week and could it be you want to be able to introduce her to Leah the artist and Leah your lover? Pipe dreams. Why couldn't she be content to show her mother the first set of drawings she'd done on her own for a client a.s.signed to her? Drawings Angela herself had admired.

Do it or shut up, she told herself.

Her finger trembled on the b.u.t.tons. She took two rapid, deep breaths and listened to the ring. The phone was answered with a click and the familiar sound of a taped greeting.

She gathered her composure and waited for the beep. ”Hi, Leah, this is Jackie. Um, Jackie Frakes. I hope you remem - of course you do. I was just calling, um...” She berated herself for sounding like an idiot. ”I was calling because...”

The receiver was suddenly lifted. ”I'm here.”

Jackie swallowed and couldn't find her voice.

”Are you there?”

”Yes. I, well, I've been thinking and I... the way we parted. I think we need to talk about it. At least I need to.”

There was a long silence. Then Leah said, ”I think so too. Would you like to come to my place?”

”I'd love to,” Jackie said. ”Are you busy now... I'm so, there's no particular urgency except I... well. I'd like to clear things up.”

”Tonight would be great.” Leah told her how to find the house and Jackie hung up after offering to bring something for dinner and scribbling down Leah's directions to a Thai take-out not far from her home.

She changed into something comfortable and realized as she walked to her car that she had chosen clothes that flattered her figure and came off easily. She sat for a moment in the car and came to a decision. She would seduce Leah if she could. She would take her to bed and do everything she could to make Leah want her to stay there. She knew she was competing with Sharla's memory. If she had even the remotest chance of meaning something to Leah, then she wanted to seize it. She could handle being second best in Leah Beck's eyes.

She hoped she looked more self-confident than she felt. Some of her tension eased as she listened to Butch barking hysterically and Leah's scolding as Leah opened the door. Leah took the bag of take out and Butch danced around Jackie. Jackie found herself on the floor fending off Butch's s...o...b..ry, happy h.e.l.los. She could wish Leah would show her this much affection, she thought.

Butch finally let her up and followed Jackie to the kitchen.

Leah smiled and pointed at the sink. ”There's soap.”

Jackie laughed and washed her face. ”I guess Butch missed me,” she said as she dried herself.

”Butch isn't the only one,” Leah said quietly.

Jackie's heart leapt as she met Leah's gaze. She trembled, aware that her pa.s.sion hadn't dimmed. She didn't feel as helpless as she had at the art gallery, as reliant on Leah's direction. But she wanted Leah in the same deep, needful way. In a way that excluded wanting Ina or any other woman. ”That's good to know,” she said and tried to let her eyes talk for her.

Leah look away and fetched plates and cutlery. They shared pad thai noodles and chicken satay over jasmine rice at the counter in Leah's s.p.a.cious kitchen. They ate quickly and talked little. Jackie would have asked for a tour of the house to see if it matched the Shaker style of the kitchen, but she wanted to move onto more important things. She could see the house anytime. And she had every intention of seeing the bedroom before the night was out.

Leah had already made coffee and they went into the backyard to enjoy the mild evening.

Jackie loved the garden, though it needed some attention. A high fence and two beautiful oaks gave it an enclosed feeling. Jackie realized the garden gave way to a steep slope. A retaining wall would slow down erosion if sink posts could be stabilized. A building too oddly shaped for a garage stood to one side. ”What's that?”

”My workshop,” Leah said, waving a hand at the small detached building. Jackie followed Leah through the garden to the small gazebo.

”Are you working on anything?”

”I just finished. I don't know when - if-it'll be exhibited.” She didn't elaborate. ”I spent this afternoon hauling the Painted Moon series to a gallery in San Francisco. It goes on exhibit this Friday night. I have to finish the installation before tomorrow at two. For a photographer.” She sat down on the bench and Jackie hesitated a moment, then straddled the bench so she could look at Leah.

”That was fast,” Jackie said.

”It was an unexpected opening. You met the owner, Constance... the woman at the gallery when we were leaving.”

”Oh,” Jackie said. She hoped the darkness hid her blush. ”I wasn't exactly at my best.”

”I wouldn't say that,” Leah said, almost reluctantly, with a hint of teasing in her voice.

Jackie's face burned. ”Leah, I...”