Part 11 (1/2)

”What's up, Helen?” Mark Corrigan asked.

Helen hadn't prepared a speech. She wanted to feel her way in, would find her opening, and Mark became her target. His talk show had been rated number one for the past two years and Helen taped the show occasionally.

”Mark, I caught your show on lesbian and gay writers. What type of reaction did the show provoke?”

”Surprise. Most people didn't realize that big publis.h.i.+ng houses don't like to touch these writers because of gay characters. In spite of the author's orientation, the audience was supportive.”

”'Supportive in spite of their orientation,'” Helen said and gave her own spectators time to ponder the words. ”I'm not a part of your world, but there is one thing that binds us and that's our s.e.xuality.” She paused. ”You're the elite of this country. No matter what the papers report about you, no matter what you do or don't do, this country buys your product. The respect you command is second to none and I want you to lend out that respect.”

”What are you saying, Helen?” Marty asked from the back of the crowd.

”This group has the resources to possibly make a significant difference in the att.i.tudes of the straight world. You can lend a new dignity to the way the public perceives our population.”

Blair laughed sarcastically. ”And how do you propose we do that? Come out?” She walked closer. ”Do you think we're crazy?” She slapped her empty gla.s.s onto the bar next to Helen. ”Scotch,” she demanded and eyeballed Helen without seeing Stacey pour ginger ale into the gla.s.s.

”Come out, yes. Crazy, no. Well, maybe crazy,” she said with a smile. ”I think talent borders on madness. We need more names out there. Every so often, there's a kiss-my-a.s.s flurry of pride. Ellen, Melissa-”

”Mark Corrigan!” Nick yelled.

Mark grinned and dug his hands into the pockets of his Levi's. ”I don't want my head bashed in.”

Helen countered. ”You're like wolves; you travel in packs. There's a great deal of protection there.”

”Lost work,” said costume designer Jenny Colgate.

”Jenny, you won an Oscar last year for Devil's Rain. Producers will continue to buy that talent.”

”I agree with Jenny,” Nick answered.

”Nick, look at your gorgeous face,” Helen teased him. ”You've been the number one box office draw for the last five years. Look at these people.” She waved her arm over the room. ”They produce and direct you. I doubt they'll stop because you come out. You have the power. The Moral Majority may sound off for a while, but it all comes flying back to the almighty dollar.”

”You're right,” one of the producers said, ”but the family matter is a different thing. Not all of us are out to them.”

”That's a priority I can understand. If you aren't out to them, I wouldn't expect you to consider my request.”

Blair took a swig of her fresh drink, choked on the unexpected blast of sugar, and glared at Stacey. She looked back at Helen. ”Can you understand this? We can't change the world. They aren't ready for us.”

Helen looked at her and winked playfully, much to Blair's disdain. ”Perhaps more people are than we're aware of.”

”There've been marches,” Cory chimed in.

”Been there,” Jay said.

”Done that. Got the T-s.h.i.+rt.” Jenny flopped onto the sofa beside him.

Helen answered the group. ”This won't be a picket sign, march-around-the-Capitol thing. I'm talking about a cla.s.s act, using your combined talents.”

”What exactly do you propose?” Marty asked.

Helen leaned back onto her palms and took a deep breath. ”This will sound like nearly every Andy Hardy film ever made, but I think you should combine your talents in a night of knock-'em-dead entertainment. The difference from Andy Hardy is at the end, when you come out as a group.” Murmurs filled the room. ”From the master of ceremonies to every act, the show will be empowered by gays and lesbians.”

”You're nuts,” Blair said. ”And how do you figure in with this grand display of yours? Hide behind your column and write about it afterward? How incredibly brave of you, Ms. Townsend. We risk our necks so you and Chamberlain can hold hands in public.”

Blair's sarcasm brought a quick reaction from Cory. With a snap of her arm she shoved her bottle of spring water into Kim's hand and quickly approached Blair who stood with a smile.

”Watch your words, Blair,” Cory said, her face inches away from Blair's. ”I won't permit anyone to speak to Helen like that.”

Helen smiled to herself as she listened to the exchange. Protection? Possessiveness? Territorial boundaries not to be trespa.s.sed upon, and especially by the likes of Blair? Helen looked over to where Kim stood-still smiling. Maybe Helen should set up a few boundaries of her own.

Don't cross my line, Kim who plays a cello. I trust the j.a.panese with my electronics but not with my woman.

”Come off it, Chamberlain,” Blair said. ”Do you have to be so d.a.m.n honorable?”

”Honorable is better than inebriated, and it's because of your inebriation that I won't ask you to apologize to Helen.” Cory quieted. ”Now...” She reached up and straightened Blair's collar. ”Listen to Helen or don't. Just keep your pretty lips shut.” She returned to her place beside Kim.

Blair was appalled. ”Stacey, are you going to allow her to talk to me like that? Can't you put a leash-” She was mortified when Stacey grabbed her by the arm, led her to a sofa, and pushed her down with a heavy hand.

”Yes, I can. Stop being a pain in the a.s.s, Blair.” Stacey sat beside her and nodded for Helen to continue.

Helen answered Blair. ”I want to be there, as MC for the evening. I'm not the talent showcase. That will be provided by all of you.”

Marty joined Helen and placed her hand on her leg. She turned to the group. ”I want to do it. Let's shake 'em up a little.”

”Someone's already shaken Helen too much. Her brain's loosened up,” Blair said.

Cory started for Blair but stopped when Stacey grabbed Blair's arm. Stacey warned her. ”You've got nothing on me, you little actress. I won't think twice about sending you out the door.”

Blair seethed with anger and humiliation. She glared at Stacey and pushed herself from the sofa. ”I don't have to take this abuse. Get my coat,” she demanded of her hostess.

”Get it yourself,” Stacey said and joined the women at the bar. Blair stormed to the closet and pulled her coat on. ”Good night, Blair.”

Blair pointed to Helen. ”Don't let her f.u.c.k up your lives,” she said to the room and then pointed to Stacey. ”I'll talk to you later.” She slammed the door behind her.

Except for Judy torching ”Stormy Weather,” the room was quiet, and when Stacey brushed against Helen's arm, Helen jumped.

”Turn up the volume, Jenny. Come on, guys, relax,” Stacey said to her guests.

”So that's Blair Whitman. Whew!” Helen pretended to wipe her brow.

”That was nothing, sweetheart,” Marty said and grabbed a celery stick from the bar. ”She behaved rather well.”

Cory still watched the door. ”Why did she act like a wounded puppy when you-”

”I've never seen her react to anyone like that,” Marty said to Helen.

Stacey grinned. ”I'll pay for it. Blair and I, well, we've been...sort of, uh...seeing each other for the past month.”

”What?” Marty said.

”Nothing serious. You know me. We're just dating,” she said and poured herself another gla.s.s of wine.