Part 21 (1/2)
”Baby, we belong together.”
”I can't do your show, Helen.”
Helen's heart sank after hearing no protestations or no ”screw the world, we should be together.” No emotion. Helen grabbed Cory's hand.
”You can't mean this.”
Cory sat quietly and touched the piano keys. Helen grabbed the cover, slammed it down, and Cory jerked her hands away in time. The echo was loud in the room, as loud as the look of fear that drenched Cory's face.
”d.a.m.n you, Cory Chamberlain,” Helen shouted. ”d.a.m.n you and f.u.c.k your piano.” She pounded her fist on top of the grand instrument and the strings vibrated their angry response. ”I trusted you would be with me that night.”
”I'm sorry. It doesn't mean I love you any less.”
”You're sorry? You were wrong when you said you couldn't write yourself out of a bubble. You've managed to write yourself out of this one quite nicely.” She pounded the piano again.
”We're giving each other room.”
”I don't want room from you, baby.”
”Then don't do the show.”
”I have to. I'm tired of the lies.”
”Can't we compromise? Why do they have to know about me?”
Helen laughed. ”Let's just rewrite lesbian history. We'll start with Stein and forget to mention Toklas.”
”Don't be ridiculous, Helen.”
”And you're being a s.h.i.+t. Fine. Have your d.a.m.n music.” Helen spun her chair around and started for the doors, but stopped halfway. She cried. ”How can you do this?”
”Don't leave.” Cory came up behind her. ”You said the position in Boston is my dream. That's true, but you're the woman for me and I don't want us to part over this. We need to talk and come up with a solution.”
”I've compromised my entire life.” Helen turned her chair to face Cory. ”And now I can't trust you.”
With Stacey's a.s.sistance, Helen returned to her own apartment. She'd felt her life had seeped out of her, that she'd left it at the Dakota. Cory had become her life and there was nothing wrong with that as long as they hadn't lost themselves in the other. Neither of them did, and that's what separated them.
”Call me when you get home,” Helen's answering machine played back. Cory's voice was tired.
Helen didn't call. She wanted to be alone, to whine, to cry, to make some sense out of her last few hours and decide what she should do to make things right. An hour later, the phone rang.
”h.e.l.lo,” Helen said.
”This isn't supposed to happen, Helen. You're overreacting.”
”Then be with me. Keep your promise.”
”I can't take the risk.”
”But you're willing to risk me?”
”I'm willing to compromise. You come out, I stay in.”
”We've had this discussion. I won't hide you. I refuse to live that way. What aren't you hearing?”
”That you love me enough to comp-”
”You need a larger vocabulary.” Helen was quiet. ”You lied to me.”
”I didn't lie. I'm scared.”
”Then stay in your closet. Go out and play when you can. The world will be proud of you. Good-bye.”
Helen hung up, once more betrayed by love. Chasing turned to caring turned to loving turned to leaving.
”Why did I even bother?”
She wheeled herself to the window, opened it, and took a deep breath. She looked to the snow-covered concrete below. She'd survived a plane crash. Would it hurt to jump? What was a little more pain? Who would be there to care? Stacey would. Marty would. Sam. Cory would be happily off to Boston, chased by a heifer. No. She wouldn't give either one the satisfaction.
”'Keep pa.s.sing the open windows,'” she quoted, and closed the window. ”Thank you, John Irving.”
She motored to the telephone, punched in Carolyn Ingram's number, and waited.
”Carolyn, it's Helen Townsend. I know it's late-”
”It's okay. Talk to me.”
She laughed lightly. ”I've been flirting with an open window.”
”What's happened?”
”Cory. We fought...I said f.u.c.k your piano...we broke up,” Helen yelled. ”d.a.m.n her! She promised me!”
”Promised what?”
”To appear in the show.”
”She's changed her mind? Is that what you mean?”
”Yes. She's afraid she'll look bad.”
”It sounds to me like she's protecting her future. You can't force her, Helen. That's emotional blackmail.”
Helen had no response.