Part 7 (1/2)
”I've been nuts about you for a long time.”
”About me? Why? How didn't I know?”
”You haven't found out there are other ways to dance?”
She could hear Ginger's startled intake of breath.
”What?” Jefferson asked.
”I never dreamed-”
”You're ful of dreams.”
”But not of this-of-”
”Your knight in s.h.i.+ning armor being a woman?”
”Sure. There was never a woman-”
”In your dreams.” She pul ed Ginger to herself, pressed her cheek to the side of her coppery hair, and experienced something she didn't recognize.
She'd been in love before, of course. Angela was stil like ivy entwining her heart that some day would leave impressions, fossils of love, but her sensations now moved inside those ivied wal s. She smiled as she pul ed away from Ginger.
Ginger raised one eyebrow, gazed on Jefferson.
Jefferson told her, ”I'm having a heart attack, girl. You're attacking my heart.”
”I don't know. I don't know. Who are you? You make me wonder-who am I?”
”Come on home. I'l show you.”
Ginger looked around again. ”Do I belong here?”
She saw what Ginger saw. A smal , crowded room where cigarette smoke was as loud as the music, the frequent laughter sounded brittle, as if alcohol was parching the drinkers, and the women looked strained, like this was al such hard work. Her gloom threatened to reappear. She was relieved when Ginger fol owed her outside, relieved that she didn't see any cabs, relieved at the silence and the darkness and the cold that caught and intimately mingled the vapored breaths from their mouths, relieved to be with Ginger Quinn, the woman she would make it her business to be with until, she clearly remembered thinking that first night, death do us part.
Chapter Twelve.
Jefferson stood naked, feeling strong and powerful. The curtains of her dormitory window were parted slightly so that she could see the morning beyond them. It was her junior year. The fal light was golden, buoyant, the day so intensely clear that everything shone with the remnants of the night's moisture. She could hear a few cars out early Sat.u.r.day below on the street. In the suburbs of New York leaves would be burning; here in the city chestnuts roasted in a cart somewhere on the avenues. Was it possible winter wouldn't come this year? The city seemed to waver before her eyes, so magical, so ful of promising corners and storefronts and signs she felt confused and excited at al the choices, like riches, before her.
A day to celebrate, she thought, ful of her cheerfulness, her youth, her powers. She jogged down the hal to the communal bathroom. It smel ed of mint toothpaste and disinfectant. The tile floor of the shower stal was cold under her bare feet, but she bore this discomfort stoical y, like al others. Under a sharp hot spray she lathered and shampooed her athlete's body vigorously, roughly, from short hair to wel -fleshed but neatly formed b.r.e.a.s.t.s, to solid muscled legs.
”Jefferson!”
Ginger's voice fil ed her with a warmth as steamy as the shower. They continued to spend hours in each other's arms imagining their lives together after graduation, recordings of music she borrowed from her parents' col ection playing softly, music that Ginger loved but had never owned, music she'd heard while learning dance. Over and over Jefferson dwelt on how perfect Ginger was for her, how lucky she was to have found her. But at times she'd feel frightened at how irritable she could be with Ginger and by her own compulsive flings with other women. Today she felt so good she only chuckled.
Marriage, as she thought of moving in together after graduation, would cure her of those urges, she was sure of it.
She turned the shower off. ”This is going to be one d.a.m.n fine day, Ginge.”
She could hear Ginger's toothbrush.
”You want to climb the Empire State Building with me?” Jefferson cal ed out. ”Or how about taking a boat trip around Manhattan?” Dry, robed, she joined Ginger at the sinks. ”What a face,” she told her. ”You know you're my princess, don't you?”
”Oh, Jefferson.”
”Did I make you blush?” She stepped back and bowed, robe and al . ”Would my princess accompany me to the park so I can count your royal freckles?”
Ginger smiled broadly at her in the mirror, green eyes fil ed with light. ”Again?”
”I didn't finish last time.” Her spirits were so high she had to bounce up and down. Shoot baskets into the toilet booths. Surely her blood was being carbonated with excitement as it coursed through her body. It'd cal for a lot of wine to level her out this day. She wished she could hug Ginger hard, but they'd be drummed out of the PE Department in an hour if they got caught.
Ginger turned to her, brus.h.i.+ng her shoulder-length coppery hair, a long-fingered hand curved around her brush. The occasional, prized touch of those hands was a gift Jefferson had found in no other woman, including those more generous with touching. Ginger shook her head, eyes amused and sad at the same time. ”You've forgotten midterm exams are next week.”
She had. ”Hel , we're uppercla.s.smen, we don't have to study.” She kept smiling and began to clip her nails. She enjoyed her hands and thought they looked solid and capable. She didn't want Ginger to worry about her grades, didn't want Ginger to think she was no good, and last night was to have been the final party before she buckled down. She had to get her grade-point average up this semester if she wanted to graduate on time.
”Sure we do. We'l make it fun, Jef. We can go study in the park. I'l help you.”
”No, baby, you have your own work to do. I'l get by. I always do.” She gave Ginger what she imagined was her most rea.s.suring, charming smile.
Ginger, from a working-cla.s.s Bronx family, had come to col ege with hardly an ounce of self-confidence. Jefferson, who'd grown up with wel -to-do parents almost two hours north of the Bronx, had learned to exude confidence and prosperity whether she felt them or not. And she knew her own self- possession always rea.s.sured Ginger.
Half an hour later Ginger was in Jefferson's arms. Always, Jefferson thought, hands firmly, familiarly caressing Ginger, the touch of this woman was like winning the World Series. ”You take my breath away.”
Ginger moved her face for a kiss. ”I love you.”
”Open the window.” Jefferson reluctantly let her go. ”Tel me you can resist a day like this.”
Ginger pul ed a long Hunter T-s.h.i.+rt over her head and crossed to the window in nothing but that and her flip-flops. Jefferson had been astonished to see the floor of Ginger's closet covered in rubber beach thongs of every hue. Ginger had explained about foot freedom, as she cal ed it. When she was in her room, not dancing, not walking far, she loved to treat her feet to barefoot freedom and at the same time protect them from harm. Hence, the flip-flops.
She ma.s.saged her feet with perfumed lotions, soaked them, and decorated them with flip-flops of every color and design she could find in Woolworths, Kresge's, May's, and corner drugstores. Ginger pressed her forehead against the screen while Jefferson admired her profile. She could see Ginger inhale a deep breath of the air. ”It's gorgeous.”
”Your accent's showing,” she said, moving to Ginger.
The occasional harshness that remained in Ginger's accent grated on Jefferson, who'd been raised to sound like a cla.s.s, not a location, but she thought she was good at keeping the irritation from her corrections. Ginger wanted to succeed out there in the world, after al .
”Sorry,” Ginger said quickly. ”Gorgeous,” she repeated, this time in open tones.
A warm breeze seemed to swirl into the room and wrap around them both. Jefferson was dressed in a faintly pink oxford cloth s.h.i.+rt, a red V-neck sweater, sharply pressed white slacks, and white moccasins. She stepped behind Ginger and pressed herself ful -length to her back, reaching around to touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. ”We could go out to Long Island Sound and rent a sailboat.”
Ginger turned and moved her eyes down her lover's body. ”You're irresistible, that's the problem.”
”Am I pressuring you, baby?” she asked. ”I thought it would be something you'd like to do.”
”It would, Jef. I'm not convinced it's a good idea this weekend.”
”We won't go.” She was disappointed-crushed-but unwil ing to upset Ginger.