Strange Are the Ways of Love

15

Laura was watching her intently from the couch when she walked into the apartment. There was some new and unfamiliar quality present in her eyes, some emotion Jan could see but could not identify.

“Where were you so long?”

It was a question, not an accusation. But Jan felt guilty immediately. Her hands began to tremble and she couldn’t manage to control them even though she clenched them. What was the matter with her?

“I got tied up,” she said, lamely.

“What kind of rope did they use?”

“Huh?”

“It’s after eleven, honey. Where were you all this time?”

“I—”

She saw that Laura was staring hard at her, noticing the way her hands were shaking. “Jan,” she said, softly, “what’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Honey, you’re shaking like a leaf. Come over here and tell me about it.”

She walked to the sofa and sat down, knowing that she had to tell Laura what had happened but not knowing where to start. She knew that it was nothing, that it had happened because she was tired and that it didn’t mean anything. But how could she tell Laura?

“Jan.”

“Yes?”

“Jan, something’s got you all in knots tonight. What is it?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“That’s possible. But don’t you think you ought to tell me about it?”

Silence.

“Jan? Sweets, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Are you afraid you’re going to hurt me?”

Silence. Her hands were shaking more violently.

“Jan, it hurts me more when you’re afraid.”

She closed her eyes. Laura was right — she had to talk, had to get it out of her system.

Slowly, haltingly, she began. She started from the time she left the apartment while Laura was still sleeping and went over the early part of the day, leaving nothing out. As she spoke her words flowed more smoothly, until by the time she got to Mike’s appearance the words followed each other easily, fluently. It was no effort to speak, no effort to recount everything that had taken place.

She did not look at Laura while she spoke. At first she kept her eyes shut, trying to lose contact with everything but the story she was telling. Later she focused her eyes on a lamp across the room.

Laura held her hand while she talked but this did not distract her. By the time she finished her hands had stopped trembling.

Laura remained silent, not moving at all, not saying a word. There was silence all over the apartment, hanging from the ceiling, pushing against the walls, weighing on the floor. A clock ticked mechanically in the bedroom and the rain lashed at the window.

Jan had hardly noticed the rain on the way over. Now she realized that her clothes were damp.

“Jan—” Laura’s voice seemed to be coming from far away as though she was speaking through a filter. “I’m glad you were able to tell me.”

“It was nothing. It didn’t mean anything.”

“But it did.” She smiled, a brief smile that left her face at once. “It meant more than you realize, honey, I guess I’ll have to draw you a picture.

“Jan—” She broke off, looking up abruptly. “Jan, this is very hard for me. I don’t want you to interrupt me until I’m finished. Okay?”

“But—”

“Please?”

“All right.”

Silence.

“First of all, I don’t want this to hurt you. It may hurt a little at first, but you have to realize that I’m not trying to hurt you. It’s just that I understand some things that you don’t understand yet. I’ve been here longer than you have. Sometimes I feel as though I’ve always been here, that my life started in this room and will end here. That’s why I know some things that you don’t... yet.”

Laura, I don’t understand.

“You... you don’t love me, Jan. Wait, don’t interrupt me until I’m through. You don’t love me and you never did love me, and I’m not saying this bitterly or angrily. I’m not blaming you in the least.”

But I do love you, Laura.

“Sometimes a person can think she’s in love, Jan. Sometimes a person needs something, and when another person supplies that something — it appears to be love. You... oh, I’m not getting through to you at all, am I?”

No. No, I don’t understand—

“You were using me, Jan. Not consciously — I don’t think you could consciously use anybody. But that’s what you were doing. It’s as though your back itched and you couldn’t reach to scratch it. I wasn’t a lover, honey. I was a kind of back-scratcher and your back doesn’t itch any more.”

You’re wrong. I need you. I still don’t understand what you mean and—

Laura lit a cigarette and shook out the match elaborately, her eyes focusing on the end of the cigarette for several seconds. “Jan,” she said, forcing a little smile, “let me tell you why your back itched. It itched because you wanted a man.”

That’s not true. That’s—

“You wanted a man,” she repeated. “You wanted a man but you were afraid of men, so you had to settle for the next best thing. Men were too strong. Men were strong and you were weak and they might hurt you. So you were afraid of them.

“I wasn’t a man; therefore I couldn’t hurt you. But at the same time you felt I couldn’t love you as well. You’re right — I can’t. Why do you think you were afraid to love Mike?

Love... Mike? “You weren’t ready for him. That’s all it was. And now you’re ready.”

Ready? Ready for what? Laura, don’t you know what I am? Doesn’t anybody know?

“You are in love,” Laura said. There was a certainty in her voice that kept Jan from questioning the words. She had to take them in whole.

“Jan, you’re not a Lesbian. Honey, you talked yourself into the whole thing and now I have to talk you back out of it. You got here because you weren’t ready to go all the way. Lesbianism was one of the rungs on the ladder. Now you’re ready to climb up to the top.

“Don’t try to argue with me, idiot. There are some things you still don’t know a hell of a lot about and this happens to be one of them. You’re not gay; you never were gay. You’re going to be happy and you’re going to have kids and a home, things that I couldn’t ever give you. You’re going to have a love with a future, honey, and I almost envy you.”

Silence again. Jan wanted to say something because something had to be said but she didn’t know what to say or even what to think or feel. Laura’s words began to soak in and the thought came to her that Laura was right, that Laura had to be right.

But she had loved Laura. And even as she thought this she felt the love fading away.

“Okay, honey. It’s your turn now.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say that you love Mike.”

“Do I?”

“Of course you do. You know that now, don’t you?”

“I think so.”

“Then say it.”

The words didn’t want to come out. First she had to take a breath, and then she had to force the words from her lips: “I love Mike.”

“That’s right, honey. Now tell me that you don’t love me and never did.”

“Laura, I can’t say that!”

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s true. Because you have to know it and make sure you know it deep down inside you so you’ll never forget it. And you’ve got to make me believe it, honey. Because I have to let go of you and that’s not an easy thing for me to do, not unless I know that we never had anything and that whatever we might have had is over.”

“Laura—”

“Say it, Jan.”

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can. Come on, now.”

She closed her eyes tight and turned her head to one side, mumbling “I don’t love you and I never did.”

It sounded cruel. Harsh and cruel.

“Again.”

“Why?”

“Say it!”

“I don’t love you and I never did!”

She shouted the words, no longer able to control the emotions within her. Sobbing, she threw herself into Laura’s arms and pressed her face against Laura’s shoulder. Automatically Laura’s arms went around her.

But for the first time these arms weren’t strong enough to hold her.

When she sat up she could feel herself withdrawing from Laura. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “I guess it’s all over.”

“It never existed.”

“Something did. I can still feel parts of it.”

“Maybe, but it was never love. We needed each other and we took what we needed. We were two straws clutching at each other, that’s all. Now we don’t need each other any more.”

“You don’t need me now, do you?”

Laura only hesitated for a moment. “No,” she said. “I needed you because there was something you needed from me. Now I’ve given it to you and I don’t need you any more.”

She nodded, understanding Laura and beginning to understand herself.

“Laura?”

“What?”

“What should I tell Mike? Should I tell him about us?”

“No.”

“But is it right not to tell him?”

Laura thought for a moment. “There’s an out for you, Jan. There’s a way to avoid telling him.”

“How?”

She looked away. “There was a novel I read a year or two ago,” she said. “By a man named Leonard Bishop. In it a boy named Ab made love to a girl named Rachel.

“Afterwards she asked him how many women he had slept with. And he said ‘One — the rest were shadows.’ ”

A pause.

“Is that what you are?”

“That’s all I ever was. So was that boy in Indiana, in his own way. Jan, nobody has ever made love to you yet, not really. You’re still a virgin inside. I’m a shadow — when the sun comes up I’ll go away.”

“And am I a shadow for you?”

For a moment she didn’t answer. Then, “I suppose you are. But all I’ve ever known are shadows.”

Silence. The clock still ticking and the rain still coming down hard against the windows.

“Laura—”

“What is it, honey?”

“Laura, I feel like crying.”

“Idiot. You ought to be happy. You’re in love for the first time.”

“I know it. But I still feel like crying. I can’t help it.”

“Don’t cry, Jan.”

“I—”

“Because I don’t want to cry and I will if you do. Please.”

She swallowed and said, “I’m all right now.”

“That’s the girl. You’re going to be happy, Jan.”

“I hope so.”

“You will, honey. Now... now I’m going to leave and I want to go before you do. I don’t want to be by myself right now.”

She stood up and walked to the closet, taking a raincoat from a hanger and slipping into it.

“Will I see you again, Laura?”

“If you do I don’t want you to talk to me. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Good. It’s better that way, Jan.”

“I understand.”

Smiling quickly, “Now will you give me a kiss?”

The kiss was very brief, very chaste and sisterly. Laura stepped back, her hand on the knob of the door, and Jan could see the tears flooding her eyes and at the point of overflowing.

She said, “So long.”

And then she was gone.