Jack saw it too after a moment, disbelieving it at first and then accepting it slowly, with wonderment. “Laura,” he said. “Do you still believe we’re just a couple of scared kids? Do you still believe we’re running away from the world by marrying each other? Do you think we’re going to spend our whole lives running after a love that doesn’t exist?”
“No,” she whispered.
“You’re still my wife,” he said softly, and put his arms around her now, at last, and made her tingle with awkward new feelings and unbearable tenderness. “Do you want to live with me again? As my wife?”
“Yes, Jack.” It wasn’t the passionate unreasoning yes she had flung at Beebo in desperation two weeks ago. It was quiet and intensely felt. It was a recognized necessity, but a beautiful one.
“For how long?” he asked skeptically.
“I’m your wife,” she repeated gently to him. “I’ll stay with you now.” There was a new sound, a new tone in her voice that caught in his heart. As for Laura she was once more bewildered by an unexpected tide of emotion that made it impossible for her to look at him. “Say yes, Jack,” she whispered. “Say it’s all right. Please, before I start crying again.”
He took her head in his hands and kissed her forehead and said, “It’s all right. It’s all right honey,” and suddenly they clung hard to each other and Laura began to sob with relief and joy. She could hardly articulate, trying to spill her lovely secret to him. “Jack, Jack, it worked. We’re going to have a baby! Darling, we’re going to have a baby!”
She felt his arms tighten till she lost her breath and when she looked up at him this time, with her face blotched and her eyes red and her lips curved into a smile, he found himself crying happily with her.
When he could talk, he murmured into her neck, “I saw the letter in the box. It came two days after you left. The damn thing terrified me. I swear, Laura, I couldn’t open it, I couldn’t even touch it. I wouldn’t even look at the damn mailbox. I was hoping so much it would be true—and so damn afraid if it was you wouldn’t come back. That I’d lost you and you might have to have it alone and you wouldn’t want it or love it—”
“Oh, stop,” she begged. “Jack, darling, stop.”
And they fell back on the bed together, crying and laughing and touching each other’s faces.
“My God!” Jack exclaimed suddenly, aware of his weight on her. “Did I hurt you? You ought to take it easy, honey.” But she chuckled at him.
“If you knew what this poor baby has been through already you wouldn’t have a single qualm about it,” she said, smiling.
He stroked her face with such an expression of love that she had to shut her eyes again. “I love you, Jack. I keep telling you that. I don’t know why, it just seems like I have to. Like I really believe it myself now, for the first time. I love you.”
And he kissed her mouth then. It had never happened before but it was right and wonderful.
They lay in each other’s arms and talked and made plans. They talked about Beebo and Terry, about themselves, about their baby, about life and how good it was when you were brave enough to face it.
Laura was afraid of Terry still. “Where is he?” she asked.
“God only knows,” Jack shrugged. “I left him in his room at the Towers. I’ve been doing this every night since you left. No drinking, no cruising, until I’ve checked the apartment to make sure you haven’t come back. I just told him, ‘If I don’t make it back some night you’ll know she came home. Don’t wait for me.’ I don’t suppose he waited very long, either. He’s not the type.” He looked down at her, his face serious again and frowning. “What about Beebo?” he said.
“It’s over. She knew it long ago. I finally realized it, too.” She raised her eyes to his. “I’m not in love with her now. Maybe I never was. But I respect her and admire her. She’s amazing. And much stronger than I ever gave her credit for. I wish to God I could change some things—”
“Don’t play that game, darling,” he said quickly. “That’s the surest way to break your heart and lose your mind. Save yourself for now. And for later. Save yourself for me and the baby.” He leaned down and kissed her again and, silent and amazed at herself, she returned his kiss with warmth.
“Besides,” he added, whispering into her ear, “Somebody’s got to clean up the apartment.”
“I’ll take the living room. You can have the kitchen,” she offered.
“Thanks.” He grinned and pulled her close in his arms, and she didn’t resist him; just nestled against his warm body and relaxed in the circle of his strength, a real strength, a man’s strength. It felt very good to her.
“After all, we aren’t expecting any visitors today, are we?” he said sleepily into her long light hair.
“Not a soul,” she murmured. She wondered, in that violet twilight before sleep, how long it would take her to get used to this closeness with him. She was so comfortable…more comfortable, it seemed, and more safe than she had ever been.
And they fell asleep together with the sigh of relief and hope that only the lost, who have found themselves, can feel.
Afterword
There are dark and bright times in every life. This book was written in what was, for me, one of the darker ones. It was a period when a measure of wisdom was setting in, both in terms of my personal life and in terms of what I had learned about the lives of gay men and lesbians. When my first book, Odd Girl Out,
