Strange things, indeed, were happening to her sexually these days. Frightened at first by the realization of her attraction to other women-which she'd never suspected-she'd retreated into a frantic search for new, preferably strange, men to please. She'd had a couple of false starts, and new confirmation of her sexual ambiguity in the brief seduction by Helga the maid, and then she'd done some rather stupid things trying to prove her heterosexuality to herself in France, on holiday.
These had only confirmed the fact that the sort of man you meet when you're trying to prove something to yourself is very un-likely to provide even a satisfying ephemeral relationship, and'-in the case of Marie-Helene-confirmed her growing suspicion that she was, indeed, very strongly attracted to the bodies of women.
Yet the mere fact of having sex with a girl was not enough in itself, it seemed. There seemed to be something in there about-oh, vulnerability, sharing, giving, maybe even the abstraction called love. Certainly what she felt for Mary Alice-a deep friendship, combined with affection and a surprisingly strong sense of protectiveness-was something more complex than mere sexual attraction. That…that was what she felt for Myra, for instance. That was what was giving her little twinges of sexual perturbation every time Myra's glance landed on her, now, and lingered for a second.
After all (she reminded herself), she'd been-was it only an hours or so ago?-quite recently locked in the most intimate of embraces with the girl. God, her very flesh tingled at the thought of it! That long, hot and incredibly expert tongue of hers!
Now, however, as she looked up, Max the sculptress entered. A one-sided grin came over her face as she looked up at Nan; somehow the mannish grin fit the striking Slavic face with its marvelous aquiline nose and wide cheekbones. Now, returning the once-over gaze Max gave her bare body, she noticed Max was actually quite a trimly built girl-with a lean-lined, athletic body that did not run to mannishness at all filling out the dark jumpsuit she wore very fetchingly.
Watching her own appraising gaze, Max smiled with a wry amusement Then, squeezing Myra's shoulder, she came forward to speak to Nan in a low voice-so low that Nan had to watch her lips to make out what she was saying.
"Hi, baby," she said. "You look just luscious. I can hardly keep myself from dipping down there and giving you a lick right now."
"I…" Nan swallowed. She knew she must be blushing hotly now.
"Look, sweetheart," the short-haired girl said, looking Nan hard in the eye and pressing her bare foot warmly with a strong but gentle hand, "I have to get busy on that commission tomorrow night or I'm in trouble. Why don't you stop by and I'll at least get it set up? Maybe we can combine business with…a little pleasure." And her strong fingertips tickled the sole of Nan's foot lightly. "Say, tomorrow at seven? Okay?"
"I…I'll let you know," Nan said. "How can I reach you?"
"Ask Louise. I'm in the office phone book. And look, hon. I'm looking forward to seeing you. Right?" And, winking at Nan, she gave her calf a familiar pat on the way out
Nan's head was virtually spinning. She hadn't had so much action since…since she and Ed were young lovers, at the peak of their sexual attraction. And here all of a sudden she had taken two lovers in a single day and made a virtual assignation with a third. The thought was enough to take your breath away, she told herself. (She would just dearly love to be able to reach down and have a swipe at her crotch right now; sensitive as it was, she was sure it was wet and juicy right this moment-and, she thought with another blush, open for everyone to see the fact)
She had just closed her eyes, trying to get her mind off the admittedly very tempting subject when a commotion outside-women's voices, talking very animatedly about something-caught her attention. She looked up. Myra, her brow knit dropped her critique of a student's setup and went to the door. The voices grew louder; Myra went out disappeared.
When she came back her face was totally different There was an expression of shock and concern on it and, looking up at Nan, she said, "Excuse me. Nan. Could you…? "
Nan looked up. "Me?"
"Yes," she said. "Put your robe on. I dunk we have an emergency."
Nan stood up, stretching. Then she picked up the dasbiki. "Emergency?"
"Yes…there's been a highway accident…Mary Alice…the hospital just called… "
Nan's face wait white as a sheet "Oh, God," she said. She dropped the robe; her knees shook; she had all she could do to keep from collapsing on the floor.
"Quick, honey," Myra said, "get yourself together. Louise is going to drive a few of us down to the hospital When she talked to the doctor just now, the chances were no better than fifty-fifty."
Nan picked up the robe, tossed it over her head. She stepped into her slippers. "Oh, yes…by all means…let's go…let's go right now."
It was no time for getting in to see her, the nurse said. Things were still in emergency status, and two young medics from the emergency ward were working like demons to patch things up for the time being and halt die body's wild, almost uncontrolled reaction to physical trauma. There was a strong possibility of damage to internal organs; there was considerable internal bleeding. The possibility of temporary or permanent paralysis had been discussed.
The first of the doctors to emerge had much the same things to say; his hand made a comme ci-comme ca gesture, eloquent in its noncommittal futility, when asked what her chances were. His face was flushed and tired-looking.
Nan, walking about in a daze, saw Louise arguing with the woman at the reception desk; she wandered closer to see what was happening. "Can I help?" she said.
Louise turned to her with a worried, harried look. "Oh. Nan, you wouldn't know what Mary Alice's insurance situation is, would you?"
"It's just a matter of making sure someone, some agency, is responsible," the receptionist said. "If she's insured, there's no bother, you know…"
"I… " Nan said, her hand wiping her forehead. She was all over cold sweat I'll be responsible," she said. "I don't know about her insurance…that's all right. I'll take care of it"
"Ah…right" the woman in white said. "Your name?" Nan told her. Then she remembered she hadn't brought wallet or ID or anything. "I…residence Miami Beach," she said. "Please have the credit people look me up in Dun and Bradstreet and then call this number tomorrow. Louise? Could you give her the school number? Right Thanks, dear. That's Mrs. Edward P. M-I-K-E-L-L, Miami Beach. I'll…I'll take care of it."
The nurse gave her a skeptical look-her in her beach sandals and dashiki. She didn't look responsible. Then she shrugged and nagged the file card for action tomorrow.
Back at the house, Nan sat disconsolately on the big couch in Mary Alice's upstairs parlor-she guessed you'd call it a living room, the way the house was divided up, with the bottom floor all broken up with offices-and stared at the floor between her feet. There was broken glass down there; she'd have to remember to clean up after herself before somebody stepped on that and cut her feet. Clumsy of her anyhow, dropping a full glass of straight gin like that. Maybe it didn't matter, though. There was only herself to get hurt by it now. Mary Alice could be dead by now. She might…just might…never walk again anyhow, the doctors had told her…
She'd been on a crying jag ever since the girls had left Myra had wanted to stay with her, but she'd shooed her out-first pleadingly, then angrily. She didn't want solace now. Most particularly, she didn't want anything there to remind her of the tremendous burden of guilt she was carrying right now.