F. Paul Wilson - Hosts

She steps into Jeanette's room, dark except for the glowing screen saver on the laptop. She starts forward but never reaches it. Hands grip her upper arms, turn her around, soft lips find hers. Kate stiffens, instinctively begins to recoil, then gives in to those lips. Jeanette's hands move from her shoulders to the buttons of Kate's blouse, tugging at them, freeing them, slipping the fabric off her shoulders. She's insistent, will not be denied. And Kate has no will to deny her or to fight her rising heat, for a new sensation is filling Kate, something she's never fully experienced. Lust.

She lets Jeanette guide her to the bed, lets her take her on the flowered spread, and feels transported to a place she's never been before, another realm. And for the next two hours she has her first private lesson from Jeanette, but not in computers, as a patient, expert teacher tutors her in the ways of warmth and wetness.

"One thing led to another and… we became lovers. Then partners. And I began my double life. A very eligible divorcee in Trenton; half of a luppie couple here in New York."

"Luppie?" Jack said, then waved his hand. "Never mind. I just got it."

"Jeanette said her gaydar picked me out during class—she called me 'a Talbot's dyke'—but had no inkling that she'd be my first."

"But she's been good for you?" Jack asked, and she saw real concern in his eyes.

"I don't think I've ever been happier or felt more… whole. Jeanette has been wonderful to me and for me. She's so tuned in. She's been my guide into this world I barely knew existed, while I've smoothed some of her rough edges and taught her to take a longer view on some things."

After coffee and sweet rolls they left the Greek Corner and wan-dered up to the urban garden that defined this length of Sixth Avenue, the Flower District.

"Where do you go from here?" Jack said as they threaded through the foliage.

Potted greenery lined the curbs, everything from rubber plants to oversized ferns to small royal palms. The storefronts were riots of color—reds, yellows, blues, fuchsias—and behind them, inside, dimly glimpsed through condensation-layered glass, lay deep green pocket rain forests.

Last week Kate might have picked out some flowers for the apartment, but not today… not in a flower mood today.

"In two years, when Lizzie's off to college, I'll tell the kids and Ron. After that it won't take long for the news to leak to my patients, and then the you-know-what will hit the fan. I'll lose a fair share of them. Trenton may be the state capital but it's a small town at heart. People will decide they'd rather not bring their kids, especially their daughters, to a lesbian pediatrician. Especially when there are five other straight doctors in the same office. And that won't make my partners happy."

"So come to New York," Jack said, slipping his arm around her shoulder. " Lots of kids here whose parents won't care how you spend your off hours. And it'll be great having you close."

She leaned against him. "You can't imagine how much I appreciate being able to talk to you like this. And I'm sorry for going on so. Listen to me: the love that dare not speak its name cannot shut up. But I've had this bottled up for so long and I feel so… so alone right now."

"But you and Jeanette must have some friends. I mean, there's a huge gay community down here that—"

"Yes, but I'm a forty-four-year-old baby dyke who isn't out. That makes me a sort of pariah to the younger dykes, the grrrls , the twenty-somethings who've been out since their teens. They think we all should be out and eff anyone who doesn't like it."

"'Eff'?" Jack grinned. "Did you say 'e/f?"

"I always have trouble saying the F-word."

"That's because you're a square. Always were."

Kate sighed. She couldn't take offense. It was true.

"I'm still a square in so many ways. A square dyke—can you imag-ine? A walking, talking oxymoron. Born square, doomed to die from terminal squareness. It's just that I was always trying to set a good example—for you when we were growing up, and later for Kevin and Liz."

"And you did," he said softly. "Just as I'm sure you still do."

"I don't want to change the world or be part of a movement. I just want to be me. It's taken me so long to get to this point that I just want to relax and enjoy it. And I never cared what others thought as long as I had Jeanette. We're both a little old for the gay club scene; we'd have dinner at Rubyfruits once in a while, but mostly we cooked in and just enjoyed being with each other."

"No dressing up and going out on the town looking like Wild One Marlon Brandos?"

"Just being a vanilla dyke more than fills my deviancy quota."

"Don't call yourself a deviant."

"It means deviating from the norm. And that's what we dykes do."

"Can't help how you feel. Not as if you're hurting anyone."

"Not yet at least. But when I finally come out… who knows?" She shook her head. "All because of a chromosome… one lousy chromosome."

"There's a gay gene?"

"Maybe. But I'm talking about the Y-chromosome, the one that makes you male. We females have two X-chromosomes, but if I could change one chromosome, change just one of my X's to a Y, my feelings for Jeanette would be considered perfectly normal."

Jack gave a low whistle. "Jeez. You put it like that, what's all the fuss about?"

"Exactly. One chromosome. And if I had it, I wouldn't have all this terrible angst and dread about letting people know."

He grabbed her shoulder. "Just thought of something. Are you going to tell Dad?"

Kate shuddered. She had no idea how her father would react. She loved him. They'd always been close, but he had no idea. No lesbians in his world. What words could she use to tell him that his only daughter was one?

"I haven't decided whether he should be before or after the kids. Either way, that's when the you-know-what hits the fan."

"Would that be 'ess' hitting the fan, or doo-doo?"

Kate laughed and hugged Jack. "Both!"

She loved the man he'd become. What great luck running into him. And what a wonderful feeling to be out to him. It had been so easy.

She looked around and realized they were back at the Arsley. She almost dreaded going back upstairs and facing Jeanette. Who would she be today?

"Mind if I come up with you?" Jack said.

Does he read minds? she wondered.

"I'd like that."

She keyed her way through the front door but stopped Jack in the lobby. She had to make one thing absolutely clear to him.

"No one else can know what we've discussed this morning, Jack. Not till Kevin and Liz are both eighteen. It's not just for my sake but for theirs too."

"Okay, sure, but—"

"No buts about it, Jack. Ron doesn't know and I can't predict how he'll react. He's a good man and I think he'll be okay, but you never know. If he feels his masculinity has somehow been compromised, he may try to get back at me through the kids. We have joint custody now but he might sue, claiming that as a lesbian I'm an unfit parent—"

"No way."

"It happens all the time, Jack. The courts can be rough on lesbians. But even if Ron accepts it, what about Kevin and Liz? The news will sweep through their school in minutes, and you know how cruel kids can be. Adolescence is hard enough. I can't add that to the load. When they're both in college I'll sit them down and tell them. Until then I've got to stay in the closet. Just like you."

"Me?" He looked shocked. "What—?"

"Yes, you. You're leading a double life just like me. You've got one face you show to the public but then there's this other side, this Repairman Jack thing that you've been hiding all these years—from Dad, from Tom, from me, and I'm sure from the police, since you've as much as said some of what you do isn't exactly legal. You've got your own closet, Jack."