Robin Talley - Pulp - the must read inspiring LGBT novel from the award winning author Robin Talley

Abby wasn’t that concerned about the details of exactly how they’d get back together. Not as long as the end result involved being held again. Being held, and feeling like she mattered to someone.

But that still hadn’t happened, and Abby was still trying to act like that was perfectly fine. In the meantime, her family was slowly, slowly, slowly falling apart—but she was supposed to pretend everything was fine there, too.

And if Abby herself was also in the middle of a very gradual collapse, then hey, at least no one else seemed particularly bothered by it.

Mom cleared her throat, but she was still giving Abby that expectant half smile. As though she genuinely thought they’d now launch straight into old-fashioned girl talk about Abby’s postbreakup social life.

“Hey, so, um...” Abby tried hard to think of something to say. She had to throw her mom off track before she suggested they dig into low-calorie ice cream and pop in a Little Women DVD or something. “I think I’ve decided. Is it okay if I make my donation this year to the ACLU?”

“Of course.” Mom smiled. She was always up for talking about charitable giving. Everyone in the Zimet-Cohen family chose a charity to give to out of their savings every year. “I might do the same thing, after I figure out how much to give to the Northam campaign. So, Abby, I wanted to let you know—”

“Also, I meant to tell you.” Abby cut her off before she could launch into some other topic Abby didn’t want to talk about. “I finally have an idea for my senior project. I’m going to write a lesbian pulp fiction novel.”

Mom stopped short and raised her eyebrows. “What exactly is that?”

“Oh, I thought you’d know. They were big in the fifties.”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t alive in the fifties.” Mom laughed again.

“Well, all I’m saying is, they’re old.” Abby rolled her eyes. “Plus it turns out some of them are pretty awesome. I kind of can’t stop thinking about this one that I read. Here, this is what they looked like.”

She pulled up Satan Was a Lesbian and held out her phone. Mom peered at the screen, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

“I know that one looks ridiculous, but if you can believe it, some of the books are really good.” Abby knew she was prattling on, but at least her mom wasn’t awkwardly trying to relate to her anymore. “I just read one about these women living in New York, and they’re both fascinating. Especially this one, Paula. She might be my new favorite fictional character of all time.”

Mom was still gazing down at Satan Was a Lesbian , looking lost, so Abby switched to the Women of the Twilight Realm cover instead. “That’s Paula there.”

“All right...” Mom zoomed in on the screen so she could read the text. “Is this an author who’s written other books you like, too? What does that say her name is—Marian Love?”

“No, that’s what’s weird, she never wrote another book. That’s not even her real name—all these books were written under pen names because everybody was closeted back then. People have figured out who most of the writers really were, but Marian Love disappeared without a trace. And since it was the olden days, she didn’t leave a digital footprint, either. It’s as if she vanished into nothing.”

It sounded glamorous when she put it that way. Although come to think of it, Marian Love probably was pretty glamorous.

She must’ve been a lot like Paula. Abby could picture her perfectly—an older version of the women on those book covers, standing in a shadowed doorway in a chic vintage suit with one eyebrow cocked, holding a cocktail in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Are you trying to find out what happened to this author for your project, then?” Mom asked, finally looking up from the phone.

“Well, I don’t have to look into that specifically, but—” Although now that Mom had mentioned it, that did sound interesting.

Maybe Ms. Sloane’s historian friend could help Abby do some extra research and track down the real Marian Love. It couldn’t be that hard to find her now that the internet existed. If she were still alive, maybe Abby could even email her. She could ask her about Paula and Elaine and what had happened to them after the book ended.

Or maybe they could even meet. Marian Love probably lived in New York, and that was an easy train ride from DC. Abby imagined walking into some trendy coffee shop in Brooklyn where Marian Love was waiting. She’d be so impressed Abby had found her.

“I bet I’d even get extra credit,” Abby mused, picturing herself shaking Marian Love’s perfectly manicured hand. “I could definitely use some extra credit.”

“You could?” Mom cocked her head to the side. “Are you having trouble in your classes?”

“Oh, uh...” Abby looked away, trying not to think about that paper on Danica Roem she still hadn’t turned in, or how close she was to missing Ms. Sloane’s deadline. “No, it’s just—extra credit’s always good.”

“Of course.” Mom seemed satisfied with that answer. “Well, I definitely want to hear more about this project of yours. First, though, honey, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Abby’s stomach jerked violently. She didn’t know what Mom was going to say, but she knew she didn’t want to hear it.

She stood up. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Sure.” Mom got up, too. “I only wanted you to know that Dad’s trip is running longer than he expected. He’ll be back Friday instead of tomorrow.”

“Oh.” That was all? “Okay.”

Mom was watching her closely. “He’ll hate to miss coming with us to services, but he’s trying to get a ticket to one out in California.”

“Oh. Oh ...okay.” Now Abby understood why Mom was making a big deal about this.

Thursday was Rosh Hashanah. Their family wasn’t particularly religious, but Mom, Dad, Ethan and Abby always went to the High Holiday services at the temple up on 16th Street, the one where Abby and her brother had gone for preschool. Even with all of Mom’s and Dad’s travel schedules, the whole family was always supposed to be together on holidays. “If he’s going to services there, why can’t he come back here instead?”

“He has a very important meeting, sweetie, and it’s a five-hour flight. Don’t worry, you’ll see him Friday. He’ll be home by the time school lets out.”

Right in time for Mom to leave on her next trip.

Usually they were slightly less obvious about it. This week, though, they each kept going away and staying only one or two nights at a time. Did they seriously expect their kids not to notice when they pulled this kind of crap? Suddenly Abby was in the mood to hurl some water bottles of her own.

She reached for the doorknob. “I really do need to go to the bathroom.”

“All right.” Mom followed her, brushing invisible lint from her pants. “Then I want to hear all about this new book you’re writing.”

“I don’t have time to talk about it. I have to email my first set of pages to Ms. Sloane tonight or I’ll get points taken off. Plus I have to do research on Marian Love.”

Mom looked as though she wanted to argue, but she nodded. Abby walked down the hall as fast as she could and closed the bathroom door behind her. She leaned against it, staring at the ceiling.

So Dad wouldn’t be home for Rosh Hashanah. Whatever. It wasn’t as if their family was especially into the holidays.

Maybe Abby wouldn’t go to services, either. She could go to school instead. If doing stuff together didn’t matter to her parents anymore, she didn’t see why it should matter to her.