Chase Banter [02] Marching to a Different Accordion (18 page)

“We can do that? Isn’t it kind of dishonest?”

“What’s dishonest about it? I’m your right-hand woman. I look after you. Politicians have aids and speechwriters and all sorts of assistants. Their staff would never let their person get into a jam. It’s downright irresponsible if they do,” Donna said vehemently.

Chase nodded.

“Okay, let’s try it out. I’ll go in the bathroom and you listen. I’ll ask you a question and you wait for me to tell you the response—that way we can gauge the time delay.”

“Ask me a hard one.”

From the recesses of the bathroom, Donna yelled, “Ms. Banter, can you explain to me the polemics in Rita Mae Brown’s novel
Six of One
?”

“Are you fucking high? How the hell would I know that? Besides I was a baby dyke when I read it and all I really remember was the scene where the rich lesbian Celeste rips off the shirt of her lover, Ramelle, in a passionate moment and buys her a whole bunch of new ones the next day that she spreads out on the bed.” Chase popped another Mento.

“See, that’s a good example. The shirt-ripping scene could be viewed as an instance of violence and indicative of a rape although it was consensual sex. There’s also the highly controversial part where Ramelle sleeps with Celeste’s brother, Curtis, and bears his child. That’s not exactly proper lesbian behavior and then there’s always the southern manners thing.”

“Oh, my god,” Chase said.

“You’re doing fine. I can hear you and if you don’t say things like ‘are you fucking high?’ we’ll be all right. Besides my knowledge of lesbian fiction is way above average and I can vie with the best of them. And there’s always the passing the buck trick. If you can’t or I can’t answer a question, we’ll pass it along with the usual statement that ‘I think this is a better question for my esteemed panelist so and so.’”

“How will I know which one to pass it to?”

“I’ll tell you.”

Chase had been so busy she hadn’t noticed Gitana standing in the doorway wearing a low-backed black velvet dress with a somewhat plunging neckline. “Chase, who are you talking to?”

Chase swiveled around in her office chair. “I’m talking to Donna. You aren’t wearing that tonight?”

“Why not?”

“It’s practically indecent.”

“I picked out that dress. It’s not indecent. It’s sexy and stylish,” Donna said, through the Bluetooth.

“You’re responsible for that?”

“Where exactly is Donna?”

“In the bathroom.” Chase was now walking around Gitana, surveying the dress up close.

“What bathroom? Are you two channeling each other now?”

“No, she’s going to save my ass with technology,” Chase said, running her hand up Gitana’s naked back, suddenly feeling very lesbian and remembering the passionate shirt-ripping scene. She didn’t want to rip the dress off Gitana, but she did want to remove it very slowly. Gitana blushed.

Donna came out of the bathroom holding her phone. She pulled back Chase’s hair and demonstrated how everything worked while Chase admired Gitana’s plunging neckline.

“That’s brilliant and it might actually produce a positive psychological reaction that might enable you to answer all the questions on your own just because you know you have Donna as a backup,” Gitana said brightly.

Chase and Donna looked dubious.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Gitana said.

“Now about that dress….” Chase said, shoving her lust aside.

“She looks fabulous and how often do we get to have a fancy dress party?” Donna asked, studying Gitana and nodding approvingly.

“I think it’s politically incorrect,” Chase said.

They both look at her quizzically. “Why?” Donna inquired.

“Because we are exploiting her feminine attributes, which can be construed as sexist, and if I am dressed in a tuxedo,” Chase still couldn’t believe Lacey had talked her into that as well, “and she is in a ball gown, we are portraying a lesbian stereotype of butch and femme.”

When Gitana glanced at Donna for help Chase knew that her logic was sound. Donna bit her lower lip—a thinking posture. “Or the dress and the suit serve as an homage to the glorious past when lesbians had to be courageous, and dress-up was part of the scene—that sense of having an identity.”

Chase furrowed her brow. Donna did have a point. People’s points were getting on her nerves.

Gitana stepped in. “Chase, please. I like this dress and the party is all women, except for Bo, who doesn’t like boobs.”

“Only if I get to take the dress off slowly later on in the privacy of our bedroom,” Chase said.

“It’s a deal,” Gitana said.

Souls made of fire, and children of the sun,

With whom revenge is virtue.—Young

Chase was busy pulling more Chilean white wine out of Stella’s wine fridge when she turned around to find P.H. Kinjera standing behind her and making no bones about the fact that she’d been staring at her ass. Chase had spent as much time as was politely necessary with the new guests and was now assisting in food and drink procurement. She’d stood by as Lacey did all the introductions and Stella doled out New Mexican appetizers—taquitos, bean and cheese rolls ups, Jacinda’s homemade salsa with authentic chips and stuffed green chilies with cream cheese. The rest of the dinner, which was more native cuisine, was going to blow their bowels to seventh heaven. Chase had mentioned this fact and was pooh-hawed. “These are newbies to the cultural diversity of New Mexico and it would be a social crime not to immerse them in the culture,” Stella had informed her.

“So here you are. I wondered where our lovely romantic writer had gone,” P.H. said as Chase straightened up and tried to politely inch away. She pretended to look for a corkscrew.

“Romantic comedy actually—there is a difference,” Chase said as she opened another drawer.

“And what would that be?” P.H. inched closer, leaning against the counter and exuding trouble.

This wasn’t the first time Chase had been cornered in a kitchen. Stella’s kitchen had an advantage—it was large. It was those tiny studio apartment kitchens you had to beware of and getting cornered was yet another reason that Chase avoided parties. She was like those people who weren’t fond of cats yet attracted cats by the virtue of that fact. Chase had read somewhere that cats were drawn to these kinds of people because they saw them as no threat and could be counted on to mostly let them be with only a perfunctory pat just to look polite. Chase didn’t want to get too friendly with anyone, yet she seemed to attract people who insisted on getting friendly, usually too friendly.

Chase continued rummaging, knowing full well that the corkscrew was sitting on the counter next to P.H. She was using the ruse to get as far from P.H. as was possible. “Well, my work is more about exploring the foibles of lesbian life and less about melodrama—not that there is anything wrong with melodrama.”

“Melodramatic lesbian fiction seems to be more about the trials of being lesbian, loss of partners, trouble with parents, coming out, past relationships that have not been resolved and then some serious sex scenes.”

“That pretty much sums it up,” Chase said.

“And your fiction seems to be interested in redemption through the realization of our faults. You teach through humor.”

Chase had managed to put the kitchen island between them. “So you’ve read some of my stuff?”

“All eleven of them. The jacket cover photo proved very inspirational. I wanted to know the writer through her works and especially before I met such a beautiful weaver of words.”

Chase blushed slightly and hated herself for it. P.H. was definitely the Lothario Chase had pegged her for. She was a slightly built woman with a pretty nose, small mouth and almond-colored eyes. Her hair was black and spiked and if she wore a kimono she would have made a perfect courtesan.

“Don’t you find, however, that lesbian fiction on the whole, focuses too much on monogamous relationships, the getting of one and the keeping of one? Your fourth novel,
Whatever She Wants
, did explore the idea of non-monogamous relationships, but in the end you too succumbed.” She had picked up the “lost” corkscrew and was coming toward Chase. She playfully wagged it at Chase, who attempted to grab it but was rebuked. “Not so fast.” She came closer. “Don’t you ever get tired of always fucking the same woman over and over again? What if one could taste the delights of others but still maintain the original relationship and not harm it in any way?”

“I’d say you were dreaming. The mind and the human heart do not work that way.”

P.H. handed Chase the corkscrew and she took it, hoping this would put an end to the antics, but instead just as Chase was inching away P.H. put her arms on either side of Chase, effectively pinning her to the kitchen island. “Ah, but I think with a little practice it could be. Partner number one finds a lover and succumbs, meanwhile partner number two is allowed to do the same thing, all with the understanding that the secondary lovers remain in that position for as long as all parties agree.”

“Just keep it loose and easy,” Chase said.

“Exactly.”

“You act like having sex outside a relationship is the equivalent of joining a book club and meeting a few kindred spirits.” Chase could feel her face getting hot as P.H. leaned in closer.

“It could be. Have you ever tried it?”

“Once when I was very young and it didn’t get a good reception.” She hated having to admit to this, but she didn’t want P.H. to think that she was a possible candidate because she had never tried having more than one girlfriend at a time and thus had no viable experience to build her case on. “Besides, it wasn’t a committed relationship. We were baby dykes playing around.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall just over P.H.’s head. Where the fuck was Gitana? She had had to work late but would arrive in time for dinner.

“I think you could do it and I’d like to be your first experiment.” It appeared she was going to lean in and kiss Chase but for the timely arrival of Gitana.

“There you are,” Gitana said. “Stella told me you were getting the wine.” She glanced at P.H., who took a step back. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Chase’s life partner, Gitana Ortega.” She said this pointedly.

“A pleasure to meet you. P.H. Kinjera. I am a big admirer of your partner.”

“I can see that,” Gitana said sweetly. “So am I.” She took Chase’s arm. “Your mother sent me to find you. She wants the wine in this century.”

“Of course,” Chase said, grabbing the wine and the corkscrew. Gitana put her arm around Chase’s waist and then moved her right hand lower, giving Chase’s bum a squeeze as she glanced over her shoulder at P.H.

“Was that proprietary?” Chase said.

“Damn right. She’s lucky I didn’t deck her,” Gitana said as they passed into the living room. “Are you all right?”

“I think I need a stiff drink.”

Gitana laughed.

Donna came flying up. “She propositioned you, didn’t she?”

“You knew she was a letch and you didn’t tell me?” Chase said, alarmed at this sudden lapse in her P.A.’s behavior.

“Well, I’d heard things so I spent almost a half an hour extolling the virtues of your relationship—you’d think she would have gotten the point.” Donna appeared to be just as upset as Chase. “Oh, my goodness, this is horrid.”

Gitana put her hand on Donna’s arm. “I’m not exactly excited about it, but I think we got the point across.”

“Damn her! Do you know how many perfectly wonderful relationships she’s managed to screw up by offering a little on the side, and the worst part is that she makes it sound like it’s part of normal human behavior.”

“How do you know all this?” Chase asked.

“Anyone who knows anything about the current lesbian intelligentsia knows about the mind fucks that go on there.”

“So this whole panel-thing-touring-group of ‘let’s get our lezzie stuff out there’ is all about rock star fucking?” Chase was mortified.

Donna nodded, not meeting Chase’s gaze.

“There you are,” Stella said, taking the wine. Seeing it was unopened she looked quizzically at Chase, who handed her the corkscrew. “Why didn’t you open it in the kitchen?”

“I was accosted by a Lothario and had to make a hasty exit.”

“P.H.?” Stella said. She smiled sagely.

“How did you know?” Chase inquired.

“She propositioned me earlier. She says she loves older women and being straight is not a problem in her world. Of course, if I were going to fall madly in love with a woman it would have to be Peggy.”

Gitana was not concerned by this and said, “So how did you get away from her?”

Chase stared at her mother and seriously contemplated what she hoped had been a flippant remark.

“I told her I had a bladder infection,” Stella said, waving at Peggy who’d just come in.

“I’d stick close to Ellen McNeil if I were you. She’s dedicated to true love and longevity.”

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Gitana said, patting Donna on the shoulder. “Stop worrying and please spend some serious time with Lacey, who’s been promising the world to everyone and I’m not certain she has any real idea of the consequences of what she’s doing.”

“Like what?” Donna said.

“Like promising Delia she could make the opening speech.”

“Oh, no!” Donna said, rushing off, to find Lacey and put an end to the madness. She had her cell phone plastered to her ear. Evidently, she was going to locate Lacey one way or the other.

“Can’t we just go and see Stella’s new library and hide out until dinner?” Chase said, snagging a Corona off a tray as a rent-a-waiter went by.

“What about Isabel and Lily? I thought they were coming. And we’re supposed to keep P.H. away from Ellen.”

“Lily and Isabel will be fine. Alma is here and you know how much she and Lily enjoy each other’s company. Isabel and my mother can talk books. We’ll just check on Ellen about bedtime and make sure she goes to her own.” Chase had invited Sandra and Marsha from the SUP group as well, thinking this would be a great group opportunity, but they’d been called away for the funeral of Sandra’s great aunt. Lily had given them both serious instructions on how to properly behave at the funeral and the group had donned black and performed a mock wake to facilitate the learning process. Chase, not one for funerals, had found it most instructive as she’d just killed off the victim in her mystery novel.

 “Okay, but let’s just kind of mill around the crowd, wave a few times and then ease out of the room,” Gitana suggested.

As they reached the edge of the living room, Chase said, “Very good. Where’d you learn to do that routine?”

Gitana smiled slyly. “From attending church social functions, quinceaneras, weddings, funerals and every other kind of disagreeable social gathering. You should see Graciela do it. She’s incredible. She can enter and exit a room and give the appearance of always having been there.”

 They entered the library, which Stella had just redone to go with the rest of her new décor. It was beautiful and looked like it came right out of an English country house. It was dark paneled and had floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Stella had combined two rooms so that the library was spacious. It had a gas fireplace with an ornately carved mantel and a large Victorian-style desk. By the stack of books there were two long reading tables. Of these Chase was envious. She always found it extremely difficult to do reference work on a desk crowded with computer equipment. Gitana ran her hand along the reading table.

“You need one of these,” she stated. She looked around, “Actually, you need a proper library.” She hoisted herself up on the table.

“And just where would we put this library? The studio certainly isn’t big enough.” She gazed down at Gitana, who looked absolutely gorgeous. She had a clear view of her lovely breasts. Chase suddenly wished they were at home—not solely because she wanted to get away from these people, but because she had an incredible longing to be in bed, making love to her beautiful partner. It was more intense at this moment than in the earlier days of their love and it almost frightened her. Before Gitana could respond, Chase kissed her softly at first and then more urgently. Their tongues intertwined and then something happened to them simultaneously. Chase pulled up Gitana’s lovely dress and Gitana pulled her into her, unbuttoning Chase’s dress shirt and reaching for her breast and kissing it softly. Chase eased Gitana back onto the library table while Gitana unzipped her pants and reached inside. Chase let out a soft moan of delight. Gitana guided Chase’s hand between her legs and they moved against one another slowly at first and then hard and fast, exploding into each other together.

They lay breathing hard, their bodies wound around each other in a state of moderate undress when the library door opened and they heard Stella’s voice.

“I’ve just had it redone and it positively oozes authenticity,” Stella said, as she switched on the overhead lighting. Standing next to her were Alma, Lily, Isabel, P.H. and Ellen McNeil, who looked more stricken than Chase.

“What on earth are you two doing?” Stella said indignantly. “On my library table!”

“I would say that it was more than apparent,” P.H. said, her neat white teeth gleaming as she smiled.

Alma kindly looked away and began examining the books, as did Ellen. Isabel smirked as Chase tidied herself and Gitana slid off the table. “I think I’ll go get a beer. Chase, would you like one?” and she sidled out of the room as if nothing were wrong. Chase nodded belatedly.

Stella glared at both of them.

“Young lady,” Lily said as she stood next to Stella. “This is very high on the SUP scale, about a ninety-seven, I’d say, of socially unacceptable behavior at a dinner party—not to mention in your mother’s library. I suggest you apologize and curb your lust for a more appropriate time. I am aware that you feel that you are, so to speak, ‘losing your lezzie,’ but this is not the time or the place to exercise your libido.”