Coming Attractions Part 23

Nights were increasingly difficult. The dreams, the screams, a consuming fire, and they always involved Cory leaving her seat and walking into the flames.

"Cory!" Helen yelled and awakened to an empty bed and their black-and-white photo.

She wiped her eyes, struggled to her good leg, and then removed their picture from the wall. She placed it in her closet. "Feel better in there, baby?" Helen went back to bed.

Chapter Twenty-four.

Two weeks after Cory left, Helen's confining casts were removed. Her transition from fully involved with Cory to adjusting to single life was difficult, but she immersed her legs and arm into physical therapy and kept otherwise busy with final preparations for their show. Two days before their curtain was scheduled to rise, she saw Teresa for a follow-up appointment.

Helen eased herself from the white, crackly paper of the exam table.

"How do your legs feel when you walk?" Teresa asked, after completing her own examination.

"Heavy. Stubby. I don't know. There's still some nerve damage, but the ortho doctor a.s.sured me that most of the feeling would eventually return."

"Do you feel pain?"

"Sometimes, but it's nothing to complain about."

"How's physical therapy going?"

"All right. I'm still shaky with walking, but I'm tired of using crutches for balance. They're killing my arms." She stepped without using the aluminum supports. Left foot first and then the right. Right, Helen urged the disobedient leg. Come on. Now the right. She tried again and the leg moved forward. Maybe the crutches were her friend after all. "Sometimes I think my leg's been disconnected from my brain."

"It's been straight as a board for almost two months. The ease and range of motion will come back with therapy. It's just inconvenient at this point. Take some slow steps."

Helen placed her left foot in front of the right and s.h.i.+fted her weight onto Teresa.

"No." Teresa gently pulled herself away. "Hang on to me, but take your weight on the foot unless it hurts."

She took several more steps with greater confidence, but she didn't like the gimpy irregularity present in her gait. "Still better with support. I hope my limp goes away."

"It's unlikely. You're sporting about a half pound of t.i.tanium, and the joint won't be perfect, but it'll be useable. I have something that might help." She rummaged through a tall cabinet.

"They forgot to mention that tidbit, or maybe I forgot." She walked gingerly around the small exam room to loosen up. "What are those for?" she asked when Teresa held up two canes. One was black enamel with a bra.s.s handle shaped to fit the palm. The other was green. Chamberlain green.

"Lacks glamour, I know, but you'll be more comfortable using one instead of the crutches. You'll get the support you need." Santos smiled. "First one's on me. What'll it be?"

"Black," she said immediately. When handed the cane, she reached for the other. "No, green."

Sucker.

"Take your time. Don't stress your legs. Moderation is important."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Soak in a hot bath when you can. I also want you to try some exercises in addition to what your physical therapist tells you." Teresa reached into a drawer, withdrew a paper, and handed it to Helen. Then she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her prescription pad. She wrote quickly and handed the page to Helen. "Here's a few more painkillers, in case you actually don't listen and end up in tears." She smiled. "Now, there's one more matter. Carolyn told me about Cory."

"Whatever happened to patient confidentiality?"

"Physicians in conference. Are you all right?"

"I suppose." Helen shoved the prescription into her handbag. "I'm better about it."

"You know you can call me."

"I know." Helen stepped closer to Teresa. She hugged her, using both arms now. "Thanks for helping get me back together."

"You're a lucky woman."

Lucky? She was alive, yes, but Cory was gone, Blair was dead, and Helen had a b.u.m foot. They left Teresa's office and met Stacey in the waiting room.

"Keep an eye on her, Stacey, and thanks for bringing her over."

"Will do. You look hot with that cane," Stacey said as she helped steady Helen. She pressed the down b.u.t.ton when they reached the doors.

"I guess I'm getting closer to walking on my own two feet again." They entered the elevator, and Helen pressed the L b.u.t.ton for the lobby. They descended, and she stared at the blazing letter. Lesbian. Lover. Loser. But she had her health, whatever the h.e.l.l that meant. She laughed without meaning to.

The bell chimed and the elevator doors slid open. They stepped out onto the s.h.i.+ny, over-buffed floor of the professional building. Through giant gla.s.s doors, Helen noticed a light snowfall and signs of a wicked wind. Pedestrians huddled into their coat collars, heads down, hiding from the icy blasts of wintry air.

"Wow!" a woman said when she came through the door. A whistle of air followed. "This has got to be the coldest month." The woman groaned a s.h.i.+ver. Helen offered a polite smile but said nothing.

She looked down at her cane. "It's just you and me, kid."

Stacey corrected her. "Many people love you, Helen. Cory isn't the only person with the privilege."

Helen didn't respond but took Stacey's hand into hers. She pushed through the door using the rubber tip of her cane, her staff of Moses, and then Stacey hailed a cab. The show's group was meeting at Marty's at two for a final off-stage rehearsal.

It was after their practice, when they talked until early evening about their show. They'd each carried on the tasks of developing their acts and had settled on a name for the event. Helen agreed with their choice: "The Stars Night Out."

"This show will change our lives forever," Helen said. "We don't know if that will be for better or for worse."

"We'll need to support each other. That's very important," Marty said.

"Family," Jenny said. "Let's not forget our loyalty."

Stacey raised a gla.s.s of orange juice. "To family," she said.

The others raised their drinks and answered in unison, "To family."

The men cleared the table, grumbling in their macho way.

"Isn't this why G.o.d created women?" Jay said, and Jackie slapped him with a dishtowel.

"Don't invite me to your place," Jenny said. "I can see it now-"

"Mounds of dishes everywhere," Stacey said.

"I have a woman come in," he said.

Kim missed the point and jumped in. "See? A woman! Men do need women."

"Kim," Jackie said, "you've just set women back about fifty years."

Helen took Marty's arm and they walked into the kitchen. The others could have their brawl alone. She was quiet while she rinsed their dishes and Marty loaded the dishwasher.

"How does it feel to have your legs back?" Marty asked, taking two plates from her.

"Tiring. I'd forgotten how much work walking is. I need exercise."

"Well, give me a holler. We can go to your club or get fresh air at the park."

Helen mumbled to herself. "I wonder if Ms. Frosty is still in a heap."

"What's that?" Marty dropped the flatware into the basket. "Let go of it."

"That's what Carolyn said," Helen said.

"She told you to let go of the plate?"

Helen felt a tug on her arm and realized that Marty was wrestling her for the porcelain. "Oh. No." She released the dish. "She said to let go of the guilt." She dried her hands and Marty flipped on the dishwasher.

"Done," Marty said and slapped her hands together.

"Come on. There's something I have to say to the Bickersons in the other room."

Helen gathered her friends in Marty's living room. Marty sat across from her.

"Is this another pep talk?" Jenny asked.

"I think she's going to ask Marty out and wants us here to shame Marty into it," Kim said.

Helen laughed and looked at Marty. "Would I have to shame you into it?"

"No way, sweetheart."

"I'll keep it in mind." Helen looked at the group. "I want to talk about Blair."

"Go ahead, Helen," Mark said.

Helen thought for a moment. She watched while smoke from Marty's cigarette spiraled upward and scattered into different directions. There had been smoke that night.

"Blair touched our lives from many directions, on screen and off. I don't think I've ever met a woman like her." She paused while heads nodded in agreement and smiles invaded her friends' lips. "The first night I met her, I thought she was obnoxious, rude, undisciplined, and a lush. And she was. I think all of you will agree, but that was Blair. She was a pain in everyone's a.s.s, but also warm and intelligent and funny and sensitive. She was a friend."

Marty wiped tears from her cheek and she reached for Mark's hand. Phil stood with Nick, their arms around each other's waist, and stared at the floor. Jenny curled up on a chair and closed her eyes. Jackie came up behind her and rested her hands on her shoulders. Jenny sat quiet. Kim walked to the window as the back of her hand caught a tear. She looked outside and listened while Helen continued.

"And she was always straight with us, whether we liked it or not." Helen smiled at a memory. "She once told me I look like a sad c.o.c.ker spaniel when I'm not smiling." Her smile vanished and then her emotions broke. "I tried to protect her. Maybe if I hadn't pushed her downward-" Stacey came up behind her and wrapped her arms around Helen's waist. Helen turned and buried her face in Stacey's shoulder. "She's gone, I'm alive, and I feel so d.a.m.n guilty."

"No, Helen," Jackie said. "Never feel guilty for your survival."

"We don't hold you responsible," Jenny said when she reached Helen's side. She pushed the dampened hair away from Helen's cheek. "Blair would have said it was meant to happen that way and-"

"-and we shouldn't make ourselves crazy over something that will never be clear," Helen finished. A deep breath helped her continue. "So I'm accepting my life, and if you're listening, Blair, I love you and I'll miss you tremendously."

"Me too, Blair," Marty said into Mark's shoulder.

Kim walked to Helen's side, knelt, and wiped away Helen's tears. "That was nice."

Stacey cleared her throat and brushed a tear away. "So let's call it a night."

G.o.d, that felt good. Helen suddenly jumped. "One more thing! I want to make our announcement at the beginning of the show. How do you all feel about that?"

"I say do it and then we can slide into the good stuff." Marty danced a shuffle. "Dazzle them."

"Whatever," Jay said.

"Okay, Helen," Kim said with a new smile.

United in their purpose, they ended their night with hugs and kisses all around.

"The Stanwyck Theater, right, Helen?" Jenny asked.

"Yes, dear. March sixth. Rehearsal in the morning and be backstage by six that night," Helen said. Jenny was a great costume designer, but also a scatterbrain. And young. Twenty-three. Oh, to be twenty-three.

Helen and Marty lounged on the sofa after the gang departed. Tired from a long day, she yawned and stretched her arms. She rested her head on the back of the sofa. Marty leaned back onto the arm of the couch and an overstuffed yellow pillow framed her head and shoulders.

Marty closed her eyes. "It's gonna be a great show."

"If the patrons stay," Helen said.

"That never occurred to me. Do you think they might leave?"

Helen bounced her cane repeatedly on the tip of her toe. "It's a distinct possibility. We won't lose them all. The gays will stay. They'll be saying, 'I knew he was a queen or she was a d.y.k.e.'"

"We should have discussed it." Marty sounded concerned for the first time. "I hope I can handle it."