Chris by Randy Salem

Author:Randy Salem [Salem, Randy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Lesbians
ISBN: 9780941483421
Google: pP5bNAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0941483428
Publisher: Naiad Pr
Published: 1969-10-15T12:04:35+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Chris walked through the archway and into the solarium. She snapped on the lamp hanging on a cord above the desk and threw her jacket over the back of a chair.

It was just before nine, Saturday morning. Carol had not yet arrived. Considering the fact that they had been working fourteen hours a day, Chris was not surprised. She'd had trouble waking up herself.

She sat down at her desk and pulled over a thick folder of notes. Inside she found the checklist of data to be gathered. She read carefully through the list, checking off each item already covered. Everything was in order.

In three days she and Carol and the public library had amassed enough information to write a guide book to Tongariva and the Pacific islands in general. On Monday morning Jonathan would be expecting their report. He had taken care of the sea plane and diving equipment and clearance for the expedition. He'd spent a lot of money and he wasn't especially happy about it. Chris knew that her end of the deal had to be perfect.

Chris was satisfied that she and Carol had done a superior job. And glad there was little left to be done today. She was tired to death.

Not only had she been working hard. She had been under an emotional strain that kept her from sleep when she finally crawled into bed.

Carol had proved to be little short of perfection as a co-worker. They had exchanged few words during the long hours, and then their talk was strictly business. Both had been completely absorbed in the job at hand. Yet just when Chris found her head throbbing and her back beginning to ache, Carol was there with coffee and sandwiches and a smile.

Dizz had proved to be decidedly less cooperative. It was something beyond the usual chameleon moodiness. Chris had long since grown accustomed to the flickering warmth that changed abruptly back to the more usual chill of boredom and disinterest. But during these past three nights had been added a subtle flavoring of disgust and contempt that Chris had not known before.

Dizz did not believe that Chris was working until midnight. She hadn't said that in so many words—she wouldn't—but there was no warm supper when Chris got home; there wasn't even much pretense at civility. Dizz simply sat there on the couch, cold and serene, watching Chris, smoking, not saying a word. She had not been drinking. She was, indeed, sternly sober. And watching.

She was not listening when Chris spoke to her. She was not talking. And the one time Chris had made a move to kiss her, she had turned away in revulsion.

Alone and miserable in her bed, Chris had stared blankly at the ceiling until dawn came, until the alarm rang. And when she dared think at all, it was simply to pray that she could hold Dizz until they got away together. She dared not think that she could not win Dizz back.

And somehow it had gotten to be Saturday.

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