Another Kind of Love by Paula Christian Page B

her six months ago that she could feel so completely fulfilled, so perfectly at peace, she would have laughed. The sentimental trash in every corny poem, every romantic novel she had ever read, now had a vitality she had missed before, almost a special message just for her.
    Ginny stirred and cupped her hand around Laura’s breast gently, nuzzling her face against the other.
    â€œGinny?” Laura asked softly.
    â€œHmm?”
    â€œYou awake?”
    â€œUh-hm.” She pressed closer to Laura.
    Laura smiled and held her more tightly, resting her lips against Ginny’s hair. If she felt any more alive, she was sure she would burst.
    â€œTalk to me,” she coaxed Ginny.
    â€œThis is no time for talking.”
    â€œSure, it is,” Laura answered with a light laugh. “I’ve been thinking about us. Thinking about you here in the apartment with your shoes under the bed, a sweater hanging out of a drawer, the arguments we’ll probably have . . .”
    â€œWhy should I have my sweater in your drawer?” Ginny asked sleepily.
    â€œWhen you move in, I mean,” Laura explained.
    Ginny said nothing but pulled away from her slowly. Then she sat up on one elbow, a clouded expression on her face. “Hand me a cigarette, will you?”
    Laura looked at her carefully; she tried to make out what Ginny’s expression meant, but couldn’t.
    â€œI said I’d like a cigarette, please,” Ginny repeated with a tight smile on her lips.
    â€œIs something wrong?” Laura asked, a cold knot forming in the pit of her stomach.
    Ginny hesitated as she lit the cigarette Laura had given her. “Not wrong . . . exactly.” She inhaled deeply of the cigarette. “Just mistaken.”
    She rolled over on her back and watched the smoke curl up. Laura didn’t want to look at her now; she was even a little afraid to look at her.
    â€œMistaken?” she managed to say.
    â€œI can’t just move in, Laura.”
    â€œOh, not right away. I know that,” Laura said hastily. “You’ll have to clear up a few things first, and talk to Saundra . . .”
    Ginny shook her head. “No.”
    Laura turned and stared at her in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
    Ginny heaved a long sigh. “I love you, Laura. You know that. But let’s be practical about this, shall we?”
    â€œAll right, Ginny,” she said casually despite the constriction in her throat, “let’s be practical. By all means. Where would you like to start?”
    Ginny turned and faced Laura, petulantly at first; then her expression softened. “Please, Laura. Try to understand. It’s not as if this kind of love ever led to a home and family . . . I mean, well, it’s not acceptable to the world, so why not face it and do the best you can with it? If you get married to a guy, you’re prepared to endure certain hardships, like working while he goes to school or something. But if the marriage doesn’t work out, at least you can get alimony. What does a gay marriage get if it doesn’t work out? Nothing. So you have to get the most you can while you’re together.”
    â€œThat’s a stirring speech,” Laura managed to say.
    â€œLaura! Listen to me!” Ginny ground out her cigarette and put her arms around Laura with unsuspected strength. “I love you. I really do.”
    â€œBut?”
    â€œNo buts . . . It’s only that we have to face life the way it is. I’m no file clerk or laundry marker. I have a career ahead of me if I play it smart. Saundra can do things for me . . . things you could not do. If we moved in together it would mean the end of my career—Saundra would see to that—and I’d grow to hate you.”
    â€œDid it ever occur to you to try to make it on your own?” Laura’s tone was scorched with bitterness.
    Ginny released her abruptly. “Of course it has,” she