Crystal, Installment 3

It was Janet’s first week after school was out. Erin (the daughter of Janet's old friend Helen, who stayed with Janet and attended Ferguson School) had had just been seen off home to Philadelphia, and Janet's half-sister Tommy was home, getting ready to leave for Illinois with Mom. Cindy, an unmarried friend who lived with Janet and her mother, had headed out to St Paul to visit; Janet was bored and just beginning to allow her mind to wander, recalling the recent adventure in Philadelphia. The two girls she had met there had been very much on her mind the last several weeks, especially since her half-sister had arrived home. Tommy, with her edgy personality and her tomboy appearance reminded her of Vicky. But ironically, her thoughts often went to the gentle, luscious redhead virgin she had loved that wonderful night. It was as if she had kept a part of Janet with her.
Janet had decided to shop for groceries out at the big supermarket in the town over the way. She had hardly begun, when one of the supermarket employees turned round—it was Crystal. She looked thinner, older, and some of the incredible freshness had gone, but it was unmistakably Crystal. Janet simply stared at her, as the girl went white, and then red.
“Crystal? Is it you?” she had gasped, her voice hoarse. And in her chest, a hand seemed to squeeze her heart, and her pulse raced.
Crystal quickly turned back to the shelf, and gripped it, to steady herself.
“Crystal …” Janet stretched out an arm to touch her. She was real, she was warm and perfect, the way she had always been!
Crystal turned and slowly walked out of the store. She said something to the girl at the office counter, who stared at them both and shrugged. Janet followed, leaving her cart in the store, determined not to lose Crystal.

She was leaning against the side of the building, round the corner, out of sight of the entrance, her face covered with her hands, her breathing ragged.
“I wanted to come round and tell you,” she said to Janet, “I didn’t want it to happen this way!”
“What to happen, what way? Crystal, what are you doing here?”
“Doing? I work here, Janet, I have a job! I’m not a bum, you know!”
“Yes, but … why here? What … Crystal, have you come looking for me?”
Crystal nodded, her face a mask of anguished embarrassment. The incredible cornflower-blue eyes were brimming with tears, but she did not cry. She was hardly breathing; she was waiting to see what Janet would say.
“What about your parents? Do they know you’re here?” Crystal shook her head. “You’ve run away from home?” Nod. “To come looking for me?” Another nod. “You’ve dropped out of school?” She shook her head, at first, but then nodded.
“Oh Crystal!” Janet exclaimed, her eyes and her voice full of emotion. “How long have you been here?”
“I don’t know … about five weeks, I guess.”
“Where do you live?”
“With a little old lady, here in town. Oh Janet, please don’t make me go back!”
“But … but … I think of your parents, and … I feel terrible! I imagine if my own daughter had to leave home, I’d be heartbroken! I … I am heartbroken … she has left home,” her eyes filled with tears, and she gave Crystal a sad smile. “I couldn’t wish that on anyone, dear girl … Oh Crystal, what a sad gift you have given me!”
And she was in Janet’s arms, weeping her heart out. She had not wanted to cause anyone any pain; she had only wanted to be happy.

After Crystal had gotten a little calmer, Janet had persuaded the young woman to go into the store with her, and ask for an hour’s break for an early lunch. “Tell them you’ll put in an extra hour to make up for it,” Janet urged, “and I’ll keep you company!”
The manager had squinted at Crystal suspiciously, but had okayed the plan. Then Janet and she had gone out to Janet’s minivan and sat in the back seat, close together, and Janet had told her how much she had missed her, and how fond she was of Crystal.
“But what can we do, darling? You have to go back to college, otherwise you’ll be a grocery store worker all your life, and you’ll regret not having all the things you enjoy—clothes, cars, a handsome husband, beautiful children, good schools for them—and you’ll think of Janet and shake your head and say: she stole my heart, and I left college to come be with her, and this is what I have become, a working woman, with no time for anything!”
Crystal drew herself up.
“I don’t mind working hard, Janet; it’s not for money that I’m thinking of going back to college. It’s for … another reason.”
“And what’s that?”
“I … I can’t tell you,” stammered Crystal.

Janet’s face wreathed in smiles, as she reached out a hand to touch Crystal’s arm. “Just look at you! I just can’t believe you’re seated here, in St Paul … talking to me, come looking for me! I can’t believe that— anyone would do something so crazy! And all I can say is … you’ve made me feel so special, Crystal, and for that I will love you forever!”
“Janet,” the girl said, suddenly grave. “On Easter Sunday, I knew what I wanted with my life. I want to live with you, an equal partner. I want to wake up every day, to see you, Janet, right there. I want to tell my kids, Janet is your mother! I have thought about this for a long time, and … I want you to know. That’s why I came here, Janet. Don’t say ‘no’ right away; think about it. I’m here, giving you plenty of space … you can go home to Ferguson, knowing that I’m close, but not too close… wanting you, waiting for you.” Her voice petered out, and Janet felt the tears surging up to her eyes. Crystal’s utter confidence in the way she felt was heart-rending. Janet lusted after the sweet young thing, felt tenderness for her. But Janet had nothing like the girl’s serene confidence that Janet and she were meant to be together. It was rather frightening. But now, as she drew close to the age of fifty, and her youth was turning to middle age, the knowledge that this lovely young woman desired her so much—it was irresistible.
“Do your parents know where you are?”
Crystal hung her head. She shook it, no. “I have to write,” she said. “I’m afraid they’ll trace me that way.”
“Write a letter; let’s send it to Philly, and my friend there can mail it. Nobody will know where you are.”
“Is your friend Helen Nordstrom?” Crystal asked, looking at Janet with her head cocked.
“Yes; how did you know?”
“The girl at the Inn told me,” Crystal blushed. “That you knew Helen Nordstrom well, that’s all.”
“Yes.” Janet studied Crystal’s face, noting the faint signs of jealousy. It made Janet hot. “I love her, Crystal. You have to accept that. Nothing you can do will change that!”
“I’ll make you forget her,” Crystal promised, with easy confidence.
Janet pulled out a pad and a pen.
“Write to your parents,” she insisted. “I’ll send it out to Philly. Or better, I’ll send it out to Illinois, with my mother.”

Crystal wrote a note to her father. She said she was safe, she had a job, and she was comfortable and safe. She was with good people, who cared for her and watched out for her safety. She would stay in touch, writing once a month if possible.
Janet watched her write, a feminine, decorative hand that was all of a piece with the career aspirations her family had for her. They had made the best of her apparent lack of direction, and taken the easy way out: make her an elementary teacher. Janet could hardly believe what she had done; evaded her family for a month, found work in an unfamiliar town, close to Janet. She looked less the princess now, more a lovely young woman. She was of a type Janet had admired with a certain amount of detachment, the spoiled child of affluent parents, with the easy beauty typical of women of that class, the kind who would win beauty contests if they deigned to participate. A trophy bride fit for a senator. She was a blank page, waiting to be written on, except that she had given herself to a very unlikely author indeed. When Janet had firmly turned her down, she had proceeded to take matters into her own hands. She was still a blank page, but a very determined one, who wanted to control very much what was written on her.

Janet longed to touch her. When Crystal was done, Janet took the folded paper from her hands, and their fingers touched. Crystal’s face colored, showing that she was as tuned-in to their closeness and the touch as was Janet.
Janet quizzed her closely about how she had come here, where she lived, and the story made her head spin. It was not a great adventure, but relative to the life the girl had left behind, it was incredibly daring. And her desire for Janet, her determination burned white hot through the entire narrative. She held back nothing. Now that the game was up, she told Janet all.
“By the end of the summer, I’ll be eighteen,” she said, “and Dad can’t force me to do anything!”
Janet sighed, looking at her thoughtfully. “You think of me as some fairy godmother, girl, but—what can I do to make you happy? I … my house is large enough, but if you move in with me—it’ll be a scandal. How can I defend myself, if I move in with a girl as young as some of my students? I’m not completely out, here in Ferguson, you know. If I were to …”
“No, Janet,” she said, firmly putting her hand on Janet’s. Janet covered it with her own, closing her eyes with the pleasure of it. “I’ll stay here, with Miss Agnes, … I’m not expecting to be rescued, or something.” Belatedly Crystal realized that, subconsciously, she had been. But now she understood the power of her position. Nobody could send her anywhere. “Maybe, I could come see you, once in a while, go out … something like that?” What did women do, when they were courting? Did it have to be under cover of night, in smoky bars?
Janet began to understand the situation very slowly. Crystal was asking permission to court her, and to be courted. Where she had got the notion, Janet didn’t know, but she wanted to proceed slowly and deliberately, to make their relationship as cautiously and firmly built on the outside as any relationship between a man and a woman.
“All right,” Janet said, “I suppose I can handle that.”

And so it happened that the next Saturday, Tomasina Krebs (Janet’s half-sister, who lived with her) was surprised to answer a knock on the door, and find a young woman on the doorstep, a startlingly beautiful redhead with the bluest eyes she had ever seen, holding a bunch of flowers.
“Is—is Miss Janet at home?”
“Janet who?”
“Janet Kolb?”
“Oh. Please come in, I’ll see whether she’s expecting you. What’s your name, please?”
“Crystal Baxter. Thank you.”
The moment Tommy had seen her, she had suspected what was up. “Sis,” she said, “there’s a Crystal Baxter to see you. She’s brought flowers, too!”
Janet had been reading, and she got up at once. “Tom, I want you to be nice to her,” she said, blushing faintly. She headed down the stairs.
“Who is she?” demanded Tommy.
“A friend of mine,” her sister answered.
“A student? Where did you meet her?”
“Hush! Be quiet. Don’t go embarrassing her, now.”
Tom watched, fascinated, as her sister went forward to greet the girl at the entrance. The girl blushed prettily, and held out the flowers to Janet, saying something Tom couldn’t hear, and glancing at Tommy a little uncertainly, hoping, no doubt, that Tom would disappear. Jan took the flowers with an exclamation of pleasure. They were lovely, roses and carnations, all colors. Tommy hurried off before she could be pressed into putting them in water, and went to look for anyone else in the house she could tell.
Crystal looked about, taking in the grand old house, and the spacious additions that were in a contrasting but harmonious style. It was beautiful, graciously furnished and decorated, a house in which Crystal could feel comfortable. For sheer size it beat Crystal’s family home by a small margin, but for elegance, a new house such as the Baxters lived in could never compete with the warm wood paneling, the timbered ceilings, and the wonderful, heavy carved doors.
“This is a lovely house,” Crystal said, appreciatively. Janet had led her into an informal sitting room and made her comfortable, and returned with a beautiful vase full of water. “The girl who let me in, is she your daughter?”
“That’s my half-sister,” Janet said, smiling. “She’s also Helen’s half-sister; it’s a weird set of circumstances, but … she does look a lot like Helen, tall and fair!”
“Uh huh, she sure does,” Crystal agreed. “She seems nice,” she added, politely.
Janet laughed, amused. Crystal blushed. “She is,” Janet said, as she arranged the flowers. “She was the sweetest child. Recently, though, she’s become a little—defiant, I guess is the word. Oh, it’s a long story. Goodness, I don’t think I can do justice to these flowers, Crystal.”
Crystal stood up, and realized that they would need two vases. She offered to help, if Janet would bring a knife and a second vase. “Come, let’s go into the kitchen,” Janet suggested, and they picked up everything and headed out to the kitchen.

Together they arranged the flowers, talking about inconsequentials, taking simple pleasure in each other’s company. A couple of times, Tom came in to take something from the refrigerator, and Crystal smiled sweetly at her. The second time, she got a brief smile from the girl, and a blush. The girl had strikingly good looks, like a statue. She disappeared for a while, and came back on some other pretext, and Crystal noticed that she had put on just a little makeup, a little something on her eyelashes, and just a touch of color on her cheeks. She had also pulled her skirt a fraction of an inch higher on her waist, the better to show off her legs. She lounged about the kitchen, and Janet put her to work, making them a pot of tea.
“Crystal, I’d like you to meet Tomasina Krebs, my sister!”
“Hi!” said Tom, smiling.
“Tom, this is Crystal Baxter, whom I met in Philadelphia.”
“Hi,” said Crystal, holding out her hand, “pleased to meet you!”
Crystal felt the cool, dry grip of the girl, and the firmness yet gentleness of the shake, and was intrigued by her. There was something troubling about those clear grey eyes. Or was it more troubled than troubling?
“So, how was Philadelphia?” asked Tom casually. “I have friends there!”
“Oh, fine, I guess; I went to college there. I live—close by,” and she told Tom where she lived.
“Oh,” said Tom, “I used to work at the supermarket there, a couple of years ago.”
“Oh? That’s where I work now!”
Tom grinned. “Oh yeah? Is Wallace there still? And Chuckles?”
“Yes, they are!” laughed Crystal. “They’re funny!”

Janet watched the interaction between the girls with a strange feeling of resentment. She smiled, allowing herself to be amused, but she looked carefully at her sister, trying to discern any attempt to get closer to Crystal than she should. She had never felt a competitor against Tom. Tom was just all wrong, as far as Janet was concerned. She was beautiful, and all wrong. And not so beautiful either, if it came to that. She was just striking, cold, fair, aloof and calculating.
Tom had prissied herself up for Crystal’s benefit, the shameless hussy, Janet observed to herself. Now she sat, with her leg tucked under her, showing off miles and miles of thigh. Only years of practice as a school principal helped Janet keep the neutral smile on her face.
Crystal had turned back to the flowers. Slowly and carefully she had sliced off the ends, and now with unhurried sureness she was arranging them in two vases. They were artlessly lovely, the kind of look that one could never get with calculated precision.
“There,” said Crystal, cocking her head to one side then to the other, cautiously endorsing her own work. “I think that works, don’t you?”
Tom pretended to inspect the flowers, and gave her approval.
“Well,” said Crystal, turning graciously to Tom and smiling, “it was nice to meet you, Tomasina!”
It was a dismissal if Janet had ever heard one, and she could barely suppress her grin of satisfaction.
“Call me Tom,” said that young lady, coolly.
Crystal giggled. “Oh, I couldn’t!” Janet had to put her tongue firmly in her mouth. Tom looked at Janet, and Jan raised an eyebrow.
“I guess I’ll see you around,” said Tommy, and left.

“She’s kind of interesting,” said Crystal softly, as they walked back.
“She certainly is,” agreed Janet.
She felt suddenly awkward. Crystal’s trademark perfume was befuddling her, and her smile said too much to ignore. Say something, anything, her smile said, I just want to hear you talk, to watch you, to be close here for as long as I can! She wanted to fill herself with as much of Janet as she could, to last her for the next few days.
“Would you like to walk round the garden, maybe, and talk for a little while?”
“That would be lovely,” said Crystal, her smile almost a kiss.

K