Pulp: the must read inspiring LGBT novel from the award winning author Robin Talley. Robin Talley

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      It was exhilarating to be going out without her parents on the spur of the moment this way. Janet was certain Mom wouldn’t have allowed it if she’d been with anyone but Marie, and she flushed with pleasure at the thought.

      “I thought we’d go to Meaker’s for dinner.” Marie squirmed through the crush of after-work passengers, struggling to keep her footing as the car lurched forward. A man in a fedora reached for her elbow to steady her, nearly dropping his cigarette.

      “That sounds perfect.” Janet smiled at the man until he released Marie’s arm.

      The two of them made their way to the back of the car. Janet couldn’t stop herself from staring down at Marie’s clothes. The perfect fit of her suit. The way she stood gripping the ceiling strap, with one heel turned out to steady herself as the streetcar rocked over bumps. The shape of her legs, so pretty in her stockings. It reminded Janet of—

      The book. It reminded Janet of the picture on the cover of A Love So Strange.

      She swallowed and tried, again, to make herself breathe.

      “Are you all right?” Marie peered at Janet tremulously as the streetcar swung beneath them.

      “I’m fine.” Janet had never felt finer, in fact.

      “You’re sure? Meaker’s is just another block, but we can catch the car going the opposite way if you need to go home.”

      “I don’t want to go home.” As they reached their stop, Janet hopped past Marie down to the sidewalk, glad to feel earth beneath her feet once more. She wasn’t quite sure what type of place Meaker’s might be, but she didn’t care. “We have to celebrate, don’t we?”

      Marie smiled and took Janet’s arm. “We certainly do.”

      The restaurant turned out to be a small, quiet place on a side street off Wisconsin, with worn white tablecloths and dim lamps overhead. The girls were seated right away, and Marie ordered for both of them, smiling up at the waiter with a poised nonchalance Janet envied.

      Marie was so strong and composed. She showed none of the clumsy awkwardness Janet always felt. It was a lucky thing Marie had wanted to celebrate with her.

      Janet smiled fondly across the table as two drinks appeared in front of them. She recognized the glasses from her parents’ cocktail parties. “What are these?”

      “Martinis.” Marie smiled and lifted her glass. Janet imitated her, trying to look equally refined. The waiter hadn’t said a word about identification, so he must’ve thought the girls looked older than their eighteen and nineteen years. No one here at Meaker’s, it seemed, had realized Janet was nothing but a plain schoolgirl. “My father always orders them on special occasions.”

      Janet took a swallow. The drink was cool, with a hint of spice. It tasted very adult. She could picture the girls in A Love So Strange sipping drinks like these alone in their apartment one evening.

      Marie asked about a friend from high school she hadn’t seen lately, and soon they were caught up reminiscing about their high school days. Before long, Janet’s glass was empty and a fresh drink had taken its place. She wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed, and she couldn’t quite remember what had just been said that had made her laugh so hard. All she knew was that Marie was laughing, too, and that was all that seemed to matter.

      Their food had arrived, but Janet had barely eaten. Marie’s pot roast and potatoes were in a similar state.

      “So this fellow Mom wanted me to go out with tonight,” Marie was saying, as she took another sip, “he’s a college man in town for the summer. Dartmouth. His uncle works with Dad at Treasury, and he’s a dreadful bore—”

      “How do you know he’s a bore?” Janet interrupted. “Have you met him already?”

      “No, no, but you know how these college men are.”

      Did she? This was the first time Janet had heard Marie talk about college men that way. Or was it merely the first time Janet had noticed it? Had Dolores Wood’s book changed the way she saw everything, all at once?

      “In any case,” Marie went on, “Dad’s up for a promotion—that’s why they’ve been going to the club so often—and so Mom thinks I ought to go out with this Harold Smith fellow, since his uncle would be Dad’s boss if he gets the new job. But I told Mom I didn’t want to go out with some strange college man. I said I wanted to go celebrate with my best friend. Mom huffed and puffed, but what could she say in the end? Soon I’ll be earning my very own paychecks, and she and Dad won’t have any say over what I do.”

      “Really?” Janet hadn’t thought of that. “Won’t you go on living with them, though?”

      “Well, sure—unless I were to move in with some of the other State Department girls, I suppose. A few of my business school classmates invited me to share an apartment, but I didn’t have a job yet so I had to tell them no. Wouldn’t that be magnificent, though? Not to have to follow anyone else’s rules? To be able to go out whenever you chose, with whomever you wanted?”

      Janet nodded, but in truth she couldn’t imagine such freedom. Until she’d read A Love So Strange, her dreams had only extended so far as a college dorm. It seemed a lovely idea, though, to be away from her family’s watching eyes.

      But in a dorm, of course, there were still strict rules and curfews. Living at Holy Divinity, only a mile or so up Wisconsin Avenue, might be even more restrictive than living at home. At least in the house Janet was allowed to use the phone when she chose, provided Mom, Dad and Grandma didn’t need to make a call.

      “I must admit, I’m a bit nervous.” Marie bit her lip, and Janet forgot all her musings about college and apartments.

      In their place, her hope flared bright. Could Marie be nervous for the same reason as Janet?

      “What will everyone in the office think of me?” Marie gazed down into her drink. “What if I don’t keep up with the other girls? What if my boss expects more of me than I can do?”

      Janet tamped down her disappointment. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. They’ll all adore you. How could they not?”

      Marie smiled up at her, yet she still looked bashful. “That’s kind of you to say.”

      “I’m not being kind. I’m being honest. You’re perfect, Marie.”

      The words were out of her mouth before Janet could think about how they sounded. Now she felt bashful, too.

      Yet Marie didn’t look embarrassed as she held her gaze across the table.

      Neither of them spoke, but something passed in that shared look that Janet couldn’t have named. It buzzed through her with an energy she’d never known.

      Unless that, too, was solely in Janet’s imagination.

      The waiter came to take their empty glasses, inquiring if they needed anything else. His eyes were on Marie and she answered for them both, in a voice so grown-up Janet couldn’t believe she’d ever found cause to be nervous about anything. “No, thank you. I suppose it’s getting late.”

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