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diff --git a/77570-0.txt b/77570-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ddb6a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/77570-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8505 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77570 *** + + + + + WOMEN + IN THE + SHADOWS + + + BY ANN BANNON + + An Original Gold Medal Novel + + + GOLD MEDAL BOOKS + FAWCETT PUBLICATIONS, INC., GREENWICH, CONN. + MEMBER OF AMERICAN BOOK PUBLISHERS COUNCIL, INC. + + + Copyright © 1959 by Fawcett Publications, Inc. + + All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book + or portions thereof. + + All characters in this book are fictional and any resemblance to + persons living or dead is purely coincidental. + + Printed in the United States of America + + + + + 1 + + +_June 8: God help me. God help me to stand it. Today was our second +anniversary. If I have to go on living with her I’ll go crazy. But if I +leave her—? I’m afraid to think what will happen. Sometimes she’s not +rational. But what can I do? Where can I turn?_ + +_That damn party was awful. Anniversaries are supposed to be happy +affairs, but this one was more like a wake. Everybody got drunk and sang +songs, but there was always that corpse there in the middle of the room +... the corpse of that romance. Jack got terribly drunk, as usual. +There’s another one. If he doesn’t crack up it won’t be because he +hasn’t tried. What’s wrong with us all, anyway? What’s the use of living +when things are like this all the time?_ + +Laura shut her diary with a sudden furtive gesture, her pen still +poised, and strained her ears at a sound. She thought she heard the +front door open. It would be Beebo coming back. But it was only the +dachshund, Nix, scratching himself on a stool in the kitchen. Laura +sighed in relief and turned back to the diary. She ordinarily kept it +locked in a little steel strongbox on the closet floor, and she wrote in +it only when she was alone, in the evenings before Beebo got home from +work. + +Beebo had never read it—or seen it, in fact. It was Laura’s own, Laura’s +aches and pains verbalized, Laura’s heart dissected and wept over, in +washable blue ink. If Beebo ever saw it she would tear it up in a +frenzy. She would make Laura swallow it, because it did not say very +nice things about Beebo. And Beebo always did things in a big way, the +good along with the bad. + +Laura opened the notebook once more and wrote a last brief entry: _Jack +asked me to marry him again ... but I could never marry a man, not even +him. Never._ + +Then she closed it quickly and took it back to the closet and locked it +in the strongbox. She sat down from sheer inertia on the closet floor +and picked up a shoe. It was one of her pumps, rather long and +narrow—too large to be really fashionable. But it had the proper shape +and the newest styled heel. Beebo liked to see her smartly dressed. She +cared more about that than Laura did herself. Laura had worn these shoes +to the unfortunate anniversary party two nights before. + +Beebo was still hung-over from that long night of dreary festivity. Jack +was always hung-over, so he didn’t count. As for Laura, she had learned +from Beebo to drink too much herself, and she was learning at the same +time how it feels the next day. _Bad._ Plain bad. + + * * * * * + +It had been a strange night, with moments of wild hilarity and stretches +of gloom when everybody drank as if they made their living at it. Laura +remembered Jack arriving ahead of everybody else with a couple of +bottles under his arm. “Thought I’d better bring my own,” he explained. + +“Jack, you’re not going to drink two fifths all by yourself!” Laura had +exclaimed. She always took things at face value at first, a little too +seriously. + +“I’m going to try, Mother,” he said, laughing, his eyes behind +horn-rimmed glasses sparkling cynically at her. + +Beebo had been in a sweat of preparation all day, and the apartment +ended up looking almost new. A fever seemed to have gotten hold of her. +This had to be a big party, a good party, a loud, drunk, and very gay +party. Because this party was going to prove that Beebo and Laura had +lived together for two whole years, and in Greenwich Village that is a +pretty good record. + +Friends were invited, to admire and congratulate. Oh, to get drunk and +live it up a little too, on Beebo and Laura. But mostly to stand witness +to the fact that the girls had been together two whole years. Or rather, +Beebo had hung on to Laura for two whole years. + +Maybe that’s a hard way to say it. Maybe it isn’t fair. After all, Laura +stuck with Beebo, too. But Laura stuck because she didn’t have the +courage to let go; because her life was empty and without a purpose, and +living with somebody and loving—or pretending to love—seemed to bring +some sanity into her world. But for a long time she had begun to squirm +and struggle under Beebo’s jealous scrutiny. + +Laura let Beebo make most of the arrangements for the party. She felt +almost no enthusiasm for it. The whole thing had been Beebo’s idea in +the first place. Laura felt almost as outside of it as a late-arriving +guest. She ran a few errands, but it was Beebo who planned and +organized, who put up streamers and cleaned the apartment, who called +everybody, picked up the liquor and the ice cubes, and even made hors +d’oeuvres. + +She treated Laura with unwonted gentleness and attention all day. She +wanted her in a good mood for the party. They had quarreled so much and +so bitterly lately that they were both a little sick over it. Beebo +wanted to have a good day behind them, a day full of good will and even +tenderness. + +There wasn’t much time to foster tenderness, though, with the vacuum +going, the kitchen upside down with food in various stages of readiness, +the dog barking, and the phone ringing in an endless hysterical +serenade. But still, Beebo tried. She touched Laura’s hair softly when +she passed her or brushed her hands over Laura’s face. And once she +stopped to kiss her, so carefully that Laura was touched in spite of +herself and submitted, though without returning the kiss. Beebo went +away flushed with success. Laura had not suffered herself to be kissed +for nearly a week. + +So when the guests finally started arriving, Beebo greeted them with +high color in her cheeks and almost too much heartiness. Everything had +started out so well, it had to end well. + +It was a weird group that assembled to fete the anniversary. Beebo had +wanted a big party. “Jesus, honey,” she complained. “How many people +down here stick it out this long? We have something to be proud of, for +God’s sake. Let’s advertise it.” + +“What have we got to be proud of?” Laura said sarcastically. “We’re just +a couple of suckers for punishment. We just happen to enjoy beating each +other’s heads in.” + +Beebo had risen to the occasion with her quick and awful temper and left +Laura crying. And she had had her way. They invited just about everybody +in the neighborhood: the ones they knew, the ones they knew by sight +only, and the ones they didn’t know at all, male and female. Beebo did +all the calling, so it came as a shock to Laura to see two of Beebo’s +old flames among the guests. But she said nothing about it. There would +be time to shout about it afterwards. And shout they no doubt would. + +Jack came early because he liked the chance to talk to Laura by himself +now and then. He liked to be with her lately since his own life had +taken a sickening dip into loneliness and frustration. They were old +friends; sometimes they thought of one another as each other’s _only_ +friend. They were very close. It could never be a question of physical +love between them; only deep affection, a mutual problem, a sort of +harmony that sprang from sympathy and long acquaintance. + +They were both homosexual. And if Laura could never understand why a man +would desire another man, she at least knew, very well, how it was to +love another woman. And so she could build a bridge of empathy on that +knowledge and comfort Jack when some lovely boy was giving him hell. And +he could do the same when Beebo raked her over the coals. + +The party went along well enough for the first hour or so. Every time +Beebo came near Laura she pinched her or bussed her. It was a part of +her advertising campaign—a way to say, “She’s still mine. And it’s been +two years. Hands off, the rest of you!” And she would look around at the +guests a little defiantly. + +But for Laura it was tedious. It scared her and bored her all at once. +The fierce passion for Beebo that had boiled when they first knew each +other flared up rarely now. And when there was no love there was nothing +but fighting between them. She hated to be put on exhibit like this. And +yet she kept her peace and let Beebo kiss her when she felt like it. +After all, it was a party. Have a good time. If you can. Forget. If you +can. Everybody drink up and laugh. Laugh, damn you all! If you can. + +It was when Lili (she _would_ spell it that way; she was born plain +Louise) was well plastered that the party took a downward curve from +which it never recovered. Lili was a former amour of Beebo’s; Lili of +the ash blonde hair and carefully blackened lashes; Lili of the lush, +silk-draped body; Lili with the lack of inhibitions. Laura hated her +with a good healthy female jealousy. It had been intolerable at first +when she was still in love with Beebo and Lili had tried to manage their +lives for them. Now it was just an exasperation to Laura to have her +around. + +Lili got high in a hurry. She believed in getting things done +efficiently, and getting drunk was one of the things. She began to +saunter from group to group around the small apartment, flirting, +feeding sips from her martini to interested parties, telling tales. She +came upon Beebo in the kitchen, getting more sandwiches from the +refrigerator. The kitchen was crowded with people waving empty glasses +and looking for refills. Jack was pouring them as fast as he could and +sampling them all. + +“Important to get it just right,” he said. “Takes a good concentration +of alcohol or you don’t get fried till three in the morning. Terrible +waste of time.” + +Lili wriggled through the crowd to Beebo and stood in front of her, +weaving slightly, her underlip thrust out. + +“I want something from you,” she pouted. Beebo offered her a sandwich, +but she shook her head murmuring, “No, no, no, no, _no_!” + +“Jack’s handling the concession,” Beebo said a little nervously, jerking +her head toward him. + +“I don’t want liquor,” Lili said. “I want you. How come you never come +to see me anymore, Beebo? You’re enough to drive a girl frantic.” + +It was typical cocktail party drivel and Beebo was impatient with her. +“You know why, Lili,” she said. “Now scram.” + +But Lili was pugnacious. “If it’s because of that bitchy little Laura +out there, everybody knows you’re all washed up. It’s been obvious for +weeks. You do nothing but fight. In fact, I was saying to Irene just +five minutes ago that I can’t imagine why you wanted to give this party +in the first place and—” She stopped. Beebo’s face had gone pale and +dangerous. + +“You say that once more and I’ll kick you out of here on your fat can,” +Beebo snapped. + +Lili drew herself up. “Okay, lie to yourself, I don’t give a damn,” she +said. “Only it’s perfectly clear—” + +“Damn you, Lili, don’t you understand English?” She said it loud enough +to make heads turn. + +Lili smiled. She generally performed better with an audience. “I +understand,” she cooed. “I understand you prefer a button-breasted +bad-tempered little prude to a real woman.” + +Beebo took her roughly by the arms and pushed her out of the kitchen to +the front door, causing a stir of curiosity in her wake. “Now get out of +here and stay out!” she said. + +“You never _could_ handle me right,” Lili smiled. Suddenly she took hold +of her dress at the neckline and pulled it—soft, unresisting knit—down +far enough to disclose that she wore nothing underneath. Two creamy, +full breasts were bared. “All right, you fool—suffer!” Lili cried +dramatically and burst out laughing. Beebo stared and then slammed the +door. + +There was some confusion among the guests. It was funny. And yet there +was Laura, watching the whole thing. Everybody was uncomfortable. There +was uncertain laughter. Jack, who took it all in from the kitchen door, +said simply, “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing new. She did it to +Kitty Jackson last week.” + +After that there was obvious tension between Laura and Beebo. Beebo +didn’t kiss her anymore and Laura had nothing to say to Beebo. She eyed +her coolly from across the room, and moved away if Beebo drew near. The +guests absorbed the mood. + +Jack took it with quiet cynicism, the way he took most things. He saw +and he understood but he said very little. It was not his affair. No +matter that he had brought Beebo and Laura together once, a couple of +years ago. He hadn’t forced them to fall in love. That was their idea +and he took no credit. And no blame. + +Laura came suddenly into the kitchen where he was lounging by the liquor +bottles, waiting for customers and watching the company through the +door. + +“She’s impossible!” Laura cried. “God, I can’t stand it any more!” She +covered her face with her hands, and her usually ivory skin crimsoned +under her own harsh fingers. + +“Take it easy, Mother,” he said mildly, crossing his arms over his +chest. “She may be impossible, but she loves you.” + +“That doesn’t excuse the way she’s acting—” + +“She loves you a hell of a lot, Laura. She wouldn’t hang on to you like +this if she didn’t.” + +“I don’t want to be hung on to. I hate it! Jack, help me get out of +here.” + +“I can’t, honey, it’s your mess. I wish to God I could. If I were young +and female I’d lure her away from you. But I’m middle-aged and male. And +short on allure.” + +Laura took advantage of the momentary seclusion of the kitchen to speak +confidentially. She went to Jack and stood beside him, facing the sink, +while he watched the door for intruders. + +“She’s in there showing off with that damn dog again,” Laura said. + +“Nix is a nice dog.” + +“Jack, we can’t go to bed without that animal.” She turned away to blow +her nose. “Sure, he’s a nice dog. But he eats more than I do, and he +isn’t housebroken when he’s excited—which is right now. I swear Beebo +loves that dog more than she loves me.” Nix gave a volley of excited +barks from the living room and they heard Beebo’s throaty laugh. “Do it +again,” she was saying. “Come on, Nix, do it again.” + +“He will, too.” Laura sighed. “He’ll do anything she tells him to. And +wet the rug like a happy idiot. Do you know what that rug cost me? +Seventy-seven bucks. And I paid for it myself. Beebo didn’t even have a +rug in this place before I moved in.” + +“Okay,” Jack said slowly. “The dog isn’t housebroken and Beebo’s old +mistresses are a pain in the neck. Still, she loves you, Mother. So much +that it astonishes me. I never thought I’d see that girl fall for +anybody. Maybe you don’t want her love, but you have to respect it. Real +love isn’t cheap, Laura. When you give it up once you sometimes never +find it again.” + +“If it has to be like this, I don’t ever _want_ it again.” + +Jack finished his drink quickly, put it down on the kitchen counter, and +turned Laura around to face him. He was the same height as she was but +Laura looked up to him with her mind and heart. + +“Mother,” he said gently. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t ever throw love +away. If it gets so you can’t stand it, move out. But don’t degrade it +and don’t disdain it. You can’t stop her from loving you, Laura.” + +“I wish I still loved her. That’s an odd way to feel but it would solve +everything.” + +“You do love her, in a way. Only she exasperates you.” + +“No. It’s all over, Jack. The only problem is how to get out without +hurting her too much.” + +“No, the problem is to realize what your own feelings are and then have +the courage to live with them.” + +“What you’re trying to say is, you don’t believe me. You think I still +love her.” + +“Yes,” he said. + +“Why?” + +“It’s true.” + +“It’s not!” she cried, grasping his arms, and then she heard Beebo laugh +again and looked up to see her standing in the other room against the +far wall. She was strikingly handsome and for a moment Laura felt the +old feeling for her, but the love left almost as fast as it had come. + +Beebo was a big girl, big-boned and good looking, like a boy in early +adolescence. Her black hair was short and wavy and her eyes were an +off-blue, wide, well spaced. She had come to New York from a small town +near Milwaukee before she was twenty, and she had had a sort of +heartiness then, a rosy-cheeked health that had faded too fast in the +hot-house atmosphere of Greenwich Village. She took odd jobs where she +could; anything that would let her wear pants. And she ended up running +an elevator and wearing a blue uniform with gold trim. She had been +there for over ten years. + +The manager took her for “one of those queers, but perfectly harmless.” +But he meant a _male_ homosexual, to Beebo’s endless hilarity. She was +fond of remarking, “I’m the world’s oldest adolescent. I’m a +professional teen-ager.” It was funny enough the first time, but Laura +was sick of it. + +Now she stood in the living room of their small apartment playing with +Nix, and her merriment brought color to her cheeks. She had begun to +wear clothes that made her look sportier and healthier than she was: +men’s jackets and slacks, men’s shirts. And even, to Laura’s dismay, a +sort of riding habit, with modified jodhpurs, a slightly fitted coat, +and boots. She had a pair of high black boots in butter-smooth leather +with little ankle straps, boots made to fit the finely shaped feet that +she was proud of. It made her one of the sights of the village. + +“You look like a freak!” Laura had exploded when Beebo first tried them +on, and succeeded in offending Beebo royally. But the older girl stuck +stubbornly to her outfit. + +“I’m no man. Okay. But I’m sure as hell no woman, either. I don’t look +good in anything. At least these things fit me,” she defended herself. + +“Your underwear fits you, too, darling,” Laura said acidly. “Why don’t +you parade around in that if you want to cause a sensation?” But though +she needled her, Laura couldn’t make her change. + +Now Beebo stood in the living room, visible to Laura through the kitchen +door, dressed in the riding clothes. She did not look mannish like some +Lesbians. She simply looked like a boy. But she was thirty-three years +old, and there were very faint lines around her eyes and mouth. + +Laura’s little flash of desire faded almost before it bloomed. And when +she found that Nix had wet the floor, that Beebo had kissed Frankie +Koehne and Jean Bettman, and that the police had appeared saying they +had two complaints and the party would have to simmer down, Laura gave +up. + +She stormed into the bathroom and locked the door—the one lockable door +in the apartment. The guests took the hint and filed out, leaving the +apartment a quiet shambles. + +When Laura came out, only Jack and Beebo were still there. They were +sitting in the kitchen where they had collected most of the glasses, and +were finishing up whatever liquor was left in them. + +Beebo looked up when Laura came in. She was quite drunk and through the +mists she saw Laura, with her long blond hair and pale face, as a sort +of lovely vision. “Hi, sweetie,” she murmured. “You sure got rid of the +company in a hurry.” She grinned. + +Laura glanced disapprovingly at the used glasses Beebo was drinking +from. “You’ll get trench mouth,” she predicted. + +“Will you make love to me when I’ve got trench mouth?” + +“NO!” + +Beebo laughed. “You won’t anyway, so it doesn’t matter,” she said dryly. +“Come sit on my lap.” + +Laura leaned against the kitchen counter near Jack. “No,” she said. + +“Be nice to me, baby.” + +“Nix is nice to you. You don’t need me. Nix ruins the rug for you. He +barks loud enough to wake the dead. He even sleeps with you.” + +But Beebo felt too much desire for her to be jockeyed so fast into an +argument. “Please, baby,” she said softly. “I love you so.” + +And Jack, watching her, felt a pang of sympathy and regret go through +him. She sounded too much as he sounded himself a couple of months ago. +And Terry had left him anyway and wrecked his life. It was all so sad +and wrong; unbearable when you’re mismated and desperately in love. + +“Go to her, Mother,” he said suddenly. “She needs you.” + +Laura was miffed at his interference. But she knew what was bothering +him, and to soften it for him, she went. Once she was on Beebo’s lap, +everything seemed to relax a little. Beebo held her, leaning back +against the wall and pulling Laura’s head down on her shoulder, and Jack +watched them enviously. He knew, as Laura knew, and even Beebo must have +known in her secret heart, that the affair was doomed, that the party +had celebrated an ending, not a new beginning. And yet for a moment +things were serene. Beebo held Laura and whispered to her and stroked +her hair, and Jack listened to it as if it were a lullaby, a lullaby he +had heard somewhere before and had sung once himself. But it was a +mournful lullaby and it turned into the blues—a dirge for love gone +wrong. + +Beebo nuzzled Laura and Laura lay quietly in her arms and endured it. +She relaxed, and that made it better. She didn’t want Beebo to excite +her; she didn’t want to give her that satisfaction. So she shifted +suddenly and asked Jack, “Do you think they had a good time?” + +“Lili did. She loves to promote her bosom,” he said. + +“Laura, baby.” Beebo turned Laura’s face to hers and tickled her cheeks +with the tip of her tongue. “You taste so sweet,” she whispered. “I want +to lick you all over like a new puppy.” + +Laura couldn’t stand it. The once-welcome intimacy sickened her now that +she no longer loved Beebo. She got up abruptly and walked over to the +stove. “Anybody want some coffee?” she said. + +“You and your goddam coffee,” Beebo said irritably. + +“You could use a little,” Laura said, “both of you.” + +“I’d be delighted,” Jack said, speaking with deliberate care as he +always did when he was drunk. + +Laura made the instant coffee and passed the cups around. Jack doctored +his with a double shot of scotch and took a cautious first sip. +“Delicious,” he said, looking up to find a storm brewing. Beebo was +glowering at Laura. + +“I said I didn’t want coffee,” she said. “Nobody around here understands +English tonight.” + +“If you’re referring to Lili, I don’t like to be classed with your old +whores,” Laura said. + +“Why not? You’re in good company, baby. You don’t think you’re any +better than they are, do you?” + +“You should have told me you asked Lili! You should have _told_ me, +Beebo! And Frankie, too. God, don’t you think I have feelings?” + +“Good.” Beebo grinned. “I didn’t think you could get jealous any more.” + +“Oh, grow up, Beebo!” Laura cried, exasperated. “I can be humiliated. I +can be embarrassed and hurt.” + +Beebo poured her coffee into an empty highball glass, which cracked from +the heat with a loud snap. Her eyes looked up slyly at Laura, expecting +a reprimand, but Laura ignored it, too angry to do anything. Beebo +laughed and poured herself a watery drink from another glass. “Did I +hurt you, Laura, baby? Did I really? How did it feel? Tell me how you +liked it.” + +Laura didn’t like the way she laughed. “Does that strike you funny?” she +said sharply. + +Beebo began to chuckle, a low helpless sort of laugh that she couldn’t +control; the miserable sort of laugh that comes on after too much to +drink and too little to be happy about. “Yes,” she drawled, still +laughing. “Everything strikes me funny. Even you. Even you, my lovely, +solemn, angry, gorgeous Laura. Even me. Even Jackson here. Jack, you +doll, how come you’re so handsome?” + +Jack grinned wryly, twisting his ugly intelligent face. “The Good +Fairy,” he explained. “The Good Fairy is an old buddy of mine. Gives me +anything I want. You want to be handsome like me? I’ll talk to him. No +charge.” + +Beebo kept laughing while he talked. She sounded a little hysterical. +“No, I don’t want to be handsome,” she said. “I just want Laura. Tell +your damn fairy to talk to Laura. Tell him I need help. Laura won’t let +me kiss her any more.” She stopped laughing suddenly. “Will you, baby?” + +“Beebo, please don’t talk about it. Not now.” + +“Not now, not ever. Every time I bring it up, same damn thing. ‘Not now, +Beebo. Please, Beebo. Not now.’ You’re nothing but a busted record, my +love. A beautiful busted record. Kiss me, little Bo-peep.” Laura turned +away, biting her underlip, embarrassed and defiant. “Please kiss me, +Laura. That better? _Please._” She dragged the word out till it ended in +a soft growl. + +Laura hated Beebo’s begging almost more than her swaggering. “If you +didn’t get so drunk all the time, you’d be a lot more appealing,” Laura +said. + +Beebo got up and lurched across the room in one giant step and took +Laura’s arms roughly. She turned her around and forced a kiss on her +mouth. They were both silent afterwards for a moment, Laura looking +hot-faced at the floor and Beebo, her eyes shut, holding the love she +was losing with awful stubbornness. Jack watched them in a confusion of +pity. + +He liked them both, but he loved Laura as well. In his own private way +he loved her, and if it ever came to a showdown it was Laura he would +side with. + +At last Beebo said softly, “Don’t shut me out, Laura.” + +Laura disengaged herself slightly. “If you didn’t drink so much I +wouldn’t shut you out.” + +“If you didn’t shut me out I wouldn’t drink so much!” Beebo shouted, +suddenly. “I wouldn’t have to.” + +“Beebo, you drink because you like to get drunk. You were drunk the +night I met you and you’ve been more or less drunk ever since. _I_ +didn’t do it to you, you did it to yourself. You like the taste of +whiskey, that’s all. So don’t give me a sob story about my driving you +to drink.” + +“There you go, getting holy on me again. Who says _you_ don’t like +whiskey?” + +“I have a drink now and then,” Laura flashed at her. “There are so many +damn whiskey bottles in this apartment I’d have to be blind to avoid +them.” + +Jack laughed. “I’m blind,” he said, “most of the time. But I can always +find the booze. In fact, the blinder I am the better I find it.” He +chuckled at his own nonsense and swirled the spiked coffee in his cup. + +“Laura, you lie,” Beebo said. “You lie in your teeth. You just like the +way it tastes, like me.” + +Laura had been drinking too much lately. Not as much as Beebo, but still +too much. She didn’t know exactly why. She blamed it on a multiplicity +of bad breaks, but never on herself. “If you wouldn’t drag me around to +the bars all night,” she said. “If you wouldn’t continually ask me to +drink with you....” + +“I _ask_ you, Bo-peep. I don’t twist your arm.” She eyed Laura foggily. + +Laura turned to Jack. “Do I drink as much as Beebo?” she demanded. “Am +_I_ an alcoholic?” + +Beebo gave a snort. “Jack,” she mimicked, “am _I_ an alcoholic?” + +“Do you have beer for breakfast?” he asked her. + +“No.” + +“Do you take a bottle to bed?” + +“No.” + +“Do you get soused for weeks at a time?” + +“No.” + +“Do you ... have a cocktail now and then?” + +“Yes.” + +“You’re an alcoholic.” + +Beebo threw a wet dishcloth at him. + +“I’m going to bed,” Laura announced abruptly. + +“What’s the matter, baby, can’t you take it?” + +“Enough is too much, that’s all.” + +“Enough of what?” + +“Of you!” + +Beebo turned a cynical face to Jack. “That means I can sleep on the +couch tonight,” she said. “Too bad. I was just getting used to the bed +again....” She hiccuped, and smiled sadly. “Don’t you think we make an +ideal couple, Laura and me?” + +“Inspirational,” Jack said. “They should serialize you in all the +women’s magazines. Give you a free honeymoon in Jersey City.” + +“Knowing us as well as you do, Doctor,” Beebo said, and Laura, her teeth +clenched, stood waiting in the doorway to hear what she was going to +say, “what would you recommend in our case?” + +“Nothing. It’s hopeless. Go home and die, you’ll feel better,” he said. + +“Don’t say that.” Suddenly Beebo wasn’t kidding. + +“All right. I won’t say it. I retract my statement.” + +“Revise it?” + +“God, in my condition?” he said doubtfully. “Well ... I’ll try. Let’s +see.... My friends, the patient is dead of the wrong disease. The +operation was a success. There is only one remedy.” + +“What’s that?” Laura asked him. + +“Bury the doctor. Oops, I got that one wrong too. Excuse me, ladies. I +mean, _marry_ the doctor. Laura, will you marry me?” + +“No.” She smiled at him. + +“I’m an alcoholic,” he offered, as if that might persuade her. + +“You’re damn near as irresistible as I am, Jackson,” Beebo said. She +said it bitterly, and the tone of her voice turned Laura on her heel and +sent her out of the room to bed. Beebo went to the open kitchen door and +leaned unsteadily on it. + +“Laura, you’re a bitch!” she called after her. “Laura, baby, I hate you! +I hate you! Listen to me!” She waited while Laura slammed the door +behind her and then stood with her head bowed. Finally she looked up and +whispered, “I love you, baby.” + +She turned back to Jack, who had finished the coffee and was now +drinking out of the whiskey bottle without bothering with a glass. “What +do you do with a girl like that?” she asked. + +Jack shrugged. “Take the lock off the bedroom door.” + +“I already did.” + +“Didn’t work?” + +“Worked swell. She made me sleep on the couch for five days.” + +“Why do you put up with it?” + +“Why did you? It was your turn not so long ago, friend.” + +“Because you’re crazy blind in love.” He looked toward her out of +unfocused eyes. Jack’s body got very intoxicated when he drank heavily, +but his mind did not. It was a curious situation and it produced bitter +wisdom, sometimes witty and more often painful. + +Beebo slumped in a chair and put her hands tight over her face. Some +moments passed in silence before Jack realized she was crying. “I’m a +fool,” she whispered. “I drink too much, she’s right. I always did. And +now I’ve got her doing it.” + +“Don’t be a martyr, Beebo. It’s unbecoming.” + +“I’m no martyr, damn it. I just see how unhappy she is, how she is dying +to get away from me, and then I see her brighten up when she’s had a +couple, and I can only think one thing: I’m doing it to her. That’s my +contribution to Laura’s life. And I love her so. I love her so.” And the +tears spilled over her cheeks again. + +Jack took one last drink and then left the bottle sitting in the sink. +He said, “I love her too. I wish I could help.” + +“You can. Quit proposing to her.” + +“You think I should?” + +“Never mind what I think. It’s unprintable. I’m just telling you, quit +proposing to her.” + +“She’ll never say yes,” he said mournfully. “So I don’t see that it +matters.” + +“That’s not the point, Jackson. I don’t like it.” + +“I’m sorry, I can’t help it.” + +“Jack, you don’t want to get married.” + +“I know. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” + +“What would you do if she did say yes?” + +“Marry her.” + +“Why?” + +“I love her.” + +“Drivel! You love me. Marry me.” + +“I could live with her, but not with you,” he said. “I love her very +much. I love her terribly.” + +“That’s not the reason you want to marry her. You can love her unmarried +as well as not. So what’s the real reason? Come on.” + +If he had not been so drunk he would probably never have said it. + +“I want a child,” he admitted suddenly, quietly. + +Beebo was too startled to answer him for a moment. Then she began to +laugh. “You!” she exclaimed. “_You!_ Jack Mann, the homosexual’s +homosexual. Dandling a fat rosy baby on his knee. Father Jack. Oh, God!” +And she doubled up in laughter. + +Jack stood in front of her, the faintest sad smile on his face. “It +would be a girl,” he mused. “She’d have long pale hair, like Laura.” + +“And horn-rimmed glasses like her old man.” + +“And she’d be bright and sweet and loving.” + +“With _dames_, anyway.” + +“With me.” + +“Oh, God! All this and incest, too!” And Beebo’s laughter, cruel and +helpless, silenced him suddenly. He couldn’t be angry, she meant no +harm. She was writhing in a net of misery and it eased the pain when she +could tease. But the lovely child of his dreams went back to hide in the +secret places of his heart. + +After a while Beebo stopped laughing and asked, “Why a girl?” + +“Why not?” + +“You’re gay. Don’t you want a pretty little boy to play with?” + +“I’m afraid of boys. I’d ruin him. I’d be afraid to love him. Every time +I kissed him or stroked his hair I’d be thinking, ‘I can’t do this any +more, he’ll take it wrong. He’ll end up as queer as his old man.’” + +“That’s not how little boys get queer, doll. Or didn’t your mama tell +you?” + +“She never told me anything.” He smiled at her. “You know, Beebo, I +think I’m going mad,” he said pleasantly. + +“That makes two of us.” + +“I’m serious. I’m even bored with liquor. By Jesus, I think I’ll go on +the wagon.” + +“When you go on the wagon, boy, I’ll believe you’re going mad for sure. +But not before.” She put her own glass down as if it suddenly frightened +her. “Why do we all drink so much, Jackson? Is it something in the air +down here? Does the Village contaminate us?” + +“I wish to God it did. I’d move out tomorrow.” + +“Are we all bad for each other?” + +“Poisonous. But that’s not the reason.” + +“It’s contagious, then. One person gets hooked on booze and he hooks +everybody else.” + +“Guess again.” + +“Because we’re queer?” + +“No, doll. Come with me.” He took her by the hand and led her on a +weaving course through the living room to the bathroom. The dachshund, +Nix, followed them, bustling with non-alcoholic energy. Jack aimed Beebo +at the mirror over the washbowl. “There, sweetheart,” he said. “There’s +your answer.” + +Beebo looked at herself with distaste. “My face?” she asked. + +Jack chuckled. “Yourself,” he said. “You drink to suit yourself. As +Laura said, you drink because you like the taste.” + +“I hate the taste. Tastes lousy.” + +“Beebo, I love you but you are the goddam stubbornest female alive. You +don’t drink because anybody asks you to, or infects you, or forces you. +You’re like me. You need to or you wouldn’t! Ask that babe in the mirror +there.” + +“I can’t live with that, Jack,” she whispered. + +“Okay, don’t. I can’t either. I just made up my mind: I’m quitting.” + +She turned and looked at him. “I don’t believe you.” + +He smiled at her. “You don’t have to,” he said. + +“And what if you do? How does that help me?” + +He shook his head. “You have to help yourself, Beebo. That’s the hell of +it.” He turned and walked toward the front door and Beebo followed him, +scooping Nix off the floor and carrying him with her. “Don’t go, Jack,” +she said. “I need somebody to talk to.” + +“Talk to Laura.” + +“Sure. Like talking to a wall.” + +“Talk anyway. Talk to Nix.” + +“I do. All the time.” She held the little dog tight and turned a taut +face to it. “Why doesn’t she love me any more, Nix? What did I do wrong? +Tell me. Tell me....” She glanced up at Jack. “I apologize,” she said. + +“What for?” + +“For laughing about your kid. Your little girl.” She stroked Nix. “I +know how it feels. To want one. You just have to make do with what +you’ve got,” she added, squeezing Nix. + +Jack stared a little at her. “You know, it comes to me as a shock now +and then that you’re a female,” he said. + +“Yeah. Comes as a shock to me too.” + +He saw tears starting in her eyes again and put a kind hand on her arm. +“Beebo, you’re trying too damn hard with Laura. Relax. Ignore her for a +couple of days.” + +“Ignore her! I adore her! I die inside when she slams that door at me.” +She dropped Nix suddenly and threw her arms around Jack, nearly +smothering him. “Jack, you’ve been through it, you know what to do. Help +me. Tell me. Help me!” And her arms loosened and she slumped to the +floor and rolled over on her stomach and wept. Nix licked her face and +whimpered. + +Jack stood looking over her, still smiling sadly. Nothing surprised him +now. He had lived with the heartbreaks of the homosexual world too long. + +“Sure, I know what to do,” he said softly. “Just keep living. Whatever +else turns rotten and dies, never mind. Just keep living. Till it’s +worse than dying. Then it’s time to quit.” + +“Ohhhh,” she groaned. “What shall I do?” + +“Stop loving her,” he said. + +Beebo turned over and gaped at him. Jack shrugged and there was sympathy +in his face and fate in his voice. “That would straighten things out, +wouldn’t it?” + +Beebo shook her head and whispered, “I can’t. You know I can’t.” + +“I know,” Jack repeated. “Goodnight, Beebo.” + + + + + 2 + + +The bedroom door opened and Beebo surprised Laura sitting on the closet +floor fingering her shoes and dreaming. The party was two days past, the +hang-overs were still with them, but love was seven days behind them. +Beebo didn’t know how much longer she could take it. She had tried, +since Jack’s advice about relaxing, to keep her distance from Laura. It +had not worked miracles, but it had helped. + +However, Laura resented the love she could no longer return. Perhaps it +was anger at her own failing, her own empty heart. Laura felt a sort of +shame when Beebo embraced her. She blamed herself secretly for her +fading affection. Beebo’s love had been the strongest and Beebo’s words, +when she spoke of it, the truest. And yet Laura had said those same +words and felt those same passions and believed, as Beebo had believed, +that it would last. + +She could not be sure where she had gone wrong or when that lovely flush +of desire had begun to wane in her. She only knew one day that she did +not want Beebo to touch her. When Beebo had protested, Laura had lost +her temper and they had had their first terrible fight. Not a spat or an +argument or a disagreement, as before. A fight—a physical struggle as +well as a verbal one. An ugly and humiliating thing from which they +could not rise and make love and reassure each other. That had been +almost a year ago. Others had followed it and the breach became serious, +and still they clung to each other. + +Only now Laura’s need was weakening and it was Beebo who held them +together almost by herself. It was Beebo who gave in when a quarrel +loomed, who took the lead to make peace afterwards, to try to soothe and +spoil Laura. Beebo had the terrible fear that one of these days the +quarrel would be too vicious and Laura would leave her. Or that she +would go beyond the point of rational suffering and kill Laura. + +Once or twice she had dreamed of this, and when she had wakened in sweat +and panic she had gone to the living room and turned the light on and +spent the time until dawn staring at it, repeating the jingles of +popular tunes in her mind as a sort of desperate gesture at sanity. + +Now Beebo stood looking down at Laura and at Nix, who was chewing on a +pair of slippers, and she felt a wrenching in her heart. It just wasn’t +possible for her to ignore Laura any longer. She had kept hands off +since the party and her talk with Jack. There had been no begging, no +shouting, no furious tears. Now she felt she deserved tenderness and she +knelt down and took Laura’s chin in her hand and kissed her mouth. + +“I love you,” she said almost shyly. + +And Laura, who wanted only to leave her, not to hurt her, lowered her +eyes and looked away. She could not say it any more. _I love you, +Beebo._ It wasn’t true. And Beebo knew it and the knowledge almost +killed her, and yet she didn’t insist. “Laura,” she said humbly. “Kiss +me.” + +And Laura did. And in a little wave of compassion she said into Beebo’s +ear, “I don’t want to hurt you any more.” + +Beebo took it the wrong way, the way that hurt her least. She took it to +mean that Laura was apologizing and wanted her love again. But Laura +meant only that Beebo had been dear to her once and that it was awful to +see her so unhappy. “It’s my fault,” she said. “Only—” + +“Only nothing,” Beebo said quickly. “Don’t say it. Say sweet things to +me.” + +“Oh, Beebo, I can’t. Don’t ask me. I’ve forgotten the sweet things.” +Suddenly she felt like crying. She had never meant to wound Beebo. She +had had the best intentions of loving her faithfully for the rest of her +life. And yet now every pretty face she saw on the streets caught her +eye, every new set of eyes or curving lips at the lunch counter. + +Laura was afraid and ashamed. She had always protested hotly when +somebody accused Lesbians of promiscuity. And yet here she was refuting +her own argument, at least in her thoughts and desires. It was still +true that in the whole time they had lived together, she had never +betrayed Beebo with another woman. + +Knowing how Beebo felt only made Laura’s conscience worse. It made her +resentful and gentle by fits. Either way it was nerve-wracking and left +her exhausted. + +Suddenly Beebo picked her up and put her on the bed. She sat down beside +her and slipped her arms around her and began to kiss her with a +yearning that gradually brought little darts of desire to Laura. She +didn’t want it until it happened. And then, inexplicably, she did. It +was good, very good. And she heard Beebo whisper, “Oh, if it could +always be like this. Laura, Laura, love me. Love me!” + +Laura turned her head away and shut her eyes and tried not to hear the +words. Gradually the world faded out of her consciousness and there was +only the ritual rhythm, the wonderful press of Beebo’s body against +hers. It hadn’t been like this for Laura for months, and she was both +grateful and annoyed. + +Beebo made wonderful love. She knew how, she did it naturally, as other +people eat or walk. Her hands flowed over Laura like fine silk in the +wind, her lips bit and teased and murmured, all with a knowing touch +that amounted to witchery. In the early days of their love Laura had not +been able to resist her, and Beebo had loved her lavishly. + +Often Laura had felt an ache for those days, when everything was sure +and safe and certain in the fortress of passion. She had taken passion +for love itself, and she had been secure in Beebo’s warm arms. Now it +seemed that Beebo had been just a harbor where she could rest and renew +herself at a time when her life was most shattered and unhappy. She +didn’t need the safe harbor now. She was grateful, but she needed to +move on. It was time to face life again and fight again and feel alive +again. For Beebo the time of searching was over. It ended when she met +Laura. + +She had a small ten-watt bulb in a little bedstand lamp that shed a +peachy glow around them, and she always had it on when they went to bed. +Laura had loved it at first, when just the sight of Beebo’s big firm +body and marvelous limbs would set her trembling. But later, when she +was afraid her slackening interest would show in her face, she asked +Beebo to turn it out. It had been one more in a series of harsh +arguments, for Beebo had known what prompted her request. + +Now they lay beside one another, their hearts slipping back into a +normal rhythm, their bodies limp and relaxed. Laura wanted only to +sleep; she dreaded long intimate talks with Beebo. But Beebo wanted +reassurance. She wanted Laura’s soft voice in her ears. + +“Talk to me, Bo-peep,” Beebo said. + +“Too sleepy,” Laura murmured, yawning. + +“What did you do today?” + +“Nothing.” + +“Shall I tell you what I did?” + +“No.” + +“I got a new shirt at Davis’s,” Beebo said, ignoring her. “Blue with +little checks. And guess who rode in my elevator today?” + +Laura didn’t answer. + +“Ed Sullivan,” Beebo said. “He had to see one of the ad agency people on +the eighth floor.” Still no response. “Looks just like he does on TV,” +Beebo said. + +Laura rolled over on her side and pulled the covers up over her ears. +For some moments Beebo remained quiet and then she said softly, “You’ve +been calling me ‘Beth’ again.” + +Laura woke up suddenly and completely. Beth ... the name, the girl, the +love that wound through her life like a theme. The tender first love +that was born in her college days and died with them less than a year +later. The love she never could forget or forgive or wholly renounce. +She had called Beebo “Beth” when they first met, and now and then when +passion got the best of her, or whiskey, or nostalgia, Beth’s name would +come to her lips like an old song. Beebo had grown to hate it. It was +the only rival she knew for certain she had and it put her in the +unreasonable position of being helplessly jealous of a girl she didn’t +know and never would. Whenever she mentioned her, Laura knew there was a +storm coming. + +“If I could only _see_ that goddam girl sometime and know what I was up +against!” she would shout, and Laura would have to pacify her one way or +another. She would have to protest that after all, it was all over, Beth +was married, and Beth had never even loved her. Not really. But when +Laura grew the most unhappy with Beebo, the most restless and +frustrated, she would start to call her Beth again when they made love. +So Beebo feared the name as much as she disliked it. It was an evil omen +in her life, as it was a love theme in Laura’s. + +Laura turned back to face Beebo now, nervous and tensed for a fight. +“Beebo, darling—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” + +“Sure, I know. _Darling._” She lampooned Laura’s soothing love word +sarcastically. “You just pick that name out of a hat. For some screwy +reason it just happens to be the same name all the time.” + +“If you’re going to be like that I won’t apologize next time.” + +“_Next_ time! Are you planning on next time already? God!” + +“Beebo, you know that’s all over—” + +“I swear, Laura, sometimes I think you must have a girl somewhere.” +Laura gasped indignantly, but Beebo went on, “I do! You talk about Beth, +Beth, Beth so much I’m beginning to think she’s real. She’s my demon. +She lives around the corner on Seventh Avenue somewhere and you sneak +off and see her in the evenings when I work late. And her husband is +out.” Her voice was sharp and probing, like a needle in the hands of a +nervous nurse. + +“Beebo, I’ve never betrayed you! Never!” + +Beebo didn’t really believe she had. But Laura had hurt her enough +without betraying her and Beebo, who was not blind, could see that Laura +would not go on forever in beautiful blamelessness. + +“You will,” Beebo said briefly. They were the words of near despair. + +Laura was suddenly full of pity. “Beebo, don’t _make_ me hurt you,” she +begged. She got on her knees and bent over Beebo. “I swear I’ve never +touched another girl while we’ve lived together, and I never will.” + +“You mean when you stumble on a tempting female one of these days you’ll +just move out. You can always say, ‘I never cheated on Beebo while we +lived together. I just got the hell out when I had a chance.’” + +“Beebo, damn you, you’re impossible! _You’re_ the one who’s saying all +this! I don’t want to cheat, I don’t want to hurt you, I _hate_ these +ugly scenes!” She began to weep while she talked. “God, if you’re going +to accuse me of something, accuse me of something real. Sometimes I +think you’re getting a little crazy.” + +Beebo clasped her around the waist then, her strong fingers digging +painfully into Laura’s smooth flesh, and sobbed. They were hard sobs, +painful as if each one were twisting her throat. + +“Forgive me, forgive me,” she groaned. “Why do I do it? _Why?_ Laura, my +darling, my only love, tell me just once—you aren’t in love with anybody +else, are you?” + +“No!” said Laura with the force of truth, resenting Beebo’s arms around +her. She wanted to comfort her, yet she feared that Beebo would pounce +on the gesture as a proof of love and force her into more love-making. +Her hands rested awkwardly on Beebo’s shoulders. + +“If you ever fall for anybody, Bo-peep, tell me. Tell me first, don’t +spare me. Don’t wait till the breach is too wide to heal. Give me a +chance. Let me know who it is, let me know how it happened. Don’t keep +me wondering and agonizing over it. Anything would be better than lies +and wondering. Promise you’ll tell me. _Promise_, love.” + +She looked up at Laura now, shaking her so hard that Laura gasped. +“Promise!” she said fiercely. + +“All right,” Laura whispered, afraid of her. + +“Say it.” + +“I promise—to tell you—if I—oh, Beebo, please—” + +“Go on, damn you!” + +“If I ever fall—for somebody else.” Her voice was almost too weak to +hear. + +Beebo released her then and they both fell back on the bed, worn out. +For a long time they lay awake, but neither would make a move toward the +other or utter a word. + + * * * * * + +The next day Beebo awoke feeling that they had come closer to the edge +of breaking up than ever before, and she could feel herself trembling +all over. She got up before Laura was awake and, taking Nix with her +into the kitchen, she poured herself a shot. She was ashamed of this new +little habit she was acquiring. She hadn’t told anybody about it, not +even Jack. Just one drink in the morning. Just one. Never more. It made +her hands steady. It made the day look brighter and not quite so +endless. It made her situation with Laura look hopeful. + +She took the hot and satisfying amber liquid straight, letting it burn +her tight throat and ease her. Then she washed out the shot glass and +returned it to the shelf with the bottle. + +“Nix,” she said softly to the little dog, “I’m a bad girl. Your Beebo is +a wicked bitch, Nix. Do you think anybody cares? Do you think it +matters? What the hell good is it to be a bad little girl if nobody +notices you? What fun is it then? Shall I have another shot, Nix? +Nobody’s looking.” + +He whimpered a little, watching her with puddle-bright eyes, and made +her laugh. “_You_ care, don’t you, little dog?” She leaned down and +picked him up. “You care, anyway. You’re telling me not to be an ass and +let myself in for a lot of trouble. And you’re right. Absolutely.” + +She sat down on a kitchen chair and sighed. “You know, if she loved me, +Nix, I wouldn’t have to do it. You know that, don’t you? Sure you do. +You’re the only one who does. Everybody else thinks I’m just turning +into an old souse. But it’s not true. It’s because of Laura, you know +that as well as I do. She makes me so miserable. She has my life in her +hands, Nix.” She laughed a little. “You know, that’s kind of +frightening. I wish I knew if she was on my side or not.” + +There was a moment when she thought she would cry and she dumped Nix off +her lap and quickly poured herself one more shot. It went down easier +than number one, but she washed the shot glass out as before and put it +and the bottle back on the shelf as if to tell herself: _That’s all, +that’s enough._ + +Beebo turned and smiled at Nix. “Now look at me,” she said. “I’m more +sober than when I’m really sober. My hands have quit shaking. And I’m +not going to quarrel with her when she gets up. I’m going to say +something nice. Come here, dog. Help me think of something.... + +“I’d sell my soul to be an honest-to-god male. I could marry Laura! I +could marry her. Give her my name. Give her kids ... oh, wouldn’t that +be lovely? So lovely....” Jack’s desire for a child didn’t seem +grotesque to her at all any more. + +“But Nix,” she went on, and her face fell, “she wouldn’t have me. My +baby is gay, like me. She wants a woman. Would God she wanted me. But a +woman, all the same. She’d never take a man for a mate.” + +She felt the vile tears sneaking up on her again and shook her head +hard. “She couldn’t take that, Nix. It’d be even worse than—than living +with me.” And she gave a hard laugh. + +Beebo heard the bedroom door open and she dropped Nix and went to the +icebox. Within moments Laura entered the kitchen. + +“’Morning,” she said. + +“Good morning, Madam Queen. What’ll it be?” + +“Soft boiled egg, please. Have to hurry, I’ll be late to work.” She had +a job in a tourist trap over on Greenwich Avenue, where they sold +sandals and earrings and trinkets. + +Beebo busied herself with the eggs and Laura poured orange juice and +opened the paper. She buried herself in it, moving just a little to let +Beebo put her plate down in front of her. Beebo sat down opposite her +and ate in silence for a minute, eating very little. She lighted a +cigarette after a few minutes and sipped cautiously at her hot coffee. + +“Laura?” she said. + +“Hm?” + +“Even in the morning, with your hair up and your nose in the paper and +your eyes looking everywhere but at me ... I love you, Laura.” She said +it slowly, composing it as she went and smiling a little at the effect. +The liquor had loosened her up. + +“What?” said Laura, her eyes following a story and her ears deaf. + +“I have a surprise for you, Bo-peep,” Beebo tried again. + +“Oh. Says here it’s going up to ninety today.... A surprise?” She +lowered the paper a bit to look at Beebo. + +“Um-hm. I didn’t get you an anniversary present. I thought we might get +you a new dress tonight. Stores are open.” + +Laura was embarrassed. It still upset her to have to accept gifts from +Beebo. She felt as if each one was a bid for her love, a sort of +investment Beebo was making in Laura’s good will. It made her resent the +gifts and resist them. And still Beebo came home with things she +couldn’t afford and forced them on Laura and made her almost frantic +between the need to be grateful, the pity she felt, and the exasperation +that was the result of it all. + +“I don’t need a dress, honey,” Laura said. + +“I want you to have one.” + +“God, Beebo, if I bought all the clothes you want me to have we wouldn’t +have money to eat on. We’d be broke. We’d be in hock for everything we +own.” + +“Please, baby. All I want to do is buy you an anniversary present.” + +“Beebo, I—” What could she say? _I don’t want the damn dress?_ + +“I know,” Beebo said abruptly. “I embarrass you. You don’t like to be +seen in the nice stores with me. I look so damn queer. Don’t argue, +Bo-peep, I know it,” she said, waving Laura’s protests to silence. “I’ll +wear a skirt tonight. Okay? I look pretty good in a skirt.” + +It was true that Laura was ashamed to go anywhere out of Greenwich +Village with her.... Beebo, nearly six feet of her, with her hair +cropped short and her strange clothes and her gruff voice. And when she +flirted with the clerks! Laura had been afraid more than once that they +would call the police and drag Beebo off to jail. But it had never +happened. Still, there was always a first time. And if she had a couple +of drinks before they went, Laura wasn’t at all sure she could handle +her. + +“Why don’t you let me find something for myself?” Laura asked, pleading. +“I know you hate to put a skirt on. You don’t have to come. I’ll pick +out something pretty.” But she knew, and so did Beebo, that unless Beebo +went along Laura would buy nothing. She would come home and say, “They +just didn’t have a thing.” And Beebo would have to face the fact that +Laura resented her little tributes. + +So she said, “No, I don’t trust your taste. Besides, I like to see you +try on all the different things.” + + * * * * * + +So it was that Laura met her at Lord and Taylor’s on Fifth Avenue after +work. It had to be a really good store and Beebo had to pay more than +they could afford, or she wasn’t satisfied. Laura anticipated it with +dread, but at least it was better than another awful quarrel. If Beebo +would just be quiet. If she would just keep her eyes—and her hands—off +the cute little clerks in the dress departments. Laura always tried to +find a stolid middle-aged clerk, but the shops seemed to abound in sleek +young ones. + +Still, Beebo, subdued perhaps by her plain black dress and by Laura’s +nervous concern, kept quiet. Laura noticed a little whiskey on her +breath when they met outside the store, but nothing in her behavior +betrayed it. + +“Do I stink?” she had asked, and when Laura wrinkled her nose Beebo took +a mint out and sucked on it. “I won’t disgrace you,” she said. She was +making a real effort. + +They zigzagged around the Avenue, finding nothing that both looked right +and could be had for less than a fortune. At Peck and Peck, near nine +o’clock, Laura said, “Beebo, I’ve had it. This is positively the last +place. I don’t want you to dress me like a damn princess. I’d much +rather have one of those big enamel-ware pots—” + +“Oh, goddamn the pots! Don’t talk to me of pots!” Beebo exclaimed and +Laura answered, “All right, all right, all right!” in a quick irritated +whisper. + +She went up to the first girl she saw, determined to waste as little +time as possible. “Excuse me,” she said. “Could you show me something in +a twelve?” + +The girl turned around and looked at her out of jade green eyes. Laura +stared at her. She was black-haired and her skin was the color of three +parts cream and one part coffee. In such a setting her green eyes were +amazing. There was a tiny red dot between them on her brow, Indian +fashion, but she was dressed in Occidental clothes. She gazed at Laura +with exquisite contempt. + +“Something in a twelve?” she repeated, and her voice had a careful, +educated sort of pronunciation. Laura was enchanted with her, pleased +just to look at her marvelous smooth face. Her skin was incredibly pure +and her color luminous. + +“Yes, please,” Laura said. + +With a light monosyllable, unintelligible to Laura, the girl shrugged at +a row of dresses. “Help yourself,” she said in clipped English. “I +cannot help you.” + +Laura was surprised at her effrontery. “Well, I—I would like a little +help, if you don’t mind,” she said pointedly. + +“Not from me. Go look at the dresses. If you see one you like, buy it.” + +Laura stared at her, her dander up. “You just don’t care if I buy a +dress or not, do you?” she prodded. The girl, who had begun to turn +away, looked back at her in annoyance. + +“Can you think of one good reason why I should?” she asked. + +“You’re a clerk and I’m a customer,” Laura shot back. + +“Thank you for the compliment,” she said icily. “But I am no clerk. And +if I were, I wouldn’t wait on you.” + +It was so royal, so precise, that Laura blushed crimson. “Oh,” she said +in confusion. “Please forgive me. I—I just saw you standing there and +I—” + +“And you took it for granted that I must be a clerk? How flattering.” +She stared at Laura for a minute and then she smiled slightly and turned +away. + +Laura was too interested in her just to let her fade away like that. She +started after her with no idea of what to say, feeling idiotic and yet +fascinated with the girl. She touched her sleeve and that lovely beige +face swiveled toward her, this time plainly irritated. But before either +of them could speak Beebo came toward them. She had a couple of dresses +over one arm and she sauntered up with typical long strides, a cigarette +drooping from one corner of her mouth. Laura saw her coming with a +sinking feeling. + +“I found these, Laura. Try them on,” she said, looking at the Indian +girl. There was a small awkward silence. “Well?” Beebo said suddenly, +smiling at the strange girl. “Friend of yours, Bo-peep?” + +Laura could have slapped her. She hated that pet name. It was bad enough +in private, but in public it was intolerable. + +“No, I—I mistook her for a clerk,” Laura said. Her cheeks were still +glowing and the girl looked from her to Beebo and back as if they were +both dangerous. Laura’s hand fell from her arm and she stepped +backwards, still watching them, as if she half-feared they would follow +her. + +“Don’t mind her,” Beebo told her, thumbing at Laura. “She thinks her +best friends are clerks. She’s just being friendly.” Laura heard the +edge in her voice and became uneasy. + +But the Indian girl, if she was an Indian girl, unexpectedly relented a +little and smiled. “It’s all right,” she said. She looked at Laura. “I’m +not a clerk,” she said. “I’m a dancer.” + +“Oh!” Suddenly an unwelcome little thrill flew through Laura. She +couldn’t have explained it logically. The girl was very demure and +distant. But she was also very lovely, and Laura had a brief vision of +all that creamy tan skin unveiled and undulating to the rhythm of +muffled gongs and bells and wailing reeds. + +She must have looked incredulous for the girl said suddenly, “I can +prove it.” + +“Oh, no! No, that’s all right,” Laura protested, but the girl handed her +a little card with a name printed on it, and Laura took it eagerly. “I +did not mean I would demonstrate,” the girl said carefully. + +Beebo laughed. “Go ahead,” she said. “We’re dance lovers. I don’t think +Laura’d mind a bit, would you, baby?” She was mad at Laura for flirting +and Laura knew it. + +The little card read, _Tris Robischon_ and underneath, _Dance Studio_ +and an address in the Village. “I just didn’t want you to think I was +lying,” the girl said, somewhat haughtily. And before Laura or Beebo +could answer her she turned and left them standing, staring after her. + +Beebo turned to frown at Laura. “You made a hit, it seems,” she said +acidly. “Let’s see her card.” She snatched it from Laura’s reluctant +fingers. + +“Take it. I don’t want it!” Laura said angrily, for she did want it very +much. She turned away sharply, giving her attention to a row of dresses, +but she knew Beebo wouldn’t let her off the hook so easily. There would +be more nastiness and soon. + +“You got her name out of her, at least. Pretty smooth.” Beebo’s voice +was hard and hurt. “Tris Robischon. Doesn’t sound very Indian to me.” + +“How would you know, swami?” Laura snapped. “If you throw a jealous +scene in here I’ll leave you tonight and I’ll never come back, I’m +warning you!” she added in a furious hiss, and Beebo glared at her. But +she didn’t answer. + +Finally Laura dragged some dresses off the rack and turned to her. “I’ll +try these,” she said. Beebo followed her to the dressing room and +watched her change into one and then another in angry silence. + +At last Laura burst out, “I didn’t ask her for the damn card. I don’t +know _why_ she gave it to me.” + +“It’s obvious. You’re irresistible.” + +Laura took two handfuls of Beebo’s hair and shook her head till Beebo +stopped her roughly and forced her to her knees. Fury paralyzed them +both for a moment and they stared at each other helplessly, trembling. + +Laura wanted that card. She wanted it enough to soften suddenly and play +games for it. “Beebo, be gentle with me,” she pleaded, her tense body +relaxing. “Don’t hurt me,” she whispered. “I don’t know who the girl is +and I don’t care.” + +Beebo stared at her suspiciously till Laura reminded her, “We came to +get a dress, remember? Let’s not spoil it. Please, Beebo.” + +Beebo released her and sat staring at the floor. Laura tried on dresses +for her, but Beebo wouldn’t look at them. No tender words, no coaxing, +no teasing that would have been so welcome any other time worked with +her tonight. When Beebo got jealous she was a bitch—irrational, +unreasonable, unkind. + +“I’m going to take this one,” Laura said finally, a little desperate. +“Whether you like it or not.” + +Beebo looked up slowly. “I like it,” she said flatly, but she would have +said, “I hate it,” in the same voice. + +Laura went over to her and took her face in both hands, stooped down, +and kissed her petulant mouth. “Beebo,” she murmured. “You love me. Act +like it.” It was so foolishly selfish, so unexpected, and so almost +affectionate that it was funny, and Beebo smiled wryly at her. She took +Laura’s shoulders and pulled her down for another kiss just as a clerk—a +genuine clerk—stuck her face in and said, “Need any help in here?” + +“No thanks!” Laura blurted, looking up in alarm. Beebo put her head back +and laughed and the clerk stared, pop-eyed. Then she shut the door and +sped away. Beebo stood up and swept Laura into her arms and kissed her +over and over, all over her face and shoulders and ears and throat until +Laura had to beg her to stop. “Let’s get out of here before that clerk +makes trouble!” she implored. + +When they left the dressing room Laura noticed that Beebo had put Tris +Robischon’s card in the sand pail for cigarettes. It stuck out like a +little white flag. Laura risked her purse—with $15.87, all they had for +the next week—to get the card back. She left the purse on the chair as +she followed Beebo out. And so it was that she was able to make an +excuse to go back and retrieve them both, purse and card, while Beebo +paid for the dress. + + + + + 3 + + +_It’s an awful thing about Jack_, Laura wrote in her diary, sitting on +the floor by the closet door. _Such a nice guy, so bright and so—this +will sound corny—so _fine_. But ever since Terry left him he’s been a +little crazy. I was really afraid of how much he was drinking until +tonight when we had a beer at Julian’s. Or rather, I had a beer. Jack’s +on the wagon. Maybe that will straighten him out. _If_ he can stick with +it. If he’d been straight I think he would have done something wonderful +with his life. But is it fair to blame the failures on homosexuality? Is +it, really? I’m selling junk here in the Village because Beebo wants me +near her. She runs an elevator so she can wear pants all day. And Jack’s +a draughtsman so he can be in an office full of virile engineers. What’s +the matter with us? We don’t _have_ to spend our lives doing it. So why +do we?_ + +She had asked Jack the same question at Julian’s little bar just off +Seventh Avenue, earlier that evening. “Why do we do it, Jack? Throw our +lives away?” she said. + +“We like to,” he shrugged. “We all have martyr complexes.” + +“We give away the best part of ourselves—our youth and our health are +all just given away. Free.” + +“What sort of profit did you expect to make on them?” he said. “You want +to get paid for being young and healthy?” + +Laura glared at him. “That’s not what I mean—” + +“If you’re not giving, you’re not living, doll,” he said. “I quote the +sob columns. Give yourself away, what the hell. What’s youth for? And +health? And beauty, and the rest of it. Keep it and it turns putrid like +everything else. Give it away and at least somebody enjoys it.” + +“Jack, you know damn well I mean _wasting_ it. Wasting it all day long +on costume jewelry or a push-button elevator or a slide rule. God, when +I think of what you—” + +“Don’t think of all the fine things I could have done with my life, +Mother,” he pleaded. “You give me the shudders. I’m not happy, but I’d +be worse off trying to live straight. I like men. My office is full of +them.” + +“You hate your work.” + +“I never have to think about it. Purely mechanical. I just sit there and +flip that little slip stick and I say, ‘Evens, Johnson is straight. +Odds, he’s queer.’ If Johnson is queer on Tuesday—according to the slide +rule—I make it a point to give him a kind word.” + +“Johnson is straight and you know it. Every man in your office is +straight. Why do you torture yourself?” + +“No torture, Mother. When the whole world is black, pretend it’s rosy. +Somewhere, in some little corner. If everybody’s straight, pretend +somebody’s gay.” + +“That’s a short cut to the bug house.” + +“I wouldn’t mind the bug house. If they’d let me keep my slip stick.” He +laughed to himself and leaned over the bar to order. “One whiskey and +water,” he said. + +“How about you, Mann?” Julian asked. + +“Nothing.” + +“Are you on the wagon?” Laura was stunned. When he nodded she said, +“Just a beer for me. I’m drinking too much anyway.” Then she smiled. +“You’ll never last, Jack. You know what you need?” + +“Do I know? Are you serious?” He grinned at her, but it was a pained +smile. + +“You need a real man,” Laura said softly. “Not a bunch of daydreams at +the office. That’s enough to drive anybody nuts. You worry me, Jack.” + +“Good.” He smiled and squeezed her arm. “Now I’ll tell you what I really +need.” He looked at her through his sharp eyes set in that plain face +Laura had come to love and find attractive. “I don’t need a man, Laura,” +he said. “I’m too damn old to run after pretty boys any more. I look +like a middle-aged fool, which is exactly what I am. When Terry left me, +I was through.” + +“Do you still love him? Even after what he did?” + +“I won’t talk about him,” he said simply. “I can’t. But he was the last +one. The end. I want a woman now. I want you, Laura.” He turned away +abruptly, embarrassed, but his hand remained on her arm. + +Laura was touched. “Jack,” she said very gently. “I’m a Lesbian. Even if +you renounce men, I can’t renounce women. I won’t even try.” + +“There was a time when you were willing to try.” + +“That was a million years ago. I wasn’t the same Laura I am now. I said +that before I even met Beebo—when another girl was giving me hell, and I +was new to the game and to New York and so afraid of everything.” + +“So now you know the ropes and you’re absolutely sure you’d rather give +your life away to the goddam tourists and a woman you don’t love than +come and live with a man you do love.” + +“Jack, darling, I love you, but I don’t love you with my body. I love +you with my heart and soul but I could never let you make love to me.” + +“I could never do it, either,” he said quietly. “You’re no gayer than I +am, Laura. If we married it would never be a physical union, you know +that.” Somewhere far back in his mind the sweet shadow of that little +dream child hovered, but he suppressed it, lighting a cigarette quickly. +His fingers shook. + +“If it wasn’t a physical union, what would it be?” Laura asked. “Just +small talk and community property and family-plan fares?” + +He smiled. “Sounds a little empty, doesn’t it?” + +“Jack,” Laura said, speaking with care so as not to hurt him, “you’re +forty-five and life looks a little different to you now. I’m only +twenty-three and I can’t give up my body so casually. I could never make +you promises I couldn’t keep.” + +“I wouldn’t ask that promise of you, Laura,” he said. + +“You mean I could bring girls home? To our home, yours and mine? Any +girls, any time? And it would be all right?” + +“Let’s put it this way,” he said. “If you fell in love with somebody, +I’d be understanding. I’d welcome her to the house, and I’d get the hell +out when you wanted a little privacy. I’d keep strict hands off and just +one shoulder for you to cry on. As long as you really loved her and it +wasn’t cheap or loud or dirty, I’d respect it.” + +He knocked the ashes off the tip of his cigarette thoughtfully. “... +only,” he said, “you’d be my wife. And you’d come home at night and tuck +me in and you’d be there in the morning to see me off.” He sounded so +peculiarly gentle and yearning that she was convinced that he meant it. +But she was not ready to give in. + +Laura smiled at him. “What would there be in all this for you, Jack?” +she said. “Just getting tucked in at night? Is that enough +compensation?” + +“Nobody ever tucked me in before.” He said it with a grin but she sensed +that it was true. + +“And breakfast in the morning?” + +“Wonderful! You don’t know what a difference it would make.” + +“That’s nothing, Jack, compared to what you’d be giving me.” + +“You’d be my wife, Laura, my honest-to-God lawful legal wife. You’d give +me a home. You don’t know what that would mean to me. I’ve been living +in rented rooms since I was out of diapers. You’d give me a place to +rest in and be proud of, and a purpose in life. What the hell good am I +to myself? What use is an aging fag with a letch for hopelessly bored, +hopelessly handsome boys? Christ, I give myself the creeps. I give the +boys the creeps. And you know something? They’re beginning to give _me_ +the creeps. I’m so low I can’t go any place but up. If you’ll say yes.” + +“What if I did? What about Beebo?” Laura said softly, as if the name +might suddenly conjure up her lover, jealous and vengeful. + +“It would solve everything,” he said positively. “She could still see +you, but you wouldn’t be her property any more. It’s bad for her to have +the idea she owns you, but that’s the way she treats you. If you were my +wife she’d have to respect the situation. It would be a kind way to +break with her,” he added slyly. He was feeling too selfish to waste +sympathy on Beebo now. + +Laura thought it over. There was no one she respected more than Jack, +and her love for him, born of gratitude and affection, was real. But it +was not the love of a normal woman for a normal man she felt for him, +and the idea of marrying him frightened her. + +“Do you think, if we married, we could keep our love for each other +intact, Jack?” she asked. + +“Yes,” he said. + +“Even if I were having an affair?” She was thinking at that moment of +Tris Robischon, the lovely, lithe Indian girl. + +“Yes. I told you ‘yes.’” + +Laura finished her beer in silence, gazing into the mirror over the bar +and pondering. She knew she would say no. But she didn’t quite know how. +“I can’t, Jack,” she said at last, in a small voice. + +“Not now, maybe?” He wouldn’t give up. + +“Never.” + +“Never say never, Mother. Say ‘not now’ or something.” + +She did, obediently. But she added, “We’d quarrel and we’d end up +destroying our love for each other.” + +“We’d quarrel, hell yes. I wouldn’t feel properly married if we didn’t.” + +“And there’s always the chance that _you’d_ fall in love. And regret +that you married me.” + +He turned to her with a little smile and shook his head. “Never,” he +said. “And this once it’s the right word.” He took her hands. “Say yes.” + +“No.” + +“Say maybe.” + +“No.” + +“Say you’ll think about it, Laura. Say it, honey.” + +And out of love and reluctance to hurt him, she whispered, “I’ll think +about it.” + + * * * * * + +Laura was walking up Greenwich Avenue, searching for number 251. She had +a small white card in her hand to which she referred occasionally, +although she had memorized the address. It was a hot day, late in the +afternoon, and she had just come from work, wilted and worn and bored. +The idea of going home right away depressed her and she had decided to +walk a little. + +She hadn’t gone two blocks before she was daydreaming of Tris Robischon +and suddenly shivering with the thought of seeing her again. + +Beebo wouldn’t be home until nine o’clock that evening, and Tris’s +studio address was only a short distance from the shop where Laura +worked. All at once she was walking fast. + +She found the address with no trouble at all. In fact it was almost too +easy and before she knew it she was standing in the first floor hallway +of the modest building reading the names on the mail boxes. TRIS +ROBISCHON. There it was. Third floor, Apartment C. Laura climbed the +stairs. + +_What will I say to her!_ she asked herself. _How in God’s name will I +explain this visit? Ask her for a dance lesson? Me?_ She had to smile at +herself. Her long slim legs would never yield to the fluid grace and +discipline of dancing. + +Laura stood uncertainly before the door of Apartment C, a little afraid +to knock. She could hear the sounds of music inside—rather sharp, +tormented music. Laura glanced at the card once again. It had been +almost three weeks since the Indian girl had given it to her. Perhaps +she wouldn’t even remember Laura. It might be embarrassing for them +both. But then Laura envisioned that remarkable face, and she didn’t +care how embarrassed she had to be to see it once again. She knocked. + +There was no response. She knocked again, hard. This time there was a +scampering of feet and the music was abruptly shut off. Laura heard +voices and realized with a sinking feeling that Tris wasn’t alone. + +Suddenly the door swung open. Laura was confronted with a young girl of +twelve or so in a blue leotard. “Yes?” said the little girl. There were +three or four others in the room in attitudes of relaxation, and then +Tris appeared around a corner, wiping her wonderful face on a towel and +coming quickly and smoothly toward the door. It was almost a +self-conscious walk, as if she expected any caller to be a prospective +pupil and had to demonstrate her talent even before she opened her mouth +to speak. + +She stopped behind the young girl and looked up. Laura waited, +speechless and awkward, until Tris smiled at her, without having said a +word. “Come in,” she said. + +“I hope I’m not interrupting a class,” Laura said, hesitating. + +“It does not matter. You are welcome. Please come in.” Laura followed +her into the room and Tris waved her to a seat. It was only a bench, set +in a far corner of the room, but Laura went to it gratefully and sat +there while Tris collected her charges and put them through a +five-minute routine. It looked very pretty to Laura, although the Indian +girl seemed dissatisfied. + +“You can do much better than that for our visitor, girls,” she said in +her dainty English that Laura had nearly forgotten. It was a strange +accent, like none Laura had ever heard; very precise and softly spoken, +but not noticeably British or anything else. Laura puzzled over it, +watching Tris move and demonstrate things to her students. She had on +black tights and a small cotton knit bandeau that covered her breasts +and shoulders but left her long supple midriff exposed. She was the same +luscious tan from waist to bosom, and Laura, sitting there watching her, +was helplessly fascinated by it; almost more by what she could see than +by what she couldn’t. + +Tris gave two sharp claps with her hands suddenly. “That is all for +today, girls,” she said, and they broke up quickly, running into another +room to change their clothes. Tris turned to look at Laura. She simply +looked at her without saying anything, a stare so frank and unabashed +that Laura lowered her eyes in confusion, feeling the red blood come to +her cheeks. + +“What is your name?” Tris asked her then, and Laura answered, surprised, +“Laura.” _Of course, I’d forgotten. She doesn’t even know my name!_ + +Laura looked up to find Tris studying her with a little smile. The girls +began to file past saying goodnight to her. She smiled at one or +another, touched their heads and shoulders, and spoke to some. In +between little girls she watched Laura who felt rather like a specimen +on exhibit. + +The studio was bare except for the bench, a record player next to it on +the floor by Laura’s feet, and mirrors. The mirrors were everywhere, +long and short, all over the walls. Most gave a full view of you to +yourself. The room where the children dressed was furnished as a +bedroom. Laura could see parts of it, and there were more mirrors in +there. There was a swinging door, shut now, which apparently led to a +kitchen. Laura gazed around her, trying to appear interested in it, so +she wouldn’t have to look at Tris. + +The front door shut finally, rather conspicuously, and a small silence +fell. They were alone. + +“You like my little studio, then?” said Tris. + +Laura dared to look at her then and found that the last child was +certainly gone and the studio was empty. Awfully empty. + +“Yes, I like it,” she said. She felt the need to excuse her presence and +she began hurriedly, “I hope you won’t think I—” + +But Tris never let her finish. “Shall I dance for you?” she said +suddenly with such a luminous smile that Laura felt her whole body go +warm with appreciation. She returned the smile. “Yes, please. If you +would.” + +Tris walked to the record changer beside Laura, knelt, and slipped a +record into place. Then she looked up at Laura, her eyes larger and +greener than Laura remembered, and infinitely lovelier seen so close. +She waited there, looking at her visitor, until the music began to flow. +It was not harsh like the music Laura had heard through the door, but +languid and rhythmical, perhaps even sentimental. + +Tris began to move so slowly at first that Laura was hardly aware that +she was dancing. Her arms, long and tender and graceful, began to ripple +subtly toward Laura, and then her head and body began to sway, and +finally her strong legs, deceptively slim, moved under her and brought +her, whirling slowly, to her feet. + +It was a strange dance that flowed and undulated. This marvelous body +seemed to float and then to sink like mist, and at one point Laura had +to shut her eyes for a minute, too thrilled to bear it. She wanted +terribly to reach out, put her hands on Tris’s hips, and feel the rhythm +move through her own body. + +The music stopped. Tris stood poised over Laura, looking down at her, +and for a moment she remained there, balanced delicately and smiling. +Laura felt a familiar surge of desire and she watched Tris like a cat +watching a twitching string, ready to pounce if Tris made a sudden move. +And yet afraid Tris might touch her and startle her passion into the +open. + +But Tris relaxed as the needle began its monotonous scratch, and she +turned off the machine. She sat on the floor then, grasping her +black-sheathed knees in her arms, one hand holding the wrist of the +other. + +“Did you like it?” she said, glancing up, and she seemed for a moment to +be unsure and distant, as she had been in the dress shop. + +“I thought it was wonderful,” Laura said, herself a little shy. “I +didn’t know dancing could be like that.” + +“Like what?” Tris demanded suspiciously. + +“Well—like—I don’t know. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen ... as if +you were floating. It was beautiful.” + +Tris softened a little. “Thank you, Laura,” she said. And Laura felt a +wild confusion of delight at the sound of her own name. “I dance very +well,” Tris went on oddly. “There is no point in false modesty. I hate +that sort of thing, don’t you? It’s so hypocritical. If you dance well, +or do anything else well, say so. Be frank. I think men like a girl who +is frank. Don’t you?” + +Laura was taken aback. “Oh, yes,” she affirmed quickly. But she stared. +_She can’t be straight!_ she thought to herself, in a sudden agony of +doubt. From the first she had taken it for granted that the lovely +Indian girl was a Lesbian. It seemed so right, perhaps only because +Laura wanted it that way. And too, Laura always prided herself on being +able to tell if a girl were homosexual or not. She was sick at the +thought that Tris might love men. + +Tris watched her, interested. “What are you thinking of?” she said. + +“Nothing,” Laura protested uneasily. + +“All right. I will not pry.” Tris smiled. “Will you have some tea with +me?” + +“Thank you.” Laura was glad to ease the tension a little. Tris got up +and she followed her through the swinging door into the kitchen. + +Tris made the tea while Laura watched her in a rapture of pleasure. “You +moved so beautifully,” she blurted, and then blushed. “I—I mean, it +shows in all your movements. Dancing, or walking, or just getting down +the teacups.” She laughed. “I feel like a clumsy ox, watching you.” + +“You are wrong,” Tris said. “I have been watching you, too. You move +well, Laura. You could learn to dance. Would you like to learn?” + +Laura looked away, confused and delighted but scared. “I’d be your worst +pupil,” she said. + +“I find that hard to believe.” + +“It’s—probably very expensive.” + +“For you ...,” Tris shrugged and smiled, “nothing,” she said. + +Laura turned to look at her, surprised. “Nothing?” she repeated. + +“Or perhaps your friend ... the big one,” Tris added softly. “Perhaps +she would be interested?” + +“Beebo?” Laura exclaimed. “Oh God no!” + +Tris handed her a cup quickly, as if to make her forget the suggestion. +“Do you like me, Laura?” she said, her green eyes too close and her +sweet skin redolent of jasmine. + +“Yes, Tris,” Laura said, saying her name for the first time and feeling +the fine shivering return to her limbs. + +“Good.” Tris grinned at her. “That is payment enough.” Laura felt +suddenly like she had better sit down or she would fall down. “You say +my name now, that means you feel closer to me, hm?” Tris asked. + +“Yes. A little.” Laura gazed at her, completely confused, afraid to +move, until Tris gave a little laugh. + +“Come, we’ll sit in the other room,” she said, and Laura once again +followed her across the bare studio into the bedroom. + +The room was fitted up Indian fashion with rich red silk drapes on the +bed. The bed itself was actually more of a low couch, very capacious, +and covered with tumbled silk cushions. There were books and records +scattered around, a couple of pillows on the floor to take the place of +chairs, and a number of ashtrays. + +“This is my bedroom, my living room, my den, my playroom—whatever you +want,” Tris said smiling, and sat down on the bed. “Come, don’t stand +there looking afraid of me,” she said, “sit down.” And she patted the +bed beside her. + +Laura came and sat there and as she did Tris lay back on the cushions +and watched her. She put her tea on the floor while Laura held hers +carefully, anxious about spilling it on the lush red silk. + +“Are you—are you Indian, Tris?” she asked awkwardly, turning to look at +her. + +Tris crossed her black-sheathed legs. “Yes,” she said. “Half Indian, at +least. My mother was Indian but my father was French.” + +“Did you grow up in India?” + +“Yes. In New Delhi. Have you been there?” Her clear eyes looked sharply +at Laura. + +“No. I’ve never been anywhere,” Laura said. “Except New York and +Chicago. I was born in Chicago.” + +“Is your family there?” + +“Just my father. He’s all the family I have.” + +“Do you see him often?” + +“I never see him.” She looked away, suddenly overwhelmed with the +thought of her father. She had not seen him for two years. Not since she +had gone to live with Beebo and admitted to him that she was a Lesbian. +There had been a terrible scene. And then Laura had fled and Merrill +Landon, for all she knew, had gone back to Chicago. + +“Is that where your roommate is from? Chicago?” Tris asked slowly. + +“No. Milwaukee.” Laura turned to frown at her and Tris, sensing her +reticence, changed the subject. “Would you like to see my scrapbook?” +she said. Before Laura could answer she was off the bed and searching +for it among some books and papers across the room. She came back and +sat next to Laura, spreading the green leather book open over their +knees and putting an arm around Laura’s waist. + +“These were all taken six months ago,” she said. “This boy is German. +Isn’t he handsome? I love blond hair. He’s wonderful looking.” + +He was indeed. Jack would have appreciated the view more than Laura, for +he was young and muscular and nearly naked. His body had been oiled so +that every smooth ripple on arms and back and tight hips and long legs +was highlighted. He had a shock of rich blond hair and particularly +handsome features, and he was shown in a number of poses: some that +looked like Muscle Beach shots and others that seemed like dance +positions. + +“He does dance,” Tris said, anticipating Laura’s question. “With me. +He’s named Paul Cate. We have a lot of routines together. We are a sort +of—_team_.” + +“Are you engaged?” Laura asked. It sounded ridiculous once it was said, +but she found herself unreasonably jealous of the boy. + +Tris threw her head back and laughed. “Engaged!” she exclaimed. “He is a +homosexual, Laura.” + +“A homosexual?” It sounded like fake innocence, even to Laura. + +But Tris was too amused to notice. “Yes, of course,” she said, still +laughing. “Can you imagine two homosexuals getting married? Could +anything be sillier? What would they do with each other?” And her +laughter was too hard. + +Laura was shocked at her crude dismissal of the possibility of a +homosexual marriage, which made her feel instantly protective and tender +about Jack. But she had said, “Two homosexuals,” and Laura’s heart rose. +“Are you gay, Tris?” she asked, almost in a whisper, afraid to look at +her. + +“Not really.” Tris flipped the words at her casually, turning pages in +the scrapbook and concentrating on them. Laura sensed embarrassment in +her concentration. + +“Either you are or you aren’t,” Laura said, more boldly. + +“Then I’m not,” said Tris and startled her visitor. “If you force me to +choose between black and white, I’m white,” she explained, and Laura +thought she heard a double emphasis on the word “white.” “I like men. +More than women.” Laura was cowed into bewildered silence. + +There were many enticing photographs of Tris. “The photographer is a +friend of mine,” she told Laura with a smile. “He always makes me look +good.” There was a series of her with the German boy, in dance poses. +Tris was so lovely that Laura felt the gooseflesh rise up on her with +Tris’s breathing in her ear and her warmth touching Laura’s arms. + +“You would think we were madly in love,” Tris said with a little laugh. +“Oh, look at this one. This is my former husband.” + +Laura did look, hard. “You were married?” she said, unwilling to believe +it. + +“Yes. To him. He is handsome, no?” + +“Yes.” He was pictured lying on his side, very much of a young athlete, +with curly hair and an honest sort of face, a little like Jack’s +long-lost Terry. He looked Irish. “Was he gay, Tris?” + +“Yes,” she said and the annoyance was plain in her voice. “It was an +ugly mistake. We hated each other after we got married. Before that, we +were the best of friends. So you see, I know what I am saying when I +tell you gay marriages are hell.” + +Laura considered this in silence while Tris turned pages. + +“Have some dinner with me,” Tris said, piling the pictures on the floor +at the foot of the bed. + +Laura looked at her watch. It was only seven. Beebo wouldn’t be home for +another two hours. + +“I never cook,” Tris said, going across the room to pick up the phone. +She began to order sandwiches, glancing at Laura for suggestions. “They +bring them up from the corner shop,” she said when she hung up. Laura +looked up at her from her seat on the bed, and Tris began to move +slowly, undulating, as if she were musing on a dance. + +“Where did you learn to dance, Tris?” Laura asked her. + +“England. Where do you live?” + +“Cordelia Street. One-twenty-nine.” + +“With the big one? What did you say her name is?” + +Laura felt uncomfortable at the mention of her lover, and resentful of +Tris’s curiosity about her. “Her name is Beebo,” she said rather +sullenly. + +“Oh, yes—Beebo!” Tris laughed. “It almost sounds Indian,” she said. “Is +she nice?” + +Laura shrugged. “I guess she is.” + +“You aren’t sure, hm?” Tris seemed amused. “Are you in love with her?” + +Laura was reluctant to say no, but determined not to say yes. “I—I was,” +she admitted finally. + +“It is all over, then?” + +Laura didn’t like her bright-eyed interest. “We still live together,” +she said defensively. + +“Does she still love you?” + +“Yes. Yes, she does,” Laura said sharply, looking Tris square in the +eye. + +“I’m sorry,” Tris said softly, her gaze dropping. “I shouldn’t pry.” + +“There are better things to talk about than Beebo,” Laura said. + +The food came and they were both relieved to turn to something else. + +When the food was gone a quiet little interlude fell when Tris simply +sat on the bed and watched Laura and Laura wandered idly around the +room. + +There was a terrible growing excitement in Laura. She felt she must run, +escape somehow, get out of the studio before she made a fool of herself +and an enemy of Tris. She turned at last and looked down at Tris. There +was only one lamp lit in the room, and in the pale pink light Tris +looked even riper and lovelier than she did in bright daylight. + +“Tris, I—I have to go,” Laura said. “It’s getting late. I had a lovely +time....” + +“Then why go?” + +“I must. I shouldn’t have come, really.” + +“Will Beebo be angry with you?” + +“She isn’t home yet.” + +“Then you don’t have to go yet. I’ll bet she has a fine temper.” She +waited for an answer, but Laura ignored her remark. She was thinking +only of the possibility of staying longer. Her heart fluttered with the +temptation. She was afraid of Beebo and yet, in another way, even more +afraid of Tris. + +“Come sit beside me,” Tris urged her, whispering. And Laura, unable to +refuse her, came slowly toward the bed, as if she were in a trance, and +sat down. Tris leaned back into the pillows, her hand on Laura’s arm, +and pulled Laura after her. + +Laura lay on her back next to Tris for a while, breathing softly, +nervously aware of the sound of her breath. She held herself in as if +she expected to explode. She was tense and the sweat rolled down her +body, and yet she was happy, very happy. + +They lay that way for some time, silent, gazing at the ceiling, neither +one speaking, yet neither able to relax. At last Tris took Laura’s hand +in her own warm brown one and said, “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you, +Laura?” + +There was a slight pause, almost a panic, while Laura tried to collect +herself. “Yes,” she mumbled at last. + +“Why?” + +“You’re so beautiful....” Laura fumbled. + +“Does beauty frighten you?” + +“Yes. I don’t know why. Maybe because I never had it.” + +Tris chuckled, a sweet throaty sound, and said, “Who ever told you +that?” And it occurred to Laura, strangely, that Tris spoke without any +accent at all. It sounded clear and plain, like Laura’s own English. But +it was only a quick impression and it passed. She thought Tris was +teasing her, imitating her. + +“Don’t kid me,” she said. + +“Take your hair down, Laura,” Tris said, her fingers playing with the +prim bun at the back of Laura’s head. Her hair had grown so long—Beebo +wouldn’t let her cut it—that she was obliged to roll it up one way or +another in the back. It hung nearly to her waist when it was loose. She +took the pins out of it now, raising herself on one elbow to accomplish +the job. Tris helped her and the roll of hair came free suddenly and +fell around Laura’s shoulders like silk streamers, pale gold and +scented. Tris took a handful of it, pressing it to her face. + +“How lovely!” she exclaimed. “Lovely blond hair....” + +She put her hands on Laura’s shoulders and pushed her down into the +pillows, bending over her to study her face. “I think you’re very +pretty,” she said, and made Laura smile. + +“I don’t believe you,” she said. + +“I’ll bet Beebo thinks you’re very pretty, too.” + +“Please, Tris. Let’s not talk about Beebo.” + +Tris leaned down and kissed her forehead very softly. “Now do you +believe me?” she asked. + +Laura stared at her, her heart suddenly pounding. “No,” she said in a +whisper. + +Tris kissed her cheeks, so lightly that Laura could hardly feel it. +“Now?” she said. + +“No,” Laura breathed. + +And Tris kissed her lips. Laura lay beneath her, too thrilled to move, +only letting the lovely shock flow through her body and closing her eyes +to feel it better. At last Tris moved away—only a breath away—and she +said, “Now?” + +“Tris ...” she murmured and all the melody of suppressed passion sang in +the name. Her hands went up to Tris’s bare arms, over the bandeau and +down that silky midriff, and then they went around Tris’s waist and +pulled her close and kissed her. + +It was a long kiss, so leisurely, so lovely, that Laura never wanted it +to end. And when it did she followed Tris, laughing, all over the bed, +kissing her wherever she could reach her, feeling Tris’s fine body move +beneath her hands and the fire of her own longing bursting in her bosom. + +Suddenly Tris got off the bed and stood looking at Laura and trying to +catch her breath. “No,” she said. “No! That’s enough! It’s late.” + +Laura stared at her, amazed. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Tris, come +here. Come to me. Don’t do this to me. Tris!” + +But Tris pulled her off the bed with sudden strength. + +“Tris, it’s only nine-thirty,” Laura said. + +“Nine-thirty? Is it that late? Laura, you must excuse me.” She was +transformed. All the play and warmth had gone out of her. + +“But—” Laura began, but Tris interrupted sharply, “Time for you to go +home to Beebo.” There was no smile on her face. + +Laura looked at her incredulously a minute longer, her cheeks burning, +and then she smoothed her clothes out with lowered eyes. She was too +proud and too hurt to speak. She walked noiselessly to one of the +mirrors, taking her purse with her, and ran a comb through her long +hair. + +She stared at herself—her flushed face and trembling fingers, her body +so ready for love only moments ago and now weak with denial and outraged +nerves. Two feet of unpinned hair hung down her back to remind her of +Tris’s admiration. But it would take five minutes to get it up again +properly. + +Laura looked into the mirror over her own shoulder at Tris, who was +standing on one foot and then the other, bent forward slightly and +obviously waiting for Laura to get out of her way. What secret +activities would occupy her as soon as she got rid of Laura? Her +impatience was audible in her sharp breathing. Laura dared not risk her +displeasure by taking the time to wind up her hair. She simply turned +and walked out of the bedroom without a backward glance, without a word. + +At the front door her heart jumped when Tris called after her. Laura +turned to find her running lightly across the bare studio and she +waited, holding her feelings in warily. + +Tris stopped at the door. “I’m sorry,” she said self-consciously. “I +didn’t know it was so late. I have something to do tonight, it slipped +my mind.” + +Laura looked at her haughtily. “Goodnight, Tris,” was all she said. When +she turned to walk down the stairs Tris added, “Say hello to your +bad-tempered roommate for me.” + +Incensed, Laura almost ran out the door below. + + + + + 4 + + +Laura walked home as full of hope as of frustration and anger. Tris had +treated her badly but she had treated her beautifully too. With a little +start of alarm, Laura knew she was falling in love. Maybe it was worse +than that already. + +It was a dark soft night with no moon, only the dozens of quiet yellow +streetlights. Her heels rang against the cement sidewalk as she turned +down Cordelia Street and she left the world outside with regret when she +opened her apartment door. + +She knew Beebo would be there by now. _If she’s only not drunk_, she +thought to herself. “Beebo?” she called aloud. She heard a little groan +from the bedroom and went toward it with a sinking feeling. _She +couldn’t be drunk already. She’d only been home forty-five minutes. +Unless she cut work again. God forbid!_ + +Laura walked across the living room slowly, in no hurry to face the +argument that would result if Beebo was full of whiskey and had been +sitting there fuming because Laura was late. Beebo would have been +phoning all over the neighborhood for her—a practice Laura abhorred but +couldn’t break her of. She touched her long loose hair nervously, +wondering what Beebo would say when she saw it. + +Laura pushed open the bedroom door. The first thing she saw was Nix—Nix, +lying on the floor with his belly slit open from jaws to tail. Beside +him was a crimson chef’s knife. Laura recognized it from the kitchen. + +She stared at him for a full ten seconds in a paralysis of horror. Then +she screamed with a force she had never suspected in herself. She turned +back to the wall with her hands over her face and sobbed with all her +strength. And while her face was hidden she heard another groan and knew +it was Beebo, and she was too terrified even to open her eyes and look. + +“Beebo?” she whispered, and her voice was rough with fear. “Beebo?” + +Another sickening groan, and suddenly Beebo’s voice saying confusedly, +“Laura? Baby, where are you? Laura....” It faded out and Laura brought +her hands away from her face quickly and looked around the room, +carefully avoiding Nix. Beebo was on the bed. + +Her clothes were torn—what few she still had on. Her shirt was in shreds +and the jacket appeared to be ripped down the back, though she was lying +on most of it and Laura couldn’t be sure. She had nothing on from the +waist down and there were several ugly bruises on her body. Laura felt +nausea well in her. Beebo’s face was not so badly hurt. There was a cut +over one eye that was beginning to swell but that seemed to be all. +Laura clapped her hands over her mouth and stood weaving by the bed, +afraid to leave and afraid to stay, feeling the sandwiches she had just +shared with Tris like a load of poison in her stomach. Until Beebo +opened her eyes and looked at her. + +“Laura!” she said, with such passionate relief that Laura went to her +instantly and threw her arms around her and wept. + +She could feel Beebo’s tears on her face and she hugged her tight in a +frenzy of sympathy and sorrow and whispered over and over, “Beebo, +darling. Beebo, darling.” + +It was a long time before either of them made sense; a long time before +either could speak. Laura finally raised herself on one elbow so she +could see Beebo better. + +“What’s the matter with me?” she said softly. “I should be taking care +of you. Crying isn’t going to do you any good.” She started to get up +but Beebo caught her, and Laura was heartened to feel the strength in +her arms. + +“Stay with me, baby,” she said, almost fiercely. + +“Let me clean you up, Beebo. Let me make you comfortable. Please, +sweetheart.” + +“Laura, I don’t need anything but you. Just let me feel you lying beside +me and I’ll get over it somehow. I won’t lose my mind. If you’ll just +stay with me. Please.” + +There were tears in her voice and rather than make her more miserable, +Laura obeyed. She put her arms around Beebo and cuddled against her in a +way she had almost forgotten. + +“Beebo, can you talk about it, darling? Can you tell me what happened?” + +“Not now. Not yet.” + +“I think you ought to see a doctor. You’ve got some awful-looking +bruises.” + +“You’re my doctor.” + +“Beebo, I’m scared. I don’t even know what happened to you. I want to +call a doctor,” she said urgently. + +“I don’t _need_ a doctor,” Beebo declared. + +“Please tell me what happened,” Laura pleaded. She lay at the edge of +the bed, her face away from the floor and the grisly spectacle of the +little dog she had never liked very well and now felt such a horrified +pity for. + +“It’s an old story,” Beebo said, her voice tired and bitter, but +curiously resigned. “I don’t know why it didn’t happen to me years +sooner. Nearly every butch I know gets it one way or another. Sooner or +later they catch up with you.” + +“Who catches up with you?” + +“The goddam sonofabitch toughs who think it’s smart to pick fights with +Lesbians. They ask you who the hell do you think you are, going around +in pants all the time. They say if you’re going to wear pants and act +like a man you can damn well fight like a man. And they jump you for +laughs.... God.” + +Her hand went up to her face which was contorted with remembered pain +and fury. After a silence of several minutes while she composed herself +a little she resumed briefly, “So they jumped me. They followed me home, +hollering all the way. I hollered back. I—I was pretty tight and it was +pretty noisy. I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have brought +them here, but I knew you wouldn’t be home so soon.... I didn’t work +today, baby.” She said it guiltily, and Laura knew it meant she had +spent the day at Julian’s or the Cellar or one of the other homosexual +bars. But she didn’t condemn her or shout, “You’ll lose your job!” as +she would have another time. She only listened in silence. + +“So anyway,” Beebo said, after an awkward pause, “I came home early. +About four-thirty, I guess. They just followed me in. Oh, I got in the +apartment all right and slammed the door and locked it. But one of them +came up the fire escape and he let the others in. Gave me this.” She +pointed to the cut under her eye, and Laura kissed it. “I thought I’d +gotten rid of them, baby, but those bastards followed me right up here +and tried to prove what men they are.” She spat the words out as if they +had a bad taste and then she stopped, looking at Laura to see how she +was taking it. And Laura, lying next to her and holding her tight, was +overwhelmed with helpless anger and pity and even a sort of love for +Beebo. + +Beebo felt Laura clinging to her and the flow of sympathy warmed and +encouraged her. Finally she said, softly, as if the whole thing had been +her fault and she was ashamed of it, “I’m not a virgin any more, Laura. +Don’t ever let a man touch you.” She said it vehemently, her fingers +digging into the submissive girl at her side and her hurt face turned to +Laura’s. Laura let out a little sob and pulled closer to her. + +“Beebo, darling,” she said in a broken voice, “I can’t stand to think of +it. I can’t stand to think of how it must have hurt. I know I’m a +coward, I can’t help it.” And then, in her anxiety to heal the bitter +misery of it, she blurted, “I love you, Beebo.” + +Beebo pulled her very close and lifted her face and kissed it +delicately, almost reverently, for a very long time. At last she +whispered, her lips against Laura’s lips, “I adore you, Laura. You’re my +life. Stay with me, stay with me, don’t ever leave me. I can stand this, +I can stand anything, if you’re with me. Swear you’ll stay with me, +darling.” + +Laura’s voice stuck in her throat. She couldn’t refuse. And yet she knew +full well she would be swearing to a lie. It made her hide her face in +painful indecision for a moment. + +“Swear,” Beebo demanded imperiously. “Swear, Laura!” + +“I swear,” Laura sobbed. She felt Beebo relax then with a sigh, running +her hands through Laura’s hair. + +Beebo gave a faint little laugh. “I never thought anything so rotten +ugly could have a good side,” she murmured. “But if it’s brought us back +together, I’m glad it happened. It was worth it.” + +Laura was shocked. Beebo sounded a little unbalanced. “You can’t be +grateful for anything that horrible, Beebo,” she protested. “You +_can’t_, not if you’re in your right mind.” + +“You can if you’re as much in love as I am!” Beebo said, looking at her. +Laura was shamed into silence. + +After a little while, Laura raised herself on an elbow. “Beebo, I’m +going to call a doctor.” + +“You’re going to do no such goddam silly thing.” + +Laura lost her patience. “Now you listen to me, you stubborn idiot!” she +exclaimed. “You’ve been badly hurt. It’s just madness not to have +medical help, Beebo. You know that as well as I do. Don’t argue with +me!” She cut Beebo off as she was about to protest. “Besides,” Laura +went on, “you might want to prosecute them. How could you prove anything +without medical evidence?” + +“_Prosecute?_” Beebo stared at her and then she gave a short, sharp +laugh. “Are you kidding? Who’s going to mourn for the lost virtue of a +Lesbian? What lawyer is going to make a case for a poor queer gone +wrong? Everybody will think I got what I deserved.” + +Laura stared at her, disbelieving. “Beebo,” she said finally, as if she +were explaining a simple fact to a slow beginner, “you don’t go into +court and say, ‘I am a Lesbian.’ You don’t go to a lawyer and say it. +You don’t say it to _anybody_, you nut! You say, ‘I’m a poor innocent +girl and I was criminally assaulted and hurt and raped and I have +medical proof of it and I can identify the man who did it!’” + +Beebo turned on her side and laughed, and her laughter made Laura want +to weep. “Not man, Bo-peep,” she said when she got her breath. “_Men._ +Bastards, every last one. There were four of them.” + +Laura moaned, an involuntary sound of revulsion. + +“No thanks, baby,” Beebo said, her voice suddenly tired. “I’ve got +enough trouble in the world without advertising that I’m gay. I always +knew this would happen and I always knew what I’d do about it ... just +exactly nothing. Because there’s nothing I _can_ do. It’s part of the +crazy life I live. A sort of occupational hazard, you might say.” + +Laura pleaded with her. “I just want to be sure they didn’t do you some +awful harm you don’t know about, darling!” she said. “I’m no doctor, I +can’t give you anything but bandaids and sponge baths and love.” + +“That’s all in the world I want, baby,” Beebo smiled. “I’ll get well in +no time.” + +But Laura was too genuinely frightened to let it go at that. “What if +they come back?” she asked. “Then they’d get us both.” + +“No, they wouldn’t,” Beebo said and her face became hard. “Because I’d +kill any man who laid a hand on you. Any man. I don’t care how. I +wouldn’t ask any questions. I’d do it with whatever was handy—a knife or +my own hands.” Laura started, staring at her. “No man will ever touch +you, Laura, and live. I swear.” + +Laura went pale, wondering how Beebo would react to a marriage between +herself and Jack; wondering how much violence she was capable of. “All +right, Beebo,” she said. “Will you—just tell me one thing? Why won’t you +see a doctor?” + +Beebo turned away from her then, petulant as a child. “I haven’t seen a +doctor in twenty years, Bo-peep,” she said. + +“Why?” + +Beebo sighed. “Because they might find out I’m a woman,” she said +quietly. + +Laura covered her face with her hands and cried in silence. It was +futile. Beebo _was_ a woman, no matter how many pairs of pants hung in +her closet, no matter how she swaggered or swore. And while she could +fool some people into thinking she was a boy, there were a lot more she +couldn’t fool, and to them she looked foolish and rather pathetic. But +Beebo was too sick to argue with. Laura was afraid of the way she +talked, of the harsh way she laughed. + +“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” she said. + +“We won’t talk about it at all,” Beebo said, facing the wall, her back +to Laura. “Where were you tonight, Laura?” + +Laura swallowed convulsively before she could answer. “I was at the +movies,” she said. + +She waited for Beebo to question her further, but there was no +questioning. + +“I guess I’d better wash,” Beebo said. She rolled over and looked at +Laura. “Do you really love me, baby?” she asked, and her eyes were deep +and clouded. + +“Yes,” said Laura with a sad little smile, afraid to say anything else. + +Beebo gazed at her for a while, returning the smile. “Thank God,” she +whispered, her hand caressing Laura’s shoulder. And then she said, +“Where’s Nix?” She started to get out of bed but Laura stopped her. + +“They hurt him, Beebo,” she stammered. + +“Hurt him? How?” + +“They—darling, I don’t know how to tell you—please, Beebo!” she cried in +sudden fear as Beebo pushed past her. She stopped at the edge of the +bed, staring with huge eyes at her little pet. + +“I didn’t realize—it was so bad,” Beebo blurted inanely. + +“He’s dead,” Laura whispered. + +“Oh. Oh, that was too much. Too much....” Beebo stared at him, her face +almost stupid with sorrow. She didn’t scream as Laura had, or turn away +sick. She just gaped at him for a while with Laura clinging to her and +murmuring, “It’s all right, darling, it’s all right,” because she didn’t +know what else to say. + +Beebo got off the bed and went to him, kneeling beside the ruined little +body, and picked him up in her arms. + +Beebo looked at Laura with the blood running all over her and there was +grief on her face. “He was just a dog,” she moaned. “Such a little dog. +There was nothing queer about _him_!... And he could talk, too.” She +almost shouted it and Laura waited, trembling, for her to move. + +“He was so sweet, Laura,” she said with tears coursing down her face. +“You never liked him much, but he was such a good dog.” + +“I loved him, Beebo, he was a part of your life,” Laura protested +anxiously. + +But Beebo ignored it. It was half a lie, spoken in affection, but still +a lie. “I could always talk to him and it seemed as if he understood,” +Beebo said. “I know you thought I was crazy. But there were times when I +had to talk to somebody and there wasn’t anybody. Only Nix. I had him +for seven years ... since he was six weeks old.” And she clutched him to +her and wept and Laura looked at her, all bloodied and heartbroken, and +thought, _She feels worse about the dog than about herself_. + +“Now that he’s gone ... at least we’ll have one less thing to fight +about.” Beebo looked very pale and odd. “Won’t we, baby?” she said. + +“I—I guess so,” Laura said. _She’s cracked!_ she thought. She went into +the living room then, leaving Beebo alone for a few minutes, and called +Jack. He was alone. + +“Jack, I don’t know how to tell you. I—they raped Beebo.” Her voice was +low and shaky. + +Jack wasn’t sure whether she was kidding or not. He wasn’t even sure he +heard her right. “Lucky bitch,” he said. “I wish they’d rape me instead. +I’m never in the right place at the right time.” + +“I’m serious, Jack.” + +And when he heard the catch in her throat he believed her. “_Who_ raped +her, sweetheart?” he said, and the levity was dead gone from him. + +“She doesn’t know. Some hoods. God knows who they were.” + +“Did you call a doctor?” + +“She won’t let me!” Laura’s voice rose with indignation. “Of all the +nonsense I ever heard in my life! She’s afraid the doctor will find out +she’s a female. I think we’re all going crazy—” But she felt Beebo’s +hand then taking the phone from her, and she surrendered it without +arguing and went to the couch and collapsed. + +“Jack?” Beebo said. “I’m all right. It looks worse than it really is. +I’ll live.” The front of her was sticky with Nix’s blood. + +“You talk like it happens all the time,” Jack said with scolding +sympathy. “Like getting you teeth drilled, or something.” + +Beebo smiled wryly. “How is it you always know just what to say to a +girl, Jackson? Make her feel real swell?” + +“How is it that you’re such a goddam prude you won’t let a doctor +examine you? The doctor doesn’t give a damn what sex you are.” + +“They killed Nix.” She threw it at him unexpectedly, silencing him about +the doctor. And she described him with such detail that Laura didn’t +want to listen. She got up and went into the bedroom to escape the +conversation. + +Beebo joined Laura on the bed ten minutes later, wearing her men’s +cotton pajamas. Laura was too tired and weak to move. Beebo undressed +her where she lay on the bed and dragged her under the covers naked. + +“I don’t know what to do with Nix,” she said. “I’ll have to figure +something out in the morning.” + +They lay in each other’s arms, absorbed in their own thoughts. Laura’s +mind was a potpourri of vivid impressions. She would never forget the +bloody little dog, nor the fragrant skin of the Indian dancer, nor +Beebo’s misery, nor those sinfully sweet kisses she stole from Tris.... + +“Jack’s coming over tomorrow,” Beebo said in her ear. + +“Good.” + +“Why ‘good’?” + +“He’ll help us. He’ll make you see a doctor and he’ll do something about +Nix. I don’t know, I just feel better with him around.” + +“If I didn’t know for goddam sure how gay you are, baby, I’d hate that +guy.” + +Laura had to laugh. “Beebo, if you get jealous of Jack I’ll send you to +a head shrinker.” + +“Okay, okay, I know it’s nuts. But you talk about him all the time.” + +“I’m very fond of Jack. You know that. He brought us together, darling.” +And she said it so gently that Beebo clasped her tighter and was +reassured. + +Laura slept, finally. But Beebo could not. She spent the night with her +arms around Laura, taking her only comfort in Laura’s nearness and the +sudden apparent return of her affection. + + * * * * * + +Jack came at eight-thirty. It was a Saturday morning and he had the day +to spend. With his usual detachment he wrapped Nix up while Beebo was +dressing. He carted him down the stairs in a garbage pail and left him +for the morning pickup in a trash bin, well hidden in a shroud of +papers. When Beebo came into the kitchen a few minutes later he just +said, “He’s gone. Don’t ask me about it, Beebo. It’s all over.” He found +it almost as hard to talk about as she did. + +“Damn you, Jack,” Beebo said feebly. But she was glad he had done it for +her. She felt lousy. All the excitement and anger that had sustained her +the night before were gone, leaving a lassitude and nausea that swept +over her in waves. Laura made her go back to bed and fed her breakfast +from a tray. + +“Don’t leave me, baby,” Beebo begged and Laura promised to stay near by. +But as soon as Beebo had swallowed a little food and kept it down, she +fell asleep, and Jack pulled Laura to her feet and dragged her, +whispering protests, into the kitchen. + +“How can I talk to you in there?” he demanded and fixed them both some +coffee. + +Laura drank in silence, listening to his rambling talk with one ear, +gratefully. She thought of Tris and wondered whether to confess to Jack +about the dancer or keep it a secret. She knew he wouldn’t like it. + +“Beebo acted kind of crazy last night,” Laura said. “I think she felt +worse about Nix than about herself.” + +“No doubt she did. But pretty soon she’ll feel her own aches and pains. +Maybe I can find her another hound somewhere. I just hope to God she +doesn’t use this thing to make a prisoner of you, Mother.” + +“A prisoner?” + +“She was getting pretty desperate about you, you know. I think that has +a lot to do with all the drinking.” + +Laura realized then that he didn’t put a shot of booze in his coffee. +“You’re still on the wagon!” she said. + +He swirled his coffee reflectively. “I remember,” he said, “when Terry +was giving me the works a few months back. I nearly drank myself to +extinction. Beebo’s not above trying it herself.” + +“Oh, God, that was awful!” Laura said, remembering Terry. + +Terry had been enough to drive a strong man mad. If he had been nasty +about it Jack could have stood it better. He could have preserved his +self-respect and he might have had the strength to kick Terry out sooner +than he did. But Terry was nice. He was delightful and cooperative. He +was unfaithful, he was taking every cent Jack made as Jack made it, and +he was hardly ever home. + +But Jack was in love with him; angrily in love with the wrong person, +sticking to a doomed attachment as if every new shock and every +unexpected pain only strengthened his need for the boy. + +Jack knew it was hopeless. He knew it was draining his strength and +making a coward of him. In his mind the whole sad farce of the thing was +perfectly clear. But he acted on his emotions in spite of himself, and +as long as Terry loved him he couldn’t let him go. + +Curiously enough, Terry did love him. Jack was home base to him; Jack +was security. Jack paid the bills and bolstered him when he was low, and +no matter how rough and rotten the rest of the world might get, good old +Jack was always there, always the same. + +But the end had to come. There was never enough money, there was never +enough understanding, there was never enough of the right kind of love. +It took just one sharp explosion of acid resentment one night, when Jack +caught Terry cheating after two years of bitter suspicions, to blow them +apart. It was almost too painful to think about afterwards. + +It was over now, of course. Terry was gone. But the ache for him and the +loneliness, even the desire to be tormented remained. + +“You never heard from Terry, did you?” Laura asked. + +“No. He took his things and left and I haven’t heard from him since. +Makes me think he must have left New York.” + +“Do you still want him?” She asked it not to hurt him but because she +knew he had to say it now and then or die of it. + +“Of course I want him,” he said briefly. “Drink your coffee. Your +patient is howling for attention.” + + + + + 5 + + +_Three weeks_, Laura wrote in her diary, sitting in the living room +while Beebo slept. _Three weeks of this, and if it goes on much longer +I’ll end up hating her. I felt so sorry for her at first. It was such a +cruel thing and it hurt her terribly. But she’s well now—I know she is. +She’s lying around getting fat and drinking like a fish and not working. +If she doesn’t get back to work soon I’ll lose my mind. And she’ll lose +her job for sure. They’ve been calling all week._ + +Laura hadn’t minded being a nurse at first. She tended Beebo gently and +made her rest and, being unsure herself and hounded by her patient to +forget it, she never did call a doctor. But Beebo seemed to come out of +it fast. Physically the scars healed quickly. At the end of a week she +was up and around. She hadn’t had a drink since the day it happened, and +she talked about going back to work the next Monday. + +But then Laura came home late one evening and she found Beebo drunk. + +“Where the hell have you been?” Beebo shouted at her when Laura came in +and found her in the kitchen. “I’m sick and miserable, I’ve just been +through hell, and you can’t even come home from work to make my dinner +for me.” + +Confronted with such a bombardment of nonsense, Laura wouldn’t even +answer her. She undressed and took a shower, but Beebo followed her into +the bathroom and went right on yelling. Laura had pulled the shower +curtain but Beebo opened it and watched her bathe. + +“Laura,” she said, “where were you?” No answer. “Tell me. _Tell_ me, +damn it!” It was an order. + +“Ask me like a civilized human being, then,” Laura said, turning around +to rinse her soapy back. + +“I’ll ask you any way I goddam please. I have a right to know.” + +Laura turned the water off and eyed her coldly. “I had dinner with +Jack,” she said. “He dropped in after work.” + +“I don’t believe you.” + +“Call him.” She stepped out of her bath, cool and dripping and haughty +as a princess, and Beebo burned for her. + +“I don’t believe a word he says. He always lies for you. No matter what +I ask him he’s always got an answer. I used to like the guy, but Jesus, +it’s gotten so I can’t trust him any more. He’s always on your side.” + +Laura wrapped herself in a towel and began to rub herself, but Beebo +suddenly put her whiskey down and clasped her in a bear hug. + +“Laura, darling, I felt so rotten today. And I looked forward so much to +having you home. It’s so quiet and lonesome around here all day without +Nix. I nearly go mad. Baby, I know I’ve taken up a lot of your time, but +I couldn’t help it. I didn’t _ask_ those bastards to rape me.” + +Laura relaxed slightly in the embrace, since she couldn’t squirm out of +it. “You felt better today, not worse, Beebo. You told me so this +morning.” + +“That was this morning. I got worse this afternoon,” she said +petulantly. + +“You got worse at exactly five-thirty when I was fifteen minutes late.” + +“Where _were_ you?” + +“With Jack. Beebo, you’ve been drinking. You promised me you wouldn’t.” + +“If you’d been home I wouldn’t have to!” Beebo released her abruptly, +picked up the whiskey glass with a swoop of her hand, and defiantly +finished what was in it. + +Laura cinched the towel around herself and approached Beebo. “Do you +know what you’re saying, you nut?” she said. “You big fool? Beebo, +answer me!” But Beebo turned her back and watched Laura with glittering +eyes in the mirror on the medicine chest. + +“You’re saying that you can’t stay sober without me, Beebo. Do you +realize that?” + +“I can’t stay sober if you don’t love me, Laura.” + +“Oh, damn you, Beebo!” Laura almost wept with frustration. “You’re only +saying that to make me feel guilty. To put the blame on _me_ instead of +on yourself where it belongs! I didn’t give you your first drink, God +knows. I don’t ply you with liquor. You’ve fixed it with your conscience +so no matter when you get drunk it’s my fault. No matter how much you +drink, you’re only drinking because Laura is such a bitch. Well, I won’t +buy it! It’s a damn plot to make a prisoner of me!” + +“A prisoner! Now where did little Bo-peep get that fancy idea?” Beebo’s +eyes were narrow and sharp in spite of the whiskey. Her anger brought +clarity with it. “That sounds like the kind of propaganda Jack would +spout.” + +“No—” Laura began, but Beebo silenced her with a menacing wave of her +hand. Laura found herself trapped against the bathroom door. + +Beebo put a hand up on the door on either side of Laura and looked down +at her. “Now, suppose you just tell me what Jack said,” she said. + +“What makes you think Jack said it? I can think for myself and you know +it. And I _am_ a prisoner here!” + +“You can’t think for yourself when Jack’s around. That bastard is the +Pied Piper of Greenwich Village. He opens his yap and all the little +fairies listen pop-eyed to whatever he has to say. Including you.” + +Laura looked at her and found herself caught by Beebo’s spell again. +Beebo was born to lose her temper. She looked wonderful when she did. It +exasperated Laura to feel a bare animal desire for her at times like +this. + +“Jack said it. Come on. Jack said it, didn’t he?” Beebo insisted. + +“All right!” Laura almost screamed. “Jack said it!” + +She looked up at Beebo with embarrassed desire and to make her shame +complete, Beebo saw it. And she knew she was in command again, even if +only for an hour or so. Beebo was learning to live for those hours. The +rest of the time nothing much mattered. + +Beebo shifted support of her leaning body from her arms to Laura, lifted +up Laura’s angry helpless face and kissed it. “Why aren’t you like this +all the time?” she asked. And Laura startled her when she echoed, “Why +aren’t _you_ like this all the time?” + +“Like what, baby? Drunk?” + +“No ...,” Laura hesitated. She didn’t quite understand what she meant +herself. + +“Mad?” Beebo asked. + +“I don’t know.” + +Beebo laughed. “If it’ll help I’ll get mad and stay mad, Bo-peep. I’ll +get drunk and stay drunk. Would you like that?” She interspersed her +words with kisses. + +“No. I just—I hate it when you act like a spoiled brat, Beebo.” + +“I never act like a spoiled brat.” Her voice was little more than a +whisper now. + +They sank to the floor where they were and made love then. + +And even after Laura had finally fallen asleep, in her arms, Beebo felt +a tide of renewed passion. She caressed Laura’s hair and back with her +hands and thought, _If it can be this good it’s not over_. + + * * * * * + +Laura had left work meaning to go straight home. But as before she +hadn’t gone far when she knew she was headed for Tris’s little studio. + +Tris opened the door herself. She had evidently been practicing for she +was dressed in tights and breathing hard. Her black hair was smoothed +over her head, caught in back with a clasp and braided. The braid, heavy +and shining, hung halfway down her back and swung like a whip when she +whirled. + +Tris paused for a moment when she saw Laura on her threshold and for an +awful second Laura thought she might turn her away. But Tris smiled +suddenly and said, “Laura. How nice. Please come in.” + +“I just dropped by to say hello,” Laura apologized. + +“That is not all, I hope?” Tris said, looking at her. + +Laura felt an odd little twist of excitement. “Well ... I shouldn’t +stay. I don’t want to interrupt your work.” + +“Of course you do. That’s why you came,” Tris said, spinning +reflectively in place, her weight shifting delicately to pull her around +and around. + +Laura didn’t know if she was being scolded or teased, if she should +leave or stay. Tris stopped twirling and said, “I’m glad you came. I +didn’t want to work any more anyway.” + +Laura hesitated, wondering whether to believe her. But when Tris walked +across the room to her and kissed her cheek she melted suddenly with +pleasure. She stood quietly and let herself be kissed, afraid to return +the compliment. She was very unsure of herself with Tris. Even the +gentlest gesture seemed to irritate the dancer sometimes. Laura could +only let her take the lead. + +Tris turned away abruptly, her mood shifting. “Well, now you are here,” +she said in her careful English. “What would you like to do?” It was a +sort of challenge. + +“I—I’d like to see you dance, Tris. Would you dance for me?” + +“No.” She was pouting. “You are my excuse for not dancing any more +today, Laura.” + +“Maybe we could just talk for a little while, then.” + +“We could ... but we won’t.” + +Laura was at a loss for words. She stammered a little and finally she +blurted, “I think you’d rather have me go home.” + +“I think Beebo would like you home more than I would. She doesn’t let +you out very often, does she?” + +Laura colored. “She’s not my jailkeeper,” she said. + +“I don’t like this—this interference you force me to make in your love +affair, Laura,” Tris said and surprised her guest. “I don’t know your +Beebo, but I have nothing against her. Still, I do not imagine she will +like _me_ very well if she finds out you are my guest now and then.” + +“What do you care whether Beebo likes you or not?” Laura demanded, +startled. + +Tris broke into a charming smile then, as if to placate her visitor. “I +want everybody to like me,” she said. “I suppose it is a compulsion left +from my childhood.” And, as if she had made a guilty admission, she +turned away abruptly saying, “Let’s go into the kitchen. If I stand in +here I will feel obliged to dance.” + +Laura followed her and sat down self-consciously. Tris fixed a plate of +cookies and gave her a glass of milk. She smiled. + +“I am hard to know, Laura. I am not very gracious. But I like your +company.” Her smile was as warm and luscious as ripe fruit in the sun. + +They finished the food over small talk about men. Laura was lost, +silent. She just nodded agreement and listened with dismay. _She’s +trying to tell me she doesn’t like girls_, she thought. _But it’s a +lie!_ + +Tris rinsed the plates, watching herself all the while in one mirror or +another. It was as if she felt herself on exhibition all the time, as if +all those mirrors were scattered around to remind her of her own beauty. + +Tris dried her hands and turned to face Laura. There was an awkward +pause and Laura realized suddenly that she was supposed to get up and +leave. They had had their small talk. She had been served food. That was +all she could reasonably expect from her hostess, especially since she +was an uninvited guest. She felt her heart contract a little in +disappointment, and she thought with a flash of yearning of the +intimacies of her last visit. + +But she was too proud to overstay her welcome, especially after the way +Tris had shown her the door last time. So she got up and said, “Thanks +Tris. I have to go.” + +“Oh?” It was merely polite. + +“Beebo’s expecting me.” + +“I see.” No protest. Tris followed her toward the front door. “Ask me +over to your apartment sometime, Laura. You would make a much nicer +hostess than I. Besides, I should like to see how your big roommate +looks in pants. She does wear pants?” + +“Yes, she does.” Laura turned to look at her curiously. “But she’s a +jealous hellion.” + +Tris leaned on the wall by the door, crossing her feet at the ankles. + +“Does she know you have been here to visit me?” Her smile was sly, +interested. + +“No. I don’t think she even remembers you,” Laura said shortly. + +“Ah! Flattering. Do you think it’s wise to make a secret of our +friendship, Laura?” + +“It’s either that or get my neck broken,” Laura said. + +Tris laughed a little, as if the idea of such hard play amused her. +“Laura ... would you like to stay a little longer?” she said. Her voice +made it sound very inviting. + +“I can’t.” Laura was upset by all the talk of Beebo. + +“As long as you leave by eight it would be all right,” Tris said. “I +have a date at eight.” + +“With a man?” + +“Certainly with a man. I have no secrets, Laura. I do not like to cheat, +like you. You cheat with your Beebo by seeing me. But still—” she +hunched her shoulders and smiled—“I like you. You like me. Perhaps it is +worth the risk. You are the one who will get your neck broken, not me. I +have no right to deny you your pain.” + +Laura frowned at her. It was an odd thing to say. Tris put her hands on +Laura’s arms and they stood that way, silent, for a moment. + +At last Tris said, “Dance with me.” + +“I don’t know how,” Laura said shyly. + +“I am a teacher. I teach you. Come on.” + +“I’m so clumsy, Tris.” + +But Tris pulled her to the middle of the studio and put a record on. She +stood for a minute in front of Laura as if trying to make up her mind +where to grasp her, how to start. Laura felt impossibly awkward. But +Tris made up her mind quickly and slipped her arms around Laura’s neck. +Laura was two inches taller than she and Tris was obliged to look up at +her when she spoke. + +“We will just do it like the teen-agers!” she said. “There is nothing to +it really. Stand in one place and shift your weight from one foot to the +other, with the beat. That’s it. You’ve got it. That’s a good +beginning.” + +Laura couldn’t help laughing. “Even _I_ can do that much,” she said. + +“Ah. Then there is hope. Next year at this time you will do the _tour +jeté_.” + +Laura had her arms around Tris at the waist and they swayed gently to +the music, and suddenly all her suspicion and embarrassment faded. She +became conscious of the tantalizing jasmine that emanated from Tris—from +her throat and her hair and her breasts, barely covered by the bandeau. +The black braid moved softly against Laura’s bare arms in back and Tris +put her cheek against Laura’s, tilting her face up. Her lips were near +Laura’s ear and she whispered, “You know, Laura, I must tell you +something. You are a homosexual. Yes?” + +Laura swallowed. “Yes,” she said. + +“You should know then ... I am not. Not like you. I like the company of +girls, yes. My dance pupils. Friends. But I love men. I love them. Do +you understand?” + +“No.” Laura shut her eyes and pulled Tris a little tighter. + +“Well, then, I will explain. Men excite me. All men, I mean. The idea of +men.... It is hard to say. But I would rather be with a man than with a +woman. But now and then I meet a woman who interests me. And sometimes +the interest goes beyond just talk. You see?” + +“No.” + +“Sometimes I want to kiss her. Or be close to her. But that is all. Now +do you see?” + +“No.” + +Tris gave an impatient little sigh. “I am telling you I am not queer +like you!” she said sharply and Laura winced with sudden pain. Tris felt +it and she amended quickly, “That is an unkind word. You people call it +gay. All right. _I_ am not gay. I like you, I like to talk to you and +watch you move and sometimes I am moved myself to kiss you or be close +to you, like this. Our bodies like this, all up and down. You see? But I +don’t like to go any farther. Not with a girl. You are only the third +girl I have felt this for. It will not happen again for a long time. +Perhaps I will marry soon, and then it will never happen again.” + +“Marry! Who? An Indian?” + +“No!” she exclaimed almost contemptuously. “Another. He is _white_.” + +“You’re full of contradictions, Tris,” Laura said, looking down at her +in bewilderment. “You said you were gay and you married a gay boy.” + +“Oh, yes. I did, didn’t I?” She looked trapped. “Well, I thought I was +then. But I know now—positively—I am not.” + +“But you said—” + +“Such wonderful blond hair you have, Laura. I would give anything for +such hair. Why do you always wear it wound up like that?” And she began +to slip pins out of the bun, letting them drop to the polished floor, +until the coil of gold came loose and Tris gave a delighted, “Ah!” + +Laura felt the thrill go through her hard. She forgot her protests about +Tris’s sex drive and pulled the dancer very close to kiss her full on +the mouth. Tris yielded. With one accord they stopped dancing and just +clung and kissed, swaying slightly. It lasted for long minutes—just +kisses, soft and exploratory, but careful. Laura wondered vaguely, +through the fog of lovely sensations, what miserable devil prompted this +delectable girl to deny her Lesbian impulses. For Laura could tell that +Tris enjoyed this love play as much as she. She encouraged it, even when +Laura tried to stop, and pulled her back for more. + +By eight o’clock they were lying on the big red silk couch in the +bedroom, murmuring inanities to each other, discovering one another’s +bodies and emotions through twin shields of clothes and caution. + +“Will you come and see me again?” Tris asked. + +“Are you inviting me?” + +“Of course.” + +“When would it be convenient?” She said it in clipped English, like the +English Tris spoke, to tease her. + +“It is never convenient. But come anyway.” + +Laura laughed. “When?” + +“Tomorrow.” + +“No date tomorrow?” + +“Yes. Every night.” + +“Save a night for me, Tris.” + +Tris gazed at her for a moment before she answered, “No.” + +“Why not?” + +“We do too much in these few short hours. What would we do with a whole +night? I do not like to think.” + +“I think of it all the time. I can’t think of anything else.” + +“Ah, that is a very bad sign. I am sorry to hear you say that. You must +not fall in love with me, Laura.” + +“I’ll try to remember,” she said sarcastically. + +“I am serious,” Tris said. + +Laura didn’t answer her. She lay on her back and looked up at the small +skylight directly over the bed. It was a square of violet—the last shade +of fading day. + +“I do not want you to fall in love with me, Laura,” Tris persisted. + +“I hear you,” Laura said quietly. + +“Well, why don’t you answer?” + +“I don’t know how to answer, Tris,” she said, turning to look at her in +the semi-gloom of the bedroom. + +“What are your feelings for me?” + +“Do you want a blue print?” Laura said, hurt. “I can’t spell them out +for you. I don’t understand them myself.” But she understood them all +too well. She had felt these pangs before for other girls—only two or +three, including Beebo, but enough to make them familiar and unwelcome. +But still exciting and irresistible. + +Tris lay beside her, quiet for a while, and finally she said, “Do you +know why I was not very glad to see you at first today?” + +“No.” Laura reached across the bed to put a hand on Tris’s breasts, to +feel what she could not see in the gathering darkness. + +“I was afraid,” Tris whispered. “Of my own feelings. I do not like to +become involved with women. It has always been unpleasant for me.” + +“Do you still want me to come back and see you?” + +“Yes.” She paused and Laura sensed a smile. “As long as I ask you to +come back, Laura, you will know you are safe with me.” + +“Safe?” + +“I will put it another way. If a day comes when I do _not_ want to see +you, it will be because I am in love with you. And that will be the end. +From that day on we will never meet again, until I am cured.” + +Laura had to smile. Who could take such a charming speech seriously? +“All right,” she murmured and embraced the lovely dancer. + +“Now you must go,” Tris told her. “My date will be here soon. He is +always prompt.” + +Laura got up without protest. But it was sweet to take the time to wind +up her hair and know she was welcome. “Did you kick me out for the same +boy last time?” she asked. + +Tris had turned a light on and they watched each other in the mirror +before which Laura was combing her hair. + +“No. Another.” + +“I hate him,” Laura said with a little smile. “And the rest of them.” + +Tris gazed at her coolly. “How very foolish,” she said. And made Laura +laugh. + +They parted with a chaste kiss, and for the first time since they had +met Laura felt as if she had a slim chance with this odd and +irresistible girl who was still so much a stranger to her. She went home +to her angry Beebo, her body tense with need. And later, when Beebo +demanded her body, Laura surrendered promptly and helplessly. + + * * * * * + +Beebo, since the night of her attack, had become unbearably suspicious. +Everything Laura did, everywhere she went, had to be reported in detail. +She called Tris once or twice from work and Tris had bawled her out for +not showing up. Laura was more pleased than sorry when Tris sounded +jealous—while she bridled angrily at Beebo’s jealousy, she was thrilled +with Tris’s. + +Laura had strong doubts about Beebo’s illness now. She could have gone +to work weeks ago. The bruises were nearly invisible; only a pale yellow +shadow stained the spot where the worst had been. Beebo was using it as +an excuse to sit around another week and take it easy and drink and +bitch over the phone to Lili about her problems. + +“I always hated that damn elevator,” she declared with her feet up on +the coffee table in the living room and a drink in her hand. + +“You make me sick!” Laura told her. “You’re _well_. Get up and go to +work.” + +Beebo looked at her watch. “At six-thirty in the evening?” she said, and +laughed. + +“I’m not going to support us both, Beebo,” Laura said. “And I’m sick and +tired of playing nursemaid.” + +To her diary Laura confided, _I am in love. I’m sure of it. The more I’m +with Beebo the more I want Tris. Oh, God, how much I want her!_ + + * * * * * + +Laura was desperate after two more weeks of Beebo. Beebo drove her +frantic when they were cooped up together in the small apartment, as +they were every night. And Beebo was wild for the love Laura denied her. +The attack she had endured seemed to have touched off a burning core of +violence in her that never went out. + +When Beebo found the small steel strongbox on the closet floor with +Laura’s diary inside, she pounded it with a stone to get it open but the +lock didn’t break. When Laura got home from work and found the battered +box on the coffee table in the living room she went pale with alarm, and +Beebo, who was lying in wait for her reaction, exclaimed, “Damn it, I +knew it. You sure as hell look guilty, Laura. What’s in it?” She kicked +the box. + +“Nothing.” Laura walked across the room but her legs felt weak. + +“Open it, then.” + +“No.” + +“Where’s the key?” + +“I don’t know.” + +“It’s your box, goddam it. You know where the key is! Why did you hide +it from me? What are you ashamed of?” + +“I’m under no obligation to show you everything I own!” Laura said +frostily. “I’ll hide what I please.” + +“You tell me what’s in it,” Beebo threatened, “or I’ll choke you. I +swear I’ll choke you, you bitch.” She slammed Laura against the wall +with one hand to her throat. + +Laura gasped in panic. There was only one thing to do with Beebo in +these moods and that was go along with her, stall, anything but resist +her. That was too painful and Laura even feared that one of these days, +with Beebo as crazy as she was, it might be fatal. + +“All right,” Laura said through a tight throat. “Let me go.” + +She rummaged for the key for ten minutes, knowing all the while that it +was in the wallet in her purse. + +“Don’t tell me you can’t find it,” Beebo said, watching her through +narrowed eyes. + +“I almost never use the thing,” Laura said as calmly as she could. + +“You find it,” Beebo said. And something in the tone of her voice made +Laura very frightened. _I’m getting out of here_, she thought to herself +suddenly. _If I can just get out of this somehow I’ll leave her tonight +and I won’t come back. I’ll go to Jack’s._ + +She turned and faced Beebo, desperate. “Beebo, it’s just some personal +papers. It’s nothing you’d be interested in.” + +“It’s exactly what I’d be interested in. I’d be even more interested in +why you went white as a sheet when you saw I had it. Explain _that_ to +me, Bo-peep.” + +Laura pressed her teeth together in a small grimace of exasperation. +“It’s my birth certificate and my baptism certificate and two insurance +policies and some old love letters,” she said. + +“Love letters from who?” Beebo demanded. + +“Beth.” + +Beebo put her head back and laughed. “Oh!” she said. “Beth! Good old +Beth. Your college flame. I’m getting so I _know_ that goddam girl.” + +“She was a lot more—” Laura began, her cheeks hot. She couldn’t bear to +hear Beth laughed at, to hear that perfect love ridiculed. + +“I know what she was,” Beebo said acidly. “She was beautiful. She was +bright. She was a queen on the campus and a devil in bed. She was a +success. She even liked men, the traitorous bitch. She was so gorgeous +and so intelligent and so everything that she could do whatever she damn +well pleased—even dump you like a sack of bricks. She loved you so much +she got you kicked out of school and got married. To a _man_.” Beebo +grinned at her, waiting for Laura to explode. But Laura only glared, too +proud to spoil that memory with an ugly spat. + +“Queen Beth was everything Beebo is not,” Beebo said. “You’ll never +learn, will you? Love isn’t pure roses and romance, Laura. You can’t +live with a girl, however much you love her, and still faint with joy +every time she looks your way. It’s a shame you never lived with Beth +like you have with me. You’d find out fast enough she is a human being, +not a goddess.... Now, show me the letters.” + +“Why do you want to read a bunch of miserable old letters?” Laura said, +angry that she had to beg. “That’s all over, Beebo. It can’t do anything +but hurt you.” + +“I’m used to that, Laura. Anybody who lives with you has to be.” + +“You lie!” Laura flared suddenly. They gazed at each other in electric +silence for a minute. Then Laura said quietly, in a move to restore her +safety, “Let me fill your glass.” She came to take it from her but Beebo +held it away. “What are you trying to do, baby, get me drunk? Let’s see +the letters.” + +Laura sat down on the bed beside her. Maybe she could sweet-talk her out +of the box. “Beebo,” she said. “There’s nothing in there you could +possibly want to see or be interested in. Will you believe me?” + +Beebo looked at her coldly and didn’t move. “The letters,” she said and +held out a hand. + +Laura sighed. “After dinner,” she begged. “Let’s at least eat in peace.” +And before Beebo could answer she leaned over and kissed her lips. “I +love you, Beebo,” she said, very softly and hopefully. And there were +still times when she wondered if she might not speak the truth. But this +wasn’t one of them. She spoke out of the need to save her skin. + +Beebo swallowed the last of the drink. “Yeah,” she said. “The letters.” + +Laura kissed her again. Beebo submitted to it without returning the +kiss. “You’re not very subtle, Bo-peep,” she said. + +“I just want a stay of execution,” Laura said with a wry smile. “If we +have to yell at each other, let’s save it till after dinner. Please, +darling. The box won’t walk away.” And Beebo, in spite of the +obviousness of it, in spite of her own better sense and Laura’s flagrant +flattery, weakened. + +“Are they that bad?” she asked. “The goddam letters from Beth the +Beautiful?” + +“They’re just love letters. They’re old and stale and the affair is old +and stale. It’s over and done with.” + +“Like our affair?” And Beebo said it so simply, without the histrionics +and the swearing and the noisy misery she usually showered on Laura, +that Laura was touched. She put her forehead down on Beebo’s shoulder +and whispered, “I don’t know, Beebo. You scare me so sometimes I swear +I’ll move out of here and run like hell and never come back. Sometimes I +really think you mean to kill me.” + +“Sometimes I really do,” Beebo said and her voice was rough. “If I did, +I’d kill myself right afterwards, darling.” + +“A lot of good that would do me!” Laura exploded. But she softened when +Beebo’s face went dark. “You don’t mean that, Beebo. You’d never really +do it ... would you?” + +“I don’t know,” Beebo said, staring at her. “I’ve come close to it, +baby. I’ve come close....” + +“If you really love me, you couldn’t.” + +“I really love you. But there are times when I don’t think I could stop +myself.” Her eyes filled suddenly with tears and she looked away, at the +wall. “Things that would hurt too much.” + +“Like what?” + +“Like finding out you were cheating on me.” + +Laura shut her eyes and felt the sweat break out on her face. _But I +haven’t really cheated with Tris_, she told herself. _We never went all +the way. I don’t think we ever will._ “Don’t be silly,” she told Beebo. +“Who is there for me to cheat on you with? _Nobody._” + +“Jack.” + +“Jack?” Laura straightened up, astonished. “He’s a man!” + +“Sure he’s a man. I know what he is.” + +Laura took Beebo’s face in her hands and said, “I promise you I have +never cheated with Jack or anybody else. I _swear_, Beebo. You think I +have but I haven’t. You just make it up.” + +“Do I just make it up that I love you more than you love me?” + +Laura hung her head. “Let’s shout about it after dinner,” she said. + +“Okay.” Unexpectedly Beebo surrendered and Laura escaped to the kitchen +with an audible sigh of relief. + +They ate in near-silence, Laura concentrating on her plate and Beebo +concentrating on Laura. They were almost finished with the gloomy little +meal when there came a ring of the doorbell and Laura, without knowing +why, felt a sudden start of fear. + +“Who’s that?” Beebo demanded. + +“I don’t know.” Laura didn’t even want to look at her. “Probably Jack. +Or your darling Lili.” + +“Oh, Christ, I couldn’t stand to see either of them right now. Lili +would love to hear us quarrel.” + +“Let’s disappoint her, then,” Laura said and they smiled a little at +each other. Laura was surprised at the strength of her relief. But when +Beebo got up to ring the buzzer that opened the door below, the strange +fear returned. + +Far away downstairs she heard the front door open. Laura sat in uneasy +silence in the kitchen, listening to the steps coming up the stairs out +in the hall. She could picture Beebo leaning against the door jamb, +waiting for the knock. More than once she had begged Beebo to be +cautious opening that door. She had nightmares about the hoodlums that +raped Beebo coming back to try it again—and getting Laura too this time. +But Beebo shrugged it off. + +“They won’t be back,” she had said. + +“How do _you_ know?” + +“I know,” was the cryptic answer, and that was all Laura could get out +of her. + +Laura found herself staring into her milk glass and whispering a prayer: +_Let it be Jack. Please, dear God. I need him._ + +The knock came. Beebo opened the door. There was a moment of silence and +then the sound of a sweet feminine voice using a very dainty English. It +was Tris! + +Laura froze in a panic. For one frightened second she thought of +climbing down the fire escape. And then she put her glass down with +trembling hands and poised herself, tense with the near-hysterical force +piling up inside her. + +Suddenly Beebo said, “Well, I’ll be goddamned. Hey, Laura! It’s our +little Indian buddy. From Peck and Peck. Come on in, sweetheart.” + +“Thank you,” Tris said. + +Laura held her breath. Beebo’s friendliness would last just as long as +it took her to start wondering what Tris was doing there and how she +found the place. Laura could have slapped Tris. She hardly dared go in +the living room and face them both. + +Beebo called her. “Get in here, baby. Make like a hostess, for God’s +sake. How’d you find us?” she said, her voice lowering as she turned to +Tris. + +“I ran into Laura at the Hobby Shop,” Tris said. “I was looking for a +gift.” + +“Find one?” Beebo settled down on the couch, appraising Tris’s slim +smooth body with a cool and practiced eye. Laura saw the glance as she +stood in the kitchen doorway. She disliked the way Tris let herself be +admired. + +“Hello, Laura,” Tris said, almost shyly. + +“Hello, Tris.” Laura wanted Beebo to stop looking at that warm brown +body, lightly sheathed in silk. Her eyes snapped angrily at Tris, and +Tris saw it. “Sit down,” Laura said. + +“So ...,” Beebo mused, her eyes half-closed and calculating. “You +discovered Laura in the Hobby Shop and got chummy, hm?” + +“She told me where you live,” Tris said, turning to her with an +ingratiating smile. “It’s not far from me. She said to come over +sometime, so here I am. Perhaps I come at a bad time?” She looked from +one to the other. + +“Any time is a bad time in this little love nest,” Beebo said. She +thumbed at Laura. “We hate each other,” she explained. “We only live +together so we can fight.” + +“Oh.” Tris looked uncomfortable. + +Beebo grinned at the two girls, pleased to have embarrassed them both, +her mind simmering with suspicions. Laura, stony-faced, refused to say +anything to Tris to put her at ease. She was furious with her for coming +in the first place. + +“What’s your name, honey?” Beebo said to Tris. “I’ve forgotten.” + +“Tris Robischon.” + +“Didn’t you say you were Indian or something?” + +“Yes.” + +Beebo laughed and shook her head. “Yeah ...,” she said. “Indian.” + +Tris began to squirm under her gaze. She was no longer so pleased to be +looked at as she had been when she entered. Beebo stared so hard, in +fact, that Tris finally said coldly, “Perhaps you object to dark skins.” + +“So what if I do?” Beebo said casually, grinning. + +Tris gasped. “Some people,” she said sharply, “think all non-whites are +inferior. Perhaps you are one of those?” + +“Now what gives you a dumb idea like that?” Beebo said. “Do I look +unfriendly?” + +“You stare at me as if I were not welcome.” + +“I stare at you as if you were a damn pretty girl. Which you are. You’re +also too sensitive, but you’re welcome. I like that color.” She waved at +Tris’s shapely legs, crossed at the knees and poised on high-heeled +shoes. “On you it looks good.” And she grinned. There was an awkward +pause and Laura saw, with great irritation, that Tris was simply +returning Beebo’s gaze now, bashfully but rather eagerly. + +“Have some coffee, Tris?” Laura said. + +“Yes, please.” Tris looked at her swiftly, as if she knew Laura didn’t +like her interest in Beebo. + +“What do you do with yourself all day, Tris?” Beebo said. Laura was +afraid of the way her voice sounded now. + +“I dance.” + +“Where?” + +“My studio. I teach.” + +“That all?” + +“I—I have done professional work.” + +They talked for a few minutes until Laura brought the coffee in. She +gave Tris a cup and placed one in front of Beebo. But Beebo reached out +and collared her with one long arm and pulled her down on the couch +beside her. + +“Let go!” Laura snapped, but Beebo only held her harder. + +“So you ... just ran into Laura in the Hobby Shop,” Beebo said to Tris. +“Fancy that.” She smiled a dangerous smile. + +“Yes. It’s not so surprising. I mean I—I live so close by.” + +Laura felt her fear rising in her throat and sweat bursting from her and +she was desperately impatient to get rid of Tris. + +“You know something, little Indian girl?” Beebo said. + +“What?” + +“I don’t believe you.” + +The atmosphere became tense and ominous. “I apologize for her, Tris,” +Laura said with a show of casualness. “She doesn’t believe anything.” + +“Now tell me, Tris,” Beebo said, ignoring her, “how did you and Laura +really meet?” + +Tris looked squarely at her and said, “You know how. I have told the +truth.” She lied very gracefully. Laura wondered how many lies she had +been fed herself. “But I see I am not welcome here,” Tris went on. She +stood up and replaced her coffee cup carefully in the saucer on the +table. “Thank you for the coffee,” she said regally and headed for the +front door. + +Beebo sprang up from the couch suddenly and Laura, frightened, followed +her with almost the same movement. Beebo caught Tris at the door and +turned her around and without even a pause for breath kissed her harshly +on the mouth. It was a long and physically painful kiss, and Laura’s +furious exclamations did nothing to help. She pounded ineffectually on +Beebo’s back. “Beebo, stop it!” she cried. + +But Beebo stopped in her own good time, and that was not until she had +bruised Tris’s mouth enough to make her cry. She cried softly, without a +sound, her eyes shut and her head back against the door, still lifted +toward Beebo. + +Laura was shaken. “Tris—Tris—” she said, trying to get near her, but +Beebo shouldered her out of the way. + +“That’s for being such a good friend of Laura’s,” Beebo said. “And +that’s all you get, too, my little Indian. Now get the hell out and +don’t come back.” + +“Beebo, please!” Laura felt her own angry tears start up, and it was +unbearable to have Tris turn and leave so quickly, so quietly, without +giving her a gesture of comfort or apology. “Tris, I’m so sorry!” she +called after her, but it sounded trite and insincere. + +Beebo shut the door and stood for a moment with her back to Laura. +Laura, shaking, moved away from her. + +“Where did you meet her?” Beebo asked, still not looking at her. “Tell +the truth, Laura.” + +“At work.” + +Beebo whirled around. “How long are you going to lie to me!” she said. + +“This is the last time!” Laura exploded, throwing her caution out with +her patience. “I’m leaving you, Beebo. I’ve _had_ it. You make me sick. +You’re ruining my life. I’m so damn scared and so damn miserable that +nothing is any fun, nothing helps. Life isn’t worth living, not like +this!” + +“Where did you meet her?” Beebo said, with single-minded jealous fury. + +“I went to her apartment!” Laura blazed at her. “I went back for her +card and I went to her apartment.” + +“And made love to her.” + +“No!” She shouted it angrily at first, but then she repeated it, +frightened, “No, Beebo! I swear!” + +But Beebo came across the room in one sudden leap of rage and threw her +down hard on the floor, her big hands on Laura’s slim shoulders, holding +her cruelly and banging her head down again and again until Laura +screamed with pain and terror. And then Beebo dropped her and slapped +her and all the time she kept repeating like a mad woman, “You made love +to her, love to her. Where’s that key? The _key_, damn it!” + +“I’ll give it to you,” Laura sobbed at last. “Oh, God, Beebo, don’t kill +me! I’ll give it to you.” + +Beebo let her up then, or rather, dragged her to her feet. Laura stood +beside her, swaying and dizzy, her eyes blurred by tears and her head +aching. She went into the bedroom, shoving Beebo’s hands away from her +with sharp gestures of hatred, her teeth clenched. And she opened her +purse and pulled out her wallet and gave Beebo the key. + +Beebo snatched it from her and picked up the box like a miser going +after a cache of gold. And Laura, seeing her chance, grabbed the purse +and a sweater that hung on the back of a chair and backed silently out +of the bedroom. She fled, on feet made feather-light with fear, to the +front door. She ran down the stairs with all the speed her fear could +muster and ran all the way—two blocks—to Seventh Avenue. + +After a few frantic moments of scanning the street and looking back over +her shoulder she hailed a cab and climbed in, crying audibly. “Drive +uptown,” she told the man. “Just drive uptown for a few minutes.” + +“Okay,” he said, giving her a quick, cynical onceover. + +Laura looked up and saw Beebo rush into Fourth Street as the cab turned +around and headed north, and she sank down in the back seat, her hands +over her face. She let him drive her almost to Times Square before she +could control her sobs and give him Jack’s address. + +_What if Beebo’s already there?_ she wondered suddenly. _Oh, God!_ She +would be, of course. But Jack would save her somehow. Better to be with +him, even if it meant facing Beebo again. + + + + + 6 + + +Laura was right. Beebo went straight to Jack’s apartment. She stormed in +and beat noisily on his door until he opened it. + +“Christ in the foothills!” he exclaimed, pulling on the door and looking +into her wild furious face. She entered and slammed it behind her. + +“She’ll be over here in a few minutes,” Beebo said wildly, waving the +diary at him. “I haven’t read much of this but I’ve read enough to know +what a bitch she is. And you—you—” For once in her life Beebo was at a +loss for words. “You lousy crawling scum sonofabitch, you’ve been egging +her on! You’ve been putting ideas into her head—about leaving me.” + +She ranted hysterically at him, and Jack, although Laura had never +described her diary to him, began to get the idea in a hurry. + +“Where is she now?” he said quietly when he could get a word in +edgewise. + +“I don’t know, but she’ll be here before long. Whenever we have a +quarrel she drags her can over here as fast as she can move. You’re her +father confessor, her lover by proxy. She tells you everything. She only +lives with me.” She spat it at him enviously. “I’m her lover for good +and real but I’m not good enough to know what she thinks or what she +does. She saves that for you. I’ll kill her! By God, I will.” + +“Scram, Beebo,” Jack said. His low voice was in sharp contrast to her +own, loud and hard with wrath. + +“What’s the matter, isn’t my company good enough for you?” She turned on +him suddenly. He would have to take her threats till Laura got there; +she couldn’t hold them back. + +“It’s just that I don’t like prospective murderers,” Jack said. “They +make me nervous.” + +“You bastard! You holier-than-thou bastard! You think you’re so damn +superior because you’re still on the wagon. You _are_ on the wagon, I +can tell. You look so goddam sober it’s repulsive. Repulsive!” + +“That’s the word for it, all right,” Jack agreed. His compliant attitude +only goaded her further. + +“You hate me because Laura only comes to see you when she feels bad. She +_lives_ with me. But she doesn’t give a damn about you until she feels +bad. Then she comes running to good old Jack!” + +“Beebo,” he said and did not raise his voice. “When I lost Terry I did a +hell of a lot of drinking and hollering. I came and drank your whiskey +and told you my troubles and you listened to me. And it helped. Now +you’re welcome to my whiskey—there’s still a little in the kitchen—and +you’re welcome to cry on my shoulder. But you’re not going to murder +anybody, here or anywhere else.” + +“Only Laura,” Beebo said, and her voice was low now, too. + +“Nobody,” Jack said. “Now scram, or I’ll throw you out.” + +Beebo grabbed the lapels of his sport jacket. “She cheated on me, Jack. +You gave her the idea so don’t try to squirm out of it.” + +“Cheated on you with who?” + +“An Indian!” Her eyes were so big and her face so contorted that Jack +came very near laughter. + +“What tribe?” he asked carefully. + +“Not an _American_ Indian, you owl-eyed idiot! An _Indian_ Indian. A +dancer! Jesus!” And she lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “A _dancer_!” + +“Classical or belly?” + +“Oh, shut up! You think it’s funny!” She gave him a hard shove, but Jack +didn’t shove easily. He just stood his ground and surprised her. “It +doesn’t matter who she is, anyway,” she said and ran a distraught hand +through her close-cropped dark hair that waved and rolled around her +head and used to delight Laura. “What matters is, they’ve been sleeping +together and that cheeky little bitch—” + +“Which one?” + +“Jack, goddam you, quit interrupting me!” She paused to glare at him and +then said, “Tris. The dancer. She had the nerve to come over to the +apartment. Tried to tell me they met at the Hobby Shop. Oh, God!” And +she gave a despairing laugh. + +“Maybe they did.” He offered it unobtrusively. + +“Who’re you kidding?” Beebo snapped. “Laura _admitted_ she went to the +girl’s apartment.” + +“After you pounded it out of her.” + +Beebo held the diary out to him. “Read this, Jack. It’s all in here,” +she said. + +“Does it say they slept together?” + +“Damn right!” + +“Did you read it?” + +“No, but it’s in here,” she said positively, in the grip of the +spiraling violence that possessed her. “Jack Mann, college graduate, +engineer, former gay boy, former whiskey drinker, former human being. +Current know-it-all and champion bastard of Greenwich Village. _Read_ +it!” + +He shook his head without even glancing at it. + +“Are you too proper? Too moral? Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly developed +a conscience! After all these years,” she said. + +He shrugged. “Why read it? You’ve told me what’s in it.” + +“Maybe you’d like to know what she says about me.” He saw her face color +up again and a shivering clearly visible in her hands and he said, “No.” +But Beebo opened the diary, leafing through it for the worst slander she +could find. + +Jack took the book from her hands so suddenly that she let it slip +before she knew what he was up to, and then he socked her when she +reached for it, catching her on the chin. She reeled backwards and sank +to the floor. Jack leaned down and picked her up, hoisting her over his +shoulder. He carried her that way, head dangling in back and feet in +front, down the hall and out the door to the apartment building. + +There he set her dizzily on her feet. She hardly knew where she was and +let him hold her up. He found a taxi for her on the corner of Fourth and +Seventh Avenue and told the driver, “She’s drunk. It’s only a couple of +blocks, but I can’t take her home,” and handed him five dollars. “Take +her upstairs,” he said, giving him the address. “Apartment 2B.” + +He was headed up the steps to his apartment again when he heard Laura’s +voice calling him, and he turned around to see her running up the +sidewalk, hair awry and face like chalk. + +“Laura!” he exclaimed and caught her. She began to sob the moment she +felt his arms around her, as if she had only been waiting to feel him +for the tears to start. + +“Is she here?” she asked, and he could feel her quivering. + +“She left,” he said. “I just put her in a cab. Your timing is faultless, +Mother.” + +Laura looked at him out of big amazed eyes. “She’s gone? How did you do +it?” she asked. “What happened?” + +“Come on inside,” he said. He led her down the hall and in his kitchen +at last, with the front door locked and no Beebo anywhere around and a +comforting drink to brace her, she heaved a long sigh of relief. + +“Now,” said Jack, making himself some coffee. “Who is Tris?” + +Laura clasped her glass in both hands and looked into the whiskey for an +answer. “She’s a dancer—” + +“I know that part. I mean, are you sleeping with her?” + +“No!” Laura flashed. + +“Do you want to?” + +And after a pause she whispered honestly, “Yes.” + +“So Beebo’s not imagining things.” + +“She doesn’t have to,” Laura cried bitterly. “She’s got my diary.” + +“I saw it.” + +“Did you read it?” + +“No, but Beebo did.” + +“What did she say?” Laura’s throat had gone dry all of a sudden at the +idea of Beebo perusing those private pages, and she took a sip of her +whiskey. + +“She wants to solve the whole thing by murdering you.” + +“I think she would, too,” Laura said, unsurprised. “Oh, Jack, help me. +I’m scared to death.” + +“All right.” He came over, pulling his chair, and sat down beside her. +“Marry me.” + +Laura covered her face with her hands and gave a little moan. “Is that +all you can think of? Is that all you can say?” she said, and she +sounded a little desperate. “I’m in love with Tris, and Beebo wants to +_murder_ me and you want to _marry_ me. What good will that do? I might +as well be dead as married!” And she said it so emphatically that Jack +was stung. + +But he never let personal hurts show. + +“Mother, you’re in a mess,” he said. “Nobody has a perfect solution for +you. And you have none at all for yourself. So listen to one from an old +friend who loves you and don’t stomp on it out of sheer spite.” + +“I’m sorry,” she murmured, sipping the drink again. She let the tears +flow unchecked, without really crying. Her face was motionless, but +still the tears rolled down her cheeks, as if they had business of their +own unrelated to her emotion. + +“Tell me something,” Jack said gently, putting an arm over the back of +her chair and leaning close to her. And as always with him, she didn’t +mind. She liked his nearness and the fact that he was male and strong +and full of affection for her. Perhaps it was because she knew he would +never demand of her what a normal man would; because she felt so safe +with him and so able to trust him. “Tell me why you went to live with +Beebo two years ago,” he said. + +“I thought I loved her.” + +“Why did you think you loved her?” he asked. + +“Because she—well, she was so—I don’t know, Jack. She excited me.” + +He lighted a cigarette with a sigh. “And that’s love,” he said. +“Excitement. As long as you’re excited you’re in love. When it turns +flat you’re not in love. Lord, what a way to live.” + +Laura was taken aback by the selfishness she betrayed. “I didn’t mean it +that way,” she said. It had never seemed so cheap to her before. + +“Are you in love with Tris?” he asked. + +“I—I—” She was afraid to answer now. + +“Sure you are,” he said. “Just like Beebo. Fascinating girl. More +excitement. Beebo’s worn out now, let’s try Tris. And when we wear Tris +out, let’s find another—” + +“Stop it!” Laura begged. + +“Where’s your life going, Laura?” he asked her. “What have you done with +it so far? Does it matter a damn, really? To anybody but you ... and +me?” + +“And Beebo.” + +“Beebo’s more worried about where her next drink is coming from than she +is about you.” He knew it wasn’t true. He knew if it ever came to a +choice, Beebo loved Laura desperately enough to give up drinking. But +Jack was fighting for Laura now. + +Laura began to cry now, her face concealed behind her hands. “Please, +Jack,” she whispered, but he knew what he was doing. He had to make her +see it his way so clearly, feel the hurt so hard, that she would turn +away from the whole discouraging mess of homosexual life and come to +live with him far from it all. + +“Look at me, Laura,” he said and lifted her face. “We can’t think +straight because we always think gay,” he said. “We don’t know anything +about a love that lasts or a life that means something. We spend all our +time on our knees singing hosannas to the queers. Trying to make +ourselves look good. Trying to forget we aren’t wholesome and healthy +like other people.” + +“Some of the other people aren’t so damn wholesome either,” Laura said. + +Jack put his arms around her suddenly and pulled her tight against him +and said, “Let’s get out of it, Laura. Let’s run like hell while we have +a chance. We could get away, just the two of us. But we can’t do it +alone; we need each other. We could move uptown and get a nice apartment +and you wouldn’t have to work. We could get married, honey.” + +“But—” + +“Please, Laura, please,” he begged her. “Maybe we could even ... adopt a +child. Would you like that? Would you?” He sounded a little breathless +and he leaned back to see her face. + +Laura was startled. “I don’t know anything about kids. They scare me to +death.” + +“You’d get over it in a hurry,” he said. “You’re female. You have +instinct on your side.” + +“Do _you_ like kids?” + +“I love them.” + +“_I_ don’t. You’re more female than I am,” she said. + +He laughed. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” he said. “Seriously, +Laura—would you like a child? A daughter?” + +“Why not a son?” she asked him, sharp-eyed. + +“Okay.” He shrugged warily. “A son.” + +Laura slid back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. “I never even +thought about it before,” she said. “I just never dreamed I’d ever have +anything to do with a child of my own ... with _any_ child.” + +“Do you want one?” He seemed so eager that she was reluctant to hurt +him. But she couldn’t lie to him. + +“No,” she said. And when his face hardened, she added, “Because I’d be a +terrible mother, Jack. I’d be afraid of it. And jealous, I think. I’d be +all thumbs. I’d stick it full of pins and never be sure if I did it on +purpose or by mistake.” + +“You won’t always feel that way,” he said, and she knew from the tone of +his voice that there was no arguing with him. + +“Maybe not,” she said. “But if I marry you, Jack—” And they were both +startled to hear the words, as if neither had really expected Laura to +consider it seriously. “If I marry you, I wouldn’t dare adopt a child +for years. Not till I was sure we were safe together and the marriage +would last.” + +“It would. It will. Say yes.” + +“I can’t,” she said and drove him to his feet in a fit of temper. + +“Goddam it, Laura, do you want to grow _old_ here in the Village?” he +said. “Have you seen the pitiful old women in their men’s oxfords and +chopped-off hair, stumping around like lost souls, wandering from bar to +bar and staring at the pretty kids and weeping because they can’t have +them any more? Or living together, two of them, ugly and fat and +wrinkled, with nothing to do and nothing to care about but the good old +days that are no more? Is that what you want? Because if you stay here, +that’s what you’ll get. + +“Pretty soon you won’t know any other way of life. You won’t know how to +live in the big world. You don’t care a goddam about that world now when +you’re young. So when you’re old you won’t _know_ a goddam about it. +You’ll be afraid of it and of normal people and you’ll hide in a cheap +walk-up with a dowdy old friend or a stinking cat and you’ll yammer +about lost loves. Tempting, huh?” And he leaned on the kitchen table, +his eyes so bright with urgency that she couldn’t look at them and only +watched his mouth. + +“Horrible,” she said. + +He straightened up and shoved his hands in his pockets, and when he +started to speak again he was gazing out the window. “I want to get so +far away from here,” he said, “that—” + +“That Terry will never find you again,” she guessed. + +He dropped his head a little. “Yes,” he said. “That, too. Terry and Joe +and Archie and John and God knows who. We’d go way uptown and leave no +forwarding address ... nothing. Just fade out of the Village forever. No +Beebo, no Terry....” + +“No Tris,” Laura whispered. + +“I told you, Mother ... I’m no bluebeard. If you want affairs, have +them. You’re young, you need a few. Only keep them out of the Village +and keep them very quiet.” + +“Do you think Terry would really come looking for you again?” she asked. +“After the way you threw him out?” + +“There aren’t many men stupid enough to put up with his antics as I +did,” he said. “I think he might try to put the touch on me between +affairs.” + +“Damn him!” Laura cried indignantly. + +“Yes, he might try to find me. And Beebo would pace the city looking for +you. But let them. We’d be through with them forever.” + +And Laura felt a very queer unwelcome pang for Beebo, for all that +wealth of misdirected love. Jack was standing behind her now, his hands +on her shoulders. “Well?” he said quietly. “Will you marry me?” + +“Could I—answer you in the morning?” she asked. + +“What the hell will you do tonight?” + +“See Tris.” + +“Oh. And if she’s nice, it’s no to old Jack. If she’s bitchy, it’s yes. +Right?” He said it lightly but she knew he was hurt. + +“Not quite,” she said. “I want to test myself, I guess. Jack, for the +first time I feel almost—almost like saying yes. But I want to see her +first. Please let me.” + +“You don’t need my permission, Mother.” + +“Maybe Beebo’s found her already.” + +“Beebo’s in bad shape. I lay odds she sleeps it off for a while. Even if +she’s found Tris she won’t be in condition to do either of you much +harm. Just call a cop and say she’s molesting you.” + +Laura got up and turned to face him and they gazed at each other for +some minutes in silence. “Okay, Mother,” he said. “Go. And come back +_mine_.” + +She smiled and then she walked past him to the door. + + * * * * * + +Tris was at home giving lessons when Laura got there. She had evening +classes twice a week, for adults. She didn’t slam the door in Laura’s +face, but she gave her a black look and directed her curtly to sit down +and be quiet. Her delicate mouth was ever so slightly swollen. + +Tris went back to work and danced with her pupils for another forty +minutes without a word or a glance at Laura. It was lovely to watch. +There were only two students—a man and a girl—and they were learning an +intricate duet at Tris’s direction. They would execute what looked to +Laura like a perfect step and suddenly Tris would swoop down on them, +shouting temperamental criticisms. She finally made the man dance with +her, to give the girl the idea. + +Laura watched her fascinated as she leaped into his arms, straight and +smooth and beautifully sure of herself. And Laura realized slowly that +only when she danced with the man did Tris look over at her to see her +expression. + +_She’s trying to make me jealous_, Laura thought, and she was suddenly +weary; weary of all the envy and ill feeling and violence. She wanted +nothing more than to lie down quietly by Tris’s side, when the couple +had gone, and gently, without explanations or apologies, make love till +they both fell asleep. She knew if it happened like that—naturally and +easily and without pain—that she would stay with Tris. But she was +afraid that even if it were bitter and unhappy, she would stay anyway. + +And still, an angry core of resentment smoldered in her, resentment at +Tris for having the effrontery to walk in on Laura and Beebo and cause +the bitter outburst that had separated them. She was brooding about this +when Tris suddenly dismissed her dancers. + +The two went into her bedroom to change and Laura waited for Tris to +speak to her. But Tris only glared, performing a few indolent turns +until her students returned. Then she unexpectedly introduced them all. +She was curt, almost unpleasant about it. + +The young man smiled at Laura and said, “Never mind her, she’s bad +company tonight. Thanks, Tris.” And he gave her a strange look and left, +following the girl. + +Tris shut the door after them and turned to Laura. “The girl is +insufferable,” she said. “She can’t dance, and she is a vixen besides.” + +“The boy can dance,” Laura said, not without a jealous twitch. + +“Yes, he can. He can make love, too. And he does—when I don’t have +company.” + +She said it pointedly and Laura felt her whole face go a hot red. She +stood up without speaking and made for the door, her head swimming, but +Tris stopped her there by embracing her. Laura was in no mood for Tris’s +sudden turnabouts. + +“God damn you, let me go,” she exclaimed. + +“Tonight, I am grateful for the company,” Tris said. “He bores me.” + +“I’ve had all I can take from you, Tris. You split me and Beebo up +tonight—” + +“Ah, then I did you a favor, no?” and she smiled. + +“You damn near got me killed!” + +“She is not gentle, is she?” Tris said, releasing Laura to touch her +bruised mouth, but she was still smiling a little. + +“Gentle?” Laura exploded. “Beebo? Gentle like a tornado. Why did you do +it, Tris? _Why?_” + +Tris shrugged, walking away from her. “I felt like it. I don’t know why. +I wanted to see you. I wanted to see—well, I wondered what she was like +... Beebo.” + +“You’re incredible,” Laura breathed, furious, watching her saunter +suggestively toward her bedroom. + +“Are you coming with me?” Tris asked. + +And Laura felt her legs weaken and her heart jump, and she hated herself +for it. “No,” she said. + +“Of course you are. That is why you are here. Come.” + +And Laura, helpless, went to her. Tris took her hands and led her, +walking backwards herself, into the room and onto the low couch. She +began to kiss her and Laura felt her fury rise and change into passion. +Tris had never been so close to her, so tantalizing. + +Somehow her anger made her passion sharper and wilder. She wanted to +hurt Tris with it. Beebo believed they had made love, did she? Well, +Laura would give truth to her fantasies. + +Laura could feel Tris’s body begin to respond. A surging feeling of +triumph flashed through her. She felt the familiar, wonderful insanity +come over her and she relinquished herself wholly to feeling. It took +her a few moments to understand that Tris was fighting her. And suddenly +she came to herself with a shock and felt Tris slip away from her and +saw her standing a few feet from the bed. + +Tris gave her a look—almost of pity—and then turned and raced from the +room. By the time Laura reached the door, it was locked. At first she +was stunned, motionless. And then she began to throw her weight against +it. “Tris! Tris, let me out!” she cried in a panic. + +“Stay where you are till you cool off,” Tris said. Her voice was very +near, just on the other side of the door, and Laura was wild to join +her. + +“Please, Tris!” she implored and her voice was low with coming tears. +“Tris, don’t do this to me!” Her whole body ached and after a moment +more of futile beating on the door she slumped to the floor, moaning. + +A long time later she dragged herself off the floor and back to the bed +and lay there, sleepless, until early dawn. She was sick with the need +to hurt and the need for love all scrambled inside her; she was +imprisoned in her homosexuality and thinking ... thinking hard of Jack. + +The first daylight was coming in the window when Laura heard the door +open and saw Tris glide across the floor toward her. Laura smothered a +first harsh impulse to jump at her. Tris came on tiptoe, thinking Laura +would be asleep, and when she saw Laura’s blue eyes staring at her, she +was startled. + +Then she came and sat in silence on the edge of the bed and looked at +Laura for a while, until Laura, who was restraining herself tightly, saw +that Tris was crying. And the crying became suddenly audible and made +Tris cover her face with her hands. Laura lay beside her, refusing to +touch her, feeling her spite and misery soften a little, feeling even a +shade of pity. She wanted to beat the girl and at the same time stroke +her shaking shoulders. + +Tris turned her back to Laura and finally spoke with considerable +effort. “I’m going out on the Island tomorrow,” she said. “For two +weeks, a vacation. Come with me.” + +Laura stared at her back, frowning in disbelief. “What?” she said. + +“I want you to come with me,” Tris whispered. Her voice sounded, as once +before, quite American. + +“You must enjoy torturing me,” Laura said. + +There was a long pause while Tris snatched a piece of face tissue from a +box by the bed and blew her nose. Finally she said, “It was torture for +me, too. But still, it was inexcusable, what I did to you. I was a +beast. I—I can’t talk about it,” and she gave a quick sob. “But I +promise it will never happen again—if you promise never to mention it. +Promise?” And she turned and looked at Laura. + +“Why did you do it?” Laura asked. + +“I had to! I _had_ to! I wanted to hurt you—last night—you made me +feel—” and her speech was clipped again and careful—“you made me want +you so much, Laura. And I hate it! I _hate_ it!” She was almost +shrieking. + +“Why?” Laura asked. + +“Because I’m not really a Lesbian. Not like you. It’s men I love, Laura. +Really,” she added desperately. + +And Laura felt compassion for her. “You’re sick, Tris,” she said, but +she said it kindly. + +“Sick?” And Tris went a strange ashy color that scared Laura. “How do +you mean?” + +Laura realized then that she couldn’t destroy Tris’s illusion without +destroying Tris. She raised herself to one elbow and brushed away the +tears on Tris’s cheek. “Let’s put it this way,” she said. “If you feel +like this about me, we shouldn’t be together any more. In two weeks we’d +drive each other wild. I know you feel terrible about last night, Tris, +I can see it. I know I can’t forget you, or forgive what you did. If we +were living together, I’d want you and you’d hate me for it. And pretty +soon I’d hate you too, for denying me.” + +“I won’t deny you, Laura,” Tris whispered, without looking at her. “I +promise you. If you’d just let me do it my way. Don’t let it be like +last night. When I feel as if I’m losing control, it’s as if I were +drowning, as if I were losing my sanity along with my will. It’s as +if—if I let it happen—I—I’ll lose my mind.” She spoke so painfully, with +such evident anxiety, that Laura was touched. + +“Poor Tris,” she murmured, and smoothed her hair. “I thought I’d be +pulling your hair out this morning, not playing with it,” she said, +running her long fingers over the sleek black braid. + +“Come with me,” Tris pleaded. “Let me make it up to you.” + +“Where are you going? Fire Island?” + +“God, no!” Tris flared. “_That_ place! It’s crawling with queers. I +wouldn’t go near it.” + +“Tris ...,” Laura said, a little hesitantly. Her ear did not betray her. +Tris’s accent fluctuated strangely and roused her curiosity. She asked +cautiously, “What part of India do you come from?” + +“Why do you ask?” And Tris’s eyes narrowed. + +Laura lifted her shoulders casually. “You never told me.” + +“I said New Delhi.” + +“Oh, yes.” + +“Besides, it has nothing to do with the vacation. I’m going to a place +on Long Island. Stone Harbor. It’s not far from Montauk, on the north +side. I have a cottage there for two weeks. It’s very secluded. No one +will bother us. I was there last year and it’s really lovely. You’d like +it, Laura, I know you would. You can swim every day—we’re only two +blocks from the beach and—” + +“Tris?” Laura stopped the almost compulsive flow of speech and startled +the dancer. + +“Yes?” + +“Why won’t you tell me about India?” + +“You wouldn’t be interested.” + +“I’d be fascinated. Everything about you fascinates me. For instance, +what are you doing in this country?” + +“Dancing.” + +“Where are your parents?” + +“Dead.” + +“How did you get here?” + +“Scholarship.” + +“Are you a citizen?” + +“Laura, stop it! Why do you ask me such things? What has this to do with +our vacation? I refuse to be quizzed like a criminal. We’ll leave +tomorrow at eight. Can you be packed by then? I’ve rented a car.” + +“I can’t even get into my own apartment,” Laura admitted. “You fixed me +up just fine.” + +“Of course you can. Call the police.” Her odd green eyes flashed. + +“No. Maybe Jack could get my things. I’ll call him.” + +“Who’s Jack?” + +“Jack? He’s a—sort of—fiancé. A permanent fiancé.” She smiled slightly. + +Tris snorted. “Does he know you are gay?” + +“Of course.” She would tell her no more. If Tris were going to seal her +private life behind a wall of secrets, Laura could play it that way, +too. “Can I use your phone?” she asked. + +“Yes. In the kitchen.” Tris followed her across the empty studio into +the sunny blue and yellow kitchen and while Laura was dialing she asked, +“You will come, of course?” + +“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Laura said. “... Jack?” + +“Good morning, Mother.” + +“Jack, I wonder if you could—if you’d mind going over to the apartment +and getting my clothes. Do you think you could? I hate to ask you, but I +don’t dare go near her.” + +“Sure,” he said. “Did you pass your test?” + +“My test? Oh.” She glanced at Tris. “I—I flunked,” she said and felt a +tidal wave of pity and shame all at once. “Jack—I’m sorry. Oh, I’m so +sorry. Let me come over—” + +“Come get your clothes at five,” he said. “I’ll leave the door open.” +And he hung up. + +Laura surprised Tris by dropping into a chair and sobbing. Tris sat down +opposite her and waited in silence till she caught her breath, expecting +an explanation. But Laura only dried her eyes and asked for some coffee. + +Jack wasn’t home when she went to pick up her clothes. She had known he +wouldn’t be there, and still it made her want to weep. She was in a blue +mood, and even the sight of Tris, waiting for her outside at the wheel +of a rented convertible, didn’t cheer her up. She made several trips +with the clothes, leaving most of her other possessions behind, and on +the last trip she wrote him a note. It said, in part: + +_You’re the only man I would ever marry, Jack. Maybe it will still work +out. Tris wants me to spend two weeks with her on Long Island. I’ll call +you the minute I get back. I’m crazy about her, but she’s a sick girl +and I’ve had enough of wild scenes with sick lovers. I don’t know what +to expect so am leaving most of my things here. Hope they won’t be too +much in the way. I quit my job, by the way. Will find something else +when I get back. Thank you so much for everything, Jack darling. Hope +Beebo didn’t give you any trouble. Don’t start drinking, I’m not worth +it. I love you. Laura._ + + * * * * * + +The cabin had two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room, and a bathroom. +It was furnished à la 1935, full of sand and ants, but comfortable. The +walk to the beach was short and just enough to get you pleasantly warm +before you soaked in the salt water. + +There were a lot of other vacationers living all around them—young +couples with dozens of hollering kids, mostly. Laura watched them +romping on the sand, the little ones screaming and giggling and pouring +water on each other. She wondered if she could ever want a child. + +She lay on the beach with Tris, the day after they arrived, and +luxuriated in the sun. Tris had lathered herself lovingly with rich sun +cream and was sitting under a huge beach umbrella that she had erected +with the help of a young man they discovered while they looked for a +place to lie down. He was not very subtle about his admiration, which he +confined to Tris. And Laura was not very pleased to see her prance for +him. But she said nothing. + +“You’ll burn to a crisp, Laura,” Tris warned her. + +“I put some stuff on,” Laura said lazily, wiggling a little and feeling +the hot rays toast the backs of her legs. + +“Not enough for one so fair,” Tris maintained. “Such fair skin you +have.” And Laura heard the yearning in her voice. “If mine were that +light I would never expose it like you do. I’d do everything to keep it +as light as I could. Even bleach it. They say buttermilk works wonders.” + +Laura looked up at her through eyes squinted against the sun. “Your skin +is beautiful, Tris.” + +“Oh, not like yours,” Tris said, embarrassed. + +“How can you say that? You’re the prettiest color I ever saw.” + +“And you’re a dirty hypocrite!” Tris snapped. + +Laura stared at her, dumbfounded, for some seconds, before she answered +softly, “No, I mean it.” She was afraid to say more. “You think I only +say it to flatter you, don’t you?” she asked finally. “I won’t say it, +then. I’d rather you turned your temper on yourself than on me.” + +After an elaborately casual pause, full of much smoothing lotion and +gazing around, Tris said, “Do you really like my color?” The little-girl +pleading in her voice touched Laura. + +“If I say yes, you call me a liar. If I say no you call me a bigot.” + +“Say yes.” + +“Yes.” And Laura smiled at her and Tris smiled back and gave Laura the +feeling of false but sweet security. + +Tris said, “Did you ever notice, when we lie on the bed together, how we +look?” + +Laura finished, “Yes, I noticed.” She looked at Tris in surprise. It +wasn’t like her to mention such things. “Me so white and you so brown. +It looks like poetry, Tris. Like music, if you could see music. Your +body looks so warm and mine looks so cool. And inside, we’re just the +other way around. Isn’t it funny? I’m the one who’s always on fire. And +you’re the iceberg.” She laughed a little. “Maybe I can melt you,” she +said. + +“Better not. The brown comes off,” Tris said cynically, but her strange +thought excited Laura. + +“God, what a queer idea!” Laura said. “You’d have to touch me everywhere +then, every corner of me, till we were both the same color. Then you’d +be almost white and I’d be almost tan—and yet we’d be the same.” She +looked at Tris with her squinty eyes that sparkled in the glancing sun. +And Tris, struck herself by the strangeness of it, murmured, “I never +thought of it that way.” + +Laura hoped Tris would look at it that way for the rest of the vacation. + + + + + 7 + + +Jack walked into his apartment at five-thirty in the afternoon, tired +and thirsty but dolefully sober. He was a stubborn man and he had +dedicated all his resistance to fighting liquor. He meant to head for +the kitchen and consume a pint of cider and fix himself some dinner. +Since Laura had left five days ago he had not had much appetite. He did +not admit that she would ever come back or that he had lost a battle. It +was only a temporary setback. But it rocked him a little and it hurt him +a lot. + +He came wearily down the hall, stuck his key belligerently into the lock +and kicked his front door open. He dumped a paper bag full of light +bulbs, cigarettes, and Scotch tape on a chair, switched on a light and +started toward his kitchen. It came as a distinct shock to find Laura +sitting on his sofa. + +He stared at her. She had her legs up, crossed, on the cocktail table, +and her head back, gazing at the ceiling. She knew he was there, of +course; she heard him come in. She turned and looked at him finally, and +something in her face dispelled his melancholy. He felt elated. But he +checked it carefully. He slipped his coat off without a word, dropped it +on the chair with his package, and walked over to her, standing in front +of her with his hands in his pockets. + +“Run out of suntan lotion?” he said. + +“No. But you’re out of whiskey.” + +“I gave it to Beebo. Traded it for your clothes.” + +“Take the clothes back and get the whiskey.” + +“Later,” he said, and smiled. Then he added, “Was it bad?” + +“Very bad,” Laura said and for a moment they both feared she would start +crying. But she didn’t. + +“Want to tell me?” + +“Jack,” she said with an ironic little smile. “You’ll have to write a +book about me someday. I tell you everything.” + +He grinned. “I’ll leave that to somebody else. But I’m saving my notes, +just in case.” He sat down beside her. “Well, it could only be one of +three things, seeing that she’s gay,” he said. “She’s a whore.” + +“No.” + +“A junkie.” + +“No.” + +“—or she’s married.” + +“She’s married.” + +He lighted a cigarette with a long sigh, his eyes bright on her. + +“How did you know?” she asked. + +“I didn’t. But it had to be something that would shock you. And you seem +pretty damn nervous about the idea of gay people being married.” He +paused and she had to drop her glance. “Does she hate him?” he asked +returning to Tris. + +“Most of the time. God, Jack, I need a drink.” + +“Steady, Mother. My neighbor always has a supply. I’ll fix you up.” He +came back in less than three minutes with a bottle of sparkling +burgundy. + +“Ugh!” Laura said. But she took it gratefully. + +“Now,” he said, settling down on the cocktail table with a cup of +instant coffee, “begin at the beginning.” + +Laura rubbed her forehead and then sipped the prickly drink. “It started +... beautifully,” she said. “Like a dream. It was all hot sand and cool +water and kisses. We held hands in the movie, we sat up till all hours +in front of the fireplace with a bottle of Riesling and sang, and +danced. We traded secrets and we made plans. We made a boat trip to the +point—” + +“Did you make love?” + +“You just can’t wait, can you?” she said, half teasing, half irritated. + +“My future may depend on it,” he said and shrugged. + +There was a long reflective pause and finally Laura said, sadly, “Yes. +We made love. Only once.” + +“And that was the end?” + +“It wasn’t that simple. You see, she—well, she flirted. She flirted with +men until I thought I couldn’t stand it. Till I wanted to flirt myself +to get even, if only I weren’t so damn awkward with men. She’s not. +She’s a genius with them. She didn’t give a damn if they were married or +not. She had them all proposing to her. + +“After the first couple of days it got intolerable. She had been making +me sleep on one bed and she took the other. And after she turned the +lights out she made a rule—no bed hopping.” + +“And you obeyed her little rule?” + +“I had to, Jack,” she defended herself. “We had a sort of agreement +before we left the Village.... It was supposed to be up to her to choose +the time and place.” + +“That’s the lousiest agreement _you_ ever made, Mother,” he commented. + +“No. She’s sick, you see. Really. She thinks she’s straight. And if you +hint she’s not, she gets terrified. Almost hysterical. She can’t accept +it.” + +“Why do you always fall for these well adjusted ladies?” he asked. + +“Beth was well adjusted.” + +“Beth is dead. As far as you’re concerned.” Laura glared at him while he +smiled slightly, lighting another cigarette from the one he was +finishing. “So Tris is a queer queer,” he said. “And she flirts with the +opposite sex. Very subversive. So what came next?” + +“Well, they followed us home—” + +“Who?” + +“Men!” she flashed peevishly. “They followed us at the beach, in the +bars, in the stores. They followed _Tris_, I should say. I was cold as +hell with them. I tried to keep quiet about it, but after three days of +it I blew up. We had a miserable quarrel, and I was ready to pack up and +leave right then. But she relented suddenly. I don’t know why. I think +she really likes me, Jack. Anyway, she got drunk. Just enough so that +she wouldn’t have to watch what I did to her ... or hear what I said to +her ... or care too much....” + +“That’s pretty drunk,” Jack said. He knew from the way she spoke that it +had hurt her to make love like that, wanting so much herself, and +herself so unwanted. “I know, Laura honey, I know the feeling,” he said +and the words comforted her. + +“Jack, I hope I always love you this much,” she said softly. + +He looked up from his coffee cup with a little smile. “So do I,” he +said. And they looked at each other without speaking for a minute before +she went on. + +“Well,” she said, “it was torture. I didn’t want it any more than she +did, if it had to be so cold and sad, and at the same time I _had_ to +have her. I was on fire for her. I have to give her credit, Jack, she +tried. But it didn’t mean anything to her.” + +“It’s a lonesome job,” Jack said. “And it’s never worth it.” + +“I cried all night,” Laura said. “Afterwards ... I just got in my own +bed and cried. And she was awake all night too, but she didn’t come to +me or try to comfort me. I think she was embarrassed. I think she just +wished she’d never gotten mixed up with me. + +“The next night—around dinner time—her husband arrived. I don’t know +whether she got sick of me or just scared and called him, or if they got +their dates scrambled and he came too soon. You see, it turned out she +had planned to meet him out there all along, after I left. But maybe I +got to be too much for her and she told him to come and chase me out.... +I don’t know. There wasn’t time to go into the fine points. But I think +myself she needed a man just then, to make herself feel normal. And +protected.” + +“What was he like?” + +“A nice guy. He really is. I know I sound—Tris would say—hypocritical. +But I liked him. I understood right away, the minute I saw him, an awful +lot of things about Tris.” + +“How?” + +Laura paused, gazing seriously at Jack. At last she explained, “He’s a +Negro. And so is she. Only he’s much darker than Tris. Very handsome, +but he’d never pass as an Indian. And right away he humiliated her, +without meaning to.” She smiled sadly. “She’s from New York, Jack. She +was born right here and her name is Patsy Robinson. She’s only seventeen +but they’ve been married two years. She makes him keep out of sight +because she thinks he’d be a drag on her career. That’s why she tells +everybody she’s Indian, too—because she wants to get ahead and she +thinks it makes it easier.” + +Jack shook his head. “I feel for her,” he said. + +“And I weep for her,” Laura said. “You should have seen her, Jack. She +was wild when Milo talked about her fake Indian past. I think it made +him pretty damn mad. That, and all the flirting, and having to live +apart. And her gay and him straight! Lord, what a mess. He’s in love +with her; she’s his wife. And she denies him, and hides him.” + +Laura stopped talking then for a little while, sipping the burgundy and +staring at her feet. “I took the bus back,” she said at last. “She +screamed at me to leave. Milo apologized for her. That poor guy.” + +“Do you still think you love her?” Jack asked. + +“I don’t know.” She sighed. “She fascinates me. I feel sick about it, +about the way things happened. If I thought I could stand it I’d go back +to her. But I know I couldn’t. What is love, anyway, Jack?” + +“‘If you have to ask you never get to know,’” he quoted. “More?” He +reached for her glass and she relinquished it with an unsteady hand. She +felt completely lost, completely frustrated. + +“What’s Beebo doing?” she asked. + +He picked up the bottle and poured some more wine into her glass. “All +kinds of things,” he said. “She got fired, of course. Hadn’t showed up +for weeks.” + +“Of course,” Laura repeated, bowing her head. + +“She’s shacking up with Lili at the moment.” + +“Ohhh,” Laura groaned, and it made her feel dismal to think of it. She +felt a spasm of possessiveness for Beebo. “Lili is a terrible influence +on her,” she said irritably. + +“So are you.” He handed her her drink. “The worst.” + +“Not _that_ bad.” + +“Life with you,” he reminded her, “damn near killed the girl.” + +“And me,” Laura replied. “Did she leave the apartment?” + +“No, she gets over there from time to time.” + +“I wonder how she pays the rent.” + +“It isn’t due yet,” he said. “Besides, I imagine Lili can help out.” + +Laura shut her eyes suddenly, overwhelmed with a maddening tenderness +for Beebo. “I hate her!” she said emphatically to Jack. And he, with his +uncanny ear for emotion, didn’t like the emphasis. + +After a slight pause he said, “I got her a dog. Another dachshund pup.” + +“That was nice of you,” she said to him in the tone mothers use when +someone has done a kindly favor for their children. + +“Beebo didn’t think so. She didn’t know whether to kiss it or throw it +at me,” he said. “She finally kissed it. But the poor thing died two +days later ... yesterday, it was.” + +“It died?” + +“Yes.” He looked at her sharply. “I think she ... shall we say—put it to +sleep?” + +“Oh, Jack!” she breathed, shocked. “_Why?_ Did it remind her of Nix?” + +“I don’t know. It didn’t cheer her up, that’s for damn sure.” + +Laura sat there for a while, letting him fill her glass a couple of +times and listening to the FM radio and trying not to feel sorry for +Beebo. “She doesn’t really need me any more, Jack,” she told him. + +“I do,” he said, and she smiled. + +“You didn’t fall off the wagon,” she said. “I’m so glad. I was afraid +you might.” + +“I never get drunk over the women in my life,” he said sardonically. +“Only over the boys. And there are no more boys in my life. Now or +ever.” + +Laura swirled the royal purple liquid in her long-stemmed glass and +whispered into it, “Do you think I could make you happy, Jack?” + +“Are you proposing, Mother?” + +She swallowed and looked up at him with butterflies in her stomach. +“Yes,” she said. + +He sat quite still and smiled slowly at her. And then he got up and came +to her and kissed her cheeks, one after the other, holding her head +tenderly in his hands. + +“I accept,” he said. + + * * * * * + +The day was hot and muggy, one of those insufferably humid August days +in New York. Laura and Jack waited together outside the office of Judge +Sterling Webster with half a dozen other sweating, hand-clasping +couples. + +Jack wasted no time when Laura said yes. As fast as arrangements could +be made, they were made. Laura stayed with him in the Village apartment +a few days while they hunted for another apartment, cooking for him and +getting the feel of living with him. During the days, when he was out, +she went uptown. This was Jack’s idea. He had no intention of making his +bride a sitting duck for Beebo. It was only for four days, anyway, and +much to Laura’s surprise, Beebo made no attempt to reach her. + +They had found the apartment on the east side two days after Laura got +back from the disillusioning sojourn with Tris. It was too expensive, +but it was newly renovated, lustrous with new paint, elegant with a new +elevator, and bursting with chic tenants. + +“We can’t afford it,” was Laura’s first comment, to which Jack replied, +smiling, “You’re beginning to sound like a wife already.” + +And now, here they were, waiting on yellow oak chairs in the hall, while +one couple after another passed in and out of the judge’s office with +the classic stars in their eyes. + +Laura, who was sitting quietly in her chair, said, “They all look so +happy,” and drew courage from the fact. + +“They’re scared witless,” Jack said, pacing up and down in front of her. + +“Jack!” Laura exclaimed, appalled. “They’ll hear you.” + +“Ours will be a happier marriage than any of these,” he said with a +contemptuous wave of his hand. He sat down suddenly beside her. “Ours +could be damn near perfect, Laura, if we work at it a little. You know +that? We won’t have to face the usual pitfalls. Ours will be different +... better.” + +“I hope so, Jack,” she said in a near whisper, and a little thrill of +passionate hope went through her. + +“Will you try, honey?” he asked. + +“I will. With all my heart I will.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “I +want this to work, Jack, as much as you do. I’ll give it all I’ve got. I +want terribly for it to be right.” And she meant it. + +“Then it will,” he said and his smile gave her a needed shot of +confidence. + +Laura had had some bad nights since she said yes to him. Awful hours of +yearning for Tris had tormented her. Stray unwelcome thoughts of Beebo +had hurt her even more. + +There were the lonely times when she thought about herself and Jack, so +different, so dear to each other, and wondered if marital intimacy might +not ruin it all with its innocent vulgarity. She tried to imagine Jack +shaving in the morning ... the toilet flushing ... his wrinkled pajamas, +still warm from sleep, tossed on the floor ... his naked loneliness +mutely reproaching her. The idea of living with a man ... a _man_ ... +made her think of her father, her huge heavy domineering father, with +his aggressive maleness stamped all over his body. + +But for the most part, Laura tried not to think at all. She let Jack do +her thinking. She let Jack make the plans. She let Jack take her by the +hand and lead her where he deemed it best for her to go. And, trusting +him, she went. + +So here they were outside Judge Sterling Webster’s door with its glass +window and neatly stenciled name, and they were next in line. Their +predecessors in the marriage mill were slower than the rest, or so it +seemed. And by the time they came out Jack was very nervous. + +He herded her in ahead of him, and Judge Webster, as dignified and +antique as his name, stood to greet them with an extended hand. + +In less than five minutes he pronounced them man and wife and they +signed the certificate of marriage. Jack turned to Laura and kissed his +tall and trembling young wife on her cheek. He gave the Judge ten +dollars, and then he took Laura’s arm and steered her out again to let +the next impatient couple take over. + +Laura had to sit down for a minute on one of the limed oak chairs and +cover her face with her hands. Jack leaned over her and said, “You’re +setting a lousy example, Mother. Every female here is watching you and +figuring me for a wife-beater. Come on, Mrs. Mann.” + +She looked up and saw him grinning at her, and it gave her a lift. She +grasped his hand and let him pull her to her feet. He was beaming, and +Laura had to smile at all the nervous cynicism of half an hour ago. + +They went straight to the apartment to rest for a while before they went +out to dinner. Jack had made reservations for them at the Stork Club. + +“We’ll have a proper honeymoon at Christmastime,” he said, when they +reached the house on East Fifty-third. “I’ll take a month off then. I +have it coming.” + +Ignoring Laura’s protests, he insisted on carrying her across the +threshold. He swung her up easily, to their mutual pleasure. + +“Jack, I think you’re the world’s worst sentimentalist,” she teased him +when he set her down, but he denied it at once. + +“God forbid!” he said. “I just don’t want anything to go wrong. We’re +going to do it all right, right from the start.” + +“And you’re superstitious.” + +He laughed with delight. “Laura,” he said and came to take her hands. +“I’m so happy. You’ve made me so happy.” + +“I haven’t done a thing, yet,” she said, wondering a little at him, at +his uncontainable good spirits. + +“You’ve married me. That’s something,” he said. “I’m a married man. God +Almighty, think of it!” + +“If you were any prouder you’d explode,” she giggled. + +“I just may,” he said. And they gazed at each other with a huge, +wordless approval and relief. + +“This calls for a celebration,” he said suddenly. “I got a little +something—” + +“Oh, Jack, no drinking,” she said. “I don’t have to have a drink, +really. I don’t want you to get started.” + +“No nagging on our wedding day,” he said and produced a bottle of +champagne from the refrigerator. He poured her a glassful and himself a +swallow. “Medicinal,” he explained, and they toasted each other. He made +her drink all of hers and kept pace with her with ginger ale. “I feel so +good, by God, I don’t even need it,” he said, and laughed. + +Laura watched him affectionately. She had never seen him so animated, so +happy. He glowed with it. He was almost handsome, with his brilliant +eyes and his proud smile. It made her feel a little like crying, and she +stopped him in the middle of a delirious tirade of compliments to say, +“Jack, please. You embarrass me. I’m afraid I won’t live up to it all.” + +“Oh, but you will. I’ll beat you if you don’t,” he said, laughing, and +kissed her cheek. And she caught his hands and kissed them. + +“You’d think we were a couple of normal people,” she said. + +He sobered a little, sitting down on the floor in front of her. “They +have no monopoly on happiness, Mother. We have a right to our share. We +have a chance now. We can make something beautiful of it together.” He +stopped and chuckled at himself. “I sound like a bad poem,” he said. +“But I mean it. I have so many wonderful plans, so many hopes.” And the +thought of that bright-eyed little girl he had cherished for so long +danced into his head. + +Laura couldn’t look at his face. She got up and went to lie on her bed. + +They stayed up very late and Laura had too much champagne and Jack had +too much ginger ale, and they talked endlessly and held one another’s +hands tightly. And the next day they slept until four in the afternoon +and got up smiling to treat Laura’s hangover and make the beds and shop +for groceries together. And Jack introduced her to the butcher with, +“Meet my wife. She’s a doll.” + +Laura blushed crimson and the butcher laughed at them and tried to sell +them some oysters. “You want kids? Buy oysters,” he advised. “Never +fails. I know, I got eight.” + +It was smooth and sweet the first few months; smoother than either of +them had dared to hope. Laura was naturally mild and yielding; Jack, +efficient and good-humored and terribly proud of her. As soon as they +had enough chairs and crates collected to seat a fair number of guests, +they threw a party and Jack’s office staff came to wish them well. + +None of them knew he was a homosexual. Jack was a past master at +deception. “You have to be if you’re going to survive in the world,” he +said to her once. “It’s either that or retire into a rotten little +prison with the rest of the gay people and spend your life feeling sorry +for yourself. No thanks, not for me. Sex rules my nights. But by God, as +far as the world knows, I’m a normal man from dawn to dusk. And there +isn’t one guy in that office who’d question it.” + +She admired him for it. Her own vagrant sensuality had dominated her +ever since the fatal day she first recognized it, and her efforts to +hide it or deny it had always backfired sooner or later. Jack filled her +with determination to make herself a part of what he called “the real +world,” the _straight_ world. He made it seem very desirable to her for +the first time. + +Jack’s office buddies brought their wives, except for two dauntless +bachelors who spent the evening berating Jack for treason. + +“Are they gay?” Laura asked him in a whisper. “The unmarried ones?” + +“Not gay, just scared,” he said. “Winslow is, though. That one over +there with the gorgeous wife. Poor guy, I don’t think he knows it. They +aren’t very happy.” And he nodded at the suave young man in his early +thirties with a stunning and rather bored young woman beside him. Laura +looked at the girl without a trace of desire and felt a quiet little +spark of triumph. The future looked bright if she could be around so +lovely a woman without even a hungry glance. + +The autumn months passed uneventfully, and they got used to each other, +and most of their worst fears abated. Jack never wandered around the +apartment naked, out of instinctive respect for Laura. He did drop his +socks all over the floor and leave his dresser drawers open. But he +never lost his temper. He took her out to dinner once or twice a week, +and he brought her flowers and books and pretty things that caught his +eye in the windows of the stores he passed. + +And he loved her. It sustained Laura through her low hours of doubt and +confusion. She was the weak one of the two, and they both knew it. There +were times when Jack had to be strong enough for both of them; times +when Laura would cling to him weeping and tell him it was all a horrible +mistake and she couldn’t live without Tris, no matter how godawful it +would be. + +And then he didn’t argue with her. He only said, “If you have to go, go, +but come back. I want you here tonight at dinner time. I want you here +in the morning when I get up. There’ll be women in your life, I’m +prepared for that, honey. Tris won’t be the last. But there’s only one +man, and there will only be one man and don’t you ever forget it.” + +He sounded so sensible and firm to her that her unrest would disappear. +Now and then, when she was not in a passion for Tris, they talked about +it. And she would say, “I know it’ll happen one of these days, but I +won’t let it hurt us, Jack. When I can think about it like this, +rationally and without fear, I know I can handle it. I won’t panic when +the time comes. I’ll just accept it as quietly as I can. I won’t let it +touch our marriage.” + +“Good girl,” he said and squeezed her arm. + +There was no sex between them. Neither of them wanted it, and that was +the way they planned it. Jack would make her take his arm when they went +anywhere because he was proud of her. And he gave her a friendly peck +when he left in the morning and when he came back at night. When she was +frightened or depressed he held her and stroked her hair and talked to +her the way she had always prayed her father would. And he liked to lie +with his head in her lap and have her read to him before they went to +bed. + +But that was the limit of their physical contact. It was affectionate +and gentle but utterly sexless. After the first few weeks, Laura began +to like it. She had been shy at first and reluctant. But he didn’t force +her, and after a while she welcomed his little gestures of love. They +spelled security and reassurance to her. Suddenly it occurred to her +that Jack was a man who was taking care of his woman. And she relaxed. +She felt her nerves ease and her tension relax. The apartment was quiet +and pretty, and Laura, who was lazy as a cat for the first time in her +life, felt like a princess. + +They felt a mutual gratitude toward each other. Jack came home for the +first time in his life to a warm kitchen and a charming young wife. And +just the thought of Laura reminded him, with a deep fine thrill, that he +was married; he was truly a man. It was worth a lifetime of homosexual +adventures. + +Laura went to pains to please him, to show him that she cared and that +she was working to make things right as she had promised him. And they +were, all things considered, happy. + + * * * * * + +It wasn’t until Terry’s letter came, forwarded from Jack’s old address +in the Village, that Laura felt even the slightest apprehension that +anything was to go wrong. And the note was postmarked San Francisco and +seemed so far away that she recovered promptly from the first shock and +sat in the kitchen with the rest of the mail on the table in front of +her, wondering what to do. + +Laura and Jack had made a strict rule never to open each other’s mail +and never to ask prying questions. But Laura hated to think of the turn +it would give Jack to have this ghost from his past rise up to haunt +him. + +She turned and looked out the window at the sparse snow, falling that +first day of December, and played with Terry’s letter, letting it slip +from corner to corner through her fingers. She burned with curiosity. + +_I could just steam it open_, she mused. _He’d never know the +difference. Damn that Terry anyway! Who does he think he is! After the +hell he put Jack through, he has a lot of nerve. I’ll bet he wants some +money._ + +She could bear it no longer. She got up and went to the stove, where she +had a kettle full of hot water left over from breakfast, and turned the +heat on under it. The glued flap of the envelope surrendered to the +steam in a quiet curl. Laura held the letter a moment longer before +opening it, feeling very guilty. But she loved Jack and she felt a +fierce desire to spare him more pain. Besides, her curiosity was +smothering her. She rationalized that Jack had told her himself he had +given up the gay life forever, and that included Terry. What if this set +him to drinking again? + +She sat down and pulled the letter out with nervous hands. It was rather +a short note, folded twice, and she opened it and read it quickly. It +was not dated. + + “Dear Jack. Have been out here in S.F. since September. What a crazy + town. You’d love it. Have a nice apartment on Telegraph Hill with a + kid I met at a party a month ago. (Not the same one you beat up the + night you kicked me out.)” + +_God! He just has to rub it in. He’s just the kind of guy to mention +such a thing_, Laura thought, hot with indignation. + + “Don’t know how long I’ll be out here. I sort of miss the Village. + And you. Why don’t you come out for a visit? We’ve got lots of + room.” + +_He doesn’t seem to realize it would damn near kill Jack_, Laura +thought. _He’s hopeless. It never occurs to him that Jack would go crazy +in a situation like that. Or does it?_ + +Laura was used to the idea of Terry as a good-natured scatterbrained boy +who hurt people, mostly Jack, with monotonous regularity—largely because +he didn’t think about what he was doing. Usually, this was true enough. +But the rest of his letter made her wonder if he weren’t deliberately +needling Jack, trying to get him to come out to the coast. + +She continued to read the tidy blue ink script. + + “I do miss you, lover. I was always so unsettled before we met.” + +_Before, after, and during_, Laura fumed. + + “And now it’s worse than before. I used to feel so safe and + comfortable with you, like you’d always watch out for me, no matter + what. I guess that’s a selfish way to look at it, but I wish we were + back together. If you by any chance want it that way too, write to + me. Write to me anyway, I really want to hear from you. Love, + Terry.” + +He signed his name with an elaborate flourish, like a fifth-grade child +drunk on the possibilities of fancy penmanship. + +Laura folded the letter and stuck it back in the envelope and wrote a +brief sizzling note in answer. She said: + + “Terry—Jack and I are married. You are not welcome here, now or + ever. Jack asked me to write and tell you that he does not want to + be bothered with any more letters from you and he will not answer + any if you do write. Please leave us alone. Laura.” + +It sounded sharp and cold, and she had a momentary feeling of misgiving. +Terry was a nice kid, in spite of it all. Everybody liked him, even +Laura. But she couldn’t risk having him torment Jack. It had to sound +mean or he wouldn’t believe it. She put the note in an envelope, sealed +and stamped it, and copied his San Francisco address on it. Then she +burned Terry’s letter over the stove. + +When Jack came home that evening Laura’s note was in the mail and +Terry’s was in ashes in the wastebasket. + +“Any mail?” he asked her. + +“Just a bill from the laundry,” she said. + +But it bothered her. It came to her at odd moments and it seemed ominous +and frightening to her, like the first sign of a break-up. She had +broken her promise to him, and it didn’t help much to tell herself she +did it only to protect him. _I’m not going to let anybody hurt what +we’ve got, least of all Terry Fleming_, she thought. + +The thought of having it all end between her and Jack, suddenly and +cruelly, in one big drunk on Jack’s part or wild romance on hers, scared +and depressed her. It mustn’t end that way. They needed each other too +much. Their marriage had helped them think of each other as normal. They +felt as if they knew where they were going now and life was much better. + +Laura missed women. She missed them desperately sometimes. But she was +sure now, deep within herself, that the time would come when she and +Jack would be secure with each other for the rest of their lives; when +they would be able to trust each other without reservation and trust the +strength of their union. When they reached that point, it would be safe +to satisfy her desires. + +As for Jack, he was through with men forever. He had said it and she +believed him. The thought that he might take a lover himself some day +never occurred to her. It just wouldn’t happen. Nor had she asked him +about Terry. Jack was so determinedly happy with her that she was afraid +to mention Terry. + +It seemed strange to Laura, however, that Beebo didn’t try to find her. +She might have found them, one way or another. But there was no word +from her. Laura couldn’t help wanting to know what she was doing. She +didn’t feel the old, urgent, painful need for Tris, but there was a +persistent want that was strong enough to make her wince now and then. + +Jack told her once, “If anything bothers you, tell me about it. Don’t +sit around letting it eat you up. Better to talk about it and get it out +of your system.” + +And when he saw that she was pensive he made her talk. But when he +didn’t see it, she kept it to herself. There were times when Laura +couldn’t share her feelings, when she just hugged them to herself and +brooded. + +Several times she had nearly talked herself into going down to the +Village to wander around. She wouldn’t go near her old apartment. Or +Tris’s studio. Or even Lili’s apartment. She wasn’t a fool, she wouldn’t +risk being caught. + +But she was tempted, sometimes almost hypnotized, by the idea. + + + + + 8 + + +It was Christmas Eve. They had a fine big tree, freshly green in a sea +of lights and tinsel. No honeymoon, as they had hoped; the office +couldn’t spare Jack. So they had a party instead. + +“I hate those damn pink trees,” Jack had said when they picked theirs +out. “Or gold, or white, or whatever-the-hell color they’re making them +this year. Give me a nice healthy green.” + +They celebrated at the party and Jack drank eggnog without whiskey and +Laura was very pleased with him. There was a lovely girl there—unmarried +and probably gay. Laura flirted with her in spite of herself. + +Jack teased her about it when they met briefly in the kitchen—he to make +drinks and she to get more hors d’oeuvres from the refrigerator. “Looks +like you got a live one,” he said. + +Laura blushed. “Was I too obvious?” she asked, scared. + +“No,” he said. “I just have X-ray eyes, remember?” + +“I shouldn’t—” + +“Oh, hell,” he said with a good-natured wave of his hand. “Flirt, it’s +good for you. Just don’t elope with her.” He gave her a grin and went +out, holding five highballs precariously. She felt a flush of love for +him, watching him. + +It was three a.m. Christmas day before they got rid of everybody. Laura +threw herself in their expensive new sofa and surveyed the wreckage with +a sigh. + +“I’m not even going to pick it up,” she said. “I’m not going to touch a +thing till morning.” + +“That’s the spirit,” Jack said. He fixed them both a cup of coffee, +settled down beside her in the rainbow glow of the Christmas tree and +took her hand with a sigh of satisfaction. + +“That’s the first goddam Christmas tree I ever had,” he said. And when +she laughed he protested solemnly, “Honest. And this is the first +Christmas that ever meant anything to me.” He turned his head, resting +against the back of the sofa, and smiled at her.... + +“You shouldn’t swear at Christmas,” Laura told him. + +He gazed at her for a while and then asked, “Are you in love with +Kristi? Wasn’t that her name?” + +“Yes, it was her name. No, I’m not in love. With anybody.” + +“Me?” + +“Oh, you. That’s different.” + +She smiled a little and sipped her coffee, and then she leaned back on +the sofa beside him, absorbed in the soft sparkle of the tree. + +Jack was still watching her. “Laura?” he said in an exploratory voice. + +“Hm?” + +“What would you think of adopting a child?” + +She stared at a golden pine cone, her face suddenly a cautious blank. “I +don’t know,” she said. + +“Have you ever thought about it?” + +“A little.” + +“What did you think?” + +“I told you. Kids scare me.” + +He bit his underlip, frowning. “I want one,” he said at last. “Would you +be willing to—_have_ one?” + +“You mean—” She swallowed. “—get pregnant?” + +“Yes,” he said, smiling at her outraged face. “Oh, don’t worry, Mother. +We’d do it the easy way.” + +“There is no easy way!” she fired at him. “What way?” + +He took a long drag on his cigarette and answered, “Artificial +insemination.” She gasped, but he went on quickly, “Now before you get +your dander up let me explain. I’ve thought it all out. Either we could +adopt one, or—and this would be much better—we could _have_ one. Our +own. We can tell the Doc we’ve had trouble and let him try the +insemination. There’s nothing to it, it doesn’t take five minutes. It +doesn’t hurt. And if it worked ... God! Our own kid. You wouldn’t be +afraid of your own, honey.” + +There was a long pause while Laura sweated in silent alarm. Why did he +bring it up tonight? Why? When they were so contented and pleased with +each other, and the world was such a place of glittering enchantment. + +“Couldn’t we wait and talk about it later?” she asked. + +“Why not now?” + +“Couldn’t I have time to think about it?” + +“Sure. Think,” he said and she knew he meant, _I’ll give you five +minutes to make up your mind_. + +“Jack, why do we have to do it right now? Why can’t we wait? We’ve only +been married five months.” + +“I can’t wait very long, Mother,” he said. “I’m forty-five. I don’t want +to be an old man on crutches when my kid is growing up.” + +“Maybe in the spring,” she said. The idea of becoming a mother terrified +her. She had visions of herself hurting the baby, doing everything +wrong; visions of her old passion coming on her and shaming them all; +selfish thoughts of her beautiful, new, leisurely laziness being ruined. + +“What would I ever tell any child of mine if it caught me—with a woman?” +she said awkwardly. + +“Tell it for Chrissake to knock before entering a room,” he said, and +something in his voice and manner told her that he had set his heart on +this long ago. + +“Would you _insist_ on having a baby, Jack?” she asked him defiantly. + +He was looking at the ceiling and he expelled a cloud of blue smoke at +it and answered softly, “I want you to be happy, Laura. This marriage is +for both of us.” + +There was a long silence. “I think I would hate myself if I ever got +pregnant,” she said, ashamed of her vanity but clinging to it +stubbornly. “God, how awful. All those aches and pains and months of +looking like hell, and for what? What if the baby weren’t normal? What +if I couldn’t be a good mother to it?” + +He shrugged and then he said, “All right. We’ll adopt one. That way at +least we can be sure of getting a girl.” + +Laura wrung her hands together in a nervous frenzy. The last thing she +wanted to do was hurt Jack. And yet she could feel the dogged +one-mindedness in him, feel his enormous desire. + +“A man needs a child,” he said softly. “So does a woman. That’s the +whole reason for life. There is no other.” And he glanced up at her and +all the Christmas lights reflected on the lenses of his glasses. “We +can’t live our lives just for ourselves,” he said. “Or we live them for +nothing. We die, monuments to selfishness.... I want a child, Laura.” + +“Is that why you married me?” she asked with sudden sharpness, feeling +as if he had cornered her. + +“I married you because I love you,” he said. + +“Then why do you keep badgering me about a child?” she demanded. + +“This is the first time I’ve mentioned it since we got married,” he +reminded her gently. + +“You act as if just because _you_ want one it’s all settled,” she said, +and surprised herself by bursting into tears. He took her in his arms, +abandoning his cigarette, and said, “No, honey, nothing’s settled. But +think about it, Laura. Think hard.” + +They sat that way, hugging each other and watching the Christmas tree, +letting the cigarette slowly burn itself out, and they didn’t mention it +again. But from that moment on it was very big between them, unspoken +but felt. + + * * * * * + +Jack did not mention a child to her again for a while. But as the weeks +slipped by Laura began to feel a growing dissatisfaction. She didn’t +know where it came from or what it meant. At home, in the apartment, it +was shapeless. Outside it took the shape of girls. When she went out for +groceries or to shop or to have dinner with Jack, she found herself +looking around hopefully, gazing a little too boldly, desiring. Jack saw +it too before long, but he said nothing. + +Laura felt selfish, and she didn’t like the feeling. She blamed it on +Jack. It made her want to get away from him for a bit. And soon the wish +crystallized in her mind to a desire for the Village, and began to haunt +her. + +She knew she ought to tell Jack she wanted to go. He would never stand +in her way, as long as she was there at night to cook his meals and be a +fond companion to him. As long as she let him in on it and kept it +clean. + +But she was embarrassed. She didn’t want to tell him and see his +disappointment and know she was so much weaker than he. So she kept it +secret and let it fester inside her until it had grown, by March, to a +great, irritating problem. + +Then, one fine, sunny morning in the first week of spring, the phone +rang. + +_It’ll be Ginny Winston_, she thought. One of their neighbors. _She’ll +want to go shopping again. I guess we might as well, it’ll keep me out +of trouble._ Ginny was thirty-five, a widow, a nice girl but hopelessly +man-happy. + +Laura grabbed the receiver after the fourth ring. “Hello?” she said. + +“Laura? How are you?” + +“Fine, thanks. Who’s this?” + +“Terry.” + +“Terry who?” She gasped suddenly. “Terry! Terry Fleming?” + +“Yes.” He chuckled. “Guess how I found you?” + +She hung up. She just slammed the phone down in place and stood there +shaking. Then she sat down and cried, waiting for the thing to start +ringing again. She had no doubt it would. + +It did. She picked it up again, and before he could say anything she +told him, “I don’t care how you found us. I don’t want you around here. +Don’t you come near this place Terry, or I’ll—I don’t know what I’ll do. +You can’t, you mustn’t. Do you hear me?” + +“Yes,” he said, astonished. “What’s the matter?” + +“Didn’t you get my letter?” she asked him. + +“Sure. You’re married. Congratulations, I always thought it’d happen. +You got a great guy there, Laur. I wish I had him.” And he laughed +pleasantly. + +“Terry, you’re incredible,” she said. “I don’t want you to come near +Jack. That’s final.” + +“Go on,” he laughed. “I thought I’d come over this afternoon.” + +“You can’t!” She felt as she did in nightmares when she tried to talk +and no one could hear her. She felt as if all her words fell on deaf +ears. + +“Sure I can. I thought we’d—” + +“Look, Terry, I’m not going to tell him you’re in town,” she said, +fighting a nerve-rasping frustration with him. “I’m just going to let it +go, and I’m telling you right now that if you show up over here it’ll +hurt him more than he can stand. You broke his heart and that should be +enough for you. You won’t get any more of him!” She felt fiercely +protective and loving, now that their life together seemed threatened. +She would fight Terry every way she knew. And yet she had to admit to +herself that Terry had more to fight with than she if it ever came to a +showdown. That was why it was so important to keep him away. + +Jack was a very sensual man and he had been deeply in love with Terry. +He still was, in spite of everything. His love for Laura was different; +strong, she was sure, but could it stand up to a sudden white-hot blast +of passion? + +“You sound real bitter, Laura,” Terry said reproachfully. “I thought you +were sort of kidding in your letter.” + +“I’ve never been more serious, Terry. Stay away from us!” She hung up +again. When she took her hand away there was a ring of wet on the black +handle. She cried all day, feeling angry and helpless. + +Jack got home at five, but she told him nothing. She was gentle and +solicitous with him in a way he had missed for a couple of months. She +read to him and she chatted with him, and underneath it all was a +tremulous fear of disaster that made her feel a great tenderness for +him. He seemed vulnerable to her. If she betrayed him she would embitter +him more than she was able to imagine. The thought was terrifying. + +“Mother, you need a change,” he said when they had finished dinner. + +“I do?” + +“Leave the dishes and scram.” + +She felt a little spark of fear. “Are you kicking me out?” she asked. + +“I sure as hell am, you doll,” he said. “Get thee hence.” + +“Where?” His laughter relieved her. + +“The Village. Where else?” And when she stared at him, wordless, he +added, “You need it, honey. You’re nervous as a cat. Go on, have a +ball.” + +“You’re kidding!” + +“I’ll give you three minutes to get out of here,” he said with a glance +at his watch. + +Laura hesitated for a few seconds until he looked at her over the top of +the paper again and then she ran, heels ringing staccato on the polished +wood floor of the hall, and got her coat and purse. On the way out she +stooped to kiss his cheek. + +“Jack, I adore you,” she whispered, to which he only smiled. At the door +she turned and said, “I’ll be home early.” + +“No curfew,” he said solemnly. + +Laura went first to the Cellar, a favorite hangout in Greenwich Village. +The tourists had begun to stop there by this time, but the gay crowd +outnumbered them still and it wasn’t primarily a trap. The prices were +reasonable and the decor smoky. + +Laura settled at the bar with a sigh of sheer pleasure. All she wanted +to do was sit there quietly and look at them ... those lovely girls, +dozens of them, with ripe lips and rounded hips in tight pants or smooth +skirts. And the big ones, the butches, who acted like men and expected +to be treated as such. They were the ones who excited Laura the most, +when it came right down to it. Women, women ... she loved them all, +especially the big girls with the firm strides and the cigarettes in +their mouths.... She realized with chagrin that she was thinking of +Beebo. + +_God, what if she’s here?_ she thought with a wonderful scare running up +her spine. She looked around, but Beebo was nowhere in sight. + +_I wonder if she has a job, poor darling. I wonder if Lili’s still +supporting her. I wonder if she’s still drinking so much ... if she +thinks of me at all.... Oh, what’s the matter with me? What do I care? +She nearly drove me crazy!_ + +She thought of Tris suddenly, of that marvelous fragrant tan skin. In +fact she indulged in an orgy of suggestive thoughts that would have +driven her crazy cooped up at home. But here, surrounded with people who +felt and thought much as she did, it was all right. It was safe somehow. +She could even spend the evening flirting with somebody, if anybody +caught her eye, and it would come to no harm. Just a night’s outing. +Nothing more. + +_Tris ... Tris ... she would never show up in a place like this. She’d +shun it like the plague. All the same it would be nice. So nice._ + +But the harder Laura concentrated on Tris the more insistently Beebo +obsessed her. Laura shrugged her off and ordered another drink. She +laughed a little to herself and said, _But I don’t love her at all any +more._ And she turned to talk to the girl beside her. + +The girl was very charming: small and curly-headed and pretty, and she +laughed a lot. And soon Laura was laughing with her and learned that +Inga was her name. But that face, that damned face of Beebo’s, strong +and handsome and hard with too much living, kept looking at her through +the haze of Inga’s cigarette. + +“Did you ever have somebody plague your thoughts, Inga?” she asked her +abruptly. “Somebody you’d nearly forgotten and weren’t in love with any +more, and never really were in love with?” + +“What’s her name?” Inga asked sympathetically. + +“Oh, nobody you’d know.” She was fairly sure Inga _would_ know, if she +frequented the Cellar. If she’d hung around the Village long enough +she’d know most of the characters by sight, if not personally. Beebo was +one of the characters. And she had been around here for fourteen years. +“How long have you lived down here?” Laura asked the girl. + +“Two years next month.” + +_Long enough_, Laura thought. + +“I’ll bet I know her. She ever come in here? Come on, tell me,” Inga +said. + +“I can’t.” + +“You’re silly, then. I’ll clue you in on something, Laura. If you can’t +get her off your mind it’s because you can’t get her out of your heart. +That sounds corny but it’s true. I found out the hard way. Believe me.” + +Laura shook her head. “I never loved her,” she said positively. + +“You’re fooling yourself, sweetie.” + +Laura looked at her, bemused. “I’m in love with somebody else,” she +said, thinking of Tris. + +“Me?” Inga grinned. + +“No. No, an Indian girl.” + +“Indian? What’s her name?” + +“Tris.” + +“Tris! Gee, I _do_ know her. She comes in here a lot.” + +Laura stared at her, too shocked to answer for a minute. Finally she +said hoarsely, “Tris would never come in here. She hates gay bars. I +know that for a fact.” + +“Well....” Inga looked as if she knew she had put her foot in her mouth +and regretted it. “Maybe it’s a different Tris.” + +“What’s her last name?” + +“Robischon, or something. Something Frenchy. I think she made it up +myself. But she’s a gorgeous girl. I was really smitten when I saw her.” + +Laura blanched a little and ordered another drink and drank it down +fast, and Inga laid a hand on her arm. “Gee, I’m sorry, Laura,” she +said. “Me and my big mouth. I should learn to shut up. But I’m in here +all the time. I come in after work and I see just about everybody—” + +“I know, I know. It’s okay, Inga.” She ordered another drink. “I’d +rather know than not,” she said. “Besides, I haven’t seen the girl for +eight months. It’d be pretty strange if nobody found out about her in +eight months. She’s beautiful.” + +“That she is. Somebody’s found out, all right. A lot of people, I hear.” + +“Does she come in here alone?” The whole thing seemed incredible to +Laura. Tris! So aloof, so chilly, so much better than the rest of the +gay crowd. Tris, who wouldn’t go near Fire Island for a summer vacation +because it was “crawling with queers.” It just couldn’t be. But Inga +certainly wasn’t describing anybody else. + +“She comes with somebody else,” Inga said reluctantly. “Look, sweetie, +why don’t you come over to my place and have a nightcap. We can’t talk +in here.” + +“I’d like to know, Inga. Tell me. Who does she come in with?” Laura +turned and looked at her, swiveling slowly on her stool, a little tipsy +and feeling suddenly as if the situation were something of a joke. + +“Oh ... a big gal. Been around the Village for years. You might know +her. Beebo Brinker’s her name.” + +Laura sat there frozen for nearly a minute. It _was_ a joke—colossal, +cruel, hilarious. She laughed uncertainly and ordered another drink. + +“I knew you were going to say that,” she told Inga. “Isn’t that the +damnedest thing? Isn’t that the goddamnedest thing?” And she began to +laugh again, repeating, when she could get her breath, “I knew you were +going to say that.” Inga had to slap her face to stop the shrieking, +irrepressible giggles that were strangling her. Then Laura’s laughter +changed, in the space of a breath, to tears. + +Inga talked to her quietly with that odd intimacy that springs up +between homosexuals in trouble, and it helped. After five or six minutes +Laura wiped her eyes and drank her drink and let Inga help her out of +the Cellar. A few curious eyes followed them and Laura prayed again that +nobody she knew had seen her. + +The cold air braced her a little, and she stood on the corner weaving +slightly and trying to get her bearings. + +“Come on,” Inga said. “Let’s get some hot coffee into you. I live just a +couple of blocks from here. Come on.” + +Laura let herself be led by the diminutive curly-head, but when she saw +they were headed for Cordelia Street she began to get scared. “Beebo +lives near here,” she said, hanging back. “I mean—she used to.” + +“She still does,” Inga said. “I see her now and then. I live right over +there.” She pointed. + +Laura brushed the girl’s hand from her sleeve and turned to her. +“Thanks, Inga,” she said. “Thanks anyway, but I think I’ll....” And her +eyes wandered back into Cordelia Street. + +Inga followed her gaze, catching the idea. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” +she said. “You’ll be real sorry the minute you get there.” When Laura +didn’t answer she asked, “Tell me, which one of them is it?” + +“Which one?” + +“That you just can’t get off your mind?” + +Laura looked back up the street where she used to live and said softly, +“Beebo. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Beebo. And it’s Tris I’m in love with.” + +“Yeah,” said Inga with kindly skepticism. “Sure.... Have some coffee +with me?” + +Laura leaned over on a whim and kissed her cheek. “That’s for being a +woman,” she said. “You don’t know what a help it’s been.” + +Inga stood on the corner and watched Laura walk away from her. “Any time +you want that coffee, Laura,” she called. “I’m in the phone book.” + + * * * * * + +Laura stood in front of the door into her old apartment building for a +long while on trembling legs before she turned the knob and walked in. + +_What if they’re together?_ she wondered. _They’ll just grab me and +wring my neck. God, all those questions Tris used to ask me about Beebo. +And it never entered my love-sick head!_ + +She crossed the little inner court to the second door, opened it, and +went to the row of mailboxes to press the buzzer. She found Beebo’s +name, with her own crossed out beneath it but no other added. And a +weird, wonderful panic grabbed her throat at the thought of Beebo. + +She left the buzzer without pressing it and walked up the flight of +stairs to stand in front of the door that had once been her own, with +Beebo still swimming before her eyes. + +She could picture her more and more clearly: wearing pants and going +barefoot, tired at the end of the day and maybe a little high; a +cigarette in her mouth and a towel tied around her middle while she did +dishes or cleaned up the apartment; the smooth skin on her face and the +handsome features that used to fire Laura’s imagination and make her +tingle; the tired eyes, blue and brilliant and somehow a little sick of +it all ... except when they focused on Laura. + +Laura remembered how it had been and a sudden flash of physical longing +caught her heart and squeezed until she felt her breath come short. She +stared at the door, afraid to knock and still hypnotized with curiosity. +Her hand was raised, quivering, only inches from the green painted wood. + +_Tris will open it_, she thought, _and together they’ll strangle me_. +Oddly, she didn’t care. She was too tight to care. She had a vision of +herself falling into their arms and succumbing without a struggle. Just +letting them have her life, her mixed-up, aimless, leftover life. + +She knocked—a quick scared rap, sharp and clear. And then stood there on +one foot and the other, half panicky like a grade-schooler nearly ready +to wet her pants and flee. + +Footsteps. High heels. From the kitchen, Beebo’s voice. “Who the hell +could that be? After ten, isn’t it?” _Oh, that voice! That husky voice +that used to whisper such things to me that I can never forget._ + +The door swung open all at once, ushering a flood of light into the +hall. Laura looked up slowly ... at Lili! The two of them stared at each +other in mutual amazement for a moment. And while they stared, mute, +Beebo called again, “Who is it, Lili?” + +Lili, her candy-box pretty face overlaid with too much makeup, as usual, +broke into a big smile. “It’s Laura!” she exclaimed. “I’ll be goddamned. +_Laura!_” + +For a tense moment Laura could feel Beebo’s shock across the rooms and +through the walls like a physical touch. Then her courage melted—fizzled +into nothing like water on a hot skillet, and she turned and ran. + +She heard Beebo at the door, before she got out into the court, saying, +“Let her go, Lili. If she thinks I’m going to chase her twice—” And that +was all Laura got of it. It shot through her heart like a bullet. + +Laura reached the door to the street, tore it open, and rushed out. But +once there, with the door shut behind her and no sound of pursuing +footsteps, she collapsed against the wall and wept. Between sobs, when +she could get her breath, she listened ... listened ... for the running +feet that would mean Beebo had changed her mind. Laura had to believe, +at least for a minute, that Beebo would come after her. Because it was +all tied up in her mind with Beebo loving her. If Beebo loved her she’d +chase her. It was that simple. And it didn’t matter a damn what Laura +might have done to Beebo in the past, or how she might have hurt her. + +_Tris!_ she thought. _I’ve got to see her!_ She said this to herself +very urgently, but curiously, at the same time, she felt no desire to go +and find the lovely tormented dancer. She told herself it would be all +fight and misery. But in her heart of hearts she knew that real love +would brave that misery now, being so close and so starved for passion. + +She stood there for fully fifteen minutes before she was able to pull +herself together and walk to Seventh Avenue. She went straight home in a +cab. + +Laura walked slowly up the stairs to her apartment. It was after eleven +now, and Jack would be in bed. She had had too much to drink, but she +was sober, a tired, bewildered sort of sobriety that made her want to +lie down and weep and rest. + +In the morning she would tell it all to Jack. Wonderful Jack. He would +coax her back to living, coax her with his wit and his compassion and +his incredible patience with her. And she would lie in a welter of +dejection and let him work on her until she felt like lifting her head +from the pillow and raising the shade from the window and going on with +life. It was one of the things she loved him for and needed him for the +most—this ability to revive her when she was so low that only death was +lower. + +Tonight was perhaps not quite that bad. But it was bad enough to have +exhausted her. And Tris and Beebo! That had been the cruelest blow; the +one she should have foreseen clear as a beacon in a black sea. She +shoved a trembling key into the lock and walked into the apartment. + +It was warm and well-lighted. It was pretty and it was comfortable. It +was home. And Laura felt a sort of gratitude to Jack that needed words. +She went to find him. But he wasn’t in the living room, nor in the +bedroom. + +She stood on the threshold of the bedroom and said, “Jack? Hey, Jack! +Where are you?” + +“Here,” he said from the kitchen. + +“Oh. It’s me. I thought you’d be in bed.” She slipped her coat off while +she walked through the living room to find him. “Hi,” she said. He was +sitting on a kitchen chair and he answered, “Hi.” + +Laura stood in the doorway and looked at him. And he stared back at her, +and she knew something was wrong but she didn’t know what. Her long fine +hair had come loose when she ran from Beebo and she reached up and +pulled it down in a shimmering cascade, watching Jack all the while +through narrowed eyes. + +“Have fun?” he asked. + +“Beebo and Tris ... are ... shacking up.” She threw it at him +point-blank. She wanted his sympathy. + +Jack put his head back and laughed, that awful bitter laugh she hadn’t +heard for months, and she knew with a sudden start of fear and pity that +he was drunk. “That makes everything perfect,” he said, still laughing, +his eyes wicked and sharp behind the horn rims. + +“Jack ...,” she said shakily, coming in to sit beside him and seeing now +the whiskey bottle on the table in front of him, two-thirds empty. +“Jack, darling.” She took his hands and her eyes were big with alarm. + +Jack took his hands back. Not roughly, but as if he simply didn’t want +to be touched. Not by Laura, anyway. + +“Mother, you are a living doll. If I had known you could keep secrets so +well I’d have told you a few,” he said. He spoke, as always when he was +drunk, with a slow precision, as if each word were a stepping stone. + +“Secrets?” Laura said. + +“You are the living picture of guilt, my dear,” he said. “It is written +all over your beautiful face.” + +Laura put her hands over that face suddenly with a gasp. “Terry!” she +sobbed through clenched teeth. “_Terry!_ If I hadn’t gone out he +wouldn’t have come.” + +“He comes when the mood hits him,” Jack said. “Which is most of the +time, most anywhere. It had nothing to do with you going out, my little +wifey.” + +Laura looked up, her delicate face mottled pink and white and wet from +the eyes down. “He wrote—” + +“Indeed he did. He told me the whole romantic story.” + +“Jack, darling, I only kept it secret because I was afraid you’d—you’d +start drinking, or something—I—” + +“You hit the nail on the head. I’m indebted to you. Your solicitude is +exemplary.” He waved the fast-emptying bottle at her. + +“Oh, shut up! Shut up! I _love_ you. I did it because I love you.” + +“You opened my mail because you love me?” He continued to drink while he +talked ... slowly, but steadily. + +“I knew it was from him, Jack. I just had a feeling. The handwriting and +everything.” + +He laughed ruefully. “Just think what you’ve spared me!” he said. “I can +drink in peace now. My wife loves me. Thanks, wife.” He saluted her. + +Laura slid off her chair to her knees and put her arms around him, still +crying. “Jack, Jack, please forgive me. I’ll do anything, I couldn’t +bear to hurt you, I’d die first. Oh, please—” + +“You’re forgiven,” he interrupted her. “Why not?” And he kept on +laughing. But his pardon was so light, so biting, that she cringed from +it. She lifted her face to him, streaming with tears, and he said, +smiling at her, “You make a lovely picture, Mother. Sort of +Madonna-like. If I could paint you, I’d paint you. Black, I think. From +head to toe.” + +She put her head down on his knees and said softly, “You’ll never +forgive me, will you?” + +“I already have.” + +“Never,” she whispered, stricken. + +“Oh, let’s not get maudlin,” he said. “I admit I would have been +grateful for a little forewarning. But after all, it’s a simple question +of sex. Maybe I should get rid of mine. That would solve everything.” +And his soft, insane chuckling underlined everything he said. + +Laura felt terror then. It rose and fell inside her like nausea. +Whenever she looked at Jack it surged in her throat. It wasn’t the sweet +guilty thrill of coming near Beebo that had cost her such sensual pain +earlier in the evening. + +“Jack, darling,” she said. + +“Yes, Laura darling.” And the sarcasm burned her. But she went on, +determined, raising herself back into her chair again with effort. + +“Tell me what happened. Tell me everything.” + +“Oh, it was dandy,” he said. “You should have been here. Incidentally, +he asked about your health.” Laura couldn’t watch him while he talked. +She looked at her hands. And all the while he told her about it she kept +thinking, _If only I hadn’t gone out tonight. Every time I do something +completely selfish I suffer for it. And so does he. Damn Terry! Damn him +to hell! He won’t ruin Jack, I won’t let him. This is once he won’t have +his way._ + + * * * * * + +It had been so completely unexpected, so startling, that Jack would +never forget it or recover from it. Terry was as far removed from his +life as if he were dead. And his life, Jack felt, had become a good +thing at last. He had Laura to live for, not a wild, irresistible, +good-for-nothing boy who wore him out and broke his heart and his +bankroll. He had a new stature in the world as a married man, a new +security. And the sweet hope of a child someday.... + +When he heard the bell ring, almost an hour after Laura had gone out, he +took it for a neighbor and stood with the front door open while the +elevator ascended. But when Terry stepped out, Jack was speechless. He +couldn’t believe it, and he would have slammed the door and passed it +off as a nightmare if he could have moved a little faster. + +But Terry caught him and from then on it was as degrading and +overwhelming as it had ever been. Jack put up the best fight he could, +but it was little more than a gesture of protest. He was helplessly +angry, helplessly infatuated. And all the while Terry prated to him of +San Francisco and the Beats and the fog and the styles in clothes and +the styles in love-making, Jack kept wondering, _How did he find me?_ +And the answer was, had to be, _Laura_. Laura had failed him. Betrayed +him. It almost tore him apart. + +Terry didn’t leave until nearly eleven, and Jack saw him out, still with +the feeling that it hadn’t happened, that it was all an incredible +dream. It wasn’t until he got the bottle and began to drink that he +believed in it at all. By the time Laura got home he wished the whole +damned world to hell, with himself first in line. + + * * * * * + +“And that’s all,” Jack said. “Naturally, the only thing to do after he +left was get drunk.” He had nearly finished the bottle and it was all he +could do to get the words out. They left his mouth slowly, discreetly, +each one a pearl of over-articulation. + +Laura took away what was left—a shot or two at the most—and he didn’t +even try to protest. She helped him up and half dragged, half carried +him to the bedroom, where she dumped him on his bed. He was unconscious +the minute she pushed his head down on the pillow. Laura undressed him, +tears running down her face. + +“Sleep,” she said. “Sleep and forget it for a while. I’ll make it up to +you, darling. All I wanted tonight was to cry on your shoulder. And you +can’t even hold yourself up.” + +She dragged and shoved and pulled until she got him under the covers. +“He won’t get you, Jack,” she whispered. “You’d fight for me if I were +in trouble. And I’ll fight for you.” + + * * * * * + +In the morning, Laura got up, moving softly as a bird on the sand, and +left him to himself in the bedroom, still noisily and miserably asleep +with a full-blown, brutal hangover brewing under his closed eyes. + +She had to make it up to him, redeem herself. And she could only think +of one thing. So before noon she called Terry and asked him to dinner. + +“Sounds great,” he said in innocent surprise and pleasure. “I was +counting on mooching from you,” he admitted, laughing. + +When Jack woke up she told him what she had done. She waited until he +had had four cups of coffee and eight aspirins and some forced warm milk +and raw egg. He said nothing but “No. No! _No!_” to whatever she was +trying to get into him. He sat in the kitchen with his head in his +hands, and Laura began to fear he was still a little drunk. She had +thrown out the rest of the whiskey. + +“Where’s the bottle?” he asked her finally, around the middle of the +afternoon. + +“Gone. I tossed it.” + +He nodded painfully, resigned. + +“Jack,” she said softly. “Terry’s coming to dinner.” + +He lifted his throbbing head to gape at her. “Are you trying to kill me, +Mother? Or just drive me nuts?” he said. + +“I’m going to save you. Save _us_,” she said passionately. “We’re at the +crossroads, Jack. This is the first real crisis we’ve had. We can’t just +fall apart. We have too much to save, too much worth saving. We have +love, too, and I’m not going to let him hurt you any more.” Somehow in +the strength she found to fight Jack’s battle was the strength to fight +her own. The downright shock and humiliation of finding that her two +ex-lovers were romancing might have thrown her into a full-blown +depression. But now she hadn’t time. It was Jack’s turn. She loved him, +she was absolutely sure of that. She was not absolutely sure she loved +Tris any more. Nor was she sure now that she _didn’t_ love Beebo. Jack +was her security, her chosen life; he deserved her loyalty. + +But to her chagrin, her noble speech had very little effect on him. He +got out of his chair with much agonized effort, making a face, and +headed for the coat closet. + +“Where are you going?” she asked anxiously, running after him. + +“For a bottle.” + +“Oh, Jack, no!” + +He turned to face her, sliding awkwardly into his coat sleeves. “Do you +want me to go through this sober?” + +“Darling, you don’t even have to _look_ at him! You can lock yourself in +the john and sing hymns if you want to. I just want to talk to him.” + +“About the weather?” + +“I’ll get him out of here, I swear I will!” + +“How? With a can opener? TNT?” He was moving toward the door as he spoke +with Laura clinging to his arm and trying to hold him back. + +“Darling, trust me!” she begged. She was not at all sure that she could +get Terry out again, once he got in, but she had to make Jack calm down. +She was frantic to stop him. + +“Trust you?” He turned and looked at her uncertainly, his hand on the +front door knob, and gave a little snort. “That doesn’t work. I tried +it.” + +“Oh, you damn, fatuous idiot!” she cried in exasperation, dropping his +arm to stamp to the middle of the room and face him from there as if +from a podium. “I open _one_ goddam letter—out of love and anxiety—to +spare you pain. And the thing backfires. Do you have to crucify +yourself? I said I was sorry and I am. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, +I’m sorry!” she yelled. + +“Were you born that way?” he snapped. + +“Shut up and listen!” she cried. “Jack, let me make it up to you, let me +_try_. You have no right to call yourself my husband if you won’t give +me a chance, and I’m telling you right now, Jack Mann, if you won’t I’ll +walk out of this house and your life forever.” She paused, flushed and +trembling, for breath, while Jack stared at her, surprised, +half-convinced, and himself trembling slightly from the hangover. + +Finally he went to the arm of the nearest chair and sat down and said, +“All right, Wife. Read him the riot act while I sing hymns in the +bathroom, if you think it’ll do any good.” + +“Oh, Jack.” She ran to him, all pity and tenderness, and kissed his +frowning face. He put his head back and ignored her. + +Terry arrived at seven, half an hour late, with a huge bouquet of roses +for Laura. “For Mrs. Mann,” he said, bowing, and then gave her a quick +embrace. “You look great, honey.” + +“Thanks,” she said with reserve. “I’ll put them in water.” + +“Where’s Jack? Oh, there you are.” Terry made a running jump to the +couch where Jack was lying in state, wearing his hangover like a royal +robe. + +Jack let out all his breath in a wail of anguish when Terry hit him. + +“Where did you get the flowers?” Laura asked, coming back in with them +arranged in a tall vase. + +“Nick’s. On the corner. I had to charge ’em to you, Laur. I hope you +don’t mind.” He smiled charmingly. “Your credit’s much better than mine +around here.” + +Jack laughed softly. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” he said to +Terry. + +Laura sat down and looked at Terry’s bright young face, smiling happily +around a mouthful of salted pecans, and wondered if her little trick +would work. It had to. But it might not. She felt a little sick, seeing +Jack so miserable. + +“No drinks?” Terry said, suddenly conscious of the lack of alcohol. + +“Milk,” Laura offered. + +“Milk punch?” he asked. + +“Just bare milk,” Jack drawled. + +“What’s the matter with you?” Terry said and laughed at him. “Have a +nut.” And he popped one in Jack’s half open mouth. “You aren’t on the +wagon, are you?” + +“I was,” Jack said. “Till last night.” + +“No kidding. God. Amazing. Since when?” + +“Since we got married last August. A little before.” + +“Laura, how’d you do it?” He grinned at her. + +“I didn’t have to,” she said. “The day you walked out of his life all +the good things walked in.” + +“Including you?” Terry asked. + +“Including me,” she shot back. + +“Oh.” He smiled ruefully. “I wasn’t _that_ bad, was I?” he asked Jack. +He seemed to think it was comfortably funny, like everything else +connected with Jack. “Did I drive you to drink, honey?” he said. + +“Only on the bad days,” Jack said. “Unfortunately, there weren’t any +good days.” + +Terry laughed and stuck another nut in Jack’s mouth. + +“That’s all,” Jack told him, wincing. “The damn pecans sound like depth +charges when I chew.” He stroked his head carefully. + +There was a silence while Terry ate, Laura stared at him nervously, and +Jack concentrated on his pains. Laura wanted to make Terry +uncomfortable, self-conscious. But it was nearly a lost cause. + +“What’s for dinner?” he asked suddenly, unaware that he was supposed to +notice the silence. + +She told him. + +“Great,” he said. More silence. Laura was determined to embarrass him, +and Jack was too ill to care about conversation. Slowly, Terry began to +realize something was amiss. Rather than take the hint he tried to +lighten the atmosphere with chatter. + +“How do you like the married life, old man?” he asked. + +“He liked it fine the day before yesterday,” Laura said crisply. Jack +groaned. Terry understood. + +He sat up and leaned toward his hostess. “Laura, honey, I don’t want to +mess things up for you,” he said. “I just love Jack, too, that’s all. +You know that. You always knew it, even before you got married.” + +“I know you nearly killed him,” she said quietly. + +“No fair exaggerating.” + +“No fair, hell. It’s true!” she exclaimed. + +“It’s not either!” he said with good-humored indignation, as if they +were playing parlor games. “Is it, Jack?” + +But Jack, his eyes on Laura now, kept silent. + +“Well,” Terry admitted, “I was pretty bitchy sometimes. But so was he. +And no matter what, we loved each other. Even at the end, when he kicked +me out.” + +“If he hadn’t kicked you out that night he might have killed himself +with liquor.” + +“I don’t believe it.” + +Laura threw her hands up, exasperated. “What more do you _want_ from +Jack, Terry?” she said. “What do you want from _me_?” + +Terry grinned. “Equal time,” he said, nodding at the bedroom. + +Jack laughed weakly and Laura got up and stamped her foot. “Terry, Jack +loves you. I know that and I’ll have to live with it. But that love is +destructive, and I’m asking you now to get out of our lives forever and +never come back to hurt us again.” She said it with quiet intensity. + +“Before dinner?” he asked. + +“Oh, God!” Laura spluttered at the ceiling. + +Terry lighted a cigarette for Jack, who had fumbled one from the box on +the cocktail table, and told Laura, “I can’t go away forever. Any more +than you could desert Beebo forever. I love him. I’m stuck with him.” + +“I’ve _left_ Beebo,” she said. + +“You’ll go back,” he told her serenely. “It was that kind of affair.” + +Laura held on to her self control as her last and dearest possession. +She didn’t dare to lose it. “Take me seriously, Terry,” she begged, +almost in a whisper. “Please let us live together in peace.” + +Terry shrugged. He didn’t like to get serious. “What are you going to do +the rest of your lives?” he asked them. “Live like a couple of old maids +in your fancy little apartment? Pretend you’re both straight? What a +kick!” He said it sarcastically but without malice. “A kick like that +won’t last long, you know.” + +“It’s not a kick. It’s something we both need and want,” Laura said +earnestly. + +“Nuts,” Terry said amiably. “What you both need and want is a few +parties. Get out and camp. Do you good.” + +“Sure,” Laura said sharply. “So you make love to Jack and he goes out +and drinks a fifth of whiskey, after _eight months_ on the wagon. Was +that what you had in mind?” + +Terry made a little grimace of perplexity. “That was pretty silly,” he +told Jack. “Now she won’t let me see you at all.” + +“He needs me more than he needs you, Terry,” Laura said. + +“Yeah? But he _wants_ me more.” He grinned at her. “You’ve got to admit +that counts for something,” he told her. “I can give him something you +can’t give him.” He looked so smug, so sure of himself, that Laura, with +her heart in her throat, decided to pull her rabbit out of the hat. If +it didn’t work, she would have to give up. + +“And I can give him something _you_ can’t give him,” she said, her voice +low and tense. “A child.” + +There was a long stunned silence. Jack and Terry both stared at her—Jack +with a slight smile of amazement and Terry with open-mouthed dismay. + +“A child!” Terry blurted finally. “Don’t tell _me_! I wasn’t born +yesterday.” + +“It’s true,” Laura spat at him. “And I’m not going to have any +empty-headed, pretty-faced queers hanging around my baby! Not even +_you_, Terry Fleming.” + +Terry turned to gape at Jack, his mouth still ajar. “She’s kidding!” he +exclaimed. “Isn’t she?” + +Jack paused slightly and then shook his head, and the strange little +smile on his face widened. It was brilliant, he thought. Cruel, to +himself even more than to Terry, because it wasn’t true. But clever. + +Terry stood up, bewildered, and walked around the living room. Laura +watched him, her face flushed, sweating with expectation. Finally Terry +turned to look at them. Jack, raising himself on one elbow, watched him. + +“Do you still want me to have dinner with you?” he asked wryly, and +Laura saw hesitation in his look and felt a first small hope. + +She didn’t know what to say. But she was thinking, _I’ve made Jack a man +in his eyes now. He’s thinking, Jack can do what he could never do +himself. He’s thinking, at least if I was wrong about him ruining Jack’s +life, I’m right about ruining a baby’s. He knows damn well he could do +that. Or does he?_ + +But at least he _was_ thinking. His lovely young face was screwed up +with the effort. + +Suddenly he said to Laura, as if expecting to trip her up, “When’s it +due? The kid?” + +“November,” she said. She had anticipated him. + +“Well!” His face brightened. “If it isn’t due till November, we’ve got a +long time to play around.” And it was Jack he looked at now. + +But Laura jumped at him, bristling. “I don’t want an alcoholic for a +husband!” she said. “I don’t want my baby to have an alcoholic for a +father. A drunken, miserable, tormented man who doesn’t know which sex +he is, who has to chase around after a thoughtless character like you +all night. I don’t want to lose my husband, Terry. Not to you or any +other gay boy in the world. You’d ruin his health and make him wild +inside of a month.” + +She was crying, though she didn’t realize it, and her cheeks were +flaming. Terry stared at her for some moments in surprised silence. And +then he looked at Jack, who was still propped on one arm, taking it all +in with an inscrutable smile. + +“Well ...,” Terry said again, almost diffidently. Apparently he believed +they were having a child. He looked to Jack for moral support. “Is that +the way you feel too, honey?” he asked. + +“Why certainly,” Jack said cheerfully, incongruously. “Can’t you tell? +Whatever she says, goes.” A soft note of hysteria sounded in his voice. + +“I guess you don’t want me to stay for dinner now,” Terry said, glancing +at Laura. For answer she only turned away and began to cry. Terry walked +over to Jack and knelt before him on the floor, putting his hands on +Jack’s shoulders. “I do love you, Jack. I never lied about that. I +didn’t know it was so bad. For you, I mean. I still don’t see how it +could have been. But I don’t want to mess things up for the kid. Shall I +go? _You_ tell me.” He waited, watching Jack’s face. + +“I told you to leave me once, Terry. I haven’t the strength to say it +again. It’s up to you.” + +Terry leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “If you haven’t the +strength to say it, I haven’t the strength to do it. No matter what she +says,” he said. + +Laura came at him suddenly from across the room. “Go!” she flashed. “Go, +damn you, and never come back!” + +Terry looked uncertainly from Laura to Jack, and Jack covered his face +abruptly with a noise rather like a sob. + +Terry stood up. “All right,” he said in a husky voice. “I’ll go. I’ll go +for the baby’s sake. But not forever, Laura. Not forever.” + +At the front door he turned to her. “You say you love him,” he said. +“Then you must understand why I _can’t_ leave him forever. I love him +too.” He said it sadly but matter-of-factly. And Laura, staring at him +through tear-blurred eyes, realized that he never would understand what +he had done to Jack or how. He thought it was a simple matter of giving +a kid a break. And because he loved Jack enough he was able to do it. + +“Enjoy your flowers,” he said with a rueful grin, and then Terry went +out the front door and shut it carefully behind him. Neither Jack nor +Laura stirred nor made a sound until they heard the elevator arrive, the +doors open, shut again, and the elevator leave. + +“He’s gone,” she whispered. “Dear God, don’t let him ever come back.” + +Jack rolled over, his back to her, and wept briefly and painfully with +desperate longing. There was a moment of silence while she watched him +fearfully. And then he stood up and headed for the door. Laura threw +herself against it. + +“No! Don’t follow him, Jack!” she implored, her voice rising. + +“I won’t,” he said, trying to reach past her to open the door, but she +threw her arms around him and begged him to stay with her. + +“I got him to leave, Jack. He won’t dare come back for a long time. +Maybe he’ll find somebody new. Maybe we’ll be lucky and he’ll never come +back.” + +“I should be so lucky,” he said acidly. + +She looked at him, dismayed. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” she asked. + +He stopped trying to grab the doorknob for a minute to look at her. +“Yes,” he said, with effort. And after a pause, “You were masterful, +Mother. You really played your scene.” + +She looked at the floor confusedly, hearing all the sarcasm and the hurt +and the grudging admiration in his voice. “Do you hate me for it?” she +asked. + +“No. I’m grateful.” + +“Do you still love me?” she whispered. + +“Yes. But don’t ask me to prove it now.” He got the door open in a +sudden deft gesture, but Laura was still clutching him. + +“Where are you going?” she asked fearfully. + +“For a bottle.” + +“Oh, God!” she gasped. “Then it’s all been for nothing,” she said +despairingly. + +“No,” he said. “I’m not drinking this for Terry. I’m drinking it for the +baby.” + +“The baby?” she said tremulously. + +“The little kid who wasn’t there.” + +He turned to go and she followed him into the hall. + +“But Jack—” she protested as he rang for the elevator. “Jack, I—I—” She +looked up and saw the long bronze needle moving swiftly toward “three” +as the elevator ascended, having barely emptied Terry into the first +floor. It seemed to be measuring off the last seconds of their marriage. +She had to do something. Trembling and scared, she caught his lapels and +said, with great difficulty, “I meant it, Jack.” + +“Meant what?” + +“About the baby.” + +He stared at her, one hand holding back the door of the just-arrived +elevator. + +“I’ll have a baby,” she said. “If you still want one.” + +For a while they stood in the dim little hall and gazed at each other. +And then Jack let his hand slip from the elevator door and, circling her +waist with his arm, led her back into the apartment. + +“He’ll be back, you know,” he said, stopping to look at her. + +“I know. But by that time he’ll know we aren’t kidding,” she said, +looking dubiously at her tight, flat stomach. “By that time you’ll be +strong again. And ready for him. You’ll know he’s coming and you’ll be +able to take it. It won’t be like now.” + +He kissed her. “Goddam it,” he whispered, grateful and amazed. “I _do_ +love you.” + + + + + 9 + + +The doctor’s waiting room was crowded, heavy with the eager boredom of +people waiting to talk about themselves. It was the fourth doctor they +had been to see within a week. Jack, as Laura might have expected, was +in a hurry. But he had to find the right man, too—a man he genuinely +liked. Not just any bone-picker was going to perform the wizardry to +bring _his_ child into being. + +Laura had simply sat in red-faced silence through Jack’s expositions of +their supposed marital troubles, both unwilling and unable to contribute +a word. And the whole thing had been lengthy and bewildering and not a +little tiring. + +But when they finally got into Dr. Belden’s plush, paneled office, it +went well. And she knew, suddenly paying attention to the words of the +men, that it was going to be settled. And it was. + +She answered the standard questions, her voice low with embarrassment. +They always bothered her excessively, like so many spiders crawling over +her tender shame. Other girls might not mind, or even liked to yammer to +doctors about their intimate selves, but not Laura. + +Jack bolstered her up as they were leaving. “You were heroic, Mother,” +he assured her. “I know you hate it—yes you do, don’t lie,” he added +impatiently when she tried to protest. “It’s all right, honey, it’s all +in a good cause.” + +“Don’t call me honey.” + +“Why?” + +“Terry calls everybody honey.” She was in a grumpy mood; he saw it and +let her be for a while. “When do I have to go back?” she asked as they +rode home in a taxi. + +“A week from Thursday.” He looked at her somewhat anxiously as if +wishing that Thursday had already come. “You won’t change your mind, of +course,” he said to comfort himself. His voice was calm but his eyes +were worried. + +“No,” she sighed. She looked at her gloved hands until his anxious gaze +moved her to give him one and make him smile. + +He looked strangely different, almost young. Jack had the kind of a face +that must have made him look forty when he was twenty. In a sense it was +an ageless face because it had hardly changed at all. Laura supposed +that when he was sixty, he would still look forty. But for the few weeks +after Terry disappeared it looked young. And Laura thought with an ache +of how much of that was due to her. How much she had forced him to +depend on her. She was deeply committed now. There was no retreating. + + * * * * * + +Laura saw Doctor Belden three days in a row, and it was unspeakably +humiliating for her. But she endured it. By the time her appointment +came due, she was too afraid for Jack not to go. But she prayed when she +was alone, with big wild angry sobs, that the artificial insemination +wouldn’t work; that she was barren or Jack was sterile or the timing was +off; anything. And she felt a huge, breathtaking need for a woman that +absolutely tortured her at night. + +After her first examination with Belden she went out of the office to +meet Jack and told him she was going to the Village. + +“I don’t know why I need to. I just do,” she said. + +“Sure, sweetheart,” he said at last, standing facing her on the pavement +outside the doctor’s office. “Go. Only, come back.” + +“I will,” she said, near tears, and turned and almost ran from him. She +couldn’t bear to touch him, and it was painful even to look at him. + +It was mid-day in the Village and mothers walked their babies in the +park. Laura hurried past them. Old ladies strolled about in the +unusually warm weather, dogs barked, and a few hardy would-be artists +had set up shop in the empty pool at the center of Washington Square. A +small crowd of students had gathered to offer encouragement and argue. + +Laura walked quickly through the park to Fourth Street, and then she +turned and walked west, not sure why. On the other side of Sixth Avenue +she stopped and found a drugstore and went in for coffee. + +_I can’t see Tris_, she told herself, playing nervously with her hands. +_I won’t see Beebo. Or rather, Beebo won’t see me. That’s for sure._ She +tried to think of anything but what she had just been through, but it +didn’t work. It never does. + +_Just so it’s normal_, she thought angrily. _I won’t hate it but I +couldn’t stand an abnormal child. God, I’ve got to talk to somebody, +somebody who doesn’t know, who’ll put it out of my mind._ She thought of +Inga then, but she couldn’t remember her last name and she wasn’t too +sure where the girl lived. She had been too drunk that night. + +And then, for no apparent reason, she thought of Lili. Beautiful, brazen +Lili. At least Lili would talk. Laura wouldn’t have to open her mouth. +Maybe it would be better that way. She wouldn’t betray any secrets to +Beebo’s old lover about her marriage. But Lili would be only too happy +to tell Laura what had gone on between Beebo and Tris if only to see her +squirm, and Laura was burning to know. + +She went to the phone booth at the back of the store and looked up Lili. +She was still listed, still in the same apartment on Greenwich Avenue. +It was late afternoon by the time Laura got there. Lili would just be +getting out of bed, if she followed the same habits she used to have. + +Laura felt very tired and reluctant when she finally found the right +building and the right button to press; afraid and a little ashamed. But +she rang anyway, as if she had no will to stop herself. And when the +answering ring came she went inside and walked up the stairs. + +Lili, hanging over the bannister to see who was waking her up so early, +saw her coming. Laura stopped on the first landing at her amazed, +“Laura! Again! Are you a ghost?” + +Laura gazed up, her long pale hair hanging defiantly free and her eyes +blue-shadowed the way they were when she was tired or scared. Now she +was a little of both. + +“No, no ghost,” she said. + +“I don’t believe you. But come in anyway. I have the most divine friend +who’s a Medium. Where the hell have you been? I thought sure you’d come +back, after you saw Beebo a couple of weeks ago.” She watched Laura +mount the stairs as she spoke and took her by the arm when Laura reached +her. “You look worn out, poor lamb,” she said. “I’ll give you a drink. +What do you want?” + +“Nothing.” + +“Nothing!” It was an explosion, not a question. “God. Next you’ll be +telling me you’ve gone straight.” + +“I came to ask about Beebo,” Laura said. + +“Oh,” said Lili knowledgeably. “I thought so.” She went about fixing +Laura and herself a drink in spite of Laura’s objections. “Well, lamb, +what about her?” + +“Are she and Tris living together?” + +“Mercy, who told you _that_?” Lili turned to stare at her. + +“A friend of mine.” + +“Your friend lies. They aren’t living together and they never did. Oh, +Tris spent the night with her a few times. You know how it is.” She +laughed sociably, coming toward Laura with two filled glasses. “Here, +lamb, I insist. It’ll revive you. My doctor says—” + +“Tell me about Tris and Beebo.” + +“Well,” Lili said, confidentially. “It was just an affair.” + +“What does that mean?” she said. + +“It means when you can’t get what you want you take what you can get,” +Lili said archly. + +“They saw each other all the time. Beebo even had Tris going into the +gay bars. I know this, Lili, don’t hide it,” Laura said. + +“All right, all right,” Lili said soothingly. “Tris had to go to the gay +bars to find Beebo, that’s all. Beebo’s never home. You know how she is. +And she didn’t chase Tris so Tris had to chase her.” + +Laura felt an ineffable lightening of the heart. Somehow, if it had to +happen, that was the best way. + +“Tris was nuts about her,” Lili said juicily. “She came over when she +got back from Long Island last summer ... without _you_, if you recall.” + +“I recall.” + +“Yes. Well! Beebo was pretty low. You may remember that, too.” She +looked at Laura sharply, and Laura looked at the floor and refused to +answer. “Anyway, Tris fell into her arms and Beebo just caught her. I +wish I could say that Beebo fell for her. I think it would have spared +her some of the agony you inflicted on her.” So now it was out in the +open. Lili spoke dramatically, but it wasn’t all play-acting. She had +loved Beebo once, and she didn’t like to see her hurt as Laura had hurt +her. + +The two females eyed each other, wary but curious, each eager to know +what the other could tell her. Lili was ready to hurt Laura to find out. +She had seen what happened to Beebo when Laura left her, and it was +shocking. Laura didn’t know about it, and to Lili it seemed as if she +was nothing but a spoiled, headstrong little bitch who didn’t care whom +she hurt ... a little like Lili herself ten years before, and that made +Lili even more critical. + +If Laura were told how hard Beebo had taken it—how intensely she had +suffered and torched for her—maybe it would touch her and make her +sorry. Lili enjoyed the idea of Laura on her knees to Beebo, and Beebo +kicking her out. For she knew what Laura did not—that Beebo was a +different girl now. And to Lili’s way of thinking it meant that Beebo +would never take Laura back. + +So they were agreed, without having said a word about it, that Lili +would talk and Laura would listen to her; Lili because she had to hurt +and Laura because she had to know. + +Lili lighted a cigarette and stuck it carefully into an ebony holder +with a water filter, a rather bulky conversation piece. Everything she +did was staged. + +“I’m going to talk turkey to you, lamb,” she informed her guest. “Now +that I have you in my clutches.” She smiled slightly, a warning smile. + +“Talk,” Laura said. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d spare me the +sermon.” + +“I’m sure you would.” Lili gazed at her. “But, unfortunately, you _need_ +a sermon. Oh, just a little one, of course. I won’t be crude about it.” + +Laura ignored her, picking up the drink she didn’t think she wanted and +sipping at it. + +“Well,” Lili began. “You almost killed her. I suppose you could have +guessed that.” + +“I knew it would be hard for her,” Laura said, “but not that bad.” Her +voice said she thought Lili was exaggerating, but in her heart she was +afraid ... afraid it was true. + +“It was bad enough to send her to the hospital with a stomachful of +sleeping pills. I know. I took her over.” She said this with her green +eyes flaring and her voice low enough to make Laura strain a little to +hear her. + +“Oh, damn it, Lili, don’t make up a melodrama for me!” Laura cried. + +“I thought I was stating it rather plainly. But I’ll try again.” + +“Beebo wouldn’t take sleeping pills!” Laura said contemptuously, and +this she really believed. “It’s not like her. It’s too—I don’t +know—phony. It’s more like something _you’d_ do than Beebo.” + +“Luckily I’m not in love with you, pet,” Lili countered. They glared at +each other. “You don’t know her at all, do you?” Lili went on. “You +lived with her for more than two years, and you just don’t know her at +all.” + +“I know her better than anybody! What do you mean?” + +“All right, lamb, we won’t argue the point. Anyway, when she got back +from the hospital she was terribly despondent. I kept telling her you’d +come back. Everybody did. I didn’t believe it, of course, but I was +afraid if I told her you were gone for good she’d try something worse +than sleeping pills.” + +“Did she drink awfully hard?” + +“Are you kidding? She drank like a fish, naturally,” Lili said. “As if +you had to ask. Then she got a job. But I’m getting ahead of myself. You +wanted to hear about Tris.” + +Again she smiled, and Laura hated her smile. “Just tell me, Lili,” she +said. “Without the dramatics.” + +“Certainly, darling.... Well, Tris came back and the first thing she did +was come looking for you to tell you she was sorry. I don’t know for +what. But I was there when she arrived. I couldn’t leave Beebo alone for +five minutes, it was that bad. So anyway, we were having dinner when +Tris came and she looked very surprised not to see you, but if you ask +me, she was thrilled to death. She’s been on the make for Beebo ever +since you met at the dress shop. She strung you along for a contact with +Beebo.” + +“I don’t believe you,” Laura lied bravely. “Go on.” + +“Well, darling, that makes it slightly awkward. It’s essential to the +narrative that you believe it.” But Laura’s cold white face discouraged +her sarcasm and she went on. “Well, Tris was nuts for her. That time she +burst in on you and Beebo got so mad—yes, she told me about it—she came +to see Beebo, not you. She didn’t care a damn if it got you in trouble. +The only thing she cared about was seeing Beebo. She wasn’t very happy +about the way Beebo treated her then, but she’s had better luck +since.... + +“Well, Beebo didn’t even try to fight her off. She just let her in and +they spent a couple of weeks together. And the whole time that awful +Milo—Tris’s husband—I think you’ve met?—yes. That must have been jolly.” +She grinned maliciously. “Well, Milo was over there all the time, just +mad as hell. It’s a wonder he didn’t kill Beebo, the way Tris carried on +about her. It took him four whole months to drag her away, and Tris +still comes over whenever she can sneak out. But Beebo and Milo get +along better now. Since he realized Beebo’s not in love with his wife. + +“For some strange reason she can’t seem to fall in love with anybody. I +think she’s crazy myself. I mean, after all, you’re not _that_ +irresistible.” She paused and Laura took advantage of it to switch the +subject, fast. + +“What about the job? You said she had a job.” + +“Oh, yes, I did, didn’t I? Well, she’s waiting on tables at the +Colophon. Oh, don’t look so disappointed, lamb, she _likes_ it. Besides, +she can wear pants.” Lili knew how Laura hated Beebo’s elevator uniform, +and it pleased her to point out that Beebo hadn’t reformed. “She works +from five to eleven,” Lili went on. “Really very good hours. And then of +course she’s free to get soused till dawn.” + +“Does she?” + +“Sometimes.” + +“Is it very bad?” Laura asked, her voice a little shaky with fatigue. + +“Sometimes.” + +“God, Lili, is that all you can say? Sometimes? _Tell_ me about her, I +haven’t heard anything for eight months!” + +“That’s the way you wanted it, darling.” + +“No. No, it isn’t,” she whispered. “That’s the way it had to be.” + +“I would say—judging strictly from your very interesting diary—that you +were glad to get rid of Beebo. Maybe you’re just here to ease your +conscience, hm? Be sure she hasn’t done anything messy you’d have to +blame yourself for?” + +Laura had to look away for a minute. The shame was too plain on her +face. “That was a stupid thing, that diary,” she mumbled. She started +crying softly, helplessly. “Lili, cut out the sarcasm,” she pleaded, +knowing it would do no good. + +“Why, don’t be silly!” Lili exclaimed, enjoying the scene. “I haven’t an +ounce of sarcasm in me. I’m just a reporter giving you the facts.” + +“You’re a lousy gossip columnist!” Laura said. “You’re all dirty digs +and snide cracks, and about a tenth of what you say is true. Tris +Robischon was shy and neurotic. She hated gay bars. She wouldn’t have +gone in if she hadn’t been forced. She hated gay people so much that she +wouldn’t associate with them.” + +“Like hell,” Lili said elegantly. “She lived in the Village, didn’t she? +Who do you think her ballet pupils were, anyway?” + +“Children! Men! Little girls!” + +“_And_ big girls, darling.” + +“She never had affairs with them. She might have slept with one or two +of the men, but not with the girls. I’m sure of it.” + +“Have you talked to Milo about that?” + +“No ... not about that. But I _know_ Tris!” + +“Must be wonderful to be so sure of yourself, pet,” Lili drawled. “The +fact is, your little pseudo-Indian slept with dozens of her pupils. She +went to the Lessie bars because Beebo did, and Beebo’s not the first +girl she’s done it with. You can check it. Go ask the bartender at the +Cellar. Ask the lovelies at the Colophon. At Julian’s. Go on. Scared?” + +Laura stood up suddenly and headed for the door. “I’ve had enough, Lili. +Thanks. Thanks a lot.” She spoke briefly, afraid of more tears, and +grabbed her coat as she went. But Lili got up and ran after her. + +“But darling, I want to know where you’ve been all this time!” + +“It’s no business of yours.” + +“Oh, tell me, Laura. Don’t be difficult,” she said. “Beebo would be +interested,” she wheedled. + +“Oh, I doubt it. After what you’ve told me. But just for the record, +I’ve been living uptown.” + +“Where uptown?” + +But Laura shook her head. + +“Alone?” Lili said. + +“No.” Laura didn’t know why she said it. It just seemed easier than +arguing. Besides, she didn’t want Lili to think she was friendless and +despised everywhere. + +“You know, Jack Mann disappeared from the Village the same time you +did,” Lili said, her voice vibrant with curiosity. + +“Yes.” + +“Do you know where he is?” + +“I see him now and then.” She slipped her coat on and opened the front +door, not bothering to look back at Lili. Her face was streaked with +tears and torment and she wanted to go, to get out, to hide somewhere. + +“Where are you going, pet? Why in such a hurry?” + +“I’m a little sick, Lili, thanks to you. You have that effect on me,” +Laura said. + +Lili laughed charmingly. “Imagine!” she said. “It’s an even trade, then. +Well, just so you don’t go near Beebo, I guess it’s safe to let you +loose.” + +“I have no intention of going near Beebo,” Laura said coldly, turning to +look at her. + +“Good,” Lili said. “She’d kill you for sure.” + +Laura felt a red fury come up in her and she stepped back into the +living room, her face so strange and tense that Lili, for the first time +since Laura had come, became rather alarmed. + +“Lili, goddamn you to hell, quit telling lies! Quit exaggerating!” Laura +cried. “I hurt Beebo, but not _that_ much. I didn’t ruin her life, for +God’s sake! Or cripple her or kill her or drive her crazy! And I won’t +stand here and be accused of something I didn’t do. Beebo’s no angel, +you know. Beebo damn near drove _me_ out of my mind when we lived +together. She hurt me more than once—I mean _really_ hurt, and I’ve got +scars to prove it. I know she loved me, but that doesn’t make her +perfect and me a double-damned bitch. Love affairs have broken up +before. The world keeps on spinning!” She spoke fiercely to bolster up +her words. For the truth was that Laura remembered only too well the +night Beebo had told her she might kill her someday, and then herself. + +But she couldn’t let Lili see that, or suspect it, or think that Laura +feared it. She hated Lili with all the force of her own fear and +uncertainty and resentment at that moment, and her wild hair and hot +face actually did scare Lili. + +“All right,” Lili said finally, putting her drink down on a dainty +Empire drawer table near the door. “All right, Laura Landon, I’ll tell +you something.” And Laura saw now that Lili had to defend the things she +had said with a good serving of bitter anger: the _pièce de résistance_. +“You think Beebo would welcome you back with loving arms? You think +she’d forgive you?” + +“I didn’t say that!” + +“You think I’ve been kidding about how hard she took it when you broke +up? When you left her? Sure you do. You make yourself think it. Because +you don’t want to feel guilty about it. But you listen to this. Listen!” +she cried suddenly as Laura made a sudden move to leave. + +Lili threw herself against the door, panting with the exaltation of +mingled fear and pleasure at hurting Laura. “Remember Nix? Remember that +nice little dog you hated so much? Oh, you hated him all right. Beebo +didn’t have to tell me, I saw it with my own eyes. Everybody did. You +did everything but kick him. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you did even +_that_ when nobody was looking. Well, what happened to poor Nix?” + +“You know damn well!” Laura flashed, feeling trapped and desperate. “You +know as well as I do. Let me out of here, Lili!” + +“He died, didn’t he? Rather messily. Let’s say, horribly. Such a nice +little dog. You know how he died, Laura?” + +“If you’re trying to say _I_ did it—” + +“Beebo killed him. Sliced him in half with that big chef’s knife you had +in the kitchen table drawer.” + +For a horrified second, Laura was silent, paralyzed. She almost fainted. +She actually staggered backwards and lost her balance. Lili grabbed her +to break the fall and left her lying on the floor, her face buried in +the plush carpet, sobbing, wailing with shock and horror. Even Lili, +finally, was worried about her. She tried to snap her out of it with +sarcasm. + +“You could have shown a little concern when it happened,” she said, +“instead of saving it all for now. It’s a little late now. Those are +crocodile tears, Laura.” But they weren’t, and Lili couldn’t get much +conviction into her voice. She bent over Laura and said, “Stop it! +Really, Laura! Don’t make a scene. Oh!” she exclaimed in exasperation +and alarm. “And she accuses _me_ of theatrics!” she cried to the +ceiling, her hands to her temples. + +After a long while Laura rolled over, her breath tumbling uncontrollably +in and out of her, her face blotched and stricken. + +“It isn’t true, is it?” she whispered. “You just wanted to hurt me. +Lili?” + +Lili, sitting on the edge of her velvet couch, with her elbows on her +knees and her chin in her hands, said, “It’s true.” She gazed at Laura +and there was no pose, no elegance in her. It wasn’t worth the effort +now. Laura was beyond noticing or caring. With her face relaxed, the +lines of thirty-seven years showed around Lili’s mouth and eyes. She was +wondering if the startling effect her words had had was worth it. + +Laura looked sick. What a bother to have to call a doctor! She shouldn’t +have told her. She had had a good time roasting her. She should have let +her go. But there was Laura, her bosom heaving, her face a strange +color, her eyes enormous. _Odd, I never noticed how big they are_, Lili +thought idly. + +“Did anyone ... really ... beat her up?” Laura said, her breath +betraying her and making her gasp. “Or did she make up the hoodlums, +too—like Nix?” And she covered her face to cry while Lili answered her. + +“She did that to herself. After she killed Nix. I don’t know why she did +it. I hate to admit it, but I guess she did it out of frustrated love. I +tried to make her explain it when she told me about it—and believe me, +she wouldn’t have if she hadn’t been fried—and she just said, ‘Laura +hated him. I thought she might stay with me longer if he was gone.’ +After she did it she beat herself. I don’t know how. I don’t know with +what. She didn’t say. Maybe she just whacked at herself with her fists. +Maybe she used something heavy. Anyway, she did it while she was +hysterical. At least, that’s what I think. I don’t see how she could +have hurt herself that much if she hadn’t been half crazy. She was +mourning for Nix and she was afraid of losing you.” + +Lili stopped talking, and Laura realized dimly that there had been no +cutting edge in her voice for the past few minutes. + +After a little while of silence Laura got up dizzily from the floor and +dried her eyes. Her face had gone very white and she sat down for a +minute in a chair. + +“Did you ever love her?” Lili asked. “Really?” + +Laura turned to look at her, and her eyes seemed remarkably deep and +different, as if she had seen something for the first time. She didn’t +seem to have heard Lili. + +“Did you ever love her, Laura?” Lili asked again. + +“Not until now,” Laura said, and Lili stared at her. + + * * * * * + +When Laura got home, all she wanted was to go in the bedroom, turn out +all the lights, and crawl half dressed into her bed. And try to make +sense of her awful knowledge, try to live with it. She couldn’t think of +Beebo without pain. + +Jack followed her into the bedroom where she sprawled on the bed +sobbing. He went to her and said worriedly, “Jesus, honey. Tell me about +it.” He sat down beside her, his hands on her shoulders trying to ease +her. “Did the stock market crash?” + +She wept on as if he weren’t there. + +“You got a bad pickle in your hamburger?” + +No response. + +“Your girdle split?” + +She rolled over and looked at him with mournful eyes. “Jack, this is no +time to be stupid.” + +“I can’t say anything very bright till you tell me what’s the matter,” +he said. + +Laura blew her nose hard. He made her feel ludicrous and she resented +it. “Beebo,” she said finally. “Beebo. Oh, Jack.” She looked at him with +red eyes. “She _must_ have killed your little dog. The one you gave her +after Nix died.” + +“_Must_ have?” + +“She killed Nix. Nobody beat her up. She did it to herself.” + +They stared at each other, Jack beginning to share her feelings. + +He heaped his scorn on Beebo. “Damn!” he said. “Damn silly hysterical +female. I thought Beebo had more sense than most women.” + +“Just because she’s not _like_ most women?” Laura cried. “Jack, you make +me furious! The more mannish a woman is, the more sense you think she’s +got! God! Beebo’s _sick_! She’s sick or she wouldn’t have done it. When +I think what she must have gone through, I—oh....” And she wept again, +silently and hard. “She’s no damn silly female. You damn silly _man_!” + +“What is she, then?” he asked, smiling a little. + +Laura turned back to the bed and muttered, “I don’t know. She’s mixed up +and unhappy and maybe she’s still in love with me. She’s miserable +because of me, anyway. I know that much.” + +“Isn’t that touching,” Jack commented acidly. “You have a desirable +woman walloping herself and bisecting dachshunds out of love for you. It +must do wonders for your ego.” + +Laura didn’t even answer. She just flew at him, nails first, and took a +wild swipe at his face. She missed; Jack was fast, and prepared. But she +struggled desperately with him with her knees, her elbows, teeth and +nails, until she was exhausted. She didn’t last long. Lili had taken the +fight out of her. + +He laid her back down on the bed when she was gulping for air and went +to get her some coffee. + +“Now, tell me where you learned about Beebo,” he said when he returned. + +After a long, reluctant pause she answered him. Her basic trust in him +persuaded her, but she promised herself that if he got sarcastic again +she would stop speaking to him. Permanently. + +“I saw Lili this afternoon,” she whispered. + +He gave a snort. “For old times’ sake?” he asked. + +“To ask about Beebo,” she said haughtily. + +“And she told you that romantic little tale? About carving up Nix?” + +“Yes.” + +“And you believed her?” + +“Yes. She wasn’t kidding.” + +“Oh, she never does,” he said with false agreement. + +Laura flipped over to face him, her face red, but he interrupted her +before she could get a word out. “Okay, she told the truth, we’ll say.” +He moved her coffee gently toward her as he spoke. “And if she did it’s +pretty awful and it’s pretty sad. And I wish like hell that it hadn’t +happened to Beebo, because she’s a damn nice kid and I always liked her. +I’m sorry about it, Laura—” + +“Sorry!” she exploded. “What a stinking little word that is for what she +must have gone through!” + +“What’s in a word, honey?” Jack shrugged, frowning. “You want a eulogy? +I’m sorry, if Beebo really did it. That’s not fancy but it’s true. I +can’t put Nix back together. I can’t order you to love Beebo the way she +loves you.” + +There was a long silence then while Laura considered what he said. Her +feelings for Beebo seemed to have undergone a transformation that +afternoon. It was as if she saw clearly, and for the first time, into +Beebo’s secret heart, into her pain and frustration and passion. And +Laura’s own heart melted, touched, awed, a little exalted even to think +that she could have inspired such a wonderful, terrible, mad, +single-minded love in anybody. All of a sudden it seemed very valuable +to her. She wanted it back, just the way it had been. She would know how +to respect it now. + +She lay there looking at Jack and felt a small fear licking at her heart +like a flame. What if her love for Beebo became more precious to her +than her love for Jack? + +She said pensively, “I felt so bad about everything. I’ve been so +selfish.” + +“Not with me, honey.” + +There was a long pause. At last she said, “You mean—going to the doctor, +and everything?” + +“That’s only part of it.” He got up and went to her. + +Laura was standing in her bare feet, leaning against a wall and looking +out at the East River. Her eyes were fastened on the night lights of the +city. Jack touched her shoulder. + +“Laura, darling, I’ve loved you for a long time ... ever since we met, I +think. I’ve never loved you less than I did at the start. And now I love +you much much more. Just the fact that you were willing to try for a +child means the whole world to me. Even if it never works out. I can’t +love you with my body. You wouldn’t want it even if I could. But I don’t +think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as you, honey. Not even the lovely +boys I could never resist. Not even Terry, and there never was a +lovelier one. When all the sweat and passion are over with there’s +nothing but ashes and melancholy. Nothing’s deader than a gay love +that’s burned out. But with you ... I don’t know, it just goes on and +on. It’s steady and comforting. It won’t fail me, no matter what. It +gives me a little faith—not much, but a little—in myself. In people. In +you.” + +Laura turned her head away so he wouldn’t see the tears. + +“Laura, you can say what you please but you’ll never convince me that I +did a cowardly thing marrying you. A selfish thing, yes. A hell of a +selfish thing. I think I would have gone to pieces without you. But I +wasn’t running away from my old life as much as I was running to a new +one.” + +Suddenly Laura felt a big ugly need to fight. Maybe it was just to let +off steam after a nerve-wracking afternoon. Maybe it was to make her +forget how guilty she felt about Beebo. Probably it was both. + +Laura turned and walked away from him, feeling his hand slip from her +shoulder, unwanted and unsure. “Well, I don’t know why _you_ left the +Village but I think I know why _I_ did. Finally,” she said. Her voice +was hard and she knew she was going to hurt him and she cringed from it +almost as much as he did. And still she spoke, compulsively. “I left +because it was the only way I could see out of my problems. You were my +escape hatch, Jack. You were just too damn convenient.” + +“That’s my charm,” he said harshly. “Ask Terry.” + +“It isn’t the first time I’ve run away from my problems. I ran away from +Beth in college. I ran away from my father. From Marcie—remember her? +She was straight. I didn’t find out till I tried to make love to her.” + +“I remember. You ran straight to me. And if you hadn’t you’d be enjoying +a protracted vacation in a mental institution at this moment.” + +“You helped, I admit it. I don’t know what I would have done. But that’s +not the point. The point is, that here I am doing it again. Running +away. Not _to_ you this time, but _with_ you.” + +“So?” he said. “So we run away. So what the hell? Let’s run. Who gives a +damn? What’s _eating_ you, Laura?” + +“It’s wrong, that’s what! You told me when we left the Village I’d get +over it and Beebo didn’t matter ... she’d survive. And I believed you. +Until today.” + +“And now you think she won’t survive?” he asked bitingly. “Because of +something she did ten months ago while you were still living with her?” + +Laura was swallowed up for a moment in a sob. “I want her!” she gasped +finally. “Oh, God and Heaven, I want her!” And she stamped her foot like +a furious child. + +When she was quiet enough so he could talk without shouting, Jack said, +“Sure. I want Terry. But we’re poison together. So are you and Beebo. If +you go to her you’ll come running back to Uncle Jack before the month is +out. Fed up all over again. Only this time there’ll be a difference. +This time Beebo really will commit mayhem. Or murder. Or both. And if +you don’t run fast enough, Mother, it may be you she murders. I wouldn’t +put it past her.” + +“I want her back!” Laura amazed herself with her own words, words she +never meant to say. Jack stared at her, his face pale and determined. + +“You can’t have her.” + +“Jack,” she said, suddenly pleading, “let me go to her. Just for a week +or two. Please. Please let me.” She walked toward him as she spoke, her +arms extended. + +“No,” he said flatly. “Two weeks, hell.” He was afraid she wouldn’t ever +come back. + +“Jack, I wouldn’t stay. I’d come back to you.” + +“No!” It was absolute. He couldn’t take the chance. “We’ve had all this +out. We agreed to it before we got married.” + +“Jack, darling—” + +“I won’t talk about it, Laura. You can’t go back to her and that’s +final.” + +“But only for a week or two, just a few days....” + +“You’re my wife,” he blazed so fiercely that she stopped in her tracks, +startled. “You’re my wife and you’re not going to live with any Lesbian +in any Village! Not while I live!” + +She tried once more. “Jack, don’t you understand? For the first time I’m +beginning to realize how I feel about her, how I always felt. Tris made +me realize it a little. And now Lili. And even living with you—” + +“Living with me has made you lonesome for women, that’s all. And Beebo’s +a handy woman. Goddam it, Laura, I never denied you women. I’ve +encouraged you. Admit it, go on! I’ve _asked_ you to chase a few broads. +It’s not my fault if you’ve developed an itch. Go out and have yourself +a fling; you should have done it long ago. I don’t give a damn, only +don’t go to Beebo. And come back. Come back here, you understand? If you +don’t I’ll come after you! And I’m capable of mayhem myself!” + +She looked at his big burning eyes and trembled. “I just want to see +her,” she whispered. + +“What makes you think she wants to see _you_?” he demanded. “What makes +you think she won’t greet you at the door with the same knife she used +on Nix?” + +“That’s what Lili said.” + +“Well, for once Lili is right. I know Beebo; she’s crazy. You catch her +on a wrong day in a wrong mood and she won’t even think about it. She’ll +just operate on you as she did on the dogs.” He gazed unblinking at her. +“That would kill me, Laura, as sure as it would you. Besides, I can’t +take any chances. You might be carrying my child.” + +This struck fury into Laura. She had nearly managed to forget the child, +in the press of other things, but no longer. She picked up a pair of his +shoes, sprawled near the closet, and flung them at him, one after the +other. One flew through the window, splattering glass in its wake, and +the other struck his arm. + +“Why do you torment me?” she shouted. “Why do you talk about nothing but +baby, baby, baby? I never wanted the damn thing! I hope I never have a +baby! I hope I never have _your_ baby! I hope it’s born a boy! I hope +it’s born blind! I hope it’s never born at all!” She was screaming at +him, and he came to her carefully, coaxing her. + +“You’re all wrought up, Mother,” he said. He could see that she was +hysterical. + +“Don’t call me Mother!” she shrieked, her voice strained so that she +could hardly articulate. + +“Laura, for God’s sake,” he said, trying to brush it off, trying to keep +calm, help her. “I call you ‘Mother’ in honor of my Oedipus complex. +Purely a formality. It has nothing to do with babies. Come lie down, +honey. Come on. I’ll get you something to quiet you down. Come on,” he +wheedled gently, but she looked at him like he meant to murder her then +and there, backing away from him. When he made a quick move to grab her, +she sprang away, picking up the stool to her dressing table. She threw +it at him with all her strength. While he dodged she grabbed her shoes +and coat and ran from the room. + +At the front door she paused briefly to stare at him with desperate eyes +and then she heaved an ashtray at him and fled. It cut his hand, which +he threw up to protect his face. + +Laura ran down the stairs. There was no time to wait for the elevator. +She could hear Jack behind her, running and calling her name. At the +front door she turned swiftly toward the river and climbed a chain link +fence, ripping the flesh here and there along her limbs and tearing her +blouse. She dropped, torn and gasping, to the other side just as Jack +burst from the door and looked wildly in all directions for her. She +rolled soundlessly some feet down the long slope that ended in chill +black water. + +There she waited, sobbing quietly, clinging to handfuls of greasy mud +and roots and embedded rocks. She heard his footsteps going toward First +Avenue. He thought she would run for a taxi or hide in a doorway. Laura +scrambled and stumbled south along the embankment, not waiting for him +to come back looking for her. There was a suffocating panic in her. She +didn’t question it or wonder where it came from. She just did as it bid +her, struggling through the dirt on the incline. + +There was no looking back, no stopping for rest. She moved forward +doggedly, tripping and sinking to her knees and clambering up again and +going on, trying to stay near the fence in case she lost her footing. +The going was slippery and rough and her breath rasped in and out with a +fast whining sound. She had gone nearly three blocks when a jutting +stone, invisible in the semi-dark, threw her, and she felt herself begin +to skid and roll. She made a wild grab for the fence but it was already +fifteen feet above her and receding fast. The wind was bumped out of her +and she could not even scream. She had no idea how far she had fallen +before she stopped. + +Laura lay gasping and moaning for a few minutes, trying to get her +breath back. She knew she was crying but she made no effort to stop. She +moved herself gently to see if anything was broken, but the ground was +not hard and she had missed the bad stones. She had no idea how long she +had been there. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours. +She thought vaguely it must have been hours when she finally stirred, +chilled through, and opened her eyes. Beside her, on the ground, sat a +man. + +Laura screamed, a weak shuddering noise, and fell back, covering her +face with her hands. + +“Don’t mind me,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.” + +Laura felt herself trembling with fear. She tried to pull her torn +clothes straight, but it was so dark she could hardly see what she was +doing. When he turned his face toward her she could see a little of it. +It was very indeterminate; there was no way to guess his age or anything +about him. + +She stood up quickly and started to scramble up the hill, but he said, +“There’s an easier way.” + +She gave him one quick scared glance and then went on, but he stood up +and said, “There’s steps about a half block on.” + +Again she turned, very wary but willing to listen now. It looked a +million miles to the top. + +“I’ll show you,” he offered. His voice was not menacing and he stood +facing her with his hands in his back pockets, a black statue with +silver edges. “Come on, I’ll walk ahead.” + +He turned then and went southward, agile and sure. After a moment Laura +began to follow him, moving clumsily and with great effort, trying to +copy his movements and praying that he wouldn’t suddenly attack her. She +stooped and grabbed a sharp stone glinting at her feet and held it tight +in a sweating hand, just in case. + +He heard her panting behind him and stopped, bringing Laura up sharp +with a gasp. “You’re tired,” he said. “Want to sit down a minute?” + +She shook her head at him. + +“You can talk to me, I’m no devil,” he said. And she had the idea he was +grinning at her. But when she maintained her tense silence he shrugged +and turned back. Now and then he glanced at her to see how she was +doing. “Want some help?” he asked when she stumbled once, leaning toward +her, but she drew back fast and he said, “Okay. Just trying to help.” + +They walked for a few moments and Laura was almost ready to bolt from +him when she realized that the lights ahead she had taken for far +distant were in reality small bulbs strung up to illuminate a row of +steps. + +“Maybe you’re wondering who I am,” he said almost hopefully as they +neared the steps, as if he had a story to tell and was looking for a +listener. + +He turned, one hand on the iron rail that ran alongside the steps, and +held out a hand to her. “Here y’are. Help you?” + +She ignored him, turning her back to him to swing a leg over the low +railing. + +“Don’t you wonder who I am?” he said. “I don’t help just anybody, little +girl.” He spoke sharply. “Don’t you want to know my name?” + +“No!” she cried suddenly, angrily, startling herself. “You’re just a man +and all men are alike. No matter what their names are!” He gaped at her, +astonished. “You don’t really care about me, only about yourself. You +don’t want to know _my_ name, you only want me to know _yours_.” She +spoke breathlessly at breakneck speed. “You can’t suffer like a woman +can. You aren’t made to take it, you men. You’re just made big enough +and brute enough to hurt us. But we can’t hurt you. We can’t hurt you, +do you hear?” And she stopped abruptly, putting her hand over her mouth +in a storm of self-pity and shame and revulsion. It was Jack she was +screaming at, not this stranger. She couldn’t believe she had hurt Jack +as she had hurt Beebo or it would destroy her. She screamed to make +herself believe she couldn’t really hurt him, no matter what she did. + +The tears burst from her eyes when she saw it all for a lie. A lie +shouted to spare her own tortured feelings. The man looked at her, +patient now and unamazed. He was over his first surprise. And hers was +not the first desperate speech he had heard on the shores of the East +River. + +Laura began to run up the steps. + +“You won’t get far, looking like that,” he called after her. + +Momentarily Laura stopped and looked at herself in dismay. She turned +and glanced back at her guide. He was standing on the steps some twenty +feet below her, smiling at her consternation. He was a large man, +big-boned, and she thought, _My God, he could break me in two. Like my +father._ + +“Cat got your tongue?” he said. + +She started up again on shaky legs and he called, “Is that all the +thanks I get?” + +At this Laura began to run, but to her alarm he ran after her. She felt +her heart balloon in her chest, beating frantically, and when he caught +her, only a few steps from the top, she yelled in fear. She would have +screamed without stopping until somebody heard her if he had not wrapped +a big hand around her mouth and forced her against the gate. + +“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “I told you that. I never hurt anyone. I’m +harmless.” He grinned, and Laura, squirming under his big hand, was +dizzy with panic. + +He held her quietly for a few minutes as if to assure her that he spoke +in good faith. Finally he asked her, “Where are you going?” and released +her mouth. When she tried to holler at once he covered it again. + +“I’ll ask you again,” he said. “But don’t yell. Where are you going?” + +When he freed her mouth this time she murmured, “Home. I’m going home. +Let me go.” + +“How you getting home?” + +“I—I’ll walk. It’s not far. Just a block.” + +“You know what block this is?” He smiled with superior knowledge. + +“It can’t be far,” she said. + +He shook his head quizzically. “I don’t get it. You’re not even drunk. +You’re tore up but you’re no tramp neither. Mostly the ones I find down +here are hitting the bottle. Or they wouldn’t be down here. Or kids, +exploring. Not pretty girls.” He smiled and Laura’s one intense hope was +that she not faint and fall into his clutches. + +“Let me go,” she said, trying to sound controlled. But her big eyes and +urgent breathing gave her away. + +“Okay.” He took his hands away from her altogether, and said, “Go. But +I’ll bet you need a dime to telephone with.” + +She turned, dragging on the gate behind her until he said, “Here. Let +me.” He opened it for her. And when she saw that he was really going to +let her go, she allowed herself to turn and look at him. See him. He was +holding out a dime. + +“Take it,” he said. “At least you can call somebody to come get you.” + +Laura stared at him. He was big and ugly, seamy-faced, and wearing dirty +clothes with a worn cap tilted over his ear. But he had a nice honest +grin. And he looked, for all his dirt and size, rather childish. Laura +stood poised at the gate, wavering between flight and the dime. At last +she took it, her face reddening. She had to drop her sharp stone to get +it. + +“Didn’t need that, didya?” he said with a smile, watching it fall. + +She shook her head and whispered, “Thanks.” + +“That’s all I want to hear,” he said and let her go. She ran halfway +down the block, and then turned, overwhelmed with curiosity, to see what +had happened to him. He was standing there behind the closed gate gazing +after her, smiling. _He’s nuts_, she thought. _An idiot. A damn man! +That’s probably all he does, save people from the river. But even that +... even that pitiful life is worth more than mine. All I’ve ever done +is hurt the people I love the most._ + +At the end of the block she stopped running and looked once more. He was +gone. + + + + + 10 + + +Laura hid herself for a minute in a shadowed doorway and tried to make +sense of things. She was a mess, with mud on her torn clothes and on her +face, tangled hair and dried blood. + +She made an effort to smooth her hair down. There was some Kleenex in +her pocket and she wiped her face off carefully, reaching every corner +of it and rubbing till the skin turned pink. She brushed at her +disheveled clothes rather hopelessly. Maybe it was late enough so nobody +would notice her. + +She began to walk, holding her arms together in front of her as if to +keep herself warm, but in fact to keep the worst rips from showing. And +she kept her head down. _If only the police don’t stop me_, she thought. +_I must look like a whore._ + +Laura walked straight west on Forty-first Street, for it was +Forty-first, past Lexington Avenue and Park and Fifth and Broadway and +over to Seventh. No cops stopped her, although more than one passerby +stared. + +It was cold, a raw March night with the sting of coming storm in the +air. Laura went south on Seventh Avenue, walking almost mechanically. +When she thought of it she realized it was cold. But she hardly thought +of it. There was too much else on her mind. + +She was very surprised to reach Fourth Street so quickly. She had known, +without thinking, that that was where she was going. In less than five +minutes she had entered the little court in front of Beebo’s apartment +building and the old familiar trembling had begun. + +She sat down on a bench in the court to gather her strength. At last she +looked up the wall of dark windows behind her, twisting on the bench to +see, and saw lights in Beebo’s living room, and began to shiver. + +Ten or a dozen times she looked up anxiously at the lights on the second +floor. They were faint, as if only one small light were on. With a +sudden rush of desire that eliminated the need to make a decision, she +pulled open the inside door and raced up the stairs. + +At the top she stood trying desperately to get her breath. But she knew +after a moment that her whole body would shake and sweat and wear itself +out with unbearable anticipation if she didn’t get the door open. She +reached for the knob, but it was locked. + +She rattled the knob hard and then she knocked. + +When the door swung open a moment later she gasped in amazement. It was +Milo Robinson—Tris’s husband. + +“Milo!” she exclaimed. + +He stared at her. + +“Don’t you remember me? I’m Laura. Laura Landon.” + +“I remember,” he said quietly. “I just never saw you fresh out of the +gutter before.” + +She looked down at herself and her cheeks went scarlet. “I look awful, +don’t I?” + +“Somebody after you?” Milo asked. + +“Yes. No. I don’t know. Can I come in?” + +“I guess you can,” he said, stepping back. “You’ve got as much right to +be here as me, that’s for sure.” + +Laura walked into the living room and just the sight of it, warm and +comfortable and a little raggy, made her want to weep. She sank down on +the couch, exhausted. + +“Want some coffee?” Milo said, staring at her. + +“No, thanks. I’ve had too much tonight.” + +“Milk?” + +“I guess so. Thanks.” + +“You look real bad, Laura. You’d better get to bed,” he said frowning at +her. + +“Where’s Beebo?” + +“Tell me that and I’ll tell you where my wife is,” he said sharply. + +“You coming back to Beebo?” he asked her. + +“If she’ll have me.” + +“From what I know of it, she won’t. But I’m on your side, Laura. I’d do +anything to pry Patsy loose.” + +It startled her to hear him call Tris by her real name. “Is Beebo in +love with her?” she asked cautiously. + +“Naw,” he said with leisurely disgust. “She puts up with her but she’s +not in love with her.” He ambled out to the kitchen to pour her some +milk. “I should be so lucky,” he called. “I’d dump her. Right now.” + +“How about Tris? How does she feel?” + +He answered her while he poured the milk. “I don’t know, Laura. I never +could figure that kid. Living with her only makes it more confusing.” He +sounded very tired, like a man defeated. “I wish I could forget her, +forget the whole thing.” + +He came back and handed her the milk and sat down in a chair near her. + +They looked at each other. He was a tall young man in his early +twenties, handsome and well educated. His skin was dark and satiny in +the pink lamplight. + +“Does she love you?” Laura asked gently. + +He shrugged and gave a little laugh. “Who knows?” he said. “She says so +now and then. But that’s only when I lay down the law on the Lessie +stuff.” + +“What’s the law?” Laura said. + +“Well, goddam it, enough’s enough!” he exclaimed. “I like to see her +once in a while myself. She’s my wife.” + +Laura thought of Jack and felt the tears start quietly down again. +“Excuse me,” she sniffled. “I’m running like a sieve tonight. I don’t +know why. Did Jack Mann come over here tonight?” + +“I wouldn’t know,” Milo said. “I’ve only been here since midnight.” + +“Did he call?” + +“Nobody called.” + +“Nobody?” She had been so certain Jack would follow her here. “When does +Beebo get in?” + +“You tell me, then we’ll both know.” He sighed. + +“What will you do with Tris, Milo?” She spoke softly, sympathetically, +in a raspy tired voice. + +“Take her home again.” + +“Do you understand her? What makes her so contrary?” + +“No.” He turned and gave her a doleful grin, lighting another cigarette +from the first. “We’ve been married almost two years but I don’t know +her at all, to tell the truth. But I sure won’t let her go.” + +“Does she want you to?” + +“I don’t think she does,” he said. “Sound screwy? Well, not so very. She +needs me. Because I’m a man.” There was a pause and Laura mopped up the +useless tears and tried to think of Milo’s troubles, not her own. + +“How long are you going to stay?” she asked him finally. + +“I guess till they get back,” he said. + +“Are you sure they’re together?” + +“More or less. Patsy has a big thing on her.” + +“Milo? Would you stay here till they get back, then? I’m afraid—I’m +afraid of Beebo. She might hurt me.” + +He looked at her thoughtfully. “Yeah. Okay,” he said, studying her. +“Say, haven’t you been gone a while? Patsy doesn’t tell me much, but I +got the idea.... I haven’t seen you around or anything.” + +“Yes. I’ve been gone awhile,” she said, getting up. “I’m going to take a +shower and get cleaned up. Don’t tell her I’m here if she comes.” + +“Patsy?” + +“Beebo! Either of them.” + +“Who shall I say is in the shower?” + +“Santa Claus,” she said. She looked at him sitting glumly slumped in the +chair. “Why do you put up with it?” she said. “She’s too much. Tris is +too much for anybody.” + +“Don’t call her Tris. She’s been Patsy ever since she was six years old +and skinned her knees in front of my house. Tris. Christ! It’s too +affected.” + +“Did she ... ever really love me, Milo?” Laura asked it with a catch in +her throat. + +“Did she ever love any of us? I don’t know.” + +“Why do you keep coming back for more?” + +He shrugged. “Same reason you do. You love Beebo. You know it’s a mess +and you’re in for a lot of hell. It’ll never be right. But you love her. +So you take it.” He gave another sad little chuckle. “I wish I knew what +it is about you girls. What makes you love each other?” Laura stared at +him. “If I knew there’s one thing sure—I’d put a stop to it. What makes +you queer, Laura? You tell me.” + +“What makes you normal, Milo?” + +“I was born that way. Don’t tell me you were _born_ queer! Ha!” And he +was sarcastic now. + +“I was made that way,” she said calmly. + +“By who?” he asked skeptically. + +“A lot of people. My father. A girl named Beth. Myself. Fate.” + +He snorted. “Why don’t you give up women?” + +“Why don’t _you_!” she flashed. + +He blinked at her, beginning to feel her stormy intensity. + +“Is it _that_ bad?” he asked. + +“_Sure_, it’s that bad! Do you think I live this way because I like it? +Would you live like you do if you could live like a white man?” + +After a moment he shook his head, looking curiously at her. + +“Neither would Tris. _Patsy._ So don’t be too hard on her, Milo. You +damn men, you’re all lousy selfish bastards.” + +And to his astonishment, she threw the dirty dime at him. + +Laura was pulling on a pair of Beebo’s big men’s flannel pajamas when +she heard the front door open, and her heart came to a sudden stop in +her breast. It started again with a wild thump, and she stood with an +ear to the door struggling to pull the roomy tops over her damp body and +hear what was said. + +“Where is she?” Milo demanded. + +The front door shut and there was a pause. Laura heard the scrape of a +match and the soft whistle of expelled breath. + +“I sent her home,” Beebo said. And her voice sent a sharp thrill of +desire and recognition through Laura. She pressed her hands firmly over +her breasts till the flesh nearly burst between her fingers, as if to +still her own hard breathing. + +“Where, the studio?” Milo said. + +“Yeah. You entertaining, Milo?” + +“What?” + +“Who’s the milk drinker?” + +And Laura remembered suddenly the milk Milo had fixed her. She hadn’t +finished it; just left it sitting on the table. + +“Santa Claus,” Milo said. + +“No kidding,” Beebo said with a grin. “I used to leave Santa Claus a +glass of milk. And cookies. When I was a little kid. But that was +Christmas Eve. This isn’t Christmas Eve, Milo.” + +“Check the shower,” Milo said. “I didn’t ask her over. You sure Patsy’s +home?” + +“Hell, no,” Beebo said and she was right by the bedroom door. Laura +leaped backwards across the room, stumbling and catching herself on the +bed. She straightened up, her heart in her throat, watching the door. +Her long blond hair was still damp from the shower, and she had on only +the long, striped tops of Beebo’s pajamas. They reached to mid-thigh on +her. + +Beebo’s hand twisted the knob. “Go home, friend,” she said to Milo, +pausing. “Your wife needs a man tonight.” + +Milo shrugged at her. “She asked me to stay.” + +“_Who_ asked you to stay?” + +He thumbed at the bedroom. “Says you might hurt her.” + +Beebo stared hard at him for only a second more before she threw the +door open hard. It cracked like a shot against the wall and Laura opened +her eyes slowly. Her arms were crossed at the wrists and clamped tight +over her breasts, as if to ward off attack. She looked at Beebo and +Beebo looked at her without a word for several amazed minutes. Laura +felt such a flash of agonized desire for this big, handsome, passionate +girl who had been her lover that she was unable to speak. + +Finally Beebo walked slowly into the room, her hands shoved into the +pockets of her pants, squinting through the smoke of the cigarette +between her lips. “I thought Lili was kidding,” she said softly. “Seeing +things.” And she gave a single short laugh. She walked to the bed and +dropped her coat. “Relax, Laura, I’m not going to rape you,” she said. +She turned, with her weight on one foot and the other on the bed rung, +and called to Milo, “You can go now, Sir Galahad.” + +“It’s all right?” He came to the door and looked at Laura, who finally +found the strength to nod at him. “Okay,” he said. He looked her up and +down, surprised to find how desirable she looked with a clean skin and +no rags. “Lotsa luck, girls,” he said with his rueful defeated smile, +and he went out. + +“Thank you, Milo,” Laura called after him, but her voice was so low and +husky with emotion that he did not hear her. + +There followed a long strange silence while Beebo stared at her. Laura +kept her eyes on her toes, afraid to meet that penetrating gaze. + +At last Beebo crushed her cigarette and lay down on the bed, crossing +her feet and stuffing her hands behind the pillow to raise her head. + +“All right, Laura,” she said calmly. “You’re here. Tell me what you +want.” + +Laura looked up then, slowly, still very afraid. She was prepared for +any violence, any brutality. It no longer mattered if Beebo hurt her or +not. She was ready to submit to anything if Beebo would only take her +back. + +“What do you want?” Beebo said. + +“To stay,” she whispered. + +Beebo’s eyes widened with surprise. “To stay? With me?” She looked away +then at the wall. “You could have stayed last August.” + +“Last August I was miserably unhappy because of you. I had to get away. +I found out I’m more unhappy without you than with you.” + +Beebo laughed outright then. “Doesn’t give you much of a choice, does +it?” she said and her voice was not kind. Her laughter made Laura +realize that she was a little drunk. Laura walked over to the side of +the bed and knelt beside it, with her heart working as if it had taken +her up a stiff hill. + +Beebo turned her head to watch her. “What’s that for?” she said, +catching a corner of her pajamas between thumb and forefinger. Her flesh +was only inches away from Laura’s for the first time in eight long +months and there was a sudden current of feeling between them that +leaped like a spark from Beebo’s hand to Laura’s breasts. + +“I had to change. My clothes were filthy. I took a shower and borrowed +your pajamas.... I’ve been walking all night. All the way from midtown.” + +“What the hell did you do that for? Don’t they still have taxis in this +town?” She was cold. Her hand dropped away from Laura. + +“I didn’t have any money. And I had to see you.” + +“Why?” + +Laura put her head down on the bed on her clasped hands and began to +cry. “I love you,” she wept. And it was the first time since they had +met that Beebo had heard her say it that way. + +She got up on one elbow and leaned toward Laura. Her face was impassive, +but shrewd. “Not Tris?” she said. + +“Not Tris.” + +“Anybody else?” + +“Nobody else.” Laura lifted her tearful face. “Oh, Beebo, I’ve done you +so wrong, darling. I didn’t know how bad it was. Lili told me—” + +“I know she did, the miserable bitch. God damn her soul. The only secret +she can keep is her age.” + +“Beebo, I’ll do anything for you—anything—if you’ll have me back. Oh, +darling, it took me months to figure out what was wrong with me. I’ve +been so confused. And lately I’ve been thinking of you all the time. I +don’t think I ever stopped loving you, Beebo. I thought when you saw me +here you’d beat the hell out of me. If you want to ... do it ... if +it’ll help.” She looked at her out of large frightened eyes, half +expecting Beebo to jump her. + +But Beebo sat up then, grasping her ankles with her hands. “No, Laura, +it’s too late for that. What good would that do?” She made a face, +frowning. “There was a time when I would have. If you had come back last +fall instead of now. I would have loved you enough then to hate you. But +I’ve changed, Laura.... It doesn’t seem to matter so much any more.” + +There was a shocked silence from Laura. “You mean,” she ventured +finally, “you don’t love me any more? Oh, Beebo! Oh, Beebo! No!” She +covered her mouth with both hands, pressed so tight they turned white. + +Beebo looked at her curiously. “I love you, Laura,” she said, but it was +impersonal, detached, as if it were just another fact in her life like +her job or her black hair. “I’ll always love you. But I’ll never love +you again the way I did before you ran out on me last summer. That was +too much. When it happened it was a question of either dying of it ... +or living with something else, changing myself. Becoming a different +person. That’s what happened.” + +Laura, in her desperation, found the courage to touch Beebo then. She +reached out for her, and Beebo unexpectedly turned to help her. She +dragged Laura up on the bed with her two strong arms, and Laura gave a +long groan of need and fear and gratitude, all mixed up together. Beebo +held her in both arms, her back pressed against the wall, watching Laura +struggle to control her tears and trembling. She was kind, she was +patient. And it scared Laura, who suddenly discovered that she missed +the old stormy fury and passion. Beebo seemed odd to her, and it was +true that she had changed. + +“Laura,” she said. “I’ve been doing some thinking. I want to tell you +something. Maybe you won’t want to come back to me so much any more.” + +“Let me tell you something first,” Laura begged. “If I don’t tell you, +Beebo, I haven’t any right to touch you. I haven’t any right to be here. +Maybe I don’t anyway. Darling, I—I’m married.” Beebo gasped a little, +and Laura said quickly, “To Jack.” + +Beebo simply gaped at her for a second and then she burst out laughing. +“Good God! _That’s_ what happened!” she exclaimed. “You and Jack. Oh, +God!” + +“It wasn’t exactly—ridiculous,” Laura whispered, hurt. “We loved each +other.” But Beebo went on laughing. + +“I’m sorry, baby, but it sounds so damn—goofy,” she said. + +And when she called her baby, Laura felt a small glow of warmth and +hope. Maybe it wasn’t hopeless; maybe things could work out. She clung +to Beebo and found herself half laughing with her, and half weeping to +hear Jack’s name. + +“Where is he now? Does he know you’re here?” Beebo asked her. + +“He knows,” Laura said, for there could be no doubt that he did. + +“Did he send you? Married life got him down?” + +“No, I ran away. I—I hurt him. It meant so much to him to have a wife +and all....” She couldn’t say any more about it; it broke her up to +think of it. + +Beebo sobered a little. “You have a talent for that, Laura—hurting +people. Sometimes I think that’s your only real ability.” + +“I know,” Laura murmured, shame-faced. “And the trouble is, I never want +to. I never mean to. I’d give anything to undo it, once it’s done. But I +begin to feel like I’m smothering. Like I’d die of it if I can’t get +away.” + +“Is that the way _I_ made you feel?” Beebo said. + +Laura hung her head. “Yes,” she whispered. “I won’t lie about it.” + +“You can’t very well. I read the damn diary—every word of it.” + +Laura flushed at the thought of the thing. “Beebo, I—I didn’t understand +before how you felt. Or how I felt myself. But I know now I love you.” +She said it quivering with hope. + +But Beebo only answered, “Do you, Laura? How do you know?” There was a +little smile on Beebo’s face. She asked the question gently as if she +were talking to a bewildered child, brushing Laura’s hair from her +forehead. + +“Because I want so terribly to be with you,” Laura said, shaking her +head to emphasize her words. “I can’t bear it like this, being apart +from you.” + +“I’ve changed so much,” Beebo said, wondering at it, “and you haven’t +changed at all. Have you? I think you’re just tired of being a wife, +honey.” + +“No. I love Jack. But it’s different. I don’t _need_ him like I need +you.” + +“How about Jack? Doesn’t he need you?” + +Laura covered her face again with her hands to stifle the sudden sobs. +“A lot, I’m afraid. I’d be better off dead, Beebo, I swear I would. I’ve +caused so much heart ache. And most of all to myself. I’m no good to +anybody. I wish to God you’d get that big knife and do to me what you +did to Nix. I wish you’d beat me the way you beat yourself—” + +“Laura! God, spare me!” And for a second the latent fire in her flared +and gave Laura a curious thrill. + +“I thought you would,” Laura cried. “I was prepared for anything, even +that, when I came here. I still can’t believe you—I mean, you seem so +funny. I thought you’d hurt me, and you’re so calm, so quiet—” + +Beebo shook her head, looking at Laura with her disillusioned eyes. “I +won’t hurt you, baby,” she said. + +“You said once you’d kill me,” Laura said wildly, as if she were asking +for it, as if it would be proof of Beebo’s huge need for her. + +“I know. I meant it then, too. I was nearly crazy. But things have +changed, Laura. I don’t throw my threats around so easily any more. +There was a time when I could have done it, but no more. No more. Stop +crying, baby. Stop, honey.” She began to stroke Laura’s long hair. + +Laura looked up at her through pink eyes, her chest heaving in Beebo’s +warm embrace, and they gazed at each other for some time before Beebo +told her, kindly, trying to ease it for her, “I said I loved you, Laura. +But it’s not the same for me, now. I don’t love you the way I used to. I +couldn’t and go on living. You were my whole life for two years. I +thought I couldn’t exist without you. I thought it would be better to +kill you and die with you than go on without you. So what did I do?” She +smiled in contempt for herself. And pity. A bitter smile. “I chickened +out. I slaughtered a poor innocent pup instead. In the fury I should +have saved for you. And what did it prove? Nothing. How did it help? It +didn’t. It was a wasted gesture, Laura. A stupid, senseless thing. + +“But you see, I was out of my mind in love with you at the time. Now all +the madness has gone out of me, Laura. There’s not much fire left.” And +she bent suddenly to touch Laura’s brow with her lips. Laura felt the +sweet touch flow through her to her toes and she nestled close against +Beebo, weeping at her words. “It’s not wild and wonderful and tormenting +any more.” + +“How did it happen?” Laura begged her, cruelly disappointed. “Maybe +it’ll change.” She felt almost betrayed, as if she were in the arms of a +stranger. + +“No. I wouldn’t want it to change, now. It happened because if it hadn’t +I would have died, Laura. I was so sick, so lost without you, that I +would have gone to pieces. I’d have used the damn cleaver on myself.” + +“Oh!” Laura breathed, horrified. + +“I changed to save my life ... and my sanity. It took all my strength, +but I did it. And strangely enough, it was a relief. I felt as if I’d +laid down a killing burden.” She looked down at Laura, pulling her so +tight that they could feel one another’s hearts beating, and Laura, her +eyes shut, was saying to herself, “No, no, no....” + +“I love you still, baby,” Beebo told her. “I know I should be proud and +angry with you. I should kick you out or beat you up or both. But if I +did it wouldn’t mean anything. It would only hurt, like I hurt Nix, for +no purpose. I know Lili and the rest of them will bitch at me for taking +you back—” + +“Oh, will you, Beebo? Darling, darling, will you?” + +“If you want it that way....” She stopped, looking into Laura’s +tear-bright eyes. + +“I want it that way,” Laura gasped. + +But at the same time she had to realize that this was not her Beebo any +more; that things had changed irreparably and forever between them; that +the love they had left now was only good and tender, not the exalted, +shivering passions of the past. It had to be so, because Beebo could +never have forgiven her, let alone taken her back, otherwise. _And it’s +my fault—all my fault. It’s the price I have to pay to get her back_, +Laura told herself. + +“If you had been like this last summer ... so calm, so casual,” she +whispered humbly, “I would have stayed.” + +“And now that I’ve calmed down, you want me wild again, don’t you?” +Beebo laughed a little, a sad, wise laugh. “Crazy, isn’t it? Ironic and +crazy. And there’s not a goddamn thing we can do about it, Bo-peep. +Either of us ... baby....” She lifted Laura’s face and kissed it. + +“I won’t tell you how I missed you. I won’t tell you what I went +through. I wouldn’t even know how. It took a lot out of me. Too much. +But you’re welcome to what’s left. If you want it.” + +“I want it,” Laura said passionately. “I want _you_, Beebo.” She hung +her head. “Unless ... unless you still want Tris?” + +“I never did. I never wanted anybody else. I’ve been trying to give Tris +back to Milo since she walked in on me the first time,” Beebo said. +“She’ll give up on me when she finds out you’re home. She won’t want to +make it a threesome.” + +“Home,” Laura repeated. “Oh, Beebo....” + +And suddenly her arms were locked around Beebo’s neck and they were lost +in kisses and thrilling, half-forgotten caresses and the warm satin +touch of each other’s bodies. The pajama top Laura had pulled on so +frantically slipped off with no trouble, and she stretched out on the +white spread beneath the girl she had loved so much, in spite of so +much, and surrendered with a groan of delight tempered with sorrow. And +perhaps the beginning of understanding at last. + + * * * * * + +It was only a matter of hours the next day before Laura knew that the +feeling of strangeness she felt would not wear off. It was another two +days before she could bring herself to give up hope that Beebo might +change, that being together again would reawaken their crazy, beautiful, +love affair. + +But it was two whole weeks, two very long weeks full of wondering and +self-pity and struggle and doubt, before Laura could tell herself that +she had made a mistake. + +Beebo was drained of feeling. She was tired, tired of love and even +tired of life. Perhaps time and innate toughness would revive her, but +she had nothing to give Laura now. Laura realized with chagrin how +little she had to give Beebo. She had never given much, always taking, +taking, taking, from the older girl, who seemed to have so much to +offer. It had been too easy to help herself to that wealth of love and +she understood now, painfully, that she had come back to Beebo to be +worshipped again. + +She had turned tail and run at the moment when her problems with Jack +seemed too much for her, and she had run to the one person who had +adored her spectacularly in the past. She needed her ego bolstered, she +needed flattery and passion and reassurance from a woman. So it had come +to her as an eye-opening blow to find her tempestuous lover subdued, +transformed, almost a different person. + +_It never was right_, Laura thought, watching Beebo over the dinner +table. _She had to give beyond her strength and I took it all with no +return. At least she was generous with herself. I was the selfish one. I +always have been the selfish one. I thought the world was giving me a +bum deal, but I was too selfish to see the good side. Even with Jack.... +Oh my God, Jack. My poor darling. With him most of all._ + +“What are you thinking about?” Beebo asked her, seeing her absorption. + +“I—I have to go back, Beebo,” Laura said and her own words startled her. +“I have to see Jack once more.” Once expressed, these feelings so long +in the making made her feel like crying. She looked apprehensively at +Beebo, expecting her sarcasm. + +But Beebo only said, “I thought you would. Well, go on, baby. Go tell +him you’re sorry, it was all a nasty misunderstanding.” She spoke +mildly. + +“Don’t make it sound cheap, Beebo,” Laura pleaded. + +“It won’t be anything _but_ cheap unless you go back to stay,” Beebo +told her. “Otherwise there’s no point in going back at all.” + +“But—but I’m going to live with you now,” Laura faltered. “I just have +to see him once more. Explain to him—” + +“You’re his wife. Either go home to him and grow up or don’t go back. +What do you think you’d accomplish with a quickie visit, Bo-peep? Just +pep him up a little? Make it all bearable? You’d be lucky if he didn’t +run you out with a rifle. If you haven’t learned anything else in all +this time, you _must_ have learned that you can’t play around with love +as if it were a bargain basement special. Real love isn’t a production +line thing, it isn’t waiting for you in any old shop window. Haven’t you +learned that yet, baby?” + +Laura nodded, putting her head back against the chair and letting the +soothing tears flow quietly. “I’ve learned it. But it’s so hard to live +by what you learn. I needed you so much when I came back two weeks ago. +But I needed you the way you used to be.” It was a difficult admission, +but Beebo understood it. + +“Sure,” she said gently. “Now you’ve seen me. Now you know what I +couldn’t find the words to tell you. It’s over, Laura. I’ll always be +here, I guess we’ll always need each other a little. Maybe we’ll see +each other now and then. But there’s no point in our living together.” + +Shame colored Laura’s cheeks pink and she said warmly, “I’m not a child, +Beebo, and I didn’t come back here just to run off and leave you again. +I gave up too much to come back.” + +“Yes, baby, I think you did. You gave up too much. It wasn’t worth the +price, and you see that now. Admit it. Don’t be a stubborn idiot.” + +Laura was appalled at the apathy in her voice. “What would you do if I +insisted on staying with you?” she asked. + +Beebo shrugged. “I’d let you stay, of course. I haven’t the ambition to +kick you out. Besides, I love you still, in my way. I meant it when I +said it.” + +Laura stood up, unable to look at her any more. “I’m going back to the +apartment, and I’m going to talk to Jack,” she said. “I’ll be back in a +couple of hours.” + +“I doubt it.” Beebo did not even leave her chair. She lighted a +cigarette slowly, watching Laura’s back. + +Finally Laura turned around and faced her. “Please, Beebo, don’t talk to +me as if nothing in the world mattered any more. I can’t stand it, I +can’t stand to think I did it to you.” + +“Jack still matters, baby. Don’t do it to him, too.” + +Laura went and got her coat and purse from the bedroom, and then she +looked into the kitchen. Beebo sat with her back to the door, still +smoking thoughtfully. “I’m leaving,” Laura told her. “I should be back +around nine.” + +“Sure, sweetheart. Tell old Jack I said hello.” + +“I will.” Laura looked at her dark curly head, not sure if the frosting +on her curls came from the kitchen light above or from the first gray +hairs. She walked over to Beebo and kissed her cheek, leaning over her +chair from behind. Beebo smiled though she did not turn her head. + +And then Laura walked out, knowing somehow, deep within herself, that it +was for the last time. + + + + + 11 + + +Laura approached the apartment building with her legs trembling. It was +all she could do to keep from turning around and running. It was hard to +imagine what she might find. She left Jack a desperate man, and her +absence for two weeks would not have made things any easier for him. + +She stopped at the front door to marshal her strength, and the chain +link fence at the end of the street caught her eye. She marvelled that +she had been able to climb it the night she ran away. It looked almost +insurmountable now with the long shadows creeping along the ground +beneath it. She touched one of the cuts on her arm, still healing, and +wondered where her shabby guide with his friendly dime was now. All +unaware, he had taught her a valuable lesson about herself and turned a +spotlight on the lies until even Laura had been forced to see them and +confess the truth. She loved Jack too much to hurt him, and she had come +back now to heal him if she could. + +That thought gave her the most strength as she pushed open the +lacquer-red front door with its brass knocker. _If he didn’t need me so +desperately, I couldn’t do this_, she told herself. _And if I didn’t +love him so much, I couldn’t do it, either._ She pushed the button for +the elevator and felt a thrill of shame and fear that almost made her +sick. And then, out of habit, she glanced at her mailbox. It was so full +that it could not be locked and the door hung open. Laura went to it and +pulled the bundle of mail out with a sudden premonition. + +The box had not been emptied for days, perhaps weeks; perhaps not since +the night she ran away. + +_Is Jack—is he gone, then?_ she wondered. For a second her weakness and +humiliation overwhelmed her and she hoped he was. She hoped she would +never have to face him. For she dreaded what she had done to this man +who loved her, in his own odd way, more than he loved, or ever had +loved, anyone else on earth. + +And then, suddenly, she whispered aloud, “No! Oh, no! He’s _got_ to be +here!” + +She took the elevator to the third floor in a frenzy of impatience and +crossed the carpeted hall to her apartment door swiftly. Like the +mailbox, the door was unlocked, and that gave her hope. He wouldn’t go +out and leave it open for any stranger to wander into. It wasn’t like +him. + +Silent and tremulous, Laura entered the living room. “Jack?” she said +softly, knowing already there would be no answer. “Jack? Be here. +Darling, please be here,” she murmured. Slowly and fearfully she entered +each room, saying his name as she did so, and silently, each room +revealed nothing but his absence. Never had a home seemed so empty. +Never had her own voice awed and saddened her so. + +She had been through all the rooms a couple of times, halfheartedly +picking up a thing or two and looking with frightened eyes into the dark +corners, before she spotted the note. It was rolled into the top of a +whisky bottle, one of several sitting on the kitchen table. She picked +it up with trembling fingers and read: + + “_Laura darling._ I’m with Terry. I guess you’ve gone back to Beebo. + Maybe that’s fate, but I still think we could have made a go of it. + You’re my wife, Laura—that’s the difference between life and death + to me, even now. If you ever read these words, remember, I love you, + Mrs. Mann. And remember it too if you ever want to come home. Jack.” + +Laura wept silently, her throat and chest painfully tight with it, +crushing the letter against her neck. + +She walked dazedly into the living room, still holding the letter, and +stared around through her tears. She thought of Beebo and the warm, +slightly worn rooms she lived in and the worn-out love she had left. And +she thought of Jack. There had been none of his usual piercing sarcasm +in the note. Nothing but gentleness, nothing but love. + +After a long moment Laura pulled herself together. She sank down on the +sofa by the table and picked up the mail. She felt weak, and she +shuffled listlessly through the pile of bills and ads and notes and +papers. Near the end she almost passed up one with Dr. Belden’s name in +the return address spot. His name registered suddenly in her mind, and +she tore his letter open with hands newly sprung to life. + +She read only the first half of the first sentence: + + “Dear Mrs. Mann. I am delighted to inform you that next November, if + all goes well, you and Mr. Mann will be parents, and....” + +She fainted. + + * * * * * + +When Laura awoke she was lying on the couch with her head back and her +mouth open and uncomfortably dry. Carefully she lifted her head on a +stiff neck, turning it gingerly, and sat up straight. On the floor at +her feet was the doctor’s letter. She picked it up and found her hands +shaking so that she had to grab at it three times before she caught it +between her fingers. + +For some moments she sat there, her cornflower eyes enormous with shock. +Finally she whispered, “I’m going to have a child. _Me._” A first +hysterical thought of abortion flew through her mind, but she dismissed +it almost before it formed. + +“I’m going to be a woman. I have eight months to get ready and I’ve got +to _be_ ready when it comes. I’ve got to love it and take care of it.” + +Cautiously she stood up, and unsteadily walked toward the bedroom, one +hand warm across her stomach. “Now that I know, it’s not so bad,” she +said, speaking aloud as if to reassure herself. “I don’t resent it so +much any more. Strange ... I’m not afraid of it. I don’t know why, +exactly. Yes, I guess I do.... It’s Jack’s. It’s a part of him. It’s a +way to make it up to him for what I’ve done.” + +She reached her bed and raised her eyes to the windows, and the darkness +and sparkle of the city outside. It looked very beautiful. Jack was out +there somewhere. He had to be; he couldn’t have gone away, not this +soon. His note sounded too much as if he were going to look for her, as +if he knew he and Terry couldn’t last, and he would have to search her +out and make her try again. + +Laura swept some pajamas and shoes off her bed and sat down with a +curious feeling of elation and exhaustion. She stretched out, still +fully dressed, and gazed at the ceiling. + +_I’ll find him_, she thought. _Terry was staying at the Bell Towers. I +heard him say so. Somebody’ll know where they are._ She felt very tired +and she was surprised to find that she was crying again. There seemed to +be no reason for it, except that she was having a baby. And it belonged +to Jack too, and that made her smile through the tears. + +A little later, when she dimly realized she was falling asleep, she +thought of Beebo, and the thought twisted in her heart like a pain and +almost brought her awake again. But it was over for Beebo now. Her life +lay in another direction. Laura had to save Jack, and somehow, in the +saving of him, would come her own life and strength. She knew it now, +and it gave her the first peace she had known in all the years since she +had first realized that she was a Lesbian. + +Only the lightest rustle of air awakened her. She opened her eyes. It +was still deep night; the room was dark except for the small bedlamp she +had switched on when she lay down. And yet she was wide awake, and she +knew he was there. + +Laura turned and saw him standing in the doorway to the bedroom, +disheveled, his hands in his pockets, his round horn rims sliding down +his nose. She came up suddenly on her elbow, so fast that her head swam +a little. + +They looked at each other in silence for a minute; first startled, then +embarrassed. + +“Jack?” Laura said timidly, the way she had whispered it to the empty +rooms earlier in the evening. And again her own voice awed her into +silence. + +He straightened and walked slowly toward her bed. At the foot, he +stopped, his hands still in his pockets, his tie loosened, his shirt a +little gray. His face was serious and tense, as if he were quite ready +to believe she was a mirage. + +At last he spoke to her softly. “I’ve been coming back every night. I +was hoping ... I thought you might....” He stopped, shutting his eyes +for a minute as if to search for composure. + +Laura sprang up to her knees on the bed and put her arms around him. +“I’m here,” she cried. “I’m home, I love you, I won’t leave again, +Jack.” + +But he loosened her arms gently. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “I’m +afraid to.” + +“Believe me,” she exclaimed passionately. “Jack darling, please believe +me.” + +“We were going to leave for San Francisco Thursday,” he said, still +slightly incredulous. “Terry and I. I promised him, if you didn’t come +back.” + +“When did he ever keep a promise to _you_?” + +“I love him, Laura,” he reminded her. + +That stopped her for a minute. She bowed her head and cast about +desperately for something to say, something to convince him forevermore, +as she herself was now convinced, that it was their only hope to make +this marriage work. + +“Jack, I’d have gone anywhere in the world to find you,” she said, +unable to look at him while she talked for fear the sight of his face +would make her cry again. “I’ve had to hurt so many people—too many—to +learn my lessons. And I was hurt as badly as the others. I’ve made +mistakes, ugly ones, and I’ve been selfish and silly. But I’ve been +trying, I have, Jack! And I’ve been learning. I—I—love you.” She looked +up at him now and for the very first time, in all their long +acquaintance, she felt a pleasant flush in her cheeks at the sight of +him. Him ... a man. She felt flustered suddenly, unable to go on +speaking. + +Jack saw it too after a moment, disbelieving it at first and then +accepting it slowly, with wonderment. “Laura,” he said. “Do you still +believe we’re just a couple of scared kids? Do you still believe we’re +running away from the world by marrying each other? Do you think we’re +going to spend our whole lives running after a love that doesn’t exist?” + +“No,” she whispered. + +“You’re still my wife,” he said softly, and put his arms around her now, +at last, and made her tingle with awkward new feelings and unbearable +tenderness. “Do you want to live with me again? As my wife?” + +“Yes, Jack.” It wasn’t the passionate unreasoning yes she had flung at +Beebo in desperation two weeks ago. It was quiet and intensely felt. It +was a recognized necessity, but a beautiful one. + +“For how long?” he asked skeptically. + +“I’m your wife,” she repeated gently to him. “I’ll stay with you now.” +There was a new sound, a new tone in her voice that caught in his heart. +As for Laura she was once more bewildered by an unexpected tide of +emotion that made it impossible for her to look at him. “Say yes, Jack,” +she whispered. “Say it’s all right. Please, before I start crying +again.” + +He took her head in his hands and kissed her forehead and said, “It’s +all right. It’s all right honey,” and suddenly they clung hard to each +other and Laura began to sob with relief and joy. She could hardly +articulate, trying to spill her lovely secret to him. “Jack, Jack, it +worked. We’re going to have a baby! Darling, we’re going to have a +baby!” + +She felt his arms tighten till she lost her breath and when she looked +up at him this time, with her face blotched and her eyes red and her +lips curved into a smile, he found himself crying happily with her. + +When he could talk, he murmured into her neck, “I saw the letter in the +box. It came two days after you left. The damn thing terrified me. I +swear, Laura, I couldn’t open it, I couldn’t even touch it. I wouldn’t +even _look_ at the damn mailbox. I was hoping so much it would be +true—and so damn afraid if it was you wouldn’t come back. That I’d lost +you and you might have to have it alone and you wouldn’t want it or love +it—” + +“Oh, stop,” she begged. “Jack, darling, stop.” + +And they fell back on the bed together, crying and laughing and touching +each other’s faces. + +“My God!” Jack exclaimed suddenly, aware of his weight on her. “Did I +hurt you? You ought to take it easy, honey.” But she chuckled at him. + +“If you knew what this poor baby has been through already you wouldn’t +have a single qualm about it,” she said, smiling. + +He stroked her face with such an expression of love that she had to shut +her eyes again. “I love you, Jack. I keep telling you that. I don’t know +why, it just seems like I have to. Like I really believe it myself now, +for the first time. I love you.” + +And he kissed her mouth then. It had never happened before but it was +right and wonderful. + +They lay in each other’s arms and talked and made plans. They talked +about Beebo and Terry, about themselves, about their baby, about life +and how good it was when you were brave enough to face it. + +Laura was afraid of Terry still. “Where is he?” she asked. + +“God only knows,” Jack shrugged. “I left him in his room at the Towers. +I’ve been doing this every night since you left. No drinking, no +cruising, until I’ve checked the apartment to make sure you haven’t come +back. I just told him, ‘If I don’t make it back some night you’ll know +she came home. Don’t wait for me.’ I don’t suppose he waited very long, +either. He’s not the type.” He looked down at her, his face serious +again and frowning. “What about Beebo?” he said. + +“It’s over. She knew it long ago. I finally realized it, too.” She +raised her eyes to his. “I’m not in love with her now. Maybe I never +was. But I respect her and admire her. She’s amazing. And much stronger +than I ever gave her credit for. I wish to God I could change some +things—” + +“Don’t play that game, darling,” he said quickly. “That’s the surest way +to break your heart and lose your mind. Save yourself for now. And for +later. Save yourself for me and the baby.” He leaned down and kissed her +again and, silent and amazed at herself, she returned his kiss with +warmth. + +“Besides,” he added, whispering into her ear, “Somebody’s got to clean +up the apartment.” + +“I’ll take the living room. You can have the kitchen,” she offered. + +“Thanks.” He grinned and pulled her close in his arms, and she didn’t +resist him; just nestled against his warm body and relaxed in the circle +of his strength, a real strength, a man’s strength. It felt very good to +her. + +“After all, we aren’t expecting any visitors today, are we?” he said +sleepily into her long light hair. + +“Not a soul,” she murmured. She wondered, in that violet twilight before +sleep, how long it would take her to get used to this closeness with +him. She was so comfortable ... more comfortable, it seemed, and more +safe than she had ever been. + +And they fell asleep together with the sigh of relief and hope that only +the lost, who have found themselves, can feel. + + + + + Transcriber’s Notes + + +This text was transcribed from the unchanged reprint edition in the +collection _HOMOSEXUALITY. Lesbians and Gay Men in Society, History and +Literature_, Arno Press: New York, 1975. Materials from a later date +than the original publication year 1959, such as series title, editorial +information, or publisher advertisements, have been omitted. + +The original spelling was mostly preserved. A few obvious typographical +and punctuation errors as well as variations in hyphenation were +silently amended. All other changes are shown here (before/after): + + [p. 15]: + ... have feeling?” ... + ... have feelings?” ... + + [p. 53]: + ... knew it meant she had spend the day at Julian’s or the + Cellar ... + ... knew it meant she had spent the day at Julian’s or the + Cellar ... + + [p. 71]: + ... the worst had been. Beebo was using it an as excuse to sit ... + ... the worst had been. Beebo was using it as an excuse to sit ... + + [p. 85]: + ... fact that he was male and strong and full off affection for + her. ... + ... fact that he was male and strong and full of affection for + her. ... + + [p. 93]: + ... play it that way, too. “Can I use your phone,” she asked. ... + ... play it that way, too. “Can I use your phone?” she asked. ... + + [p. 95]: + ... Laura started at her, dumbfounded, for some seconds, before ... + ... Laura stared at her, dumbfounded, for some seconds, before ... + + [p. 96]: + ... He slipped his coat off without a word, dropped in on the ... + ... He slipped his coat off without a word, dropped it on the ... + + [p. 97]: + ... didn’t give a damn if they were married to not. She had + them ... + ... didn’t give a damn if they were married or not. She had + them ... + + [p. 98]: + ... say. I was cold as hell with him. I tried to keep quiet about + it, ... + ... say. I was cold as hell with them. I tried to keep quiet + about it, ... + + [p. 113]: + ... good mother to it.” ... + ... good mother to it?” ... + + [p. 142]: + ... “Do you knew where he is?” ... + ... “Do you know where he is?” ... + + [p. 159]: + ... “Did she ... every really love me, Milo?” Laura asked it ... + ... “Did she ... ever really love me, Milo?” Laura asked it ... + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77570 *** |