I am a woman
happy and relieved. She couldn’t help that. She felt physically good,
for the first time in over a year, and she had Beebo to thank for it.
“You’re different,” Jack said, smiling. “You look good. I don’t care how
tired you are. It’s becoming—love.”
“That wasn’t love.”
“What was it, then?”
“Just purely physical. Animal. Vulgar.”
“Love has a body, Laura. Eyes and lips, legs and sex. We humans can’t
help that.”
“Love is bigger and better than that. There hasn’t been any of that with
Marcie and me, but I love her.”
“That’s idealistic crap.”
Laura gasped, her eyes widening in sudden anger, but he interrupted her
sharp retort before she could make it.
“Love is no bigger and better than the people who feel it,” he said.
“What has your love for Marcie got you? A fat neurosis, a lot of misery,
and a night in bed with somebody you hardly know because you couldn’t
stand it any longer. If that’s what makes it bigger and better, the hell
with it. Feed it to the crocodiles.” And he turned brusquely away.
Laura stared at him, unable to answer him. It struck her harshly that he
might be right. “But I love Marcie,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Sure. You love her because she looks like Beth, or whatever the hell
her name is.”
Laura was shocked. “No, no, Jack you don’t understand. That has nothing
to do with it. I love her.” He turned to look at her, cynicism written
plain on his face. “I love her because—”
“Because she’s under the same roof with you, two feet away when you go
to bed at night. Because she’s young and pretty. Because you can’t have
her.”
“Because I can’t have her!” she exclaimed contemptuously. “That’s
exactly why I’m so miserable, you idiot! I love her so much—”
“We all do. She’s a great girl,” he said, so vaguely and quietly, that
it calmed her a little.
But when Marcie said, “What are you two talking about?” Laura jumped,
visibly startled. “Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Marcie said. She had
made up her mind to treat Laura gently and carefully. Burr came in
noisily behind her. “Hi, Laura,” he said, and stared at her pale face.
“I didn’t hear you coming,” Laura said nervously. She wondered what
Marcie had told Burr, and suddenly it was too much to stand there and
face them. “I’m going to bed,” she said suddenly, briefly. “I didn’t
sleep much last night.” It came to her then that she didn’t know what
she was supposed to have done last night at all. Jack hadn’t told her.
Jack, faster than Laura when he was on the spot, said, “Laura spent the
night with Beebo Brinker. She’s an old friend of mine.” He spoke to Burr
who apparently didn’t know what to think.
_Damn Jack!_ Laura thought. _He didn’t have to say her name. That
ridiculous name!_
Chapter Nine
Marcie tried to be understanding with Laura when they were alone later.
She said, “Jack told me all about it, Laura. I understand.”
_What did he tell you? What do you understand? Why didn’t he tell me?_
She didn’t know how to act with Marcie. Her discomfort made her awkward
and for the first time she found herself wishing to be without her for a
little while. She didn’t want Marcie to try to comfort her. She just
wanted to let it blow over.
But Marcie was a warm-natured girl, and she was curious. She wanted to
sit on Laura’s bed and talk about it. She kept saying, “Tell me about
it, Laur. Tell me what happened. Don’t you know I wouldn’t be shocked?”
At this point Laura revolted. “No, I _don’t_ know!” she said, and was
immediately sorry. She raised her hand to her mouth. “Marcie, please.
Please drop it.”
“I’m sorry, Laur. I can’t do anything right tonight.” She looked so
disheartened that Laura had to smile at her a little.
“You do everything right, Marcie,” she said soothingly. “I’m the one
who’s wrong. No, it’s true. I’m not like you. I can’t confess to
people.”
“You tell Jack things.”
Laura was suddenly alert, alarmed. “How do you know?” she demanded.
“What things?”
“Oh, you’re always going off and talking. Like this morning. Why don’t
you have long talks with me?”
Laura sighed, relieved. “I don’t know. Jack is so easy to talk to,
Marcie.”
“Does that mean I’m not? I try to be.” She smiled invitingly.
Laura, who had been lying on her bed, raised herself up on her elbows.
“I never say these things like I mean them,” she apologized. “I only
mean, I—” _I can’t talk to you because I’m in love with you, that’s what
I mean. But that’s not what I can say._
She rolled over on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. Marcie
sat motionless for a minute, afraid to say anything and start her off
again. Then she leaned over her and touched her shoulders. “You don’t
have to tell me, Laura, honey,” she said. “I guess I shouldn’t pester
you. Jack says you’ve been through a lot and that’s why you’re nervous.
I don’t want to make you unhappy, Laura. I’m afraid I do sometimes. I
don’t know why, I just get the feeling now and then, when you look at
me, that I make you sad. Do I?”
Laura’s nails cut into her smooth white forehead. “Marcie, don’t torture
me,” she said. Her voice was low and strained. It was such an odd thing
to say that Marcie withdrew, and climbed into her own bed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling the covers up and turning out the
light. Then she put her hands over her face suddenly and sobbed.
“Oh, Marcie!” Laura was out of bed before she had time to think, sitting
next to Marcie and holding her. “Don’t cry, Marcie. Oh God, why can’t I
ever say anything right?” She implored the ceiling for an answer. “I
didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Marcie slowed down and stopped almost as suddenly as she began. “I
know,” she said. “I know what it is. I used to drive Burr nuts this way,
asking questions and talking and talking. And when he wouldn’t answer, I
just kept asking more and more till I drove him crazy. I don’t know why.
I guess I _wanted_ to drive him crazy. But I don’t know why I do it to
you.” She looked away, embarrassed. Laura’s arms tightened involuntarily
around her. She had no idea how to answer this unexpected outburst. She
was afraid to try to comfort Marcie, for the very act of soothing her
brought Laura’s own emotions to a boil. The safest course was to get
back in bed at once and forget it. Or at least, stop talking. But Marcie
was clinging to her and she couldn’t roughly shake her off.
“I’ve learned a lot from living with you, Laur,” Marcie said quietly.
Laura listened, her nostrils full of the scent of flowers. “This may
sound silly to you but—don’t take this wrong, Laura—but I admire you, I
really do. You have a quality of self control that I could never learn.
You keep your thoughts to yourself. If you don’t have anything to say,
you don’t _say_ anything. If you don’t want to talk, you don’t.”
She looked up and laughed a little ruefully. “I talk all the time, as if
I had to. Just living with you, I’m beginning to see it. I talk all the
time and say nothing. You almost never talk, but when you do it’s worth
listening to.”
Laura began to squirm uncomfortably, but Marcie grasped her sleeves and
continued. “You know something, Laur? I think I just drove Burr crazy. I
talked him to death.”
“He still loves you, Marcie.” Laura found her hand on Marcie’s hair,
without quite knowing how she had let it happen. “He wants you back.”
“I know. We’ve hardly quarreled at all this week, Laur. You haven’t been
around much, you haven’t seen us. But we’ve been getting along unusually
well. But the screwy part is, it’s not like I thought it would be.”
“You mean, you miss the quarrels?”
“I mean I just wish he wouldn’t come around so much any more. I want
time to change. To think.”
“Think about what?”
“About me. No, about anything _but_ me. That’s all I ever thought about
before. You think about other things. You know what’s going on. You come
home at night and you read all these books that are sitting around. You
can’t even talk to me about them, because you know how stupid I am.”
Laura was astonished. All these critical thoughts had gone through
Marcie’s head, and Laura hadn’t been aware of it. Marcie had been
watching her, admiring her, and she hadn’t known that either. _I’m plumb
blind_, she thought. _And I thought I couldn’t know Marcie any better.
Because I love her. And she talks like this to me. God!_
“Marcie, you don’t need to read books. It’s just a bad habit for
introverts.” Marcie shook her head silently while Laura went on.
“Beautiful girls like you don’t need to read,” she said.
“That’s just it,” Marcie said. “I’m not going to be just another pretty
idiot. I want to know something. I’m sick of knowing absolutely nothing.
I want to be different. I want you to help me.”
_She wants me_, Laura thought happily. _She wants me._ It was all she
heard.
“When you were gone all night with Jack—” She paused and looked away.
“—I started to think. I couldn’t sleep, I don’t know why. I was thinking
about you, Laur. I was wondering why you never talk to me, why we have
so little to say to each other. We sit at the breakfast table and read
the paper and go off without anything more than ‘good morning’. At night
we go to bed and sometimes I talk, but it’s not a conversation. You
listen, I guess you listen.”
“I do!”
“And I say the wrong things. And you go to pieces, like Friday night.”
“No.”
“Or else you run away. You go sleep with Jack.”
“Marcie!”
“I know you were with Jack again last night. He didn’t have to lie to me
about it.”
“But he didn’t. I wasn’t!”
“Now don’t _you_ lie to me!”
Laura stared at her, unable to speak.
“Help me, Laura,” Marcie said, leaning toward her. “I want to change.
I’m sick of myself. I’m sick of Burr.”
The strangest craziest feeling started up in Laura; just an echo,
faraway in herself. _She wants me to help her, to be with her. She
admires me. Dear God, I’m afraid to wonder how much._ A very small smile
curved the corners of her mouth.
“I have to start somewhere,” Marcie said. “I want to talk to you like an
intelligent human being, not an ignoramus.”
Laura smiled at her. Almost without her realizing it, her hand had
stolen back to Marcie’s yellow hair. “Do you, Marcie?” she said. It was
a simple question, but it asked a thousand others.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I’m fed up with myself. I never realized, till I lived
day-in-day-out with you, how much I’d been missing. Give me a book to
read, Laur.”
“In the morning.” Laura smiled at her and got up, edging away from her
bed.
“Now.”
“It’s too late, Marcie. You won’t read anything now.”
“I want to tell Burr I read a book.”
“I’ll give you something later,” Laura said. It sounded strangely
insinuating, the way she said it. She scared herself. She ducked into
her bed as into a safe harbor, and hid her body under the blankets.
With a sigh Marcie turned the light out. After a moment’s silence she
whispered, “Laur? Will you talk to me after this? Really talk to me?
Tell me things?”
“I’ll try,” Laura murmured, frowning in the dark. She lay in bed
daydreaming for hours, seeing the first signs in Marcie of an influence
she had been unaware of. Where would it lead? What doors would it open?
Would it lead them both to bitterness? Or mutual ecstasy?
* * * * *
In the morning Laura was very matter-of-fact. She almost ignored Marcie.
She made her work for her attention and it delighted her that Marcie was
willing to work for it. Instinctively Laura knew she had to play hard to
get, and she liked to play that way for once.
At breakfast, after a few false starts, Marcie blurted, “I’ll be late
tonight.” She put her paper down and faced Laura.
Laura looked up slowly. “Date with Burr?” she said.
“No. Mr. Marquardt is having some out-of-town guests for dinner