I am a woman
nervous? This isn’t the first time I’ve driven you over to Jack’s. If
you don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong how can I ever do anything
right?” Her voice broke. “I feel as if I’m making your life intolerable.
As if you’d rather move in with Jack and live in sin than put up with
me. You might as well, you spend so much time in his bed.”
“Marcie! Marcie, I don’t!” Laura was thunderstruck.
“I’ve already talked to him, so don’t deny it, Laura.”
“Marcie, honey, listen to me. I—” She looked up at Beebo and the look on
Beebo’s face silenced her. “Marcie, we’ll have a long talk tonight. I’ll
try to explain it to you. We can’t talk over the phone.”
There was a brief pause on Marcie’s end. Then she said, “Are you at
Jack’s now?”
“I—no—I’m at the office.”
“You must have just gotten there. I’ve been trying to get you all
afternoon.”
Laura got more bewildered, more tongue-tied, the more she lied. “Marcie,
I can’t talk now,” she said urgently. “Please. I’ll come right home.
I’ll explain.”
“All right, Laura. But I’ll tell you right now, I’m ready to move out if
you want me to. I’m sick and tired of getting on your nerves and not
knowing why.”
Laura shut her eyes and tried to control her voice.
“Laura? Are you still there?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll see you tonight, Marcie.” She hung
up and turned a pale face to Beebo.
Beebo snorted and opened the refrigerator door. “She still straight?”
she asked sarcastically.
Laura was stung. “No,” she flung at her. “She’s falling in love with
me.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Bo-peep.”
“I’m not kidding. And I’m not blind. She’s jealous of Jack. She thinks I
spent the night with him and it’s her fault. She wants me home.”
“How sweet,” said Beebo and chucked her under the chin. Laura pushed her
hand away impatiently.
“My clothes should be dry by now,” she said, getting up.
“Call Jack,” said Beebo. “Ask him what he told your roommate.”
Laura hated to do anything Beebo suggested, just because Beebo suggested
it. But Beebo was right. Laura called him at the office. She got him
five minutes before closing.
“I found out from Mortin—the bartender at The Cellar,” he said, “And if
you pull another fast one on me, Mother, by Jesus, I’m going to let you
stew in your own juice. I called you a dozen times last night. You must
have been out on Cloud Nine. Marcie’s mad as hell. She thinks I’m
corrupting you.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Laura said earnestly. “Jack, what would I do
without you?”
“I don’t know. But I wish to hell _you_ did. Marcie’d like to see me
behind bars.”
“Jack, isn’t that a good sign? I mean she seems almost jealous.”
“Oh, Christ,” he said, and then he laughed. “You’re really goofy for
her, aren’t you?”
Laura looked up at Beebo. “Yes,” she said. “I am.”
“Well, watch it. I don’t know what to tell you. Nothing seems to
register. If I say ‘she’s not gay’ to you once more I’ll sound like a
broken record. But she’s not. I don’t want to see you get stabbed,
that’s all. Better you should blow off steam with Beebo until you get
over Marcie.”
“I’ve blown off about as much steam as I can stand,” Laura said, and
Beebo laughed. “I’m through.”
“Don’t be so dogmatic, Mother mine. You’ll only have to swallow your
words and you’ll look like an ass doing it.”
Laura wouldn’t believe him when he told her Marcie was straight. She
wouldn’t because she didn’t want to. She had told him, she had even told
Beebo now, that Marcie was falling for her. She didn’t dare believe it
herself, but if somebody else did, maybe somehow that would help. Her
desire, her pride, trapped her. “Thanks again, Jack,” she said. “One of
these days I’m going to do the same for you. I swear.”
“One of these days you may have to. And Laura—”
“Yes?”
“Watch out for Burr. You’re on his black list.”
“What’d I do?”
“He thinks you’re turning his pretty little sex-pot into a neurotic.
He’s jealous.”
Laura smiled, surprised.
“Well?” said Beebo, when she hung up. “Going home to your little wife?”
She grinned.
“Beebo, sometimes you make me sick.”
“I know. I’m enough to make you go straight. Go sleep with Jack tonight,
it’ll do him a world of good.”
“Oh, shut up!”
“At least it’ll give him a whopper to tell his analyst.”
Laura turned on her heel and left the room. She felt her clothes,
hanging in the bathroom. They were still damp, but dry enough to iron.
She brought them into the kitchen. “Where’s the ironing board?” she
said.
“Pretty determined, aren’t you?”
“I certainly am.”
“I’ve got dinner ready. You can eat before you go.” There was a faint
tone of pleading in her voice, as if she knew the time had gone when
sheer force was useless. Laura had made her mind up.
“I don’t want another thing from you, not even dinner.”
“No, not for another day or two,” Beebo said and her voice became
rougher as she talked. “You just want to run down for kicks once or
twice a week. I’m pretty damn convenient, aren’t I?” She pulled the
board out from the wall and plugged the iron in, her movements sharp and
angry. Laura felt a little afraid of her. Her blue eyes snapped and
there was no trace of her usual humor in her face.
“You’re the bitch, Laura, not me. You’re using me,” she said. “Go on,
iron the damn thing.” She waved a hand at Laura’s dress and Laura spread
it out on the board.
“I’m sorry, Beebo,” Laura said, taken aback.
“Sure you are.”
“All right, Beebo,” she said softly. “I won’t bother you any more.
Ever.”
Beebo snorted at her. “You try it and I’ll beat you, I swear I will,”
she said. “I’ve had enough from you, Laura. I’m not made of stone. Am I
nothing to you? Am I supposed to _believe_ I’m nothing to you? Do you
think I like to stand and listen to you slobber over that simpering
little roommate of yours? Can she give you what I can give you? Well
damn it, _can_ she?”
Laura couldn’t face her, much less answer her. She only worked the iron
over her dress and glanced at Beebo’s shoes.
Beebo’s voice softened a little. “Jesus, what a mess,” she said, leaning
on the refrigerator. “Here I am falling for you. I ought to have my head
examined. I ought to know better.” She came over to Laura and took the
iron out of her hands and Laura had to look at her. “Laura,” Beebo said,
leaning toward her, “I’m nuts for you. I wasn’t kidding.” They gazed at
each other, Laura surprised and scared and flattered all at once. “I
need you, baby,” Beebo whispered. “Please stay.”
“I can’t, Beebo,” Laura said.
“You don’t really think you’re in love with that little blonde, do you?”
“Yes.”
Beebo shook her head and shut her eyes for a minute. “Jack says she’s
straight. Jack is a shrewd boy. Don’t you believe him?”
“No.”
“You want to get the Miseries, Baby? That’s the quickest way.”
“You don’t know her, Beebo. Even Jack doesn’t know her as I do. She’s
changing. She seems interested in me. She’s sort of approachable. She
doesn’t even want to see her ex-husband anymore. She wants to stay home
at night with me. She breaks dates with him to do it.”
“All right.” Beebo turned away. “Suppose she’s gay. Suppose she is. What
then?” She turned to look sharply at Laura.
Laura was stumped. She had never looked beyond the present into that
possibility. What would it be like, just the two of them, both gay,
living together, in love? “Well, then everything will be wonderful,” she
said.
Beebo gave a short unpleasant laugh. “Yeah,” she said. “Wonderful. You
walk hand in hand into the sunset.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Beebo. I never made a secret of my feelings
for Marcie.”
“I never made a secret of mine for you, baby.”
“We’d never do anything but fight, Beebo.”
“Fight and make love. I could live forever on such a diet.” She smiled a
little.
“It would drive me crazy. I couldn’t take it.”
“Do you think there won’t be fights with your little Marcie if she turns
out gay?”
“I suppose there will.”
“You know damn well there will. And if she’s straight, what happens? She
reads you the Riot Act. Calls the cops. Sics her husband on you.”
“She wouldn’t do any of those things, Beebo. She’s a sweet girl. She
wouldn’t get wild like you.”
“Not according to Jack. You’ve known her four months. Jack’s known her
for years.” Beebo lighted a cigarette and blew the smoke through her
nose. “Want to know something, Bo-peep? Want to know what it’s like?
I’ve had it happen to me—more than once. If you’re gay, it just happens
now and then, that’s all. You get the bug for some lovely kid and you
can’t keep it to yourself. You get closer and closer. And if she plays
along it’s worse and worse. And finally you give in and you grab for
her. And she turns to ice in your arms.”
She looked at Laura and there was a deep regret in her eyes. “And she
gets up with the God-damnedest sort of dignity and walks across the room
and says ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for you. Now go away. Don’t talk,
don’t try to explain, I don’t want to hear. It makes me sick. Just go
away, and I won’t tell our friends. You don’t need to worry. Just so I
never see you again.’ It makes you heartsick, baby. You get so sick
inside. You give yourself the heaves. All you want in God’s world is to
get the hell out of your own skin and be normal. Fade into the crowd
like a normal nobody.” She crushed her cigarette out, grinding it into
the ashtray with her thumb till the paper burst and the brown tobacco
spilled out.
Laura felt closer to her. All the insults of the day faded in her mind.
She walked over to her, her pressed dress over one shoulder. “Beebo,”
she said softly.
But Beebo wasn’t ready to let herself be touched. “Just remember one
thing,” she said. “Too many Marcies in your life, and you commit
suicide. That’s what it is to be gay, Laura. Gay.” Laura stepped back a
little shocked. “Sometimes all it takes is one,” Beebo said.
“No,” Laura whispered. “Oh, no.”
“Okay, baby, go find out for yourself. I can’t stop you, Jack can’t stop
you.” Beebo’s eyes were brilliant with bitterness, with the hard
knowledge of her own experience. “Go play with your little blonde.
You’ll find out soon enough she has claws. And teeth. And when you get
to playing the wrong games with her, she’ll use them.”
“Never!” Laura said. “Even if she’s straight she won’t hurt me. She’s
not that kind.”
“She doesn’t _have_ to hurt you, idiot. Can’t I get that through your
head? All she has to do is say ‘no thanks’. Kindly. Sympathetically.
Hell! If you want her bad enough, you’ll die of it. I know, Laura, I
know!” And she took Laura’s shoulders and shook her head until Laura
felt like sobbing. Beebo released her suddenly and they stood in
silence, unable to talk, heavy with feeling, trembling.
Finally Beebo said quietly, “Go on, baby. Go home and get it over with.
You’ve been warned.” All the fight seemed gone out of her.
When Laura left, Beebo came to the door with Nix at her heels. She was
unsmiling. “Come back, baby,” she said. “To stay. Or don’t come back at
all.” And when Laura turned away without answering she called after her,
“I mean it!”
Chapter Twelve
Laura entered the penthouse and walked slowly back to the bedroom. It
was hard to imagine Marcie’s mood. Marcie looked up from her bed, her
hair in pincurls. She was a relief to Laura’s eyes after the stormy,
ranting handsomeness of Beebo. Marcie looked beautiful, even with tin
clips in her hair. But she looked cool, too; ready for a fight.
Laura slipped her jacket off without a word, thinking of the loud
quarrels she and Beth used to have. And how they resolved them with
love. A little curl of excitement twisted around her innards.
“Well?” Marcie said sharply. “Did he throw you down in the street?”
Laura was startled, offended. Marcie had no right to say such a thing.