"Let it rest. Let's have the drink." He came to her side.
"I think I'd like to be alone for a while."
"I'd like to stay."
"I'd like you to go. Please."
"Beth."
"Go on, Ben." She stared at him, then walked into her bedroom.
She didn't close the door and he followed.
Her robe was spread-eagled on the bed. Pendleton looked around the
room. Before, there had been one carved stool at the vanity table. Now
there were two.
Pendleton left the apartment and ran down the hall, taking short,
shallow breaths. But he couldn't just leave her. He bit his lip and
went back through the still open door.
"Come on, Beth. Don't be stubborn," he said into the bedroom, watching
the two stools.
He waited an hour. Then he turned off the lights and started to
leave. Going out this time, he stepped on one of the wooden beads and
almost fell onto the coffee table.
Pendleton slammed Beth's door and went out into the clear night. If she
could be stubborn, so could he.
* * * * *
It was almost two weeks before she called him to apologize. She'd
got him at the agency. He didn't stay in his apartment much. He kept
talking to himself if he did.
You could see the street from the little Italian restaurant they'd
agreed to meet in. Pendleton sat at a round table close to the wide
window and watched for Beth. There was a slight haze in the afternoon
air and most of the secretaries that passed were coatless.
Beth started smiling a quarter of a block from him. She was in a light
cotton dress, weaving in and out of the noontime pedestrians.
"Nice day," Pendleton said, standing.