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.