Part 21 (2/2)

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, s.h.i.+vering pa.s.sions 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 faultall 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 G.o.dd.a.m.n 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 pa.s.sionately. ”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 wors.h.i.+pped 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 pa.s.sion and rea.s.surance 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 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 b.u.m deal, but I was too selfish to see the good side. Even with Jack ... Oh my G.o.d, Jack. My poor darling. With him most of all.

”What are you thinking about?” Beebo asked her, seeing her absorption.

”II 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”

”Butbut 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 bas.e.m.e.nt 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 well always need each other a little. Maybe well 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 comeback.”

”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 h.e.l.lo.”

”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.

CHAPTER 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 bra.s.s 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 b.u.t.ton 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 Jackis 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 softy, 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, half-heartedly 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, Laurathat'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, crus.h.i.+ng 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 wornout love she had left. And she thought of Jack. There had been none of his usual piercing sarcasm in the note. Nothing but genuineness, 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 pa.s.sed 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 Miss 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.

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