by Joan Ellis
"Phyl?" a man's voice called out in amazement. "That you?"
“Oh, for heaven sake, Ed!" Phyl sighed with relief walking to the doorway of her office. "I thought you were a burglar."
"I slept over," he grinned, walking back inside to retrieve his shirt and tie. "I feel like a Bowery bum this morning. Would you consider going shopping for me in the nearest men's wear shop?"
“One of the girls can do that, if it's really necessary." Her eyes trailed past him, inside the office. He'd stayed over with one of his women, she guessed. The scent of a heavy perfume still lingered in the room.
"Now, now, Dr. Talbert," he chided, following her gaze, "you aren't going to be rashly suspicious of the tired physician?"
"What you do with your private life is your own business," she said frankly. "But why drag it into the office?"
"If my wife calls the hospital and I'm not there, she tries here. Where else would I be while sitting out a delivery?"
"You mean she still bothers to be suspicious?" Phyl jibed with surface good-humor.
"She remembers every now and then she's a doctor's wife and that it's routine for such to develop the jealous bit from time to time. I keep reminding her there's nothing seductive about a pregnant woman."
"But she keeps remembering about nurses and non-pregnant women." Phyl walked into Ed's office to pick up the book on the edge of his desk. "So this finally arrived." She picked up the book eagerly—it was a European printing, on obstetrics. "May I borrow it when you get through it?"
"Take it now," Ed grinned. "At my rate of reading it may take months."
"If you're not going to be reading it for the next week, I'll take you up on that." Eve didn't mind if she lounged about reading. For Eve, as for her, it was enough that the other was around, within seeing and touching distance.
"I've got more urgent reading to catch up on," he said meaningfully, letting his fingers trail down her arm. "It's a pity you're such an iceberg, Talbert. You could be a gorgeous chunk of woman."
"Stop practicing on me," she brushed this off calmly. "You've got hordes of gorgeous women panting for you."
"That's why you intrigue me," his voice sank to a suggestive whisper. "The hard-to-get gal is irresistible."
"Ed, stop it, will you?" Phyl sighed, then sought for a distraction. "You wouldn't by any chance know of someone who's interested in subletting an apartment, would you? An expensive one," she added wryly.
"Yours?" Ed lifted an eyebrow as he sat on the arm of the sofa.
"That's right." Now it was official, Phyl thought. "Assuming, of course, I find something else in the immediate vicinity."
"I might have somebody," Ed surprised her. "At your rent it'll probably cost me something every month—but she's worth it." He made a vulgar gesture of appreciation of certain qualities.
"I'll let you know the minute I find another place," Phyl said, with something close to relief because she'd discussed this with somebody else. Now she was sure she would go through with it. Eve would be completely a part of her life.
"What's bugging you about the apartment?" Ed asked curiously. "You wouldn't push me onto a dog, would you?"
"It's fine if you can stomach those prices," Phyl searched her mind for a reason for moving.
"You can afford it," Ed objected. "With our fees and your cut you can swing it with no trouble at all."
"Rent's like throwing money down the drain, the way I see it." Phyl reached for a cigarette from Ed's desk. "I'm going to share a place with a friend." She stumbled on the word, then hurried to cover. "Kid sister of a fellow I used to go with back home." That sounded great, she thought, pleased. "Eve's just come to New York to live and she'd like to share with somebody. It seems a natural."
"Interesting babe?"
"Hands off," Phyl said coldly.
"You've got an awfully low opinion of me, Doctor," he chided good-humoredly. "But this apartment-sharing may be a smart move. Maybe having another gal around will wake you up into realizing you're a woman, too."
"Stop worrying about me, Ed. You must have problems enough," she said pointedly.
"I like worrying about you." His eyes rested on the slim, well-proportioned legs, traveled upward. "And I always did go for the hard-to-land deals."
"I'm going to run out for coffee," Phyl said abruptly. "It's still so early."
"What's the matter?" his laughter followed her. "Afraid you might get raped?"
* * *
Phyl was impatient for the day to be over, to be able to sit across the table from Eve and tell her about the new apartment. Her last appointment at the office was canceled. She whipped through her hospital calls in half the customary time, through a series of lucky coincidences. An hour earlier than usual she was circling their block searching for a parking spot. She wouldn't tell Eve until they were sitting down to dinner, she decided. Then she'd make it something casual, like "I stopped in a rental agent's office—they think they might come up with a two-bedroom apartment within a few minutes walk of the hospital without too much trouble." Phyl's face softened with anticipatory pleasure as she visualized Eve's delighted surprise. She was like a sweet, unspoiled child sometimes.
Phyl sighted a free spot further down the block and headed for it. Just as she swung the car backward and prepared to straighten out the wheels, she caught sight of the engrossed pair of girls at the corner. Eve and some stranger! Eve's hand was on this girl's arm, her eyes clinging eagerly to the girl's face. Automatically, without being aware of her movements Phyl finished the business of parking, then sat at the wheel, staring numbly ahead. Who was the girl with Eve? Eve had told her she knew no one! But her hand had been on the other girl, her interest unmistakable! And Phyl had planned to risk taking her uptown into an apartment they'd share before the whole hospital, for her whole life! Hell, what a gullible fool she had been!
CHAPTER 10
"Thanks for all the info," Eve said gratefully, standing on the crowded corner chatting with the smiling pleasant-faced girl in jeans and sweater. "I think it'll work out just great."
"It's a swell deal for people like us," the girl agreed, "and they're glad to get us, too."
"Are you in the Square every day?" Eve asked hesitantly, not wanting to appear to be pushing herself.
"Most days." The girl glanced at her watch. "Golly, it's later than I thought. I'd better hurry home and get dinner started or I'll have my head bashed in. Probably see you tomorrow," she wound up good-naturedly, then sauntered off in the. direction of Bleecker.
Eve headed for the grocery store, a pleased little smile hovering about her mouth. She didn't turn back to where she might have seen the familiar red Triumph parked at the curb—and Phyl sitting tight-faced behind the wheel.
She was glad she'd met Carol Evans, Eve decided as she waited in the grocery store for her turn to be served. It had been fun talking with her as they sat around the fountain in the middle of Washington Square with the college kids and the teen-agers and the young mothers with toddlers. She hadn't felt that terrible loneliness that had a way of creeping over her by mid-afternoon. Later would be fine, when Phyl came home, but before that there were the long, empty hours when she was on her own. The first few days she'd kept herself busy working about the apartment. She'd scrubbed and polished and washed until Phyl had laughed and said she didn't recognize the place any more. Then she'd concentrated on fixing dishes she thought Phyl might enjoy. Eve laughed indulgently. Phyl was usually either too tired or too preoccupied to notice what she was eating at dinner. It was after two or three cups of coffee, with the phonograph going quietly in the background, that Phyl relaxed.
But what did women do with themselves in all those in-between hours, Eve asked herself. What had she done those hateful years when she'd been married to Joe, before she'd found Marian? She'd stayed in bed till noon or later, Eve remembered distastefully—she had dreaded the beginning of each new day. She'd worked frantically at keeping the house nice because this kept her mind off the night when
Joe would come home and there'd be more of those brutal, ugly battles in the bedroom. And she'd known people back home—not friends exactly but people with whom she'd wasted time talking about nothing at all. She'd pushed the days away.
"And now, our new little friend," the grocery clerk came beaming towards her. "Getting your place all fixed up now?"
"Yes, just about," Eve smiled. She even carried on lengthy discussions with grocery clerks now, Eve thought ruefully. "I just need a couple of things." She left quickly, and finished up her visit as though ashamed of dawdling in the store.
She wouldn't tell Phyl about Carol and her plans, Eve decided—not just yet. Phyl liked the idea of knowing she was there in the apartment—she liked thinking about Eve there when she was away. Eve wondered nervously if she was making a mistake. But she knew it would be better for both of them if she had something to occupy her during the day. Not that she'd wander off into a messy affair, the way some wives chased around during the day.
Eve quickened her steps as she neared the house. Phyl wouldn't be home for an hour probably, but she liked to be ready ahead of time, just in case. This was the hour she waited for all through the day—when Phyl's key would click in the door and Phyl's warm smile would again welcome her presence there in her apartment.
Phyl waited a full five minutes after Eve crossed the street, southbound, before she got out of the car. Her mind was in chaos. Who was that girl that Eve touched with such intimacy? How long had she known her? How well had she known her? Had they talked about Phyl, perhaps laughed at her gullibility?
Slowly, Phyl moved from behind the wheel into the street. She locked the car and walked to the sidewalk with a mounting reluctance to go to that apartment and face Eve. She wouldn't say anything about seeing her on the street. She'd wait for Eve to trip herself up, because that kind always did. Oh, but it was hard to believe that Eve could be using her this way! Eve, like her father, she thought brutally-charming, weak, and adulterous. This was a marriage, they'd told themselves—and Eve had seen fit to profane that marriage.
She stopped at the candy store across the street for a soda, to make sure Eve reached the house before she did. Her heart pounded traitorously as she saw Eve's slender figure skimming the sidewalk swiftly, her eyes glancing upward with such seeming eagerness. No doubt anxious to make sure she got home before the benevolent provider, Phyl thought harshly. At least she could be glad this had happened today, before she made a complete fool of herself and took Eve uptown with her.
There was no use delaying any longer. She might as well climb up those stairs, make with the great pretense. That's all it had been, she forced herself to admit with agonizing honesty. Eve was using her. She'd been out on a limb—no money, a new job she expected to lose any minute. Phyl had been a safe port in this storm.
Eve sat across the table from Phyl, knowing something was wrong, without being able to pin it down. Phyl hadn't said anything, but it was in the way she sat at the table, staring at her plate as she was doing now. This wasn't Phyl.
"Did something go wrong at the hospital today?" she asked timorously, her eyes pinned to Phyl's face. "A tough case?"
"No, everything was fine." Phyl kept her eyes averted.
"You're worried about something," Eve burst out, feeling left out again. "Phyl, can't I help?"
"There's nothing," Phyl said brusquely and got up from the table to bring in the coffee.
But there was something terribly wrong, Eve was sure. Why had Phyl gone into the kitchen that way for the coffee? Hadn't she always said she liked coffee after dinner, when the dishes were cleared away and they could smoke and relax? She'd gone into the kitchen because for some reason she was angry.
"Phyl, I don't know what it is I've done, but—"
Eve's voice trailed off as tears stung her eyes.
"Who was that girl today?" The words were wrung from Phyl in a whisper because she hadn't meant them to come out.
Eve's eyes widened in amazement. "Carol? The girl I met in the Square?" What did Phyl know about Carol?
"I saw you together there on the sidewalk. I saw the way you touched her!" Phyl's face was white with the anger of betrayal.
"The way I touched her?" Eve repeated numbly, and then with a clattering swiftness everything fell into focus. "I met Carol Evans a few hours ago, sitting in Washington Square. We got to talking and she gave me an idea about a—a problem I was trying to figure out."
"What kind of a problem?" Disbelief showed plainly in Phyl's tone. Why hadn't Eve come to her, if she had had a problem? She walked back to the table, busied herself pouring coffee.
"I've been thinking about a part-time job of some kind," Eve stumbled, feeling guilty somehow. "I don't have much to do here—the place is small—and I don't know people. Phyl, I just wander around like a stray puppy," she tried to laugh.
"Who is this Carol?" She would be fair, Phyl told herself. She'd listen to this story Eve was concocting.
"She lives down on Bleecker—her husband is a commercial artist. She takes some classes at NYU, to fill up time. I started talking to her, and we got on the subject of jobs and I said I'd like to work at something, but there was so little I could do. She told me if I took a typing course—I could learn in a few weeks—there are all kinds of part-time jobs I could land, especially through the temporary agencies. Carol says they're always looking for people. Phyl, would you mind so much if I did go to work once I learned to type?"
"That's all there was?" Phyl asked, shame enveloping her. "Oh, Eve, I don't know what's the matter with me!"
"Phyl, you know better!" Eve's eyes widened in reproach. "I'd never go to anyone else, never!"
"Eve, I hate myself for daring to think anything like that," Phyl said humbly.
"We'll forget about it." Relief and compassion blended together in Eve as she hurried from her seat to go to Phyl. "We won't either of us ever think that way again."
Phyl drew Eve down into her lap, grateful that she'd been so wrong. "We need ourselves a rest. I might be able to arrange a weekend away—would you like that?"
"It'd be wonderful." Eve deposited soft moist kisses on Phyl. "Some place with nobody around, where we can be ourselves."
"I'll fix it up, sweetie," Phyl promised, already anticipating a weekend away from the city, away from the hospital. "I'll talk to Bill and Ed tomorrow."
"And you won't mind about the typing course?" Eve nestled closely. "It won't cost much."
"Evie, don't talk as though I were doling out pennies," Phyl protested tenderly. "If you want something, you'll have it." Now Phyl remembered why she'd rushed home with such intensity today, why she'd been here early enough to make that horrible mistake about Eve's acquaintance from the Square. "How would you like to move out of here, uptown near the hospital? I should be able to sublet the small place—we can find something bigger, for the two of us."
Eve drew away briefly, her hazel eyes dark with excitement. "Phyl—a place together, all the time?"
"That's what I have in mind," Phyl chuckled, her arms tightening about Eve. "If you're interested."
"Phyl, you know it's what I want more than anything else!"
Eve's mouth sought Phyl's, to convince in the strongest manner she knew.
Thank God she'd been wrong about that scene in the street, Phyl thought gratefully. How easily she might have wrecked all of this! And then she forgot to think because Eve's mouth was demanding. Eve's body was demanding, and she was impatient to give.
* * *
Phyl was amazed at the speed with which the real estate broker came up with prospective apartments in the area, though at the prices demanded it wasn't so surprising, she reminded herself later. She took Eve with her before making a final choice, delighting in the girl's pleasure. The broker had thought nothing of it, Phyl had complimented herself later—they were simply two people interested in an apartment because it was less expensive to share.
Things were working out nicely, Phyl thought as she came into the office
for her afternoon appointments. The apartment they'd decided upon wouldn't be available for three weeks, which gave her time to sublet her present apartment. She'd talked to Ed about a weekend off the leash, and this weekend would be clear. They'd drive upstate somewhere, she decided, waiting for the secretary to send in her first appointment.
Phyl switched on the warm welcoming smile that was part of the routine as Della Cole clattered into the office on her absurdly high heels.
"How are you, Della?" She inspected the sulky, attractive face with compassion. How Della Cole hated being pregnant! And it wasn't an easy pregnancy for her, Phyl admitted.
"Miserable," Della said frankly. "When is this stupid child going to be born anyway?"
"Any time now, Della," Phyl soothed pleasantly, and under her breath she added—not this weekend, please!
"Never again," Della swore, her painstakingly made-up eyes inspecting Phyl. "This whole bit was a horrible mistake, you know. Lorne had to prove his manhood—though why he bothered when everybody knows, I can't figure out."
"Knows what?" Phyl accepted the chart Miss Rogers silently brought into the office.
Della waited till Miss Rogers had closed the door behind them. "Lorne's gay. A wife was a convenience. We look so well together—Lorne, his current love, and me. Only he had to get ideas!"
"Why did you marry him?" Phyl asked curiously.
Della smiled lazily. "He makes a terrific income, so I figured why not? I never thought he'd come bothering me. The one time he decides to get cute, I get pregnant!" Her eyes were regarding Phyl with a knowing intensity.
"Let's go into the examining room and see what's doing," Phyl said with forced lightness. Della suspected her, she guessed nervously. How had she given herself away?
"I'm glad I was tipped off to you, Dr. Talbert," Della murmured with deliberate sultriness. "I couldn't stand a man obstetrician."
The phone rang sharply, jarring Phyl. "Excuse me," she smiled mechanically and reached for the phone. "Hello, Dr. Talbert."