Beebo Brinker Chronicles 2 - I Am A Woman, In Love With A Woman

by Ann Bannon

  "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, Laura. 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 12

  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. “What do you mean?” she said. “Your dress,” Marcie said, nodding at it.

  Laura looked down at it, Beebo had dragged it over the bathroom floor and the dirt, together with a hasty pressing job, made her look like she'd been through a scuffle. “Marcie,” she said, trying to control her voice, and not sure when she started talking what she was going to say, “Marcie, I didn't sleep with Jack."

  Marcie turned her eyes down to the book she was holding, and her expression said, Tell me another one. “With who, then?” she said.

  Laura pressed her lips together and sat down on Marcie's bed. I won't yell at her, she told herself. I can't take the chance. I'd say the truth, I'd blurt it out by mistake. “Marcie, I just ended up down in the Village."

  "Did you wander around all night?"

  "No. No.” She looked down at the floor. “Well, I—"

  "You what?” Marcie looked at her.

  "Marcie, I didn't spend the night with Jack.” Her voice begged for understanding. “Jack has friends.” Even in her mounting irritation Laura sensed jealousy and it thrilled her. “Yes, Jack has friends. And they aren't all men."

  "Don't tell me you spent the night with a girl. Ha! That's even better. You just hang around with anybody who's handy, don't you."

  "You aren't very choosy yourself, Marcie."

  "Only with Burr!” Marcie flashed angrily. “I only sleep with Burr. And I was married to him. Besides, I haven't let him touch me for weeks. You've never been married
, not to Jack or anybody else."

  "And I've never slept with Jack or anybody else."

  "I don't believe you!"

  Laura stood up and looked down at her. “You don't have to, Marcie,” she said. “What the hell do you care who I sleep with? Or why? Are you guardian of my morals? Yours aren't perfect, you know. I haven't slept with Jack, for your information. Not once. But if I had, what would it matter? You thought it was all a good joke at first."

  Marcie's face began to color. She put her book down and looked diffidently at Laura, who was standing by her dresser taking off her clothes. Marcie ran her fingers over her lips, as if warning herself to shut up and Laura thought to herself, Just like me. Just like me when Beth used to taunt me. I wanted her so. And I was so afraid.

  "I didn't know it would get so serious, at first. With Jack,” Marcie said, her attitude softening. “I feel like it's my fault, what you're doing, and I-I feel real bad about it I'm scared. Maybe you'll get into trouble, maybe you'll blame me then. You get so odd sometimes. I guess I'm just being selfish, Laur. But—” She gave an audible sigh that made Laura turn to glance at her. “Laur, will you tell me-will you please tell me-why you keep running out of here at all hours of the night? What am I doing wrong? If you don't tell me, I'm going to move out of here tomorrow, I swear. I can't stand it!"

  Laura had to tell her something. She had to lie and she couldn't lie and as she walked toward Marcie's bed, she felt something like panic at the thought of losing her. But when she sat down beside her something popped into her head and saved her. She didn't have to stammer and blush, and she didn't have to confess her homosexuality. She told Marcie about her father.

  She was almost ashamed to recount what had happened. It was humiliating, and it looked like a bald bid for sympathy. And yet she wanted terribly to touch Marcie's heart, to win her compassion. “He told the clerk he had no daughter.” She finished. Her shame made her drop her gaze and cover her face with her hands. But Marcie, suddenly moved, put her arms around Laura and cried.

  "Forgive me, Laura,” she whispered. “I've been a stupid idiot about this. I don't know what got into me. Honey, forgive me, I should never have tortured you about it. Whatever your father did to you, he must be a beast. He doesn't deserve to live."

  But that was going too far, even for Laura. There had been violent moments of shame and rejection, when she wanted to kill him. But there were others when she wanted only to be allowed to love him. “Don't say that, Marcie."

  Marcie looked up at her, her face so close that she gave Laura a start. “Don't tell me you still feel anything for him?” she said. “After what he did to you?"

  "I don't know what I feel. I hate him sometimes, Marcie, I hate him so much sometimes that I'm terrified of myself. I think ‘If he were with me right now-if he suddenly appeared-I'd kill him. I'd kill him!'” And she said it with such force that Marcie shuddered. “And then, other times, all I want to do is cry. Just cry till there aren't any tears left. Get down on my knees and beg him to love me."

  "It seems so crazy, Laur. My Dad is so nice and ordinary. I couldn't take it if he ever hurt me like yours. God, you must feel so alone. Laura, let me be close to you. Let me be friends with you. You haven't up to now, you know."

  Laura began to feel dizzy. This is too much, this is too easy, she thought, and pangs of conscience came up in her. All I have to do is pull her close, caress her, kiss her, all I have to do-oh, my God! But I can't! It'd be like corrupting her, like leading her astray. Damn! Why have I got a conscience? Beth didn't have one. Neither does Beebo. Why me? Why can't I just take her? But she was too afraid. “Laura, talk to me. You're off in another world again."

  Laura looked down at her, balanced between desire and fear, between desire and conscience, between desire and ... desire, desire ... “Marcie,” she whispered. “Remember the night you wanted to touch tongues?” Marcie laughed a little, embarrassed. “Yes,” she said. “I told Burr about it He says I'm cracked.” Laura was shocked. “You told Burr?” she said, hurt by the betrayal. “Well, don't look so horrified.” Marcie giggled. “Don't tell me you didn't tell Jack?” And Laura, by her sudden confusion, admitted that she had. With the admission, and the shock, came a clear head. She stood up. Marcie watched her. “I'm going to bed,” Laura said. “I'm too beat to talk. I'm just worn out.” Marcie let her go without a word. Her eyes followed Laura around the room. Laura ignored her studiously. She was asleep within minutes after she lay down, too tired even to worry. Laura knew she would have to lie to Sarah in the morning about where she spent the day before. She made up her mind to do it fast and simply. She organized a little story about a sick headache and she delivered it quickly, even before Sarah had a chance to ask. Sarah took it at face value. At the end of the day, she called Marcie and told her she'd be late. “I've got to stay here and catch up,” she explained. “I've done nothing but get behind the whole time Jean's been away. I just can't seem to get the work done. I'm not going to lose this job."

  "You're wearing yourself out, Laur. I think you're crazy. You can get a much softer job and earn a lot more money. In fact I talked to Mr. Marquardt about you."

  "You what?"

  "Yes.” She laughed. “Today. I thought it would be fun if we could be in the same office. Besides, I never saw anybody work like you do. It's insane, when all you have to do is sit around."

  "Marcie, I don't want to sit around! I don't need help! I can do this myself. I know you did it out of friendship but damn it, I want to work. I don't want to sit around on my behind all day, counting the minutes till the next coffee break."

  Marcie was taken aback by the forcefulness of it “Laura, I didn't mean—” she began, and her voice was hurt.

  "I know, I know. I'm grateful, Marcie, forgive me. But I have something to prove, staying here. It's only hard at first, when you're learning. It'll get easier. And in another two weeks there'll be three of us at the office."

  She knew she had hurt Marcie's feelings and when she hung up she wondered if it was worth it. Why don't I quit? Why don't I take a soft job, like Marcie? But she knew what scorn her father would pour on a job like that. It was only the tough ones, the ones that took it out of you, that demanded your best, that he had any respect for.

  Laura stayed on until nearly eight by herself. The building was crypt-quiet and she was deep in the last round of reports she intended to do, when the door opened and a voice said, “Laura!"

  Laura gave a gasp of shock, throwing her hands over her face. She was so startled that she found herself trembling all over. For a moment she was unable to move. “Laura?” he said again.

  Laura turned slowly around in her swivel chair, taking her hands away from her face. She looked up, her face cold and white and resentful. It was Burr. She didn't say a word. She only stared at him in surprise. She felt overflowing with hatred for him, as if Merrill Landon were standing there.

  Burr was somewhat taken aback. “Marcie said you were down here,” he said, a little awkwardly. “I wanted to talk to you.” He shrugged, and pulled Sarah's chair out from her desk, sitting down about five feet from Laura. She said nothing.

  "Laura,” he said, embarrassed. “We started out to be Pretty good friends, you and I.” He turned his hat around and around in his hands, studying it while he talked.

  "Then-I don't know why-we seemed to-well, we just don't have anything to say to each other. I guess maybe-Because we always talked about books. And Marcie. You don't seem to be reading any books any more. And Marcie well...” He seemed at a loss for words here. He twirled his hat assiduously, as if that might give him some answers. But it was no help. “Of course, I haven't been around much lately, either,” he said.

  Laura was suddenly a little scared. But she was determined not to be any more helpful than his hat. She only glared at him. She still hadn't said a word to him. After all, she thought, I haven't done anything. He still hasn't said what he wants.

  "Well, frankly Laura, Marcie's changed. I don't kno
w what the hell's come over her. I thought maybe you could help me out.” He eyed her closely. “I guess it sounds pretty silly. But I love her, and all of a sudden I can't even see her any more. I can't get near her. She's just not interested.” When Laura still said nothing he went on, “I mean, I know it's not your problem, but I thought, being her roommate, you know, you might help me out.” He looked up at her, smiling a little, but his smile faded when he saw the look on her face.

  Laura was thinking, Why the hell should I help you? But she said, “Why don't you stop fighting with her, Burr? Maybe that would help.” Her voice was faintly sarcastic.

  "When we fought,” he said, “at least we could always make up. That was fun. We both enjoyed it. Then all of a sudden, a couple of weeks ago, Marcie wouldn't fight any more. I don't know what the hell got into her. She just got quiet and thoughtful. She wouldn't fight and she wouldn't make love. I'm beginning to think she needed to fight before she could make love. Maybe that's the only thing that excited her.” He looked quizzically at Laura. “How would I know? Maybe you needed it,” Laura said, and shrugged.

  By her reticence she had made Burr uncomfortable. “Well, I know it isn't exactly the sort of thing to bother you with,” he said, making a visible effort to control his temper. “But damn it, Laura, I love her. She's my wife. I still think of her that way, I can't help it. I was a fool ever to let her have that divorce."

  "Do you think getting married again would change any of that?” Laura said. “Don't you think it would just be the same old fights all over again?"

  "I don't know.” He shook his head. “Maybe. But I'd rather live with Marcie and fight than live without her and be this miserable."

  "Does fighting make you happy?"

  "I don't mind it. Not enough to make me give her up again."

  "You talk like a kid, Burr,” she said, wondering what authority gave her the right to pronounce judgments. And then she reasoned that Burr himself gave her the right He asked for it. Okay, he'd get it “If you want to win Marcie back, find out what's the trouble and change it If you want my opinion-and I guess that's why you're here-I don't think you should go back together. I think Jack's right; you were never meant for each other. It's purely physical."