by Orrie Hitt
They finished one bottle and started on a second one. Cherry tried not to look at Millie but she couldn’t stop herself. Those breasts were so high and proud, so full and round. Suddenly Cherry envied them.
Millie got up to get some cigarettes and when she sat down again she sat close to Cherry. Their thighs touched, warm flesh against warm flesh. Cherry noticed that Millie didn’t light a cigarette.
“You’re beautiful,” Millie said quietly.
“You told me that before.”
“And I meant it.”
“Thanks.”
“You shouldn’t let Tom use you. Don’t let him use you. What can you get out of it? You’ll be careless some night and then you’ll be as bad off as I am.”
“I won’t.”
“A man is an animal and he thinks like an animal. You have to understand that. You may think that’s love but it isn’t. There is only one kind of love that is real.”
Cherry didn’t know what Millie was talking about but she felt a smooth arm come around her shoulders. And she felt something else. She felt Millie’s free hand come up and touch her on one breast.
“You’re so lovely,” Millie breathed.
The mouth that found Cherry’s lips was wide open and hot. The hand on her breast began to hurt and she moaned.
“Let me,” Millie whispered. “Let me!”
Without thinking she returned the kiss and her own hands sought Millie’s flesh. This time the moan wasn’t from pain. It came from within her, a moan of happiness and expectation.
“I want you to,” Cherry said. “I want you to. Terribly.”
She had belonged to men, many men, but there had never been anything like this. What she felt now was love, a burning love that swept everything else aside, a love that filled her with joy. Again and again she responded, crying out as she did, crying out for all of the wonderful satisfaction the world had to offer. And again and again she was pleased, pleased beyond all meaning, pleased until her body was drained of all passion and she lay limp.
“I love you,” Millie said once.
It was an afternoon of love and liquor and madness.
“I love you,” Millie said again and again.
And again and again she proved it.
That evening Cherry drank alone in the little bar down the street. Now that the frenzy of the afternoon was gone she hated herself. What was she, anyway? A lesbian? It hardly seemed possible, And yet —
“Another one, miss?”
“Another one.”
“If you don’t mind me saying so I’ve never seen you go at it so hard and fast.”
“I’m thinking.”
She lit a cigarette and waited for the drink. She had to think. God, she had to do something. But what could she do? She had fallen into a net and, frankly, she had liked it. She had given her body to another girl, a girl who had known how to make love. Cherry hadn’t been an innocent victim. She had seen it coming and she had done nothing to prevent it.
She stirred her drink and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the bar.
She wished suddenly that she had married Joe, that she had gone with him and led a normal life. But there was no turning back now. She had made her choice and it could not be changed. She had to face the truth.
“Another?”
“Another.”
She would be drunk by the time she got to the photo shop but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything. Her life had gone in the wrong direction, twisting everything out of shape.
Should she move? Should she run away? She didn’t know.
But could she go on the way she was, going down and down and down?
A man at the bar tried to pick her up and she laughed at him. She didn’t want a man. Or did she? Maybe she needed a man who was so much of a man that he would make her forget about everything else.
She left the bar and took a taxi to the shop. Strangely enough, she was almost completely sober. Perhaps the tension had something to do with it. She had once read that if you were all keyed up liquor seldom affected you.
Tom was in the back room. He whistled when he saw her.
“New dress?”
“Last week.”
“I like it.”
The dress was pink and a new style. It had few frills and hugged her figure, especially around the bust and thighs. The woman at the store said she looked as though she had been poured into it.
“Thanks, Tom.”
For some reason she liked to please him. He made a lot of money but he seemed lonely in many ways.
“She left,” Tom said.
“Who left?”
“My wife. This morning. For Reno. I think the man she’s been running with went along with her. I don’t care. I gave her enough dough for the both of them. They can play house and in six week I’ll be rid of her.”
When Cherry was working in the photo shop she had met Tom’s wife and hadn’t cared for the girl. She had come from a wealthy family and looked down on any one who worked for a living. But she had been pretty, very pretty.
“Now I’m all alone in that big house,” Tom was saying.
“I know how you feel.”
“I doubt if you do. She was a tramp but she was my wife. I loved her once. When we first went out she wouldn’t even let me kiss her. Now she’s going to have another man’s kid. How do you figure people?”
“People change.”
She knew that she had changed. That afternoon she had become an entirely different person with the help of Millie Cain’s furious passion. She had stepped into the realm of twilight love and enjoyed it.
“What kind of pictures tonight?” she asked.
“Nudes. The man who buys my stuff says they are going well. The boys come back for more and more of you and that’s what we want. He used to get a buck a set but now he sometimes gets two, especially of those hot ones we took, the ones meant for that book.”
“What happened to the book?”
“Nothing — until the guy can get a printer to touch it. It isn’t easy. If they get caught with the stuff in their plant they’re in trouble. What they do is print it fast and run it right out. Then the copies go to salesmen who sell to stores that keep the books under the counter. They have regular customers and make a nice profit. Some of the books bring up to ten dollars a copy.”
“The one we did the pictures for?”
“No, not that one. That one would be about five because you were alone. The kicks would depend on a dirty text. Have you ever seen any of those books?”
“No.”
He walked to the desk.
“I have a few here. While we have a drink you can look at them.”
He poured liquor into paper cups and she looked at a couple of the books. They were the most disgusting and degraded things she had ever seen.
“Filth,” she said.
“Read some of the passages.”
She did. There was nothing left out, nothing. The four-letters words were quite clear even though the printing was terrible.
“What kind of men buy these books, Tom?”
“You’d be surprised. Some of them are big shots and family men. The same is true of our movies. They look for something outside of the home that they don’t get at home. At least, that’s what I think.”
She threw the books aside and finished her drink. This was slime, pure slime, and she was a part of it. In that moment money didn’t seem very important. Self-respect was. But had she any left? It would seem that she had lost a lot of it in the apartment on Gordon Road.
“Shall we get started?” she asked.
“Can’t wait to get it over with?”
“Something like that.”
He poured another drink for himself.
“I’m not going out to the barn tonight,” he said. “I don’t feel like it. I called the kids and told them to take the night off.”
“Did you call Millie?”
“Yes, and she sounded drunk.”
“Perhaps she was.”
“No doubt. She’s usually potted when she comes out to the barn. That isn’t unusual. A lot of the girls dull their feelings with booze. Sometimes I can’t blame them.”
He insisted that she have another drink and she did. One of the books lay open on the desk and a lewd picture stared up at her. How could a girl go that far? How could a man? Yet she knew that she had no right to criticize. She was as bad as the others and, in some respects, she might even be worse. These girls did what they did for money; she had done the same thing for fun.
“I’ll give you good pictures tonight,” she said, dropping the empty cup into a wastebasket.
“You’ve given me some great ones before.”
“Have I?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I might be in the mood tonight.” She opened the front of her dress. “Have a free look.”
He stared at her.
“Wow, that booze hit you,” he said.
Suddenly she felt reckless. What was she? Not much. But she had sex appeal and she would make it pay well. To hell with the singing and the dancing. How many girls got very far doing either one? Not many. And to hell with worrying about being a lesbian. The afternoon had been a mistake and she would never repeat it. She would get every cent that she could from what she was doing. Then she would find a decent man and marry him.
“You like?” she asked, pulling the dress down from her shoulders. “You like, Tom?”
“Say, what’s gotten into you?”
She laughed at him.
“You want pictures,” she said, moving toward the door to the rear room. “I’ll give you pictures. I’ll give you pictures like you’ve never seen before.”
She waited for him to unlock the door and then they were in the room. It was dark but he made no move to turn on the lights.
“You’re missing something,” she said as she pulled the strapless away from her body. “You’re missing plenty, Tom.”
He grabbed her, turned her around and pulled her in close to him. When he spoke his mouth was over her lips.
“No pictures,” he said. “Why do you think I called off work for the rest of the night? I want you, just you, and I want lots of time.”
He kissed her as she moved her lips against his mouth. This was what a girl was meant for, what she was meant to be, to do.
“I don’t want to take any more pictures of you,” he said. “I want you for me and me alone. I want this to be love, something that I’ve never really had. I want you to live with me, to be there when I need you. And when my divorce is final I want to marry you.”
Cherry was shocked into silence. If she married Tom the world, as far as money was concerned, would be at her feet. They would live in a big house and she would have servants to do her work. A girl could hardly ask for more.
He kissed her again, moving her toward the bed, and she knew that he was going to do what she wanted him to do, what had to be done.
But later, she cried, her face against his chest.
“Don’t cry,” he said.
“I can’t help it.”
The afternoon had been better, so much better.
Chapter Ten
THE NEXT day she moved into the big house on Bowling Drive to live with Tom.
“You’re making a mistake,” Millie told her as she packed. “You’re making a mistake that you’ll never be able to right.”
Cherry said nothing. She knew that she was trading one mistake for another. But she had to get away from Millie, had to free herself from this strange love. Perhaps she was doing wrong but to continue living with Millie would be to do worse. Maybe she would fall in love with Tom. If not with him, then she might meet some other man she could care for. It was worth trying.
“I love you,” Tom had said. “I love you so much.”
And maybe, just maybe, she could love him.
He came for her shortly after five, and carried her things down to the Caddy parked at the curb.
“You know where I am,” Millie said as Cherry was leaving. “You know the phone number. I’ll come if you want me.”
“Ill try not to want you.”
“I know. Because I know why you’re leaving. And I also know you will fail.”
“We’ll see.”
“You’ll call me because you’ll need me.”
Cherry left the apartment and walked to the car. She said nothing as Tom drove down to the corner and turned right at the intersection. Millie really disturbed her. She had to forget Millie, had to wipe the memory of their love from her mind. She had been an easy victim but now she would change. Cherry would become strictly a man’s woman.
“You’ll like it on Bowling Drive,” Tom said.
“I drove through there only once.”
“The houses are big and so are the yards. And the people are nice. Some of them put on airs but they can afford them. The man who lives next to us owns one of the bra factories.”
“How will you explain my staying with you?”
“I’ll tell them you’re my sister.”
“Will they believe that?”
“Why shouldn’t they? No one on the street knows much about me — just that I own a photo shop and that I pay my bills. As a matter of fact, I pay my bills faster than some of the others. I know one guy who has a kid mow his lawn and hasn’t paid the boy for weeks. The kid also does mine and told me about it.”
They had left the business section and reached Bowling Drive. It was a long street, extending about half way across the upper part of the city. The yards were large and so were the homes.
Tom’s house was a modern split-level and painted white. She couldn’t see why it had cost so much money but then she didn’t know about these things. But she was pleased with the interior. Everything was modern and expensive. The carpets extended to the walls and they were thick, so thick that her high thin heels turned over as she walked across the room.
“Wonderful,” she said.
“You’ll like it. We have a woman who comes in and cleans and cooks. You won’t have anything to do.”
“Sounds dull.”
He put the bags down and took her in his arms and kissed her.
“All you have to do is keep on looking beautiful. That’s all I ask.”
She returned his kiss.
“Silly!”
“Just look beautiful and be here waiting for me.”
The upstairs was as nice as the downstairs and the bedroom into which he led her was big and comfortable. The bed was a double one, covered with a white spread.
“I’m in no hurry,” Tom said. “I’m taking the night off just to be with you.” He laughed. “In fact, I think I’m going to take a lot of nights off.”
“Won’t the girls get angry at you?”
“What if they do? They’ve made big money with me and they should know that it can’t go on forever. A lot of them, like Millie, will make as much, or more, from men they entertain in person.”
She thought of Millie and of her obvious hatred for men. How could she let them touch her? And yet Cherry had read that many prostitutes actually hated men. She decided that she didn’t really understand things at all.
It was cool in the bedroom — she noticed an air-conditioning unit in one of the windows — but it had been hot in her apartment and she needed a shower. She wanted to get out of everything she was wearing and put on something fresh.
“A shower would be fine,” she said.
He unbuttoned his shirt.
“We’ll take one together.”
She had never taken a shower with a man, had never even thought of such a thing, but they were going to live together and she guessed it was natural enough.
“I don’t care.”
He removed his shirt.
“My wife and I used to when we were first married. It was fun.”
The bathroom was down the hall and he carried her to it. Just before he took her inside he kissed her and she clung to him
. Yet when she kissed him she was thinking of Millie. Millie would be all alone in the apartment and she would drink herself blind. And there would be men, the men she picked up in bars. She would give them her flesh and secretly she would be laughing at them, hating them because they were male.
“You’re shaking,” Tom said.
“Well, this is new to me.”
“And you’ll love it.”
Once they were in the shower he turned on the water and soaped her. All over.
“Your turn,” he said.
She did a good job on him, too.
Outside the shower they dried each other. He kissed her and as he carried her back to the bedroom he kissed her again.
“Two guesses as to what I want,” he said.
“One guess is all I need.”
The bed was soft and they didn’t remove the spread. He came to her, his mouth savage with desire, and she felt the flame of need race through her body. She kissed him back ardently.
“Tom.” She moved her mouth away from his. “Tom, I want your baby. I want it so badly I could die just thinking about it.”
“People would count backward on their fingers.”
“I don’t care. Let them count. Let them go to hell. Who are they to tell us what to do?”
“I love you,” he said.
He kissed her. How he kissed her! She rose to him, almost screaming because of what he was doing, and she tried to lose herself in this moment, the one moment that should mean everything to a woman. But inside her there was a shell of emptiness, an emptiness which she knew, even as Tom took her, that he could never fill.
“I hope you’re not sorry,” he said afterward.
“I’m not sorry.”
She wasn’t. A baby would change her. A baby would bring something new into her life and all of the old desires would fade away.
“I can’t wait for the divorce,” Tom said, stretching out beside her. “As soon as she gets it I can marry you.”
“And that will be six weeks?”
“I think so. I don’t know. She said that was the waiting period but she might have lied. I’ll have to see a lawyer and check on it.”
She also stretched. So what if she didn’t love him all the way? After she married him she could join some clubs and occupy her mind with other things. She doubted that Rita and Oscar were really suited to each other but they got along. She could do the same.