by Orrie Hitt
“Would we live here?” she asked him.
He reached for a cigarette and lit it.
“Would you want to?”
“It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Then I think we should sell it and get something more reasonable. I bought it because of my wife, not for myself. She had to live where the big wheels lived but that isn’t necessary for me. I can make enough in the photo shop to support us in a more modest section. And when the Caddy wears out we’ll get a Ford. All of these things are window dressing and I never went for that very much.”
“What about the dirty movies? And the nudes?”
“I’ll get out of that racket.”
She was so pleased that she leaned over and kissed him.
“That was what I wanted to hear, honey.”
Some ashes from the cigarette dropped on his chest and he brushed them aside.
“I always disliked it,” he said. “But when I married big I had to live big. It was the only way I could do it. My father made a living for us at the photo shop but it wasn’t enough for me. I thought of trying a hundred things but none of them worked out. I didn’t go to college and that was against me. I was up to my ears in debt, when one day a girl came in and wanted me to photograph her. She wanted them to be nudes and after I talked to her she said that she sold them. That gave me the idea and I scouted around for other girls. I thought they would be hard to find but they weren’t. I prowled the downtown section and I got girls with shapes, girls who would take off their clothes for any man for almost any amount of money. That’s how it started. As soon as I got a few outlets I was asked about making movies. I started in the rear room of the shop and then I rented the barn. I made a lot of money, but now that I’ve met you the money isn’t the first consideration. We might never be rich but we’ll never be poor. I have a lot of it put away.”
She reached across him and got a cigarette. He struck a match for her and held it.
“Why didn’t you let me go when I wanted to get out of it?”
He thought this over for a few moments.
“I’m not certain. When you were working for me I thought I might be falling in love with you but I had to be sure. When you said you were going to quit I thought I might be losing you. I wanted to keep you. I was making up my mind, weighing every angle, and I wasn’t ready to have you walk out on me.”
“Yet you sold my pictures.”
“I told you I did but I didn’t. I have all of the negatives. I couldn’t put you on public display. They would have sold, sold like crazy, but I couldn’t stand the thought of thousands of men looking at you. So I paid you your salary and never told you. I didn’t know that it would work out for us like this but I hoped for it.”
“You’re sweet,” she said.
She kissed him, burying her lips against his mouth.
“Now it’s your turn to ask me what I want,” Cherry whispered. She crept in against him, feeling his strength, the great strength that reached out for her. “And if you can’t guess I won’t tell you.”
He put out the cigarette and took her in his arms.
This time it was better than before, much better. But still there was the challenge he couldn’t meet, the emptiness that she felt when he finally moved away from her.
“I love you,” he said.
“And I love you.”
But Cherry wondered if that were true.
Chapter Eleven
CHERRY TRIED to adjust to the life on Bowling Drive but it was difficult. Tom introduced her as his sister to many of the neighbors and she became friendly with some of them. She made every attempt to understand them and failed. On Orange Street the people had been direct, stating what they thought in simple, honest terms, but on Bowling Drive the people talked about big cars, country clubs and trips to Bermuda.
Mrs. Dobbs came in every day except Thursday to clean and cook. She was a pleasant woman, probably in her early fifties, and Cherry could talk to her. On the other hand, Mrs. Roberts who lived next door confused Cherry completely.
“I didn’t know Mr. Lester had a sister,” Mrs. Roberts said. “I knew his wife and she never mentioned him having one.”
“Well, I’ve been away for a long time.”
“Where?”
“Florida.”
“Florida? Just where in Florida?”
It was difficult to lie, to pretend.
“A little bit of all over.”
“That’s the way to travel. Don’t stay in one place all of the time. As for Florida, I love it. If it wasn’t that my husband’s bank was here we would be down there all year.”
Mrs. Roberts came to the house almost every day and talked endlessly. They were getting a new Caddy, the biggest and most expensive model made, she said. They were buying antique furniture and they were going to pick up a little cottage in the country. They had always wanted a place in the country but until now they hadn’t had the time.
“My clubs, you know,” Mrs. Roberts said. “I just love clubs. But Herbert wants to get away where he can have a place to relax. And he just loves fishing. Personally, I can’t stand the things. It makes my skin crawl just to think of them squirming.”
Cherry sought to avoid Mrs. Roberts but it was nearly impossible. If Mrs. Dobbs didn’t hear the chimes and if Cherry didn’t go to the door Mrs. Roberts just walked in. One day she came over wearing shorts and halter. She looked like hell in them. Her legs were too skinny and she didn’t have any breasts.
Cherry came to fear each meeting with Mrs. Roberts. Why didn’t the woman leave her alone? If she belonged to so many clubs she should have plenty to do.
“She’s always been like that,” Mrs. Dobbs said. “Running in and out. Mr. Tom’s wife hated her. One day when I was off Mr. Tom’s wife had a man in the living room with her. Mrs. Roberts walked in on them and I don’t have to tell you what they were doing. Before night everybody on the street knew. Not that I didn’t know about that slut before. I did. I don’t know how your brother put up with her as long as he did. It isn’t my policy to say anything bad about anybody but she was just no good. She was a tramp before she got out of college. I worked for one family up that way and the son used to keep her there over night when his parents were away. When she married I knew it wouldn’t last.”
There was a big flower garden in the rear of the house and Cherry spent a great deal of her time working out there. Mrs. Dobbs talked as much as Mrs. Roberts and Cherry got bored listening to the same things over and over again. Sometimes in the afternoon she went up to her bedroom and listened to the radio. She rumpled the bed in one room to make it look as if she had used it, but nights she slept with Tom in the big double bed.
“I love you,” he told her every night.
He was still making the movies.
“I’ve thought it over,” he explained. “I have the girls and I might as well clean up while I can. Give me another two months and we’ll never have to worry about money. Hell, I’ve got one master film that’s worth fifty thousand bucks itself.”
Millie had called Cherry once but she hadn’t taken the call. She didn’t hear from the girl again. But that didn’t stop Cherry from thinking about her. Nights when she lay beside Tom, even while he was giving her his love, she often thought of Millie. It was wrong and she knew it was wrong but she couldn’t prevent it. The love that Tom gave her wasn’t the same love that Millie had given her. She frequently told him that he had satisfied her beyond her wildest dreams but when she said that she was lying, trying to convince herself that her love for Tom was real.
The day she found out that she wasn’t pregnant she cried. She wanted a child, wanted one desperately; she wanted to prove to herself and to the world that she was a whole woman.
“Don’t cry,” he told her that night. “It’s just as well that we wait. If anything went wrong with the divorce, though I don’t see what could go wrong, you’d be in a real jam. You’d be having a baby and I wouldn’t be able to marry you. I don’t wa
nt that and I don’t think you do either.”
She slept alone for several nights after that and when she did resume sleeping with him he was careful. She argued with him about it, but he was firm and she wasn’t able to sway him.
Mrs. Roberts continued to bother her every day.
“Why do you work in the flower garden? You could hire a boy for that.”
“I like it.”
One day Mrs. Roberts invited her to one of her club meetings but Cherry begged off, saying that she had a headache.
“Too much sun in the garden,” Mrs. Roberts said. “You should wear one of those big hats and keep the sun away from your head.”
“Thanks for the suggestion.”
It was Thursday, the day Mrs. Dobbs was off, and Cherry started drinking as soon as Mrs. Roberts left. She hadn’t had anything to drink in several days and the first one tasted good. She drank it straight, with just a small amount of ice. Before she knew it she was into the next one.
She carried the bottle and a container of ice into the living room and sat on the sofa. None of this was working out the way she had planned. During the day she was lonely in the house and at night she failed to find the love that she sought.
She thought of phoning Rita and Oscar but there was time for that later on. She had called them the week before and they had been fine. They had wanted her to return home.
“I worry about you,” Rita had said. “We both worry about you. We don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I’m getting along fine.”
“Getting along fine and staying out of trouble are two different things.”
“I’m okay.”
“I hope so.”
But was she okay? Was anything all right? She had another drink and decided that everything was wrong. She didn’t belong on Bowling Drive and when she thought of marriage to Tom a cold fear gripped her heart. She supposed she loved him as much as she had ever loved any man, yet when she thought of spending the rest of her life with him she felt frightened. But why shouldn’t they be happy? They would have money and would raise a family. What more could she want? A woman’s place was by the side of a man and her purpose was to belong to him, to accept the seed of his love and rear his children. What was wrong? Why didn’t she find that enough to satisfy her?
Cherry continued to drink heavily. She thought of watching television but there would probably be a baseball game or a quiz show on and she didn’t like either.
God, she was lonely.
She emptied the bottle and opened a new one. She would get drunk, stinking, rotten drunk and the things that bothered her would disappear for a while.
She lay back on the sofa, drink in her hand, and closed her eyes. Nothing helped; she still could not stop thinking about her problems.
Tom had said he would be late that night, Cherry remembered. By the time he got home she would be sober. They would make love and she would force him to be careless. The need which drove her was greater than any fear of the risk she might run. If his divorce was delayed too long, then she would have the child out of wedlock. Someday he would be free and then they would marry. If they moved to a different section of the city no one would know about the baby. And they would move. They had decided on that. There was a new development to the north of the city and the houses were moderately priced. They would find new friends and lead a clean life. The houses had expansion attics and if she and Tom had more than one child they could build more rooms. Money would pose no problems at all. He was building a fortune with the movies now and if he didn’t want to work he wouldn’t have to. They would have beautiful furniture and a healthy deposit in the bank. They could travel if they felt like it and see different places and different things. And they would make love, wild love, the kind of love that a man and a woman were supposed to make. Even if they had a family they would still be able to do things that so many people couldn’t afford to do. Yes, it would be a good life and it would be enough for her. It had to be enough. From the strength of his arms and his love she would find the strength to live like a normal girl.
The heat of the afternoon filled the living room but rather than tinker with the air conditioner — she didn’t understand the thing — she unbuttoned her blouse and removed it.
Cherry resumed her drinking and stared at the telephone. Damn, she was lonely. She was so lonely she could cry. That was the trouble with living on Bowling Drive. You either had a neighbor as nosey as Mrs. Roberts or you had one, like the girl living on the other side, who was a haughty snob. The girl was married to an automobile dealer in his early fifties and all she seemed to do every day was take sun baths on the lawn. There was a fence around part of the lawn, a costly wooden fence, but Cherry could see from the upper story and the girl often took off her halter. Cherry had watched her several times and when the girl stood up Cherry had seen that her shape didn’t amount to much. How had the girl managed to marry money? Or was it love? People said that if there was love looks didn’t count. Love came from inside, from the heart, and above all it was tolerant.
The bottle of liquor was nearly empty and Cherry began to feel the effects of so much drinking. She tried to tell herself that she loved Tom, loved him desperately, but she knew that it wasn’t true. He had what she wanted and could give her security — that’s what she was buying. Anything else — love and the rest — would have to come later.
Cherry found herself looking at the phone again. The number of her old apartment on Gordon Road kept going through her mind. Millie would be there and possibly she would be lonely, too. There was no reason for both of them to be lonely. She could call Millie, invite her out and they would have a few drinks together. What harm could there be in that?
Her hands shook as she reached for the phone, shook so much that she could hardly dial.
Millie answered.
“Millie?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Cherry! Somehow I knew I would hear from you.”
“I’m alone and I thought you might like to stop out for a drink.”
There was no hesitation.
“Love to. Just give me time to catch a cab and I’ll be right with you. What’s the address?”
It was nearly half an hour before Millie arrived and by then Cherry had put the blouse back on. She didn’t know exactly why she did — it was rather warm in the house — but it seemed to be the thing to do. After Millie was gone she would strip and go to sleep on the davenport. She would be naked and waiting for Tom when he got home. Naked and waiting and yielding, her body on fire and all of her loveliness ready for him. Tonight might be the night when she would reach the summit, when he would arouse her as he had never aroused her before.
“Beautiful house,” Millie remarked.
She was wearing slacks and a thin white blouse. It wasn’t difficult to tell that she didn’t have a bra on under the blouse.
“You alone?” Millie asked.
“All alone.”
Cherry had brought in another glass from the kitchen and Millie poured herself a drink.
“This empty house must get on your nerves.”
“It does. That’s why I called you.”
“And I’m glad you did.” Millie sat down beside her. “That apartment isn’t the same without you. I go nuts looking at four walls and a bottle of booze.” She laughed. “I’m getting as bad as you are. I can’t leave liquor alone.”
“You’re still working for Tom?”
“Still. And are those movies rough! The things he wants me to do I’ve got to be drunk to stand. He had some sort of a limit before but he hasn’t got any now. I’ve been to parties where they showed movies of boys and girls but nothing like he’s making. If they ever catch up with him he’ll go away for a hundred years.”
Cherry gulped down her drink and quickly refilled the glass with more liquor and ice. She had heard about probes in other cities — they might reach as far as Tom. He hadn’t sold the pictures of her and she was in the clear,
but what about the other girls? In some places the authorities were looking for them. Prostitutes, they had said; prostitutes and call girls. This wasn’t always true. Some of the girls, like those in Northtown, were good girls who had gotten caught in the net and were helplessly trapped. Their needs were great and so was the lure of big money made fast.
“Are you still posing?” Millie asked.
“No.”
“So he’s keeping you for himself.”
Cherry was slightly annoyed.
“That isn’t quite fair. His wife is getting a divorce and we’re going to be married.”
“Married? That’s a hot one.”
“Well, we are.”
Millie helped herself to the bottle.
“That’s what he tells you. But you’re his woman for free — why should he tie up with you for life? Don’t tell me about it. I’ve seen this thing before. And I’ve had my own chances. A man promises you the world and you get a pile of mud in your yard.”
“It isn’t that way with Tom,” Cherry protested.
“You just think it isn’t. You might be true to him but is he true to you? There is one other girl who works in the movies with me and he drives her home every night we’re on the job. Do you think he does it for nothing? The hell he does. He does it because she’s got a bed and she doesn’t refuse him. She’s married but her husband works at night and doesn’t know the score.”
Cherry didn’t believe Millie. Tom was late some nights, sure — frequently very late. So what? Just the same, suddenly she was frightened.
“It’s a little warm in here,” Millie said.
“Yes, it is.”
“Could I take off my blouse?”
“Go ahead.”
“What about the door? Should I lock it?”
“There’s no need to. The only one who comes here is at a club meeting and the woman who works for us has today off.”
“I hate these things,” Millie said, struggling out of the blouse. “I don’t know why I wear them.”