by Ann Bannon
Laura came in the room to find Beth on the phone. She looked up from her conversation and smiled at Laura and after a moment she hung up. She spun around in her chair and said, “Well, is he as good as he looks?"
"Oh,” Laura blushed. “He's awfully nice."
"Going to see him again?"
"Yes. For the night of the Varieties."
"Well!” Beth smiled at her. “He must be impressed.” Laura didn't answer. “Finally remembered where I met that guy,” she went on.
An awful suspense grabbed at Laura's stomach. “Who?” she said.
Beth frowned a little. “Your friend. Ayers. Charlie."
"Oh. Have you met him?"
Beth studied her and Laura could feel her amusement without understanding it. “Um-hmm,” Beth said. “Real handsome kid, isn't he?"
"Yes,” Laura said briefly. She didn't like the way Beth and Charlie remembered each other at all.
"Well, I think I've got it now—I must have met him at a party somewhere."
A fraternity party?” She was chagrined by her own jealousy.
"I guess so.” Beth smiled. “Charlie been telling tales?"
"Of course not!"
Beth began to laugh softly. “Laura, you must be interested."
Laura's face turned red. “In what?"
"In Charlie, of course. What else?” Laura couldn't look at her smile. “I don't blame you,” Beth went on, needling her subtly. “He's nice, as I remember. I thought it was a damn waste to give a brain to a guy with a face like that."
Laura wouldn't answer her. She wouldn't even look at her. Beth enjoyed the boycott.
"He's too handsome for me,” she said. Laura rummaged defiantly in her closet, her back to Beth. “I like ‘em ugly,” Beth said.
"Oh, you're just joking,” Laura said pettishly to a wall of wool skirts.
"No, I'm not. I like ugly faces. I like interesting faces better than pretty faces ... You have an interesting face."
Laura turned around then and met Beth's provocative eyes for an instant and then looked at the floor. “I do?” she said.
The door opened noisily and Emily burst in, laughing. “Hi, roomies!” she said.
"Jesus, Emmy!” Beth got up with a grin and walked over to her. “Let me see your face.” It was lipsticked from ear to ear and down her neck to the collar of her blouse. Beth laughed at her. “Laura, our roommate is bombed,” she said.
Emily studied herself in the mirror. “And it's indelible,” she wailed.
"Is she drunk?” Laura whispered to Beth.
"Sure,” said Beth. “She's stoned.” She took Emmy's chin in her hand and surveyed her face. Emmy submitted docilely to the examination, with her eyes shut. “Open your eyes, Em, I'm not going to kiss you,” said Beth. “Bud went home, remember?"
And Emily got the giggles again. She took a piece of Kleenex and began to rub at the lipstick, which resisted her efforts and sat firm on her face. After a minute she gave up and stared at herself in dismay. Beth pulled open a dresser drawer and handed her a jar of cold cream.
"Not that you deserve it,” she said. Emmy clung to her and laughed. “Come on,” Beth said in a businesslike voice. She smeared cream over Emmy's face, rubbing it in carefully. “Every time she goes out with Bud, this is what happens,” Beth told Laura. “She says it's good for his morale."
"Oh, Beth, I do not!” Emily said. “I said it was good for his music."
"God, I'll say it is. When you finish with him, Em, he can play in the key of Q."
Laura didn't like to see girls drunk. She sat on the studio couch and said hesitantly, “Well, it must be sort of exotic to date a musician."
"Exotic-exschmotic,” said Emily. “He comes with the same basic equipment as any other man.” Beth laughed, but Laura saw nothing to laugh at. “Only he's the deluxe model,” Emmy added. She pulled her clothes off vigorously.
"Here, here!” exclaimed Beth. “You have to wear that again. God, Emmy, you act like you wear ‘em once and throw ‘em away!” And she rescued Emily's skirt and blouse from the floor. She pulled a towel from the rack on the closet door and draped it over Emily's shoulders, stuck her toothbrush in her hand, and propelled her firmly toward the door.
"Shape up or ship out, gal,” she said. “You're just too damn sexy.'
Emily pulled herself up regally in her underwear and said, “I'm beautiful, I'm beloved, and I have a secret."
"Well, hot damn!” said Beth, and she laughed.
Emily minced into the hall and turned back to announce, “And you're all jealous.” And she left to wash up.
"How ‘bout that!” said Beth in mock awe.
Laura looked uneasily around the room. She thought Emily had acted disgracefully and it embarrassed her to even think of it. Beth was silent for a moment and then stared at Laura thoughtfully. “Laur, honey,” she said, “you free tomorrow night?” When Laura said yes, Beth gave her a friendly smack on the rear. “Be my date,” she said. “For the movies."
From then on, they went to the movies regularly and Laura saw the old Garbo films, French imports and Swedish nature films, only to be with Beth. She often turned down parties to be able to go, a practice Beth would have stopped had she known of it. But Laura kept it carefully from her. She liked everything about the movie trips too well: sitting next to Beth in the dark theater, hearing her breathe and shift and laugh or whisper to her. The first time they'd gone to the movies together, Beth had reached over and helped her out of her coat. When Laura tried to do the same for her, Beth stopped her. “I've got it, thanks,” she said. And after that they followed the same ritual, without ever referring to it.
Then the night came when Cyrano de Bergerac was playing at the local theater. Laura and Beth had hardly been seated before Laura, saturated with the sentiment, found the tears starting down her cheeks. She could never keep them back from an affecting story. Beth saw the quiet little tears and smiled at them. It was then she reached into Laura's lap and found her hand and took it in her own and pressed it. The shock stopped the tears as the warmth of Beth's hand began to spread all through Laura, strange, sweet and inebriating. It was ten minutes before Laura dared to look at Beth. She was gazing serenely at the screen.
They never mentioned it but after that their hands always found each other in the dark of the theater.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS SATURDAY, the day of the Varieties Show, the day Laura was to see Charlie for the second time. It was also the day that Beth's Uncle John chose to pay his niece a visit. He had made a habit every year of getting down to see Beth for at least one weekend. He liked the Varieties and he liked the football game and he liked to have dinner at the sorority house with Beth. The girls made a fuss over him, and he would sit beaming at the head table, flattering the house mother and flirting with her charges.
Laura was anxious to meet him, to see if he looked and acted anything like Beth. Emily told her he was a very impressive individual; he had been a colonel in the last war and he had a false leg.
Uncle John arrived just before dinnertime and Laura watched with mixed emotions as he folded Beth in a hug. He was a big man with a red, jovial face and he shook Laura's hand heartily and said, “Well, well, you're Beth's new roommate! How d'you do?"
"Fine, thank you,” she murmured, overcome with shyness, but Uncle John didn't notice. He was following Beth into the living room and greeting the girls he remembered from the year before.
Laura turned to Emily and said accusingly, “He doesn't look anything like Beth!” as if it were Emily s fault.
"Oh, heavens no,” said Emily. “He's not her blood relation. His wife is. She and Beth's mother were sisters."
"Oh,” said Laura, and had trouble concealing the disappointment she felt. “Does she look like Beth?
"Nope. Beth looks like her father. He died a long time ago. She has a picture of him around somewhere. It's funny. You'd think she actually knew him if you ever heard her talk about him. She was two, I think, when
he died."
After dinner they went into the living room and sat on the floor in the circle of girls talking to Beth's uncle. He was enthroned on the couch with a pretty girl on either side of him, talking merrily in all directions at once. Beth sat in a chair across from him, watching him with a little smile. Every now and then he said, “Isn't that so, Elizabeth?” and she would nod in agreement.
Uncle John was a large man in many ways, fat, generous and well-heeled. He hadn't any idea of what sort of a girl his niece was underneath her pleasant exterior. All her life she had been a bright little girl and pretty, so he simply ignored her spells of melancholy and her love of books. He gave her plenty of spending money, kept her in nice clothes and nice schools, and saw her at dinner and on weekends. He didn't interfere with her private life and feelings; they simply didn't matter to him that much. She was charmingly grateful for his care so he was fond of her and had arranged for her to have an independent income on her twenty-first birthday.
Laura cringed when he began to tease Beth. “We're going to have to lock up her books until she gets herself a man,” he said, and roared amiably at his niece.
Beth grinned at him. “He's scared to death I'll wind up an old maid,” she told Laura, “and he'll never get me oft his hands."
"Now, now, honey, you know that's not true,” he chuckled.
Laura sat there almost hating Uncle John and his calm assumption that Beth wanted to get married. Couldn't he see how fine and pure she was? Her face a blank and her thoughts miles away, Laura didn't hear her buzz and it wasn't until one of the girls nudged her and whispered something that she remembered she was supposed to meet Charlie that evening.
He looked even more attractive than she remembered and he said, “Well, Miss Landon, you look very pretty this evening."
Laura tried to feel a spark of feminine interest in him, but she couldn't. She liked him, that was all. He took her arm and led her out to the car. In it was a young man sitting alone. Charlie pointed to him and said, This is my roommate, Mitch Grogan, Laura. We have an apartment—"
"So called—” said Mitch.
"—over on Daniel. Couple of blocks from campus."
"Compensations of old age,” said Mitch. “You don't have to live in university-approved housing. As a matter of fact, I don't suppose we could get anybody to approve of our housing, Charlie."
"What's the matter with it?” said Laura.
The two boys laughed. “Everything,” said Charlie. “You name it, if it's bad we got it—bad pipes, bad wiring, bad landlady, bad everything. But we can give a hell of a beer party in the front room."
"And we keep our own hours,” Mitch added.
"How old do you have to be to get an apartment?” said Laura conversationally. They were driving toward the auditorium where the Varieties Show was scheduled to get underway.
"Real old,” said Charlie. “God, twenty-two, at least. Would you believe it, Laura, Mitch is damn near twenty-five."
"Really?” said Laura, turning to look at Mitch in the front seat beside her.
Charlie laughed at her seriousness. “He's going to die a bachelor,” he told her confidentially. “I just let him tag along with me for kicks. Otherwise he forgets what women look like."
Laura looked at Mitch again and he didn't seem in the least disturbed over Charlie's prediction.
"See?” said Charlie with a grin. “God, they could put him right in the middle of a harem and he'd ignore every damn female until he got his homework done.'
Trouble finding a parking space stopped all conversation until they were inside the auditorium. From then on, Laura made no effort to try to listen to Charlie and Mitch over the wild shouts of laughter. She searched the huge audience for Beth and Uncle John, but couldn't see them. When the Varieties were over Laura tried to scan every face she could see of the huge crowd streaming out of the auditorium, but Beth was nowhere in sight. Depressed and silent, Laura walked with Charlie and Mitch to Maxie's.
Maxie's was already jammed when they got there and the Dixie Six was in action, as usual.
"My God, when did Bud Nielsen start playing with them?” said Charlie.
"Where?” said Mitch. “Oh, yeah!"
Laura looked up, and there was Bud with his long gold horn glinting through the smoke, standing in the fore of the little bandstand that stood in the rear of the room.
"Do you know him?” she asked Charlie.
"Yeah, I know him. Fraternity brother. Good musician."
"My roommate dates him,” said Laura.
"Beth dates this character?” Charlie looked at her in surprise.
Oh, no! My other roommate—Emily."
"Oh,” he chuckled. “I didn't think Cullison would go for this guy,” and he nodded at Bud.
Cullison, Laura thought in irritation. Her name is Beth. Elizabeth.
"God, it's crowded. Do you see a place?” Charlie said, squinting through the smoky pink gloom.
Laura became suddenly aware of someone saying her name and she turned around a couple of times, straining through the half-light at the myriad faces.
"Laura!” It was Beth. Laura saw her laughing and struggling through the crowd and her first wild impulse was to blindfold Charlie. But it was too late for that. She looked up at him and he was staring at Beth with a smile on his face. Laura was too upset to see that Mitch was smiling too.
Beth was worth staring at. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were very bright, as if she had a romantic fever of some sort. Actually, she simply had too much beer in her, and it was making her laugh. The boys in the crowd were squeezing and pushing her and Laura was suddenly furious to see that she was enjoying it.
Beth reached a hand toward Laura and Charlie took it quickly and pulled her past the last few people that separated them. He pulled hard and she fell against him, laughing and off balance. He caught her around the waist to steady her and when she was quite steady he held her still as if he were afraid she might lose her balance again, or as if he hoped she would.
Mitch and Laura watched this artful maneuver together, Mitch with a mild twinge of envy and Laura with raging jealousy. She almost swore at Charlie in her anger. Furious tears gathered in her eyes and her whole body was rigid with emotion. She hated Charlie for holding Beth, she hated Beth for letting herself be held, she hated the two of them just for being near each other. She was afraid to see them together; they had spoken too well of each other.
"My God, I thought I'd never make contact,” Beth was saying. “We're over there.” She gestured vaguely behind her, still leaning on Charlie. “Emmy talked us into it. Uncle John is getting a lecture on jazz. Bud's playing. Did you see him?"
"We saw him,” said Charlie.
Beth looked up into his face for the first time. “Hi,” she said. “You must be Charlie.” She leaned closer and studied him. “Yes, you are. I'd remember that face anywhere. I'm Beth Cullison."
"Yes, I know.” He laughed, holding her a little tighter.
Laura could hardly contain herself. “And this is Mitch Grogan,” she said in a sharp, impatient voice.
"Hi, Mitch.” Beth leaned away from Charlie to take his hand. Then she said, “Come on back and sit with us. We've got loads of room.” She looked up at Charlie again.
"Sure,” he said, releasing her slowly. “Think you can make it?” He grinned.
Beth took a few steps away from him and then turned back and said with an air of injured dignity, “Certainly."
Mitch and Charlie laughed at her, and then Charlie took Laura's arm—he failed to notice how stiff and unwilling it was—and followed Beth back to the booth. Beth introduced the boys. Emily smiled beautifully at them.
"Well, now,” boomed Uncle John over the racket, “you children can sit together over here and I'll sit next to Emmy. She's a trombone widow tonight.” And he laughed at himself, getting up and moving over to Emily's side.
Beth slid into the seat he had left and Laura nearly followed her in an effort to keep Charlie
away.
"Whoa, my dear,” said Uncle John, catching her sleeve. “Let the gentleman in the middle.” She was furiously embarrassed.
Charlie sat between Beth and Laura, and Mitch settled next to Uncle John where he could gaze undisturbed across the table at Beth. He wasn't the only interested party. Laura kept an anxious eye on her, and every time Charlie leaned over Beth to smile or say something Laura crawled with irritation. The loud music prevented her from hearing what they said to one another.
As for Beth, sitting next to Charlie and crowded tight against the wall, she was surprised by the size of him. His eyes were dark and his grin was wonderful and she began to feel inside her an almost forgotten excitement. It was too strong to fight and too sweet to ignore. She didn't do anything about it; she just let it happen, and when after a while she felt his hand on her knee she let it stay there and smiled imperturbably across the booth at Uncle John.
But she was not as calm as she looked. The pressure of the warm firm hand on her leg exhilarated her and confused her at the same time. It had always taken Beth a while to react to a man; there were some she had never reacted to at all, in spite of the fact that she had allowed them to touch more than a knee. But from the moment Charlie's arm had circled her waist she had felt an almost electric delight in him, in his touch and his presence. She almost resented it; she had tried so hard to give her affection to men she thought were worthy of it. But Charlie had done absolutely nothing to deserve it except touch her once or twice and talk to her a little. And that light touch, that low voice combined to thrill her strangely and bother her until she began to wonder if there was something wrong with her ... or for the first time, something right.
Charlie's hand tightened on her leg and moved up a little while he talked to her. And then it moved up a little more, as if he were asking questions with it that had nothing to do with the words he spoke. Beth sat quietly letting him do as he pleased, too bewildered, too secretly pleased to stop him. She found that his touch made her shy; and the farther his hand traveled the harder it was for her to meet his eyes. But when she did she saw a promise in them.