by John Lutz
Sam was lurking like a persistent interloper in the far reaches of her mind, always with her. How long would that last?
The microwave timer chirped, and Allie removed the cups and dropped tea bags into them. Waited. Removed the soggy bags and added cream. She carried the two steaming cups into the living room.
MacNeil/Lehrer all-purpose theme music was on; the program was over. The air in the apartment was warm and sticky, but the storm made tea seem appropriate. A cozy and proper beverage, tea. Veddy, veddy English.
“You didn’t have to do this for me,” Hedra said, accepting her cup.
“I know,” Allie said, irritated by all this subservience. She’d just heated some water and dropped in a bag; she hadn’t donated a kidney. “So maybe next time you make the tea.”
Hedra smiled. “I’d like that. Sort of earn my keep.”
Hedra, Hedra, Hedra … Allie switched off the TV and settled back down on the sofa. “You’re paying half the rent and utilities, remember?”
“Oh, sure. But I can’t forget this was your place to begin with. I mean, I know how hard it is to get any apartment in this part of town. I appreciate your taking me on as a roommate.”
“So you’ve told me.”
“Yeah, I guess you get tired of me telling you.”
God, she was even apologizing for that. “It’s okay, Hedra. But be assured I believe you.”
Hedra sipped her tea and said, “Just right.” She set the cup on the upholstered arm of the chair, balancing it there with a light touch of her right hand. Allie felt guilty about losing her patience. Hedra was, in many ways, a more agreeable roommate than most. She was certainly preferable to a loudmouthed egotist who’d try to take over and run things. Or a lover who’d throw away your heart like a used Kleenex.
Allie said, “It’s nice having you around, Hedra. I mean that.”
“I … well, thanks, Allie.” She was actually pretty when she smiled, a kind of animated Mona Lisa. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, a guy was by here looking for you yesterday morning after you left. Said his name was Sam.”
Allie almost spilled her tea, which was too close to the rim. She hadn’t drunk any, waiting for it to cool. “Sam, you said?”
“Right. Something wrong?”
“Sam’s the man I was living with here. Before we decided to part. I decided, actually.”
“Oh. You were… ?”
“We were lovers.”
“I’m sorry about the breakup, Allie. Those kinda things happen.”
“All the time,” Allie agreed. But not to me. Not so suddenly. With a phone call in the night that knocked the entire world out of kilter. Damn it, she was straightening that world and Sam had no right coming around and trying to complicate things. He’d sent Billy Stothers to collect the rest of his belongings before Hedra had moved in; there was nothing of him left in the apartment, and Allie wanted nothing left of him in her life. That was the only way to stay off the roller coaster. He’d deceived her once and he would again, if she weakened and gave him the chance. He was booze and she was an alcoholic—one drink and she was lost.
“Did you tell him you lived here?” Allie asked.
“No. He didn’t ask, so I didn’t have to lie. And he didn’t seem to suspect. Probably figured I was just a friend waiting for you to get home.”
“I doubt it,” Allie said. “He knows me and my finances.”
The wind and rain took another whack at the window, rattling the glass, almost breaking through. Or maybe the noise seemed louder because the TV was turned off. Who the hell needed “Wall Street Week”? “Sam seems nice,” Hedra said.
“Seems.” Allie sipped at her tea. It was almost cool enough to drink without burning her tongue.
Hedra said, “He left a message. Told me to tell you he was sorry he missed you and he’d be back.”
Allie said, “I was afraid of that.”
Chapter 10
AS soon as she swung the door open, Allie was sure someone was in the apartment. The air hadn’t the usual stale stillness of a room unoccupied since morning. Something had stirred it not long ago. There was no discernible sound, yet the silence wasn’t complete.
She stood paralyzed on the threshold. Hedra was working all day at her temporary receptionist job. Sam. Maybe Sam had forced his way in. Her glance darted to the locks on the door. She found them intact and without scratches on the surrounding wood. But it was possible Sam had an extra key made before returning his. He’d deceived her in other ways, why not that?
Damn him! Damn him!
She took a stiff step inside and glanced around the living room. Everything was normal, the television and stereo—candy for burglars—were still in place.
Sam.
Had to be Sam.
Anger rose in her and supplanted fear. She moved farther into the apartment and quietly shut the door.
She slipped off her high heels and laid them gently aside, then padded in her nyloned feet across the floor toward the short hall to the bedrooms. She peered into Hedra’s room and found it unoccupied, the bed, unlike Allie’s, neatly made in almost military fashion. It was possible to bounce a quarter off the spread and watch it glance off the ceiling, Allie thought. Hedra the good soldier. She’d delight the most demanding drill instructor.
The faintest of sounds was emanating from Allie’s bedroom. Someone moving around, the soles of their shoes lightly scraping the floor. Odd. Almost as if they were dancing.
Allie edged forward, her heartbeat quickening. She reached out her right hand and touched the wall as if for balance. Should she be in here? she wondered. Should she be doing this? Of course, damn it! This was her apartment. She lived here, not Sam.
At the door she paused and drew a deep breath. Then she stepped boldly into the room. “Sam—”
Not Sam.
Hedra.
She was standing very erect in the middle of the room. Before the full-length mirror mounted on the closet door.
Hedra’s body twitched and her head snapped around. Her eyes and mouth grew round as she saw Allie. She said something like “Whaa—” More a rush of breath than an exclamation.
She was wearing Allie’s expensive blue dress from Altman’s, with the silver belt, silver shoes, and even Allie’s dangling silver earrings with the cubic zirconia stones. Transformation. Night-on-the-town time.
Allie stood rooted in surprise, not knowing what to say, and wondering what was happening. Hedra’s slim body hunched over violently, as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She wobbled back a few steps in Allie’s high heels, like a little girl playing dress-up, and groaned, “I thought you were going to lunch …” As if Allie had cheated by returning home.
Allie said, “The lunch was canceled. I thought you were working today.”
“Didn’t need me today.” Hedra’s lower lip quivered. Her face was flushed with embarrassment. If Allie handed her a shovel, she’d try to dig a hole in the floor so she could climb in and hide. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry about this …”
A hot rush of anger welled strong in Allie. Then it quickly waned. She’s about to cry, she thought, staring at Hedra. Oh, no! I don’t want to fucking see that! Or hear it! She’s about to collapse into a sobbing jag that might last for an hour.
Then pity forced aside the anger, and she crossed the room and placed her hand on Hedra’s quaking shoulder, on the smooth material of her own dress. She thought selfishly for a moment that she didn’t want tear stains on it. Hedra shrank away as if Allie were preparing to strike her.
Allie managed a cardboard smile. “S’okay, Hedra. Okay. We’re only talking about a dress here, not international espionage. No harm done.”
“My God, I mean, I was trying on your clothes. I don’t know why I did it, what possessed me. Honest.”
“I believe you.” She patted the shoulder, still vibrating beneath her touch. “Now you believe me. It’s all right; it really is.”
The flesh at the corners of Hedra’s lips arc
ed down and danced; tears still glistened and threatened in her injured-animal eyes. “It’s just that I envy you so. I mean, how you seem to make your own way so confident and all. You’re always sure of yourself and I’m always in doubt. It sounds crazy, but I thought, well, maybe if I put on the dress you look so great in …”
“That some of it would rub off?” Allie finished for her. “A kind of personality transfer?”
Even in her humiliation Hedra had to smile. “No, not exactly. But I guess, well, yeah, maybe something like that. I just wanted to try on the dress and see how I’d look, is all.”
“Then it’s simple as that,” Allie said. “No point getting uptight and Freudian about it.”
“I guess not,” Hedra agreed, after seeming to consider for a moment whether to let Freud in on this.
Allie moved away from her and sat down on the edge of the mattress. The bedsprings sang. Sam. “Don’t envy me, Hedra. My life’s not as good as it seems from the outside. I have doubts, problems. Just like you do. Big problems sometimes.”
“Only sometimes, though. And you solve them.”
“Not always.”
Hedra frowned, puzzled. “You mean Sam?”
“Yeah, him.”
“That’ll work out eventually.”
“I don’t want it to work out.”
“You want it to be over? Permanently?”
“It is over. And as permanently as I can make it.”
“You’re really sure?”
“Most of the time.”
“Well, the way you look, Allie, men’ll never cause you to suffer forever. I seem to have big problems all the time. And it shows and just makes things worse for me.”
“It doesn’t show as much as you think. You’re attractive and smart, Hedra; you need to believe in yourself more.” Christ, I sound like Dear Abby, she thought.
Hedra ran a hand over the silky front of the dress. “That’s easy enough to say.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. But you’re a kind of Pygmalion determined to make yourself over, and that’s all right. Shows there’s lots of hope and plenty to work with. You’ll be okay, Hedra, I can sense it.”
“Sense it? Actually?”
“Actually. And it’s not like me to be wrong, is it?”
Hedra giggled. “I suppose not. Oh!” She suddenly unbuckled the silver belt, then reached around and unzipped the dress. As if she’d abruptly remembered her transgression and wanted to set things right, like a child seeking parental forgiveness.
Allie sat and watched her strip to panties and bra. She really didn’t have a bad figure. Better than it appeared in the drab and poorly cut clothes she favored. “Leave on the earrings, Hedra. Maybe I’ve got another dress you’d like.”
She turned and stared at Allie with disbelief. “You don’t mean, after this…?”
“You didn’t steal or destroy anything,” Allie reminded her.
“I’d never purposely destroy anything of yours,” she said with all the fervor of a Girl Scout uttering a sacred oath.
Allie got up from the bed and walked to the closet. Wire hangers whined on the steel rod as she separated her clothes and found an inexpensive beige dress. It was styled very much like the blue one Hedra was now fitting with precision back on its hanger. Less full, longer hemline, but similar. “Try this one on,” Allie said, and withdrew the beige dress from the closet with the kind of flourish she’d seen salespeople use in exclusive boutiques.
Hedra was impressed. “You mean it?”
“Mean it,” Allie assured her.
Within a few minutes Hedra was wearing the beige dress, pivoting in front of the full-length mirror. Her movements were exaggerated yet controlled, almost like a dance.
She moved away from the mirror, smiling, and slipped into her brown shoes with the medium-height heels that had been lying near the bed. Took another look in the mirror, then spun neatly in a tight two-step so the skirt billowed. “What do you think, Allie?”
“I think it looks terrific on you.” The dress was flattering. “Better than on me.”
“No, that could never be.”
“You’re good for my ego, Hedra, even if you’re not very realistic.”
“I hope I’m good for something,” she said timidly.
My God! Allie thought. She said, “You need a drink. In fact, I need a drink.” Do I ever!
“Now?”
“Especially now.”
“Okay, Allie. Let me get this off.” She contorted her arms, elbows out, to grope behind her back for the zipper.
“No, leave the dress on. It’s yours.”
“But I can’t afford to pay for it.”
“I don’t want you to pay. It’s a gift.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I’m not kidding, damn it!” Too sharp again.
Hedra didn’t seem to know why Allie was suddenly irritated. She lowered her arms and said, “Thank you, Allie,” and almost curtsied.
Allie said, “I’m not royalty, Hedra.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Let’s go. The glass coach is waiting.”
No coach. Not even a cab. They walked through the gloomy gray afternoon to a restaurant and bar over on Broadway near West 76th. Before they entered, Allie noticed that the lighted time-and-temperature sign on the Apple Bank said it was one o’clock, but she wasn’t at all in need of lunch. The bedroom encounter with Hedra seemed to have killed her appetite. Intense emotion did that to her, be it anger or pity.
There was piped-in music in the bar, heavy-metal rock, but it wasn’t loud. The restaurant was through a low arch; Allie could see several people seated at red-clothed tables, eating lunch.
She and Hedra sat in the bar, at one of the small wooden tables against the wall. Allie looped her purse strap over the back of her chair, close to the wall where no one could snatch it, and looked around.
The place was darkly paneled, with a lot of high shelves lined with fancy beer mugs. Spicy cooking scents wafted in from the adjoining restaurant. Half a dozen people were perched on stools at the long bar. About a dozen more sat at tables. Allie’s gaze drifted back to the mugs. A few of them looked like antiques. She wondered if they were worth something to collectors. The bar owner might not know, might be ignorant of such things.
Not likely, she told herself, not in New York. Everybody but tourists seemed to know the price of everything in the city. Except for the slowly exacted price they were paying for living here.
A tired-looking barmaid plodded over to their table. She stood poised with her order pad, waiting, looking indirectly and dispassionately at them as if she didn’t know or care if they were genuine human beings or cardboard cutouts. She finally said, “Yeah?” then took their order.
Allie had two martinis. Hedra drank a Tab, then a martini. She seemed to enjoy the olive more than the drink. A matched pair of guys in gray business suits interrupted their loud conversation about the Jets long enough to size up the two women. One of the men had bad teeth and appeared drunk. Allie looked away before Hedra did. She saw in the mirror that the other man winked at Hedra.
Swiveling in her chair to face Allie, Hedra said, “No thanks.”
“They didn’t offer,” Allie said.
“They would if we gave them encouragement.”
“Most likely.”
Football talk began again. Louder. Then the subject was changed abruptly to the stock market. Probably to impress anyone who might overhear. Be a bear, said the guy with crooked teeth. The one who’d winked at Hedra was bullish on more than America.
Hedra glanced again in the men’s direction. “Couple of creeps.”
“Maybe not,” Allie said. “You never know.”
“Nobody knows for sure about anything,” the philosopher Hedra said.
That was the truth. When they got back to the Cody Arms, Sam had just come out and was jogging down the steps.
Chapter 11
SAM saw Allie and Hedra and to
ok the last few steps slowly, then came to a complete halt outside the Cody Arms and stood still, like a wind-up toy that had run down. He was wearing gray sweatpants, a blue pullover shirt, and his maroon Avia jogging shoes. He needed a haircut badly. Allie thought he might have lost a few pounds. Not in a healthy way, but as if he’d been sick. She stifled a thrust of concern for him, watching his eyes dart from her to Hedra and then back.
He said, “I was out for a run, and I thought it might as well be in this direction so I could see you.”
Allie said, “About what?”
He frowned. “Is that where we are? It has to be about something?”
“‘Fraid so, Sam.”
He stared at Hedra until silence began to build on itself and someone had to speak.
Finally Allie said, “This is Hedra Carlson. Hedra, Sam Rawson.”
Allie saw him give Hedra a quick up-and-down glance, show mild surprise as he recognized the beige dress. She’d worn it one weekend they’d spent in the Catskills; he’d removed it from her in a way she couldn’t forget. Sam shook Hedra’s hand gently. “You an old friend of Allie’s?”
Ill at ease, Hedra said, “Not so old. I mean, we haven’t been friends all that long. But we’re friends.”
Sam showed his amiable smile. “Wait a minute! We met the other day when I came by the apartment to see Allie. You were visiting. Waiting for her inside. Remember?”
“Sure. Now I do.”
He adjusted an elastic sweatband on his right wrist. It was blue and white, lettered Yankees. “I told you my name, but you forgot to introduce yourself.”
“I’m, uh, sorry.”
“Anyway,” he said, “I think it’s great Allie’s got a close friend like you. Wear each other’s clothes, that sorta thing. New York’s not the kinda place where you usually have somebody close.”
Allie’d heard enough. “Sam, we’re in kind of a hurry.”
“Oh?”
“I thought you were out jogging.”
“On my way to run in the park, actually. So I thought I’d drop by But you weren’t home. You are now.”