“But . . . ?”
“It felt all wrong. As I said earlier, I know how you were raised. I’ve met your father. And it got so I couldn’t sleep at night. Now I wish I had said something sooner.” The razor edge in his voice was like a balm on her heart. He was angry—yes, but not at her. No matter how foolish she had been, Ted hadn’t abandoned her as a friend.
“What do I do?” She wished her thoughts weren’t so blurred.
“I know you don’t want to go back to your apartment, but you’re in no shape to be out and about. You’re upset, you’ve had a long day, and you’ve been drinking.”
“Then take me to Charity’s—oh, wait, she’s probably out.”
“What about your roommate?”
“She’s out tonight, too. And I’m not sure I want to talk to her right now, because she’ll just say ‘I told you so.’ She’s never liked Dick from day one . . .”
You deserve better . . . The memory of Lavinia saying those words ripped the air from Genie’s lungs. All her friend’s veiled warnings took on new meaning. “She knew.”
“What was that?” Ted asked sharply, but her brain was working too feverishly to respond.
“Lavinia knew he was married. She’s known all along. That’s why she never liked him. That’s why she was so upset when . . .” She swallowed and glanced up to find Ted watching her intently. She looked away as renewed shame burned her throat. Please don’t let him be able to see into my thoughts. She would die if he ever found out how far she had gone with Dick.
“Genie,” he said evenly, but something dark lurked in his tone. “Did you just say your roommate knew?”
“Maybe . . .”
Kitty’s voice joined Lavinia’s in Genie’s memory. If you sleep with vipers . . . I wasn’t talking about you, Nia, dear.
Genie shivered despite the heat radiating off the pavement. No, she had been talking about Dick. And if Kitty had known he was married, likely so had Lavinia. Her chest constricted under the double betrayal. “She did.”
Ted exhaled and ran his fingers through his short hair. “When do you think your friend Charity will be home again?”
“Late. She had a date with one of your buddies. Some flight lieutenant with dreamy eyes.” She hated the bitterness leaking into her voice.
“Okay, so I can’t take you to your friend’s place just yet, and you won’t go back to your apartment, which is fine, considering I have a low opinion of your roommate at the moment. I can’t take you back to base with me. And if we show up at Flo’s with you looking the way you do, she’s likely to shoot me.”
She touched her tear-slicked cheeks, suddenly self-conscious of her ruined makeup and sweat-soaked clothes. “I must look awful.”
“Like you’ve been put through a wringer,” he agreed grimly.
“Wonderful.” She briefly closed her eyes, wishing she could turn back time. “You would think in a town as big as LA there would be somewhere quiet I could go, somewhere away from everyone.”
“I’d offer to stay with you, if you wanted. But I don’t think that would be such a good idea under the circumstances.”
“Because you don’t want me to get attached?” She tried to make it sound like a joke, except her emotions were too raw.
A muscle leaped in his jaw as he pulled her gently against his chest. “Genie, I’m sorry. I’ve obviously hurt you.”
“Saved me, you mean.” Her voice broke, and it took everything she had not to cling to him. He felt so sturdy beneath her cheek, his heartbeat reassuringly steady and strong.
“I wish . . .” He made a frustrated sound as his arms tightened around her. “Lord, what a mess. No matter what I do, I’m only going to make things worse.”
“It’s all right. We’re still friends, yes?” She struggled not to burst into tears again.
He hesitated, and that brief pause was like a knife in her heart. “Yes. Always.”
Cursing herself as being the worst kind of fool, she refused to look at him as she pushed back and out of his arms. She glanced up at the shadowed buildings and drew a deep, shuddering breath. All the blinds were pulled down tight to prevent light from leaking out. Shuttered like her heart, except she was trying to keep pain in. Lord, she felt so alone. “I think I’d best go home.”
The drive to her apartment was blessedly short. She couldn’t think of anything she could say that wouldn’t sound desperate or weak. He seemed to be wrestling with his own thoughts, so the silence lay between them as deep and undisturbed as a winter snow. When he pulled up at the curb, she bounced out of the truck, her satchel over her shoulder and her key already in her hand.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Genie.” He leaned across the seat, the low urgency of his voice stopping her. She paused, her heart squeezing in spite of herself. “Take care of yourself.”
She forced a smile. “I will.”
The truck stayed idling at the curb while she fiddled with the front lock. Once she was inside and the door shut safely behind her, she heard the engine rev and then fade away. She released the breath she hadn’t even known she was holding and glanced up the stairwell. No matter what Ted had said, she wasn’t staying here any longer than she had to. The familiar scents of dusty carpet and half-faded dinners mocked her. How had she ever thought of this as home?
She hitched the satchel higher on her shoulder and started up the stairs. It wouldn’t take her long to pack, and if she couldn’t get to Charity’s tonight, she would leave first thing in the morning. She had no doubt that once she told Charity the situation, her friend would squeeze her into their apartment. It would be for only a short while, anyway. Just until she could find a new place.
And possibly a new roommate. Depending on the outcome of the conversation that needed to happen, she could very well be out a friend. She could forgive evasiveness and mood swings. She could even forgive the strange obsession with Kitty. But if her hunch was true, and Lavinia had known Dick’s marital status, then their friendship was over.
Her battered heart winced at the possibility, but she shoved any regrets aside as she unlocked the door. She was a woman on a mission.
She opened the door, and a flurry of sounds greeted her. The rustling of fabric punctuated by soft profanities had her reaching for the light switch, her pulse racing.
“Lavinia?” She flicked the toggle up, and light flooded out of the kitchen and into the living area.
Lavinia and Sheila were stretched out on the couch, the shock and horror reflected in their faces matching Genie’s own reaction. Both girls were half-naked, their shirts missing.
Genie tried to breathe and failed. She tried again. Sheila, her breasts entirely bare, shifted to crouch protectively over Lavinia, who was lying beneath her. Genie was finally able to tear her eyes away, and she stared blindly at the opposite wall. Oh my Lord. What she’d seen couldn’t be true. Couldn’t be actually happening. Her chest squeezed even tighter, her ears buzzing slightly.
“Genie, it’s not what you think.” Lavinia’s voice held a desperate note as more rustling came from the couch, the sound of clothing being put back on.
“Oh, really? And what am I supposed to think when I come home to . . . this?” Genie switched her gaze to the ceiling, not wanting to see any more of the two than she already had. What she had seen was quite enough. “I want her gone. Now.”
“We were just messing around. We weren’t—aren’t . . . It didn’t mean anything.” Lavinia’s voice had become pleading.
Genie hazarded a glance at her roommate. “You do know that what you are doing is illegal, Lavinia. Illegal as well as immoral. What if someone had been with me when I walked in? What were you even thinking?”
“I . . .” Lavinia pulled her blouse together more tightly, her blue eyes haunted in her pale face. Her thin body began to tremble. “You won’t tell anyone?”
Genie turned on Sheila, who was busy tucking her blouse into her work pants. “I thought I told you to get out. And don’t you ev
en think of setting foot in this apartment again.”
The woman’s expression hardened. “You can’t ban me. It’s Nia’s apartment, too.”
Hearing that nickname again hit Genie like a punch to the gut, temporarily robbing her of air. She whirled to Lavinia. “Nia? Is that the name your lovers call you by? Like Kitty?” The burgeoning realization that this wasn’t her roommate’s first brush with illicit passion left her reeling.
Lavinia licked her lips nervously. Her gaze flicked to Sheila. “It’s all right. Genie and I need to talk. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Sheila’s steely blue gaze locked on Genie. “Nia asked you a question. Are you going to call the police?”
Anger rushed back into the emotional void, and she threw her satchel onto the table. “Just get out. I’ve got bigger problems to deal with.”
“Go,” Lavinia said softly in the taut silence that followed.
Genie tried not to react to the slight catch she’d heard in her roommate’s voice. She was hurt enough for both of them. No matter what was said now, there was no returning to the way things were.
While Sheila grabbed her things, Lavinia studiously buttoned her blouse, refusing to meet Genie’s eyes. She flinched as the front door slammed shut and then bit her lip.
For the second time tonight, Genie found herself at an utter loss for words. Which of tonight’s shocks should she address first?
Lavinia drew a shaky breath and looked up. “You look awful. What happened? Did you fail the test?”
“I passed just fine,” Genie said tightly, all her pain over Lavinia’s betrayal resurfacing. “‘What happened’ is I found out Dick is married.”
Her roommate stilled. “Who told you that?”
“Who told me doesn’t matter, because we both know it’s true. Right?” Genie searched her friend’s face—which seemed more like a stranger’s after what she had just witnessed—for any sign of surprise or shock. Please, please say you didn’t know . . .
Lavinia shivered and began rubbing her arms. “I’m so sorry, Genie. I did warn you to be careful.”
Genie’s heart shattered for a third time that night, and the pain nearly drove her to her knees. “That’s not quite the same as saying, ‘Hey, Genie. That fellow who’s helping us, who keeps asking you out? Yeah, he’s married.’”
“Genie, I . . . I’m sorry. He promised he wouldn’t make a pitch with you.”
“And you believed him?” Genie practically yelled.
“I didn’t have a choice. I did what I could to protect you.” Her friend looked on the verge of tears, but Genie was too hurt and angry to care.
“Except tell me the truth,” she pointed out hotly, “like any true friend.”
Li Ming would have told her. Genie was sure of that. And Ted had told her, even though he hadn’t wanted to.
Lavinia’s lips compressed into a distressed line.
Genie closed her eyes, wishing she were somewhere, anywhere, else at this moment. “You said you had no choice. Was Dick blackmailing you?”
A choked laugh escaped Lavinia’s lips. “After walking in on this”—she gestured toward the disheveled couch—“what do you think?”
Genie felt ill. “That if Dick knew, there were others before Sheila.”
Lavinia opened her mouth and then closed it as she glanced away, the internal battle taking place clear in her face. She sank onto the couch. “Yes.”
“Kitty?” The woman’s name was bitter on her tongue.
“Does it matter?” Lavinia said, sounding resigned. “If I give you a list, will it make any difference or only compound my sin? If I tried to explain how I’ve fought this curse my whole life, how I was only ten when I kissed Anna Christina, and how that one act earned my father’s eternal hatred, what then? Should I be damned for Liesl, who I fell in love with despite near-constant prayers for divine guidance? What about when I was married off to John with the hope that marriage would fix me, only to fall in love again, this time with a fellow missionary in Thailand?”
“Lavinia—” Genie held out her hands, wanting her friend to stop. This was much more than she wanted to know.
“You might as well know the extent of my depravity if you’re going to condemn me,” her roommate said bitterly. “And don’t worry; the Lord punished me for my sins by taking her away, along with John and the others, in the attack, though how could I have expected anything else? I knew what I was doing was wrong, and yet I didn’t stop.”
“Why not?” Genie asked, genuinely perplexed. It seemed like it should be so simple . . .
“I don’t know!” Lavinia sprang to her feet and went to the window. Pulling back the blackout curtain, she stared out into the night. “I swore I would be good after the attack. I would never love where I shouldn’t again. I promised myself I would be as the Lord intended. I tried so very hard to resist—” She stopped abruptly and bit her lip. Her hands closed into fists.
“Kitty.” Genie had never despised the vapid socialite as much as she did in that moment. It was clear Lavinia had been hurting and vulnerable after Thailand, and weak—a weakness that Kitty had exploited without thought to the consequences.
“I hated myself afterward. What kind of vile, broken, ungrateful person would throw away the Lord’s love like that? And yet I couldn’t stay away.”
A chill ran up Genie’s spine. “Nathan found out, didn’t he?”
“He was already suspicious. Marcus had warned him and had given him John’s letter. We were arguing because you were right: he was planning on taking me to see my father. He was going to deliver that letter, and I couldn’t let him. It would have meant my death.”
“Did you kill him?” Genie could barely get the words out, her horror having numbed her lips.
“No!” Lavinia’s eyes widened. “I swear it. He was the road to my salvation. I would never . . .”
“No.” Genie shook her head as her thoughts whirled in hopeless confusion, the rock of her father’s teachings the only guidance she had left after the disasters of the night. “That’s not right. The road to salvation is through Christ.”
“Who has abandoned me!” Eyes wild, Lavinia thumped her chest. “Do you think I want to be this way? Do you think I haven’t prayed every day of my life to have this curse lifted?”
“Christ abandons no sinner who is sincere in his repentance.” Genie rubbed her aching temples, no longer sure if she was talking to herself or her friend, her guilt blurring with her friend’s. “If anyone was abandoned, it was you who left him by carrying on with Sheila. And worse, you’ve tried to drag me down to your level by not telling me about Dick.”
Lavinia’s nostrils flared, and a flush appeared high on her cheeks. “Drag you . . . Oh, let she who is without sin cast the first stone. Who was succumbing to the pleasures of the flesh that night I rescued you? And who kept you from becoming a fallen woman?”
Stung, Genie lashed out. “At least I wasn’t indulging in unnatural pleasures.”
Lavinia reeled back as if slapped.
Remorse flooded Genie. Horrified by what she had said, she reached out as Lavinia swayed, her fingers digging into her short black hair. “Lavinia—”
“No.” Lavinia jerked back, tears sliding down her cheeks. She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Don’t say a word. You’re justified in your repugnance. Give me a moment, and I’ll leave.”
Genie shook her head. “No. I’m the one who has to leave.”
Lavinia glanced up, her blue eyes clouded with confusion. “But I’m the one at fault.”
“Perhaps, but I can’t stay here in Dick’s apartment, not after all that’s happened. It would be an insult to my father’s lifework.”
“You’re leaving me?” The panic in Lavinia’s voice tore at Genie’s conscience, but she would not, could not, back down on this.
“You don’t need me, Lavinia. You have your friends, this apartment, your job. You’ll be fine.”
“But we’re still friends, yes?”
Anger and pain flared within Genie, pushing her to be brutally honest. “I’m not sure we ever were. Not after you willingly chose to keep your lover over my well-being. That’s not how friends behave. Not true friends.”
Too upset to continue the conversation, Genie whirled toward the bedroom, her heart sick. Never would she have believed that Lavinia and Dick—two of her dearest friends—would betray her like this. Yet both had, neither one caring how badly she would be hurt by their lies. They had thought only of themselves, and that’s what hurt the most. Her trust in them had been absolute, and they had played her for an utter fool.
The apartment was eerily silent as she packed. With the passing minutes, her anger slowly faded into a deep sorrow and then a kind of numbness, as if her heart were too exhausted to feel any more. She had just lost her best friend and her boyfriend in one fell swoop, the two anchors of her life turning out to be nothing like she had imagined them to be. It was like a bad dream from which she couldn’t wake.
Finally, with nothing left to do but call a cab to take her to Charity’s, she lugged her suitcase into the living room.
“Lavinia, I’m . . .”
The room was empty, as was the kitchenette, the closet, and the hallway. Lavinia must have sneaked out while she was packing. Genie returned to the living room, where Lavinia’s clothes were still piled on the couch. Likely she was out trying to find Sheila.
Quashing an unexpected pang of hurt, she picked up the telephone receiver to call a cab. Who Lavinia chose to spend her time with was no longer her concern. From now on, only the future mattered. Her future.
Cab ordered, she picked up her suitcase and headed out. She resisted the urge to look back as she closed the door.
Chapter 38
Genie flipped through the Thursday morning Los Angeles Times, past the front-page photo of Clark Gable taking the oath before leaving for basic training, past the news of the raging marine battle in Tulagi and the increased domestic unrest in India, past the depressing news of Japanese reinforcements pouring into China, until she found the classified ads.
A Girl Divided Page 36