Lost in the Beehive_A Novel

by Michele Young-Stone

  “I’m not.” He straddled me, slipping one hand up my blouse. I didn’t resist. He unhooked my bra. I wasn’t aroused, but I was hopeful. Then his hands were under my skirt, and I heard Oscar on the ladder, his nails scratching the wood as he started climbing up to the loft. Then my skirt was up around my waist. Jacob was unbuttoning my blouse, breathing heavily. “Oh, I want you,” he said. He pushed my breasts together, putting one in his mouth. Then he looked up at me to see if I was watching. “Does it feel good?” I was excited by how he was looking at me and the way he was talking to me.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Good.”

  I forgot my parents. I forgot that I said I wouldn’t be out late. I forgot the bee in the web, the dog who was now at my feet. Everything. When he put his mouth between my legs, I grabbed onto his hair. He started laughing. Then, I grabbed onto the sheets. He stopped long enough to ask, “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” I told him. “It feels so good.”

  The next morning, he drove me home before he had to go to work. The sun was just up. We sat in his truck in my parents’ driveway. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

  “No. I got this.”

  When I turned the key, I looked back to see Jacob waving, backing out of the driveway. My parents were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. My mother said, “For all we knew, you were in a ditch.”

  “His truck broke down, and then there wasn’t a phone, and it was really late, and I didn’t want him to drive that late, and he had to work today.”

  “Since he’s a purist, I didn’t think a job would matter to him,” my father said.

  “Well, he has to make some money first to live as a purist.”

  “Oh boy, Gloria,” my father said. “I don’t think I like this fellow.”

  My mother said, “You never go anywhere, and then you stay out all night! With a man … It’s pretty disconcerting. We don’t know what to expect.”

  “I like him,” I said. “That’s all.”

  My parents looked at each other before my mother said, “Make sure you call next time.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  18

  THE NEXT SATURDAY, JACOB AND I took the train to the Jersey Shore. We’d spent every evening together since we’d met. It was a blustery, cold day. Jacob bought me a candy apple, and we walked along the boardwalk, his arm draped over my shoulder. I hadn’t been to the shore since that first week in New York when Sheff and I took the train to Coney Island. Every time we passed a tall blond man, I did a double take. That had been a strange, magical day. I remembered the girl in the mermaid tail and creepy Madame Zelda. She hadn’t seen Sheff’s fortune.

  On the boardwalk, Jacob said, “Do you want to spend the night? I could get a room.”

  I hesitated, but only for a minute. “Why not? Let’s do it.” While Jacob went into Tanya’s Market for cigarettes, I called my mother from a pay phone. “We’re having fun,” I said, “so we’ve decided to spend the night.”

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I like him.”

  “I thought you liked girls.”

  “Maybe I like both.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Why don’t you come home?”

  The operator said, “Please deposit ten cents.”

  “You told me to call. I’m calling.”

  “I don’t know how many times we can say we’re sorry about Belmont!”

  “This has nothing to do with that.” Before the operator disconnected our call, I hung up. Here I was with a man, a man I liked, and she was asking me about girls. I waited for Jacob outside Tanya’s. I was putting the past behind me, and she had to bring up Belmont!

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “It went.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s ride the Ferris wheel and then we’ll get cotton candy.”

  “Perfect.”

  Jacob got our tickets. As we waited in line, I pulled the cotton candy off the paper cone, letting it melt in my mouth. I wanted to start over again with everything, my life, all of it. I would never tell Jacob about my past, about Isabel, Belmont, or Sheff. If I was truly going to reinvent myself, I’d have to do more than burn paper and vinyl. I’d have to burn the old Gloria too.

  On the Ferris wheel, he sat with his leg pressed to mine. We went up and down, over and under, accordion music coming from the speakers. From high up, the beach looked white, the ocean green, the bathers inconsequential. Jacob inhaled my blonde curls and whispered, “I love you, Gloria Ricci.” I felt my body shrink in the metal swing. We rocked back and forth. I took a deep breath. “I love you too.” No shrinking, Gloria. No shirking! You can do this. You can be this woman. I didn’t love him. Of course not, but I was participating, joining the land of the living.

  He kissed my neck.

  I smiled.

  When the Ferris wheel stopped to let riders off, we were at the top, our feet dangling, the crowd shrunken and spotlighted. Jacob took my face in his hands and kissed me. “You make me so happy.” Slide your hand up the back of my neck again. Just do it. And we’ll stay like this forever. He didn’t, but I imagined his hand there.

  At the bottom, the ride operator swung our door open. “Hope you two lovebirds had fun.”

  “We did. Thanks.” I remembered Turtle Pond. Jacob took my hand, and we started walking toward Mary and Harry’s, a one-story motel on Ocean Avenue across the street from the boardwalk. Jacob wrote our names down as Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Blount. I was a little disappointed. It would’ve been more exciting to put our real names. More scandalous. More seedy. The man behind the desk handed Jacob the key, and we parked in front of room six. Our window faced the parking lot. Jacob closed the curtains, and the passing headlights cast the room in a red light. Everything smelled of mildew. The carpeting was stained and dotted with cigarette burns.

  When I climbed into bed, I expected things to be like they’d been, but Jacob said, “I want to make love to you, Gloria. I know you’re a virgin, but it’s okay because we love each other.”

  Isabel had put her fingers inside me, but I guessed that I was technically still a virgin. I inched my underwear off, and Jacob spread my legs apart. “It’ll hurt less if your legs are spread wide.” There was no foreplay. He climbed on top of me and forced himself inside me. “So tight,” he said, bearing down. My insides burned. He burrowed his face in my neck as he pushed himself in deeper. Then, he got into a rhythm, his eyes closed, and I tried to relax, to not think, but I did think: I’m doing this. I can do this. This isn’t horrible. He was moaning. He was covered in sweat, his jaw clenched. As soon as I thought, When will this be over? it was over.

  Jacob collapsed beside me. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay.” I pulled the sheet up to cover myself.

  “It gets better the more you do it. You’ll get to where you really like it.” I doubted that I would ever really like it, but I was going to try. He fell asleep, and I went to the bathroom and showered.

  We did it again in the morning. This time, he looked at me. “You just need to relax. Your thighs are like a vise.”

  “I’m trying.”

  When it was over, he said, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “Same here.” I went to the bathroom to clean up. When I came out, I said, “I promised my mom that I’d call her this morning. I’m going to find a phone.” I slipped on my shoes.

  He said, “I love you,” before rolling over. Once outside, I walked purposefully toward the ocean. The east wind blew my hair straight back. I’d made a decision. I was going to be with Jacob. Life isn’t perfect. It’s never perfect, and it’s not possible to live how I’d choose to live, to find a beautiful girl and settle down. It won’t happen. It’ll never happen. Look what happened to you, darling Sheff. God, I miss you. I crossed the boardwalk. A flurry of handbills whipped in the wind. They blew across my feet, one of them sticking to my calf. I grabbed it,
glancing down. One Night Only, Madame Zelda, World-Famous Fortune-Teller. The salty wind struck my face. The waves beat the shore. I folded the handbill and slipped it in my front pocket. Jacob was my fortune.

  When I got back to the room, I was out of breath. Jacob said, “Oh no. Was your mother awful?”

  “No. Not awful.” I took off my clothes and climbed in bed beside him. “I just need to sleep a while longer.”

  19

  CORA BROKE HER ARM THE same week I met Jacob. She couldn’t have been happier about falling down a flight of stairs. At the hospital, she met the doctor and potential husband of her dreams. “Let’s double-date,” she suggested. We were eating lunch in the break room.

  “Why not? I’ll ask Jacob.”

  That night, I was staying over at Jacob’s. We’d just finished making love when I brought it up.

  “Nah. I don’t do those.”

  “What do you mean, ‘I don’t do those’?”

  “Double dates.”

  “Why not?”

  “Too many people. I’m an introvert.”

  “I think it’ll be fun. Cora says that he’s a really nice guy.”

  “I don’t like doctors.”

  “I think he’s actually a resident, not a full doctor yet. Come on. He won’t be examining you or anything.”

  “If it’ll make you happy … I’ll go.”

  Cora and I made arrangements. We planned to see Dirty Harry at the drive-in. I packed blankets, and Jacob packed a cooler. My mother said, “Where are you going?”

  “To the drive-in.”

  “You really like this guy?”

  “I’ve been telling you.”

  She closed my bedroom door and came and sat beside me. “Your dad and I want you to be happy. That’s all we’ve ever wanted.”

  “That’s what I’m doing. I’m being happy.” I thought, I’m being like everybody else. I’m making life easier.

  She hugged me. I rarely noticed her scar from the car accident, but that afternoon, I felt the damaged skin against my cheek. I said, “I love you.”

  She kissed my forehead. “We love you.”

  “Gotta go. Dirty Harry is waiting on us.” I went out to the front porch to wait for Jacob. When he pulled up, I ran to his truck, tossing my blankets in the back. I was excited. As soon as I opened the door, he said, “I hope this guy isn’t a dick.”

  “Cora likes him.”

  “Because he’s a doctor. I’m just saying, Gloria, that guys who go to medical school tend to think they’re smarter than everybody else.”

  “Just give the guy a chance.” I slipped off my shoes and put my bare feet on the dashboard.

  When we pulled up to Cora’s house, Cora and Richard were sitting on the front stoop. Jacob and I got out of the truck. Cora said, “We get to ride in the back.” She introduced Richard to Jacob. Richard said, “And you’re the amazing tie girl. Cora told me that you know everything there is to know about men’s neckwear, including its history.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Likewise.”

  Jacob said, “Jesus. She sells ties,” and got in the truck.

  In the cab, I said, “He seems nice.”

  “Because he’s sucking up to you. That’s how they are.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “The doctors and the lawyers.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  When we got to the drive-in, Richard insisted on paying. Instead of saying “Thank you,” Jacob said, “Fine.”

  We managed to get a good spot. Cora and I arranged the blankets in the truck bed. Jacob passed out beers from the cooler. Richard tried hard to make small talk with Jacob, but he was being an antisocial jackass. I never should’ve said yes to the double date. If nothing else, I’d learned that if Jacob didn’t want to do something, I should just roll with his decision. When Jacob went to the bathroom, I told Cora, “I’m really sorry that he’s being such a jerk.”

  She whispered, “This is why I want the doctor. He has a good bedside manner.”

  During the movie, Richard and Cora whispered jokes about Dirty Harry while Jacob sat with his feet dangling from the bed, occasionally shushing Richard. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

  When I said, “What’s going on with you?” he said, “Nothing. I’m fine. What’s going on with you?” I gave up.

  After we dropped Cora and Richard at her house, Jacob started talking. “That guy was the pits. Cora’s an idiot if she keeps dating him.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “What did he do?”

  “Well, for starters, he went on and on about you and your ties. It was patronizing. Then, he had to pay for the drive-in. Of course he did. He was an arrogant dick.”

  “I thought he was nice.” I was eager to get home.

  “Do you want to spend the night?”

  “Not tonight.”

  When he pulled into the driveway, he said, “I know that you’re your own person, and I know that you take pride in your work, and that’s one of the many things I love about you, but I’m your boyfriend. You might want to consider that. You should be defending me, not some doctor you just met, who, by the way, only wants one thing from Cora. He’s never going to marry her.”

  “I wasn’t defending anybody.”

  “Fine.”

  I slid down from the truck. Then he said, “You hurt my feelings tonight.”

  “I just wanted to have some fun … I’m sorry.” I pushed the door closed and went inside. My mother was awake reading one of her textbooks. “How did it go?”

  “It was fine. I’m tired.”

  “Do you want to talk about it? How was the movie?”

  “Just tired.”

  The next morning, Jacob telephoned at seven. Before I could say anything, he said, “I’m sorry about last night. I just felt like you were taking Dr. Dickhead’s side.”

  “There weren’t sides.”

  “But there were. He’s going to be some rich doctor, and I work with my hands. I’m a paver and a bricklayer. We’re different people, and he thought he was better than me. Anyway, that’s on me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I’m always going to be here for you,” he said. “I love you, and I don’t want to lose you because of Cora’s doctor. I’m sorry for how I acted.”

  “You’re not going to lose me.”

  “He was just so arrogant.”

  The next day, I saw Cora at Bink’s. She came over to the tie counter. “Jacob is a bad man.”

  “He’s not a bad man.”

  “You shouldn’t defend him.”

  We never spoke again.

  A week later, Gwen invited us to dinner. At first, I was understandably hesitant, but Jacob said, “I’m dying to meet her. She’s important to you, right?”

  “She is.”

  Jacob drove over, and we walked hand in hand from my house to hers. Jacob said, “She’s the one who took you to see Peter Pan in the city, right?”

  “Right, that’s her.”

  Gwen opened the door. She wore a pink rhinestone clip in her hair and a pink apron. I heard Marlene Dietrich’s sultry voice. “Come in. Come in. You’re right on time.”

  Jacob said, “Blue Angel is one of my favorite films.” I hadn’t introduced them, and already Gwen was telling him that her father had met Marlene Dietrich in France during the war. She took Jacob by the arm and led him to her sitting room, where Eugene had his head in a book. She clapped her hands, then nudged Eugene’s shoulder.

  “Honey, the kids are here.”

  Eugene closed his book and looked up. “Where?”

  “There’s Gloria there, and there’s her beau. This is Jacob.”

  Jacob and Eugene shook hands.

  “Do you want to make the martinis, or I can do it?” Gwen asked.

  Eugene grimaced. “Come on, woman. I’m still handy for a few things.” He went
to the liquor cabinet.

  Gwen said, “Gloria’s been keeping you from me.”

  “It stops now,” Jacob said.

  Eugene passed out the drinks and sat back in his chair. Gwen asked Jacob about his future plans, and he said, “I want to make a life with Gloria.”

  I sipped from my martini, then smiled.

  “Those are smart plans,” Gwen said. I nodded, but after what had happened at the drive-in, I didn’t know if I could build a future with Jacob. I didn’t think his thinking was in line with mine.

  After he’d drunk half of his martini, Eugene asked Gwen to dance. Jacob followed suit. “May I have this dance?”

  “Of course.”

  The way that he slipped his hand up the back of my neck was familiar and never failed to seduce me. I felt his breath in my ear. He said, “I’m crazy about you.” The four of us danced in the cramped space. Later, Eugene and Jacob talked about building permits. Eugene said, “It’s a racket. I want to build onto my house. It’s my house and my land. Why do I need a permit from the county? It drives me bonkers.”

  Gwen said, “You’re already bonkers.”

  We sat down to a dinner of roast pheasant and creamy rice. For dessert, Gwen served a chocolate torte. Jacob complimented her cooking. His table manners were impeccable.

  When we were getting ready to leave, Gwen put her arm around me and said, “I like him very much.”

  A week later, Jacob proposed.

  I said yes. I’m living.

  20

  THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING, my father came to my bedroom door. His light eyes were sad. There were wrinkles I hadn’t noticed. It frightened me to see him look so old. “You can always come home. You always have a home here. I just want you to know that.”

  “I know. Thank you.”

  My mother came in next. “You don’t have to do this. It’s not too late.” She sat on the bed, and I pulled the Bishop book from my nightstand, turning to the fish poem. She took it from my hands, scooting back on the bed. I rested my head in her lap, and she began reading. By the time she got to the end where “everything was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow! And I let the fish go,” I was asleep.

  Jacob and I got married on Saturday, June 19. We’d known each other for all of ten weeks. Our ceremony was small. My parents and the Babineauxs were in attendance. The chapel’s corridor was lined with matted portraits of priests and bishops, some of whom I recognized.