by Rona Jaffe
Libra had already decided that. One day at the office he showed Gerry a script. “The Marilyn Monroe Story,” he said. “I’m going to get it for Bonnie.”
“Wow!” Gerry breathed. “What a break for her. Can you do it?”
“Are you asking me if I can do it?”
“No, I mean you can do it if anyone can.”
“They’d probably think it’s sacrilegious if they ever find out,” Libra said. “But my theory is that Monroe’s unique appeal was that she really wasn’t sexy at all. Women loved her as much as men did, you remember. They were never jealous. And men really didn’t want to sleep with her, they just wanted to adore her. By being un-sexy she became super-sex. We’re still a nation of prudes. She parodied sex and she knew she was parodying it. That was her genius. Any actress who got the part would be more sacrilegious than Bonnie because they would be second-rate Monroe. Bonnie would be first-rate Bonnie. I think she’s the only one who can do the part.”
“Are you going to send her to acting class?”
“I’m not sure,” Libra said. “I want to send her to Simon Budapest, but I don’t know how well she can handle being around that bunch of animals all the time. I think I’m going to get Simon Budapest to take her privately and coach her. She’ll learn faster and we’ll have more control over her.”
Who was “we”? Libra and Simon Budapest or Libra and Gerry? Gerry realized he meant himself and her. She felt herself blushing with surprise and pleasure. Libra had given her her first real responsibility for a client! She was no longer just Big Nurse. She felt now that Bonnie was almost a member of her immediate family. She wondered if under the veneer of scorn Libra showed for his clients he really felt the same affection for them that she did for Bonnie, even though for some he would necessarily have it to a lesser degree. But didn’t he have to care? He spent his whole life on his clients’ lives, saving none for himself. His marriage was ridiculous, he had no one to care about except the procession of girls he showered off and dumped into bed, and he certainly didn’t care about them. He was a strange man. She wondered if she would ever understand him.
She told Bonnie about the script that night. Bonnie was like a little kid, jumping around, saying over and over: “Are you sure? Do you think I’ll get it? Do you think I’ll be a star?”
Then she told Bonnie about the acting lessons.
“Will you come with me?”
“You don’t need me.”
“Yes I do.”
“He’ll be your acting coach. I’ll just make you both self-conscious.”
“Not any more self-conscious than some strange old fossil will make me. Say you’ll come, just the first time at least.”
“Okay, I’ll come the first time.”
“Dick called.”
Gerry looked at her, surprised. “Here? When?”
“About half an hour ago.”
“Well why didn’t he call me at the office, the dumb thing. He knows I never get home that early.”
Bonnie shrugged.
“What did he say?”
“He’s nice,” Bonnie said. “He’s coming over.”
Dick had heard all about Bonnie from Gerry, of course, but he had never met her. He had once even said that he would never want to meet Bonnie, that he was frightened of freaks. He knew that Bonnie was Vincent because Gerry had told him—she told him everything and she trusted him implicitly. She wondered now why he had decided that he was no longer frightened of “freaks,” as he had called her, and she wondered if she was jealous. No need to be jealous—Bonnie was a boy. Dick was probably just curious in a friendly way because Bonnie was living with Gerry and he wanted to know who his girl was living with. Still, it annoyed her that he had called at the apartment when he knew he would find Bonnie there and not Gerry. It was an odd thing for him to do. With any other man she would just have thought it was an unthinking thing, but she knew Dick well enough to know that he never did an unthinking thing. She spent more time than usual putting on her make-up and put on an extra pair of false lashes for confidence. Bonnie was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen, even though she was a boy, and she’d seen too many men insist that Bonnie was a girl even though they were Bonnie’s lovers and obviously had been playing with something in that bed. Well, maybe Dick was thinking that there might be a part in his Broadway show for Bonnie and wanted to get a look at her.
“Did he say we’re going out, or what?” she called through the open bathroom door to Bonnie.
“He didn’t say.”
Gerry came out of the bathroom. “How do I look?”
“Ooh, she’s got on her bats! Look at her, wearing those bats! Who are you trying to seduce?”
“You, Vincent. I’ve decided to make a man of you.” Gerry chased Bonnie around the bedroom until she caught her. Bonnie squealed until caught, then she fought back and began tickling Gerry unmercifully. She had the strength of a man. “Let go!”
“Don’t you kiss me, you sick freak!” Bonnie giggled.
“Let me go, you truck driver!”
“Truck driver! Truck driver! Look who’s calling who a truck driver.”
Gerry sensed the rough play changing. Bonnie had never really felt or held a girl before, and now her tickling and teasing was turning into curious touching disguised as mischief. She had her hands on Gerry’s breasts and was trying to get her fingers under Gerry’s skirt. Was she just trying to see what a girl had that she didn’t have, or was she really more of a boy than either of them had thought? Gerry pulled away and ran into the living room.
“I’m not a toy,” Gerry said. “If you want to know what a girl looks like I’ll draw you a picture.”
“Don’t. You’ll make me sick.”
“Do you know anything about girls?”
“How could I?” Bonnie said. She went into the bathroom and began painting her face. “I might as well paint for your friend,” she said. “I don’t want to scare him to death.”
Gerry wondered what Dick would think of Bonnie, while she made a pitcher of martinis which she put into the refrigerator—he drank the awful things winter and summer. She put a stack of records on the turntable and went to the air conditioner to turn it up higher. The air conditioner sputtered and clattered at her like an angry car and stopped dead. It was broken. One of the hottest nights of the summer and the air conditioner had to break. She opened the windows and the hot air felt like a wall. Well, Dick wouldn’t linger long over pleasantries now, he’d just meet Bonnie, have a drink, and the two of them could go. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. She had been working too hard, that was all, and summer in New York was a nightmare even when you kept moving from one air-conditioned place to another all day.
She made a large penciled note for Bonnie to call the air conditioner repairman in the morning and made herself a vodka and tonic.
“Do you want a drink, Bonnie?”
“No thanks. Oh, well, all right if you’re having one.”
She made another vodka and tonic and took it to Bonnie in the bathroom. Bonnie hadn’t locked the door against her in a long time.
“Are you going out?” she asked Bonnie, who was pasting on her bats.
“I don’t know. Why is it so hot in here?”
“The thing broke.”
“Oh God. Then I will go out.”
“Are you going to be here tomorrow so the man can come to fix it?”
“Okay. I don’t have a booking until three o’clock.”
“I left the number in the kitchen so you can call him.”
“Okay.”
There was a long silence, Bonnie concentrating on her eyelashes, putting them on, taking them off, putting them on again until she was satisfied. She knocked the drink off the sink by mistake and the glass broke. Gerry went to the kitchen for a dustpan and broom.
“Do you think he’ll like me?” Bonnie asked.
“Who?”
“Dick Devoid.”
“Not if you call him Dick Devoid.
”
“Do you think he’ll think I’m a freak?”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because I am a freak.”
“You are not. Who said you were a freak?”
“Well I am,” Bonnie said. “You know it.”
“He’ll love you. Everybody does.”
“I’ll sweep that up.”
“It’s okay.”
“If he’s going to laugh at me, I don’t want to meet him,” Bonnie said.
“You’re not getting another drink till you get out of the bathroom. You only knock them over.”
“He’s not going to laugh at me, is he?”
“No.” Gerry took the broken glass to the kitchen and threw it away. “I wouldn’t walk around in there barefoot, if I were you, until the maid comes Wednesday.”
“You think I should wear a dress?”
“Why not?”
“Well, he knows.”
“Wear whatever you’re comfortable in. You can wear your neuter bell-bottoms.”
“I think I will. Then he can’t laugh.”
How funny Bonnie was—she didn’t think it was odd to wear two pairs of false eyelashes and a lot of panstick on her face, but she thought it was odd to wear a dress. Her rules were as confusing to the straight world as the straight world’s were to her. No wonder she sometimes made serious mistakes. Gerry hoped Dick would like Bonnie, and that Bonnie would feel at ease with him. Perhaps, since it was so hot and the air conditioner was broken, Dick would think to ask Bonnie to come along to dinner with them. It was silly to be jealous. There was a whole world of girls Dick Devere hadn’t had yet—he certainly wasn’t jaded enough and God knows not naïve enough to want to try a boy.
When Dick arrived, Bonnie was still lurking in the bathroom. He kissed Gerry hello and looked around.
“What happened to your air conditioning?”
“It just broke.”
“It’s terrible in here.” He wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a silk turtleneck sweater and tight jeans. “Where’s your friend?”
“Getting ready to meet you. Be nice to her.”
“I wouldn’t dream of not being nice to the gentleman.”
Gentleman! It sounded like he was talking about somebody else. Gerry laughed. “I never heard her called a gentleman before.”
“What do you call her then?”
“Well, I called her a lady once, and Bonnie said: ‘I’m not a lady, I’m a woman. Unless they’ve lowered the standards.’”
Dick laughed. “I know I’ll like her.”
Gerry gave him a martini and made herself another drink. It was becoming unbearably hot. “Bonnie, hurry up.”
Bonnie glided out of the bathroom, silent and shy as a cat. She was holding her face in that immobile position she always kept for a few minutes after she’d put her make-up on, so that she would not put laugh lines in the paint. It made her look as if she’d had a shot of novocaine in the jaw.
“Bonnie Parker, Dick Devere.”
Dick stood up and shook hands with Bonnie as if she were another man. “Hello,” she murmured.
“What’s the matter with your face?” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you’re talking through your teeth.”
“Oh.” Bonnie looked so frightened Gerry thought she might bolt out the front door.
“Do you want a drink, Bonnie?” Gerry asked. She glared at Dick.
“All right.”
She put a vodka and tonic into Bonnie’s hand and watched over her until she’d had a few swallows.
“You certainly are pretty,” Dick said.
“Thank you.”
“I was prepared to beat you up, but now would you please hold my hand?”
Bonnie laughed, forgetting about her laugh lines. Gerry breathed a sigh of relief. The Devere charm was working again and she knew everything would be all right.
“Mr. Libra has Bonnie up for The Marilyn Monroe Story,” Gerry said. “And she’s going to start acting lessons.”
“You should be in films,” Dick said. “You’re wasted on modeling. You’re even better live.”
“Oh, I don’t think I have a chance,” Bonnie said.
“I’m not saying in that particular film. But in something. It’s better that you don’t get your hopes up too much about The Marilyn Monroe Story because it will be very difficult for you as a newcomer to get that. They’ll probably take a girl who’s done a hundred television shows but whose face is unfamiliar. Big studios seldom take a gamble on an unknown to star in such an expensive picture. But if you don’t get it, don’t take it personally. It has nothing to do with your talent or your looks. Just keep plugging and you’ll be a star someday, I can tell that. You’re going to be a big, big star.”
“Wow,” Bonnie breathed, and giggled.
“It’s very good for you to start acting lessons now, not wait until you’re already acting in films and making mistakes. Sam Leo Libra is a very shrewd man. Who are you studying with?”
“Simon Budapest.”
“Oh. Well, don’t take him too seriously. He’s a pompous old jerk in love with himself.”
“Dick!” Gerry said.
“I just don’t like him,” Dick said. “But it doesn’t matter—studying with him is better than not studying at all.”
“Do you think he’s no good?” Bonnie asked, worried.
“No … no, he’ll be all right. Don’t worry about it. Just don’t let him get an emotional hold on you.”
“Nobody gets a hold on Bonnie,” Gerry said.
“You know it, Mary,” Bonnie said. She was sitting there giving Dick her old eye trick: staring at him, letting him drown in those huge violet eyes. She’d often told Gerry that once she turned her eyes on a man he was through. Gerry was amused to see her doing it to Dick, but at the same time she wished Bonnie would stop.
“Let’s get out of this steam bath,” Dick said. “Bonnie, can you join us for dinner?”
Bonnie glanced at Gerry, who nodded. “Yes,” Bonnie said.
Because Bonnie was wearing pants they went to an informal little restaurant which Gerry knew was the chic In-place for the jet set during the summer despite its unpretentious appearance. When Dick walked into the room with the two girls everyone turned around to stare, especially at Bonnie. Gerry had grown used to this—Bonnie caused a stir wherever she went. For one thing, she was spectacular, for another, she was very tall so you couldn’t miss her.
At a table in the corner Gerry noticed Peter and Penny Potter with a group of friends. When Penny Potter saw them her eyes widened and she looked down quickly. Dick pretended not to see them.
Bonnie was overjoyed because the restaurant had spaghetti. She could eat spaghetti three times a day, no matter how chic the restaurant was, and it never made her fat. Gerry and Dick settled for something cold, and he ordered wine. He did most of the talking, to both of them, while Bonnie sat there and stared at him with her eye power.
“You understand, don’t you, what I was trying to say about the film?” he went on. “I didn’t mean it in any way as a personal put-down. I just want you to be prepared for the rejections in this business, because they come every five minutes. And they don’t mean a thing.”
“Oh, I don’t care if I’m not a star,” Bonnie said. “I just want to get married and have a baby. Be a mother or a father or whatever. Either one, take your pick.”
“I can only see you as a mother,” he said seriously.
Little Penny Potter was coming toward them, on her way to the ladies’ room. She stopped at the table. It was the first time she had deigned to acknowledge Gerry’s existence and Gerry knew she was stopping only because Dick was there. She had her hair done up in a Mr. Nelson Summer Horror, masses of Dynel curls with daisies twined among them. She was wearing a Franco creation, a white see-through mini-dress with comic strip cartoons cut out, laminated to some sort of plastic, and sewn on strategic places.
“
Hello, Dick.”
“Hello, Penny. Do you know Gerry Thompson, and Bonnie Parker?”
They all said hello. Penny’s eyes had not left Dick. “How have you been?”
“Fine, thanks. And you?”
“All right. We’ve missed you at our parties. It’s been too long.”
“I’ve been very busy,” Dick said.
“I see.” She looked at Gerry and Bonnie, evidently trying to decide which one was keeping him so busy.
Dick glanced over at Penny’s husband at the corner table. “Say hello to Peter for me.”
“I will. He misses you too. Call us.” She was nervously fingering something on her shoulder, and when she took her hand away Gerry saw that it was a gold and diamond teddy bear pin, much like the nightingale Dick had given to Silky.
So that’s it! she thought, surprised she hadn’t figured it out before. Penny Potter was an old affair of his, and she evidently hadn’t gotten over it yet or she wouldn’t be wearing Dick’s famous kiss-off pin in front of her husband. I hope to God he never gives me any jewelry, Gerry thought.
“That’s a beautiful pin,” Bonnie said.
“Thank you.” Penny looked at Dick for an instant and then looked away. “Nice to have met you.” And she was gone.
Maybe the pin was just a coincidence, Gerry thought. Her husband could have bought it for her, or she could have picked it out herself. Dick Devoid wasn’t the only person who bought jewelry for his loved ones at David Webb. But her woman’s intuition told her the pin was from Dick—that and the way Penny had looked at him. She knew there were a lot of things about Dick she was aware of but preferred not to think about, and his track record was one of them.