"What did she want?" Carolyn asked.
Her mother lifted her shoulders and held out her hands. "Just to talk. You two had trouble?"
Carolyn shook her head. "Not really," she said. "Just… a misunderstanding."
"Maybe it's not so good, Carolyn, that you should be friends with this Angie?" Mrs. Weber said tentatively. "A girl like that, so young and so far from her parents. Girls like that get into trouble."
Carolyn sighed. "Did she say I should call back?"
"I forgot to ask her. So give it a try."
"Mom, you can't lie worth a darn," she said.
Mrs. Weber chuckled, then worriedly watched her daughter go to the phone and dial.
The phone rang and rang. Carolyn knew it was useless. She went back into the kitchen and slumped down in a chair beside the table.
Mrs. Weber stood at the stove, rotating a big spoon in a pot of chicken soup. She tasted, poured in a palmful of salt and stirred some more.
Carolyn had the feeling there was something Mom hadn't told her. She wanted to seem casual, to wait until the woman got around to whatever it was. But she was too nervous, too worried about Angie.
Finally she blurted, "Well, what did she say?" Her mother knocked the spoon against the rim of the pot, then laid it in the sink. Thoughtfully, she wiped her fingertips on the skirt of her apron. "Well, she said she was visiting her cousin in Queens and she’ll be home very late." She avoided meeting her daughter's eyes. "Maybe not till tomorrow."
"Oh," Carolyn said. She was not at all surprised, but she felt nauseous nevertheless.
Mrs. Weber looked at her daughter cautiously. "She's got a cousin in Queens, Carolyn?"
"Of course she's got a cousin in Queens," Carolyn snapped. "Who hasn't?"
Mom tilted her head to one side and examined her daughter as though she had not really looked at her for a long time. She shook her head sadly. "It's not like you to shout, Carolyn."
Carolyn flushed guiltily and reached out quickly to clasp her mother's hand. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that—"
She shrugged, not knowing how to explain to her mother about the girl.
"Uh huh," Mom muttered. "Whatever it is, it's no good, that's what I think. You know I don't try to tell you what to do anymore, you're too old for that. But I’ll tell you this much," she waggled a finger at Carolyn, "I don't like the idea of you living with that girl. You never know what you might find in your apartment when you get home."
Carolyn frowned and turned away. She knew her parents didn't care for Angie, they had made that plain from the start. Yet she had not expected this attack from her mother. Besides, the timing was just all wrong. She couldn't even think of an answer.
Mom went on without waiting for one. "So, if you're smart, maybe you should get married already and forget this career girl business." She moved closer and lowered her voice. "Walter's a good boy," she said. "And he's waited a long time."
Carolyn heard the earnest pleading in her mother's voice and wanted to cry. What could she say to the woman, how could she tell her about Angie, about herself? She knew Angie was to blame for her mother's outburst. Angie and her stupid, obvious lie. Angie, the lonely and lost one, without parents or cousins in Queens.
"Oh, Mom!" she wailed. She threw herself into her mother's arms and buried her face against the woman's shoulder.
She did not cry but in her heart she cursed Angie for the humiliation and the shame.
The more she thought about Angie, the angrier Carolyn got. The anxiety, the fretting gave way to rage. For the moment, she forgot Angie's tactics, the scenes on the fire escape and the overdoses of pills. She forgot the tantrums, the threats and the tears. She even forgot that she loved her.
She busied herself with setting the table and carefully avoided further conversation with Mom. Mrs. Weber, happy in the knowledge that she had done her duty by her child, accepted Carolyn's silence as thoughtfulness and let her alone.
When Walter came in with Pop for supper, he took one look at Carolyn's face and promptly announced an early appointment in the city. Carolyn thanked him with a relieved smile.
The Webers did not waste time talking when there was food in front of them. Carolyn watched her father spoon soup into his mouth. He was a very long and lean old man, except for the mound at his waistline, and his white hair was still thick and wavy. She thought him the handsomest man she'd ever known and the nicest. His one weakness was a fondness for his wife's cooking. Tonight, his gleeful gluttony irritated her and she lost what little appetite she had.
Over coffee, Pop pumped Walter, as he always did, about the insurance business and how Walter was making out.
He liked to tell the story about the first time Walter had come to the house with Carolyn and how Walter had right off the bat sold him an insurance policy he couldn't afford and didn't really want. He respected Walter and considered him, he informed Carolyn at least once a week, a good catch for any girl.
Pop started to tell Carolyn the whole story for perhaps the hundredth time. She looked at her mother pleadingly.
"All right, Kurt," Mrs. Weber said. "That's enough."
Startled, the old man started to protest. "I was only tellin' Carolyn how—"
"She's heard it before," his wife said quietly.
Pop looked at Walter and shrugged. "Women!" he said. "I've been livin' with that one forty years and she still nags."
He poured himself and Walter a third cup of coffee. "But, anyhow, like I was sayin'…"
Carolyn dried the dishes for her mother, glancing every few seconds at her watch. Finally she put away the last cup and hung up the towel. She went to stand behind Pop's chair and sent Walter a signal with her eyes.
Walter stood up almost immediately and extended his hand to the old man. "We’ll have to keep the rest for next time, Pop."
Mrs. Weber put her fingers on Walter's arm and squeezed it. "Come next time, Walter, when you can stay awhile. I hardly saw you."
He bent to kiss her cheek.
"And you," Mom said to Carolyn. "You think about what I said. If you want to come stay home for awhile, don't be proud. Come." She spoke sternly but her eyes were soft with concern.
Carolyn promised that she would, kissed them both and ran down the stairs with Walter right behind her.
The drive back to Manhattan was an aggravation Carolyn could easily have done without. Cooler but still crowded, the day-at-the-beach traffic streamed back to town. By the time she reached the Battery it was after eight.
She had no idea what she would find at home or why she was in such a rush to get there. There were many possibilities but knowing Angie, she favored two: either she was supposed to find them in bed or expected to prevent them from reaching it. This time she didn't give a damn. Angie was going out on her ear. She'd pack Angie's bags and—
Walter brought her back to earth. She had stopped in front of his building and before he got out, he said, "Just one thing, Carolyn. If she tries another stunt like the sleeping pills, call the police. There's no reason why—"
"She won't," Carolyn assured him. "She's got a better gimmick this time."
He didn't look convinced. "Well, maybe. But a person who does things like that needs help. You can't take the responsibility for her."
"Oh, Walter," she said impatiently. "There's nothing wrong with Angie, you know that. She's just—"
"A spoiled brat?" he finished. "Yes, I know. Look, you told me months ago you only put up with all this because Angie needs you. Right?"
"Yes," she said. "She does. She's much better now than she was when I met her."
"Maybe, maybe not. The point is, Carolyn," his voice was very low, "do you need Angie?"
She wished she could laugh in his face and tell him that for once he was wrong. But she couldn't really. Not yet.
CHAPTER 5
Carolyn found a parking spot on Amsterdam Avenue and cut through a vacant lot to the house. Looking up at the windows, she saw that the lights were on and Brid
git perched asleep on the livingroom sill.
She started to take out her keys, then, remembering Jimmy, rang the bell instead. There was a limit to how much she could take.
Angie had the door open and was waiting in the hall when the elevator reached the tenth floor. She smiled a warm hello, then puckered for a kiss. Carolyn ignored her and charged on inside. Angie shrugged and followed.
Except for Bridgit, the apartment was empty. Carolyn felt like a fool. She knew that Angie had spent several hours with Jimmy, knew that the girl had been unfaithful to her. Less than an horn ago she had been angry enough to strangle her. Yet now as she turned to face her, Angie was a dream in a ruffled apron, all smiles and charm, playing house.
Carolyn walked past Angie and into the kitchen. She stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the mess Something was baking, she couldn't tell what. Every pot the house was dirty and most of the silver.
"I'm making a cake," Angie said cheerfully.
It was the last straw. Carolyn refused to lose her temper. She had to find out just how far Angie thought she could go. She turned on the hot water and let it run into the dishpan.
"Well, aren't you pleased?" Angie said impatiently. "It's chocolate, the kind you like. I meant it for our anniversary."
"Our anniversary was yesterday," Carolyn said bitterly.
"I didn't have time yesterday."
Carolyn glanced at her and laughed harshly. "Busy little bee, aren't you?"
Angie stamped her foot and turned to leave.
"Wait a minute!" Carolyn said and the tone of her voice stopped Angie in mid-stride. She handed the girl a towel.
"You dry."
She felt Angie eying her curiously and remained coldly aloof. She was not sure what she intended to say to the girl, but whatever it was, both of them knew Angie wasn't going to like it. Once, when Angie's back was toward her for a moment, Carolyn glanced quickly and saw the slump of the shoulders, the lowered head. She felt a tremor of satisfaction. As long as Angie was scared, Carolyn knew she had the advantage.
When they were finished, she said simply, "Angie, I want to talk to you."
"Can't it wait till later?" Angie said. "I have to wash my hair."
Carolyn took her hand and led her into the livingroom. "Now, Angie. Right this minute." She sat the girl down in a chair.
Angie pouted and swung her legs over the side of the chair, turning her face away from Carolyn. She looked sullen and withdrawn.
Carolyn sighed. She wanted to kick Angie's teeth in, to shake her till her brains rattled. But what was the use? She knew Angie would only laugh in her face. She walked around Angie to the windowsill and put her hand on Bridgit's head. The cat began to purr.
"When the Times comes out tonight, we'll find you a room," she began. "It won't be so bad, Angie. Maybe you can share a place with another girl. Like you used to at the club."
Angie merely stared past her.
She was not sure that the girl had heard. She tried again. "I'll help you out for awhile, till you're settled financially."
She waited. "I can't see any other way," she said.
She waited again. "Angie?"
"I don't need your money, Carol," Angie said. Her voice was hard and tight.
Carolyn flushed guiltily. "I didn't mean that, Angie. I only meant, since you haven't got any saved—"
"What the hell do you care how much money I have? You're throwing me out, aren't you?" Her voice was as nasty now as her expression.
Carolyn picked up Bridgit and sat on the couch with the cat in her lap. She stroked its ears gently and felt the purring against her thighs.
Angie watched her narrowly.
"I'm not throwing you out, Angie," Carolyn said patiently. "I just can't live with you anymore. You're driving me crazy."
Angie laughed, a hard, coarse sound. "Funny, you only think so when you're angry. You didn't feel that way last night in bed."
"How do you know what I felt last night?" Carolyn blurted. Then she calmed down before Angie could snap back at her. "Look, we've been through this a thousand times. I can't stand the way you manipulate me, the things you do.
I feel like a damned fool for putting up with you."
"But, Carol," Angie said, her voice trembling with hurt innocence, "what have I done?"
"How the hell should I know?" Carolyn almost screamed. "I don't know what you're doing half the time, Angie. And it doesn't do me a damn bit of good to ask, because I don't believe a word you tell me anyhow."
"Carol!" Angie sounded sorely misunderstood.
Carolyn felt instantly the twinge of guilt that Angie meant her to feel. She could no longer tell if it was sincere.
"When have I lied to you?" Angie persisted.
"I didn't say you lied to me," Carolyn said with exasperation. She felt the advantage shifting to Angie's side and hurried to make up ground. "I simply meant that I don't know where I stand with you. I have the feeling that what you say and what you think are two totally different things. You say you love me, but—" She gestured helplessly.
Angie bit her lips and prepared to cry.
Carolyn was instantly on the defensive. "Oh, no," she said quickly. "If you cry, Angie, so help me, I’ll knock your head off."
The girl opened her mouth to speak and her lip trembled uncertainly.
Carolyn started to get up and Bridgit dug her claws in to hang on.
"What do you expect?" Angie wailed at her. "You tell me you hate me and then you call me a liar. What do you expect?"
Carolyn dropped Bridgit to the floor and crossed to Angie's side in two strides. She hovered over her threateningly, her hands clenched at her sides.
Angie put up her arms to shield her head and cowered in the chair.
For an instant Carolyn wanted to slap her. But she knew it would be a waste of effort. She stooped beside Angie and took the girl's hands and held them between her own. "Angie, stop it," she said quietly. "You know I won't hit you."
"You have."
"All right, I have," she said desperately. She stood up and backed away from the chair. "Angie, look at me, dammit.
I'm not even near you now."
Angie obeyed quickly. Too quickly. Carolyn felt like a fat mouse between the paws of a hungry cat. She became suddenly wary and felt herself withdrawing from the battle. She knew she didn't stand a chance when Angie got wily.
"I have to turn off the oven," Angie said. She looked up at Carolyn as though waiting for permission.
Carolyn waved her off, glad for the distraction. "Go ahead," she said lightly. "Would you like a drink?"
Angie shook her head no and went out to the kitchen, humming to herself.
Carolyn listened to Angie hum and sighed. She poured herself a double shot of scotch and stood by the windows, looking out, the shot glass between her palms. She felt bleak and isolated inside, heartsick with the insights she was gaining into Angie and with her own lust to get even. She hated Angie and despised herself. Yet she could not let it go. She needed to find out the truth about the girl and punish them both with it.
She remembered what Walter had said about Angie requiring help. Perhaps he was right. There was something almost terrifying about Angie's need to manipulate and control. The need was a blind one. She knew that Angie could not be defeated with talk, for the simple reason that Angie never listened. And she knew that, before she could free herself from the girl, she would have to find another way to stop her.
She considered for a moment attacking Angie with a few of her own tricks. She had slapped Angie once and she had been ashamed. Yet it had gotten more of a response from the girl than anything she had ever said. Angie was well versed in the ways of violence. Still, Carolyn could not really see herself throwing a tantrum. She had never done so in her life.
But if she could make the girl trap herself… She knew that Angie lied so consistently that she couldn't keep track of her own stories. She had often trapped her in a falsehood, only to have Angie lie herself out o
f the lie. Neither of them knew what was truth anymore.
But if she were clever enough, she might just be able to force Angie to tell her what had happened, without the girl being aware she had done so. And if the truth was what she thought, if Angie were really having an affair with Jimmy, then, she believed, she had good reason to tell the girl to leave. Anything else she could put up with. But she would not share the girl.
Angie came back from the kitchen smiling, the kind of a smile called brave. When Carolyn turned to look at her, she thought that Angie must be losing her touch, her technique had become so obvious. Or maybe it was just that she herself was getting wise to the game.
Carolyn took a deep breath. She knew Angie would be difficult, but this time she felt that she could outsmart her.
"All right," she said, "we'll start over. Were you with Jimmy tonight?"
"Yes."
"How long?"
"About two hours."
Carolyn recalculated for herself and decided to accept the girl's answer. "All right. Now, what was that stupid call you made to my mother?"
"Oh, that," Angie said carelessly, as though she had forgotten. "Is that all that's wrong?"
"No, but it'll do for a start."
"Well, at the time, I wanted you to stay out late. I wanted to be with Jimmy."
"And you thought I'd believe you," Carolyn said flatly.
"Why not?" Angie sounded genuinely surprised. "I've never lied to you."
Carolyn let it pass. "Go on."
"Well, I changed my mind."
"Ah!" Carolyn said triumphantly. "The plot thickens." She knew she was being deliberately nasty, but she watched Angie backing herself into a corner and it gave her a perverse pleasure. "And why did you change your mind?"
"Well, when I thought about it, it didn't seem like a good idea."
"Why, Angie?" She sat her glass on the sill beside her and folded her hands across her stomach.
"I got scared."
"Of what?"
"Well," Angie shrugged, "I've never been to bed with a man before. You know that. And I got scared that it would hurt or I might get pregnant or something."
Unashamed, The Page 4