The Beebo Brinker Omnibus

by Ann Bannon

  “I said, you’re not going anywhere, baby,” she said, and she wasn’t kidding.

  “Beebo, be reasonable. Please. You can’t know how important it is to me.” It was suddenly important in a new way, too; it meant distance between her and Beebo. She was vaguely afraid that Beebo was strong enough to overwhelm her, to dominate her life. She needed something else to keep her perspective, her independence.

  “You don’t know how important you are to me,” Beebo returned. “What the hell, you’re half a day late already. Call ’em and tell ’em you’re sick.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t lie worth a damn, Beebo.”

  “You can say ‘I’m sick’ can’t you? It’s a cinch, I do it all the time. Come on, let me hear you say it.”

  “I can’t. I turn bright red when I lie.”

  Beebo released her and turned over on her stomach, laughing. “Jesus, Laur, you could turn bright green. Who’s going to see you over the phone? Do your damn radiologists have X-ray eyes?”

  Laura was on her feet and heading for the phone in Beebo’s kitchen. She dialed the office, while Beebo got up and followed her to listen.

  “Sarah?” Laura said.

  “Laura! Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m all right. I’ll be down as fast as I can get there. I’m terribly sorry. Is Dr. Hollingsworth mad?”

  “No. You know him. He’s awfully nice about these things. He did ask if you called in, though. He asked twice. Are you sick?”

  She looked at Beebo, who grinned at her. “Yes, I’m sick,” she said, setting her chin.

  “Well, gee, maybe you’d better not come in, then.”

  “No, I’ll be all right.” She glared at Beebo, who was laughing at her red cheeks. “I’ll be in right away.” She hung up and brushed past Beebo haughtily without looking at her.

  “Laura,” said Beebo, coming after her, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re not going to work.”

  Laura picked up her wrinkled clothes and said, “Do you have an iron?”

  “You won’t need it.”

  “I can’t go out like this.” Laura held up her rumpled dress, trying to shake it out.

  “Then you just can’t go out.” Beebo stretched out on the bed and made a clucking noise at her. “Poor baby,” she said.

  “Why is it you’re such an angel in bed and a bitch out of bed?” Laura snapped.

  For answer, Beebo only lay on her back and laughed at her. Laura looked at her lithe body and after a moment she had to turn away to keep from lying down beside her. “I don’t even like you, Beebo,” she said harshly, hoping it would hurt. “I don’t know why I can’t keep away from you.”

  “It’s because I’m such an angel in bed, Bo-peep,” Beebo said. “That’s all you care about. That’s all you want from me.”

  Laura whirled and threw one of her shoes at her. “Bitch!” She exploded. The hurt had backfired. Beebo spoke the truth. And then Laura turned away to hide the surprise she always felt when the passion in her burst to the surface. In silent embarrassment she slipped into her panty girdle, burningly aware of Beebo’s amused stare while she pulled it over her hips.

  “I wouldn’t bother, baby,” Beebo said lazily.

  “Why not?” Laura wouldn’t look at her.

  “Number one, I hate the damn things. Number two, you don’t need one. Number three, you can’t go to work in a girdle. Period. And that’s all the clothes you’re going to get.”

  “What?” Laura turned around.

  Beebo had gotten off the bed and with two or three sweeping gestures she grabbed Laura’s clothes and headed for the bathroom.

  “Beebo, what are you doing? What’s the matter with you? Give me those things! Beebo!” Laura tugged at her but Beebo, laughing, was too much for her. Nix burst out of the bathroom as Beebo shouldered in. She turned on the shower full force and threw the clothes over Laura’s head into the drink. And while Laura was still spluttering at her she threw Laura in, too, gently, dumping her on the clothes. Everything, everybody, was soaked.

  “Beebo, you animal! You’re impossible!” Laura said furiously. She turned off the water angrily and snatched up her clothes, wringing them out into the tub. She was trembling with anger. She faced Beebo with a crimson face and threw the clothes at her.

  “Take the girdle off, Bo-peep,” said Beebo with unconcern. She threw the clothes over a wooden drying rack. “It doesn’t do a thing for you.”

  Outraged, Laura tried to scratch her, but Beebo pinned her back against the bathroom door and kissed her. Laura bit her and only made her laugh. With a feeling of excitement so strong it almost made her sick, Laura knew what was coming.

  “No!” she exclaimed, suddenly sobbing. “No, I won’t! No!” But it was submissive, helpless. Beebo forced her to her knees. Standing spreadlegged beside her, she put her strong hands behind Laura’s neck and pressed Laura’s face into her belly. “I said I’d never stop, Bo-peep. I said never, remember?”

  “Please, Beebo…” Frustration and desire were both so strong in Laura now that she was nearly out of her mind. Her weakness had got her again, and Beebo would make the most of it.

  It was late afternoon before she called Marcie. She had left under such peculiar circumstances that she was afraid of what Marcie must be thinking. She didn’t want to call. Marcie was angry with her, to Laura’s surprise.

  “You told me you were coming right back,” she said.

  Laura was bewildered. “I meant to,” she said. “I swear, Marcie.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “No, I didn’t, I just didn’t know—I mean—”

  “Don’t lie to me anymore, Laura. It makes me sick. I thought we were finally getting close to each other. I thought we were finally going to be friends.” She sounded upset.

  “But Marcie, we are.”

  “I know where you went, Laura.”

  Laura went white, and Beebo, who was lounging around the kitchen making dinner, turned to watch her with a frown. “What do you mean, Marcie?” Laura said.

  “I nearly lost my mind,” she said. “I would have called the police and made a fool of myself. But I called Jack first, thank God. Laura, why won’t you tell me the truth? Why won’t you just admit that I make you nervous? This isn’t the first time I’ve driven you over to Jack’s. If you don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong how can I ever do anything right?” Her voice broke. “I feel as if I’m making your life intolerable. As if you’d rather move in with Jack and live in sin than put up with me. You might as well, you spend so much time in his bed.”

  “Marcie! Marcie, I don’t!” Laura was thunderstruck.

  “I’ve already talked to him, so don’t deny it, Laura.”

  “Marcie, honey, listen to me. I—” She looked up at Beebo and the look on Beebo’s face silenced her. “Marcie, we’ll have a long talk tonight. I’ll try to explain it to you. We can’t talk over the phone.”

  There was a brief pause on Marcie’s end. Then she said, “Are you at Jack’s now?”

  “I—no—I’m at the office.”

  “You must have just gotten there. I’ve been trying to get you all afternoon.”

  Laura got more bewildered, more tongue-tied, the more she lied. “Marcie, I can’t talk now,” she said urgently. “Please. I’ll come right home. I’ll explain.”

  “All right, Laura. But I’ll tell you right now, I’m ready to move out if you want me to. I’m sick and tired of getting on your nerves and not knowing why.”

  Laura shut her eyes and tried to control her voice.

  “Laura? Are you still there?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll see you tonight, Marcie.” She hung up and turned a pale face to Beebo.

  Beebo snorted and opened the refrigerator door. “She still straight?” she asked sarcastically.

  Laura was stung. “No,” she flung at her. “She’s falling in love with me.”

  “Don
’t kid yourself, Bo-peep.”

  “I’m not kidding. And I’m not blind. She’s jealous of Jack. She thinks I spent the night with him and it’s her fault. She wants me home.”

  “How sweet,” said Beebo and chucked her under the chin. Laura pushed her hand away impatiently.

  “My clothes should be dry by now,” she said, getting up.

  “Call Jack,” said Beebo. “Ask him what he told your roommate.”

  Laura hated to do anything Beebo suggested, just because Beebo suggested it. But Beebo was right. Laura called him at the office. She got him five minutes before closing.

  “I found out from Mortin—the bartender at The Cellar,” he said. “And if you pull another fast one on me, Mother, by Jesus, I’m going to let you stew in your own juice. I called you a dozen times last night. You must have been out on Cloud Nine. Marcie’s mad as hell. She thinks I’m corrupting you.”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” Laura said earnestly. “Jack, what would I do without you?”

  “I don’t know. But I wish to hell you did. Marcie’d like to see me behind bars.”

  “Jack, isn’t that a good sign? I mean she seems almost jealous.”

  “Oh, Christ,” he said, and then he laughed. “You’re really goofy for her, aren’t you?”

  Laura looked up at Beebo. “Yes,” she said. “I am.”

  “Well, watch it. I don’t know what to tell you. Nothing seems to register. If I say ‘she’s not gay’ to you once more I’ll sound like a broken record. But she’s not. I don’t want to see you get stabbed, that’s all. Better you should blow off steam with Beebo until you get over Marcie.”

  “I’ve blown off about as much steam as I can stand,” Laura said, and Beebo laughed. “I’m through.”

  “Don’t be so dogmatic, Mother mine. You’ll only have to swallow your words and you’ll look like an ass doing it.”

  Laura wouldn’t believe him when he told her Marcie was straight. She wouldn’t because she didn’t want to. She had told him, she had even told Beebo now, that Marcie was falling for her. She didn’t dare believe it herself, but if somebody else did, maybe somehow that would help. Her desire, her pride, trapped her. “Thanks again, Jack,” she said. “One of these days I’m going to do the same for you. I swear.”

  “One of these days you may have to. And Laura—”

  “Yes?”

  “Watch out for Burr. You’re on his black list.”

  “What’d I do?”

  “He thinks you’re turning his pretty little sex-pot into a neurotic. He’s jealous.”

  Laura smiled, surprised.

  “Well?” said Beebo, when she hung up. “Going home to your little wife?” She grinned.

  “Beebo, sometimes you make me sick.”

  “I know. I’m enough to make you go straight. Go sleep with Jack tonight, it’ll do him a world of good.”

  “Oh, shut up!”

  “At least it’ll give him a whopper to tell his analyst.”

  Laura turned on her heel and left the room. She felt her clothes, hanging in the bathroom. They were still damp, but dry enough to iron. She brought them into the kitchen. “Where’s the ironing board?” she said.

  “Pretty determined, aren’t you?”

  “I certainly am.”

  “I’ve got dinner ready. You can eat before you go.” There was a faint tone of pleading in her voice, as if she knew the time had come when sheer force was useless. Laura had made her mind up.

  “I don’t want another thing from you, not even dinner.”

  “No, not for another day or two,” Beebo said and her voice became rougher as she talked. “You just want to run down for kicks once or twice a week. I’m pretty damn convenient, aren’t I?” She pulled the board out from the wall and plugged the iron in, her movements sharp and angry. Laura felt a little afraid of her. Her blue eyes snapped and there was no trace of her usual humor in her face.

  “You’re the bitch, Laura, not me. You’re using me,” she said. “Go on, iron the damn thing.” She waved a hand at Laura’s dress and Laura spread it out on the board.

  “I’m sorry, Beebo,” Laura said, taken aback.

  “Sure you are.”

  “All right, Beebo,” she said softly. “I won’t bother you anymore. Ever.”

  Beebo snorted at her. “You try it and I’ll beat you, I swear I will,” she said. “I’ve had enough from you, Laura. I’m not made of stone. Am I nothing to you? Am I supposed to believe I’m nothing to you? Do you think I like to stand and listen to you slobber over that simpering little roommate of yours? Can she give you what I can give you? Well damn it, can she?”

  Laura couldn’t face her, much less answer her. She only worked the iron over her dress and glanced at Beebo’s shoes.

  Beebo’s voice softened a little. “Jesus, what a mess,” she said, leaning on the refrigerator. “Here I am falling for you. I ought to have my head examined. I ought to know better.” She came over to Laura and took the iron out of her hands and Laura had to look at her. “Laura,” Beebo said, leaning toward her, “I’m nuts for you. I wasn’t kidding.” They gazed at each other, Laura surprised and scared and flattered all at once. “I need you, baby,” Beebo whispered. “Please stay.”

  “I can’t, Beebo,” Laura said.

  “You don’t really think you’re in love with that little blonde, do you?”

  “Yes.”

  Beebo shook her head and shut her eyes for a minute. “Jack says she’s straight. Jack is a shrewd boy. Don’t you believe him?”

  “No.”

  “You want to get the Miseries, baby? That’s the quickest way.”

  “You don’t know her, Beebo. Even Jack doesn’t know her as I do. She’s changing. She seems interested in me. She’s sort of approachable. She doesn’t even want to see her ex-husband anymore. She wants to stay home at night with me. She breaks dates with him to do it.”

  “All right.” Beebo turned away. “Suppose she’s gay. Suppose she is. What then?” She turned to look sharply at Laura.

  Laura was stumped. She had never looked beyond the present into that possibility. What would it be like, just the two of them, both gay, living together, in love? “Well, then everything will be wonderful,” she said.

  Beebo gave a short unpleasant laugh. “Yeah,” she said. “Wonderful. You walk hand in hand into the sunset.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Beebo. I never made a secret of my feelings for Marcie.”

  “I never made a secret of mine for you, baby.”

  “We’d never do anything but fight, Beebo.”

  “Fight and make love. I could live forever on such a diet.” She smiled a little.

  “It would drive me crazy. I couldn’t take it.”

  “Do you think there won’t be fights with your little Marcie if she turns out gay?”

  “I suppose there will.”

  “You know damn well there will. And if she’s straight, what happens? She reads you the Riot Act. Calls the cops. Sics her husband on you.”

  “She wouldn’t do any of those things, Beebo. She’s a sweet girl. She wouldn’t get wild like you.”

  “Not according to Jack. You’ve known her four months. Jack’s known her for years.” Beebo lighted a cigarette and blew the smoke through her nose. “Want to know something, Bo-peep? Want to know what it’s like? I’ve had it happen to me—more than once. If you’re gay, it just happens now and then, that’s all. You get the bug for some lovely kid and you can’t keep it to yourself. You get closer and closer. And if she plays along it’s worse and worse. And finally you give in and you grab for her. And she turns to ice in your arms.”

  She looked at Laura and there was a deep regret in her eyes. “And she gets up with the God-damnedest sort of dignity and walks across the room and says ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for you. Now go away. Don’t talk, don’t try to explain, I don’t want to hear. It makes me sick. Just go away, and I won’t tell our friends. You don’t need to worry. Just so I
never see you again.’ It makes you heartsick, baby. You get so sick inside. You give yourself the heaves. All you want in God’s world is to get the hell out of your own skin and be normal. Fade into the crowd like a normal nobody.” She crushed her cigarette out, grinding it into the ashtray with her thumb till the paper burst and the brown tobacco spilled out.

  Laura felt closer to her. All the insults of the day faded in her mind. She walked over to her, her pressed dress over one shoulder. “Beebo,” she said softly.

  But Beebo wasn’t ready to let herself be touched. “Just remember one thing,” she said. “Too many Marcies in your life, and you commit suicide. That’s what it is to be gay, Laura. Gay.” Laura stepped back a little shocked. “Sometimes all it takes is one,” Beebo said.

  “No,” Laura whispered. “Oh, no.”

  “Okay, baby, go find out for yourself. I can’t stop you, Jack can’t stop you.” Beebo’s eyes were brilliant with bitterness, with the hard knowledge of her own experience. “Go play with your little blonde. You’ll find out soon enough she has claws. And teeth. And when you get to playing the wrong games with her, she’ll use them.”

  “Never!” Laura said. “Even if she’s straight she won’t hurt me. She’s not that kind.”

  “She doesn’t have to hurt you, idiot. Can’t I get that through your head? All she has to do is say ‘no thanks.’ Kindly. Sympathetically. Hell! If you want her bad enough, you’ll die of it. I know, Laura, I know!” And she took Laura’s shoulders and shook her head until Laura felt like sobbing. Beebo released her suddenly and they stood in silence, unable to talk, heavy with feeling, trembling.

  Finally Beebo said quietly, “Go on, baby. Go home and get it over with. You’ve been warned.” All the fight seemed gone out of her.

  When Laura left, Beebo came to the door with Nix at her heels. She was unsmiling. “Come back, baby,” she said. “To stay. Or don’t come back at all.” And when Laura turned away without answering she called after her, “I mean it!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Laura entered the penthouse and walked slowly back to the bedroom. It was hard to imagine Marcie’s mood. Marcie looked up from her bed, her hair in pincurls. She was a relief to Laura’s eyes after the stormy, ranting handsomeness of Beebo. Marcie looked beautiful, even with tin clips in her hair. But she looked cool, too; ready for a fight.