The Beebo Brinker Omnibus

by Ann Bannon

  Beebo looked at the floor. “I’m going with Venus,” she said, humiliated by it. “I didn’t know what else to do, Jack,” she added vehemently. “I couldn’t live with Paula. I couldn’t live with you, not if I wanted to keep your friendship. I had to quit the Pasquini job—Pete’s been helling after me since I started. And besides—besides…” She stopped, throwing her arms out and letting them drop against her sides.

  “And besides, Venus asked you to go?” Jack said. Beebo nodded. Jack made no comment, but she knew he thought it was asinine of her. “Did you ever write to tell your father where you are?”

  “I thought about it, but I didn’t know what to say.”

  “Have you told Paula?”

  “Not yet. I was waiting till you got home.”

  “Paula’s more important.”

  “Jack, damn it, Paula doesn’t own me!” she cried, angry because she knew he was right. “My father doesn’t own me. I don’t have to tell them every move I make, just because they—”

  “They love you,” he finished for her. “Listen to me, little pal. You came to this town to grow up and find yourself. You can do that without breaking hearts. And so help me, Beebo, the first one you’re going to break is your own.”

  Beebo sat down on the bed. “Jack, I didn’t ask Paula Ash to love me,” she said. “I never said I loved her.”

  “Well, that makes it all swell.”

  “She’s a sweet, fine girl. I wouldn’t hurt her for anything. But what can I do?”

  “Should I give her that message?” Jack asked.

  “I’ll tell her myself!” Beebo said, stung. But she wished, with all the force of shame and indecision, that she didn’t have to.

  Jack lighted a cigarette thoughtfully. “I’ve gotten to know her a lot better the last few weeks. She was over last night, when you didn’t show again. There’s a new girl in her life, Beebo.” He tossed his match in an ash tray, scrutinizing Beebo’s startled face. “Miss Plaid Pajamas. You know her?”

  Beebo was shaken. “I know about her,” she said. “Oh, Paula…” She recalled the sleeping pills, the tears. Paula’s red hair, her scent, her green eyes luminous with love. She pressed a hand over her mouth, half to control a sob, half in recollection of Paula’s first gesture of love.

  “Regrets?” Jack said gently.

  Beebo took a deep breath. “It’s Venus I love,” she said softly, but it was strangely hard to say.

  “Well, that’s that,” Jack said. “Off you go to follow your star.”

  “I can’t help myself,” Beebo said, and that, at least, was true. “I’d rather cut my arm off than hurt Paula, believe me.”

  Jack smiled and lifted a hand to show he would not sermonize. “I wish you well, pal. I wish you love,” he said. “I only wish—”

  The phone rang. They all looked at each other. Finally Pat answered it, while Jack and Beebo watched him. “It’s for you, Beebo,” Pat said, holding out the receiver. She took it, looking apprehensively at him, and he mouthed the word, “Paula.”

  She shut her eyes. “Hello?” she said.

  “Hello, Beebo.”

  “Paula, I was just coming over. I—I wanted to tell you…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I know. I called to wish you Godspeed.”

  “You what?” Beebo wheeled around to look at the two men.

  “Pete called me,” Paula said. “He likes to play town crier.”

  “God damn him!” Beebo exploded. “Paula, I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you myself, at least. I—what did he say?”

  “He said you were going to California with Venus Bogardus,” Paula said simply.

  “Is that all?”

  “It doesn’t matter about the rest, Beebo. Pete always exaggerates. I just wanted to tell you, it’s all right. I think you should go. It’ll be a great experience.” Her voice faltered ever so slightly, and Beebo wanted desperately to hold her, to be able to say, “No, I’ll stay with you,” and somehow still be able to go with Venus. She felt as if she were being physically ripped in half.

  “I’m not being melodramatic, honest!” Paula said and she managed a small laugh. “I’m a hopeless optimist. I think you’ll be back. Or I couldn’t be such a good sport. Mona says ‘good sport’ is just another word for ‘sucker.’ She’s wrong, isn’t she? Beebo?”

  “Yes, Paula. She’s wrong, honey.” Beebo felt her own voice break and Paula said quickly, “Don’t come over, there’s no need. It’s much easier on the phone. Write to me now and then.”

  “Paula? Is that girl in the plaid pajamas pestering you again?” Beebo said anxiously. “Jack said—”

  “Jack is my knight in shining armor. If things get bad, he’ll come rescue me. He has before.” There was a pause. Beebo glanced gratefully at Jack and then she heard Paula saying, “Goodbye, Beebo. Good luck. No, bad luck, and come home soon. I love you, you know. You worm.”

  “I know.” Beebo swallowed. “Goodbye, Paula.” She let the receiver drop into its cradle and stood with her head against the wall for a minute.

  “You look like you’re set for a real pleasure cruise,” Jack said, noting her wan face and full eyes.

  Beebo picked up her bag in a brusque motion and strode to the door. But she couldn’t turn the handle. “Thanks for everything, Jack,” she said, full of fears at cutting loose from her only friend in the new world.

  “Come back when Venus shows you out,” he said kindly. “Our bunk is your bunk,” and he put an arm over Pat’s shoulder.

  “She won’t show me out,” Beebo said with what pride she still had. “Jackson, take care of that Paula for me.” She caught his shoulders in a hard grip. “I don’t know if I can stand to do this to her.”

  “You’re doing it,” Jack commented.

  Beebo looked at her bag, then grabbed it and ran down the hall and front steps without daring to look back.

  Jack shut the door softly and gazed at Pat. “You’re tanked,” he said indulgently. His thoughts were elsewhere.

  “You didn’t tell her about Pete and Mona,” Pat said. “Why?”

  “She’s going three thousand miles from here. Let’s hope she doesn’t need to worry about those two twerps any more.”

  “I’ve heard some of their sickening stories about Beebo around the bars lately,” Pat brooded.

  “Well, don’t give Pete and Mona all the credit,” Jack said shrewdly. “Not that they ever say anything nice about anybody. But it helps to have someone else feeding them information…. Somebody whose initials are Pat Kynaston.” It was as sharp a reproof as Jack had given him.

  “I only say good things about Beebo!” Pat protested, instantly wounded. “I adore that girl!”

  “I know. Good things. That’s all they need. Somebody in the Cellar heard you carrying on Tuesday afternoon: Beebo’s father, her home town, even that thing at the livestock exhibition. You want Pete to hear that, Pat? Think what he could do with it, if he wanted to.”

  Pat sank dismally to the living room floor. “Lord, I didn’t realize. I thought I was telling them how great she is. I thought Pete and Mona were inventing their stuff.”

  “They are, but not all of it. The nearer the truth they can get, the louder they’ll shout it—screwed around just enough to make Beebo look like the type of witch decent citizens should spend their Sundays burning.”

  Pat’s chin trembled. “I could strike myself dumb,” he said bitterly.

  Jack sat down and put an arm around him. “Just watch it, lover. She’s put herself in a spot to be crucified, if Pete has anything against her…and Mona already has, or thinks she has. All that girl needs is a whim, anyway.”

  The Bogardus home was located in a lush and secluded area of Mandeville Canyon Road in Bel-Air. It was huge, elegant, well-staffed and maintained. The grounds were a glowing sweep of hand-tailored grass, tropical palms exploding against the sky like green rockets, swimming pools—two—and the noisy brilliance of equatorial blooms.

  Toby showed Beebo around.
They walked over the lawns in bare feet, and Beebo marveled at it. It dazzled her eyes enough to take her mind off her sore heart a while. “Every time you push a button, somebody runs up with a martini,” she said. “It’s fantastic, Toby.”

  “I wish it weren’t,” Toby said. “I wish I had an ordinary house to live in.”

  “Poor little rich boy,” she grinned. “Wants an ordinary mama and papa, too, no doubt. Maybe when you’re older you’ll be glad you’re different.”

  “How would you know? You didn’t have to grow up this way.”

  “No, but I had to grow up,” Beebo said. “I would have traded my problems for yours any day.”

  “That’s what Leo says. His family didn’t have a dime,” Toby told her as they picked their way over the manufactured rustic rocks circling one of the pools.

  “Where is that guy, anyway?” Beebo said. Leo worried her, like a family ghost: much was made of him, yet he was rarely seen.

  “He’s in S.F.,” Toby said. “The servants expect him back the end of the week. He’s talking to a sponsor for Mom’s show.”

  “What’s he like? How do you talk to him?” Beebo said.

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry. He likes kids. Beside, he’s been talking about getting somebody to help with the horses for years.” Beebo felt a sudden wave of relief. She had not brought up the reason for her presence here, and it seemed odd to her that Toby hadn’t either—till she realized how Venus had explained it to him. “Besides,” Toby added, “It’ll be nice to have you around. You can help me with my homework. You ought to be good with the biology. For once, Mom didn’t get a square for me.”

  Beebo wondered how many other young people had preceded her in this household; how many synthetic friendships with young tutors, horsemen, and valets Venus had tried to promote for Toby, hoping he would turn into the easy-mannered socialite she somehow pictured him being when he was grown.

  At least it was reassuring to have a job, something legitimate to do to explain her membership on the family staff.

  Toby sat down at the pool’s edge and put his legs in the cool water. He was well-developed for his age, though still only five-feet-six. Beebo looked at his young male body, so carelessly normal, and she envied him painfully.

  “Leo’s jealous, but he’s tolerant, too,” Toby said. “I mean, he’s put up with so damn many men tailing Mom, he knows how to outsmart or outlast all of them. He doesn’t like it much, but he knows she needs them. At least, that’s what she says. I don’t know why a woman can’t be happy with one man…especially if he’s a good one.”

  “Some women can,” Beebo said. But she was thinking that a man of Leo’s knowledge and well-founded suspicions would doubtless take one look at Beebo and know good and damn well what his beautiful wife was up to. There was nothing to do but wait till he got home for the showdown.

  She confronted Venus with her misgivings about Leo. “He won’t hurt you, darling,” Venus said. “Don’t offend him and don’t defy him. He’s nervous as hell with a girl around the house.”

  “If he puts up with your men, why not with your women?” Beebo said gloomily.

  “I never cared much for the other girls,” Venus said circuitously. “Only for you.”

  “Well, that ought to ingratiate me with Leo for good,” Beebo said.

  “Leo’s afraid for my career. I guess that’s the only thing we agree on. My ‘normal’ affairs have scandalized enough people as it is. A gay love—if it got out—would finish me, Beebo.” She looked at her apologetically. “It’s hard for me to fight Leo. He—sort of—owns me. Economically, I mean, like he owns this house.”

  “Do you really hate him, Venus?”

  Venus picked at a nonexistent thread on her skirt. “I guess he’s a kindly man at heart. I think I’ve ruined his temperament.” She put her arms around Beebo as they lounged on her private sun porch. “Beebo, are you sorry you’re gay? Are you bitter about it?”

  “Yes,” Beebo said, and Venus frowned. “All day long, when you go off to the studio, I’m sorry as hell. At night, I get down on my knees and give thanks.”

  “There must have been bad times before I came along.”

  Beebo surfaced from a kiss on Venus’s golden shoulder. “When I was younger, I used to look out my bedroom window on summer nights,” she said, “and the brightest star in the sky was Venus. I wanted to reach out and take it in my hand. Put it in a box and make it mine forever.”

  Venus chuckled. “I’m not in a box yet, thank God. And I’m a lot handier than that dreadful planet.”

  Beebo settled closer to her and said with comfortable intimacy, “I want to share so many things with you, Venus. I want to see you sparkling at parties…take you shopping…watch you at rehearsals…”

  “You can’t,” Venus said, putting a finger on Beebo’s nose. Beebo brushed it off, protesting. “There won’t be time, for one thing,” Venus explained. “Not while we’re filming. And besides, Leo won’t let you. You’re too young, you’re too noticeable, and you’re too—well, female. I’ll have all I can do to keep him from putting you in a box.”

  “Well, of all the goddamn nonsense!” Beebo said, clouding up. “I just want to drive you places and wait. Watch you from a distance. I’m willing to be a servant, Venus, but not a dog on a leash.”

  “Darling, use your head. What if we were seen together, and it was common knowledge you lived here and went everywhere with me and—oh, Beebo, don’t look so crushed. I don’t like it either.”

  “You don’t want me around where you have to look at me all the time,” Beebo sulked.

  “Darling, I can’t look at you enough!” Venus said, half-amused and half-concerned at the outburst. “You’re the handsomest thing I ever saw.”

  “Is that what I am? A thing?” Beebo said, swinging her legs to the ground. She was surprised at herself for being pettish. But the moment she questioned herself about it, her thoughts flew to Paula. Paula would never talk to me this way.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Venus said.

  “You don’t want your things following you around in public.”

  “Beebo!” Venus cried, hurt. “I love you!” Her words made Beebo turn back and take Venus in her arms.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, realizing all at once that Venus was crying.

  “I adore you,” Venus wept. “I feel so free with you. Able to do the things that used to terrify me. Able to think about them without shame. I never let go like this with anybody in my life, Beebo.” She clung to her. “Darling, don’t shout at me for the things we can’t have. Be glad with me for the things we can. I’m trying to look at the world more charitably, Beebo—for you and for Toby. You try to look at me that way. Don’t just love me, understand me. I need it so.” She wiped her tears on Beebo’s shirt and glanced up at her.

  “You know something silly? I want to dress up for you. I want to sit and hear you talk. I don’t care whether I say a word. I want to be a real actress, not an obedient puppet. I even want to mother my son. When you tell me to do a thing, I fret for the chance to try.”

  Beebo stared at her, amazed at this oddly touching admission. “I even got a bunch of pamphlets from the Department of Agriculture,” Venus said, “on how to raise chickens and wean calves.”

  Beebo succumbed to laughter. “All you had to do was ask me,” she said.

  “I’ll show them to you,” Venus offered, trying to get up, but Beebo pulled her down again, her fit of pique soothed away.

  “I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “Besides, I’ve got you half undressed. What would the servants say?”

  “They’d say Venus is in love,” Venus answered, letting Beebo hold her. “And they’d be right.”

  Beebo made love to her with a new tenderness. And yet, again, when they fell asleep, she dreamed restlessly of Paula Ash.

  Venus began to spend all the daylight hours, and some of the night, with the production staff of Million Dollar Baby. Leo returned
from San Francisco, but Beebo would not have known it if Toby hadn’t pointed it out.

  They had been all day riding Leo’s horses in the boulder meadow surrounding the Bogardus estate, and when they got in, Toby announced, “Leo’s back.”

  “How do you know?” Beebo asked, suddenly on her guard.

  “Orange juice glass,” Toby said, pointing to a brandy snifter with an orange puddle at the bottom, sitting on an end table. “That’s all Leo ever drinks. He says we’ve got orange trees in the yard and the juice is free. He likes things that are free. Besides, he’s always on a health kick. Right now it’s citric acid. When he’s home there’s always a mess of sticky glasses around.”

  “He’s not going to like seeing me around,” Beebo said glumly.

  “Why not?” Toby looked at her curiously. “The stables are cleaned up for the first time in a year. And Mom is getting so nice to be around…. Gee, Beebo, he’ll probably hang a medal on you.”

  Beebo understood from his answer how little aware he was of his mother’s relationship with her. He had grown to trust Beebo, as well as like her, and as far as he knew, she was there only to help out with the horses during the day and look over his homework at night. The fact that she had been able to encourage Venus and Toby to try to know and respect each other at last was the frosting on the cake.

  But after he went to bed, Beebo would go to Venus’s room. They were lovers at night, but during the day, if Venus was home, she had to be as breezy and casual with Beebo as she was with everybody else.

  As for Leo, Beebo didn’t meet him for nearly a week. He got up at six A.M. and left the house by seven, before Beebo was stirring. He looked in on her with Venus once. Beebo was awakened early by the click of the bedroom door shutting behind him. But when she asked Venus about it, Venus only said, “I told him you were a farm kid. He likes that it makes you a sort of walking health exhibit.”

  “Does he like the fact that I’m a girl?”

  “Not a bit,” Venus said with a grin, refusing to spoil the moment by elaborating.