Beebo Brinker Chronicles 2 - I Am A Woman, In Love With A Woman

by Ann Bannon

  "So you came down here. And I was a nice convenient safety-valve."

  "I didn't mean that!” she flared. “Doesn't matter what you mean, baby. It's a fact Here you were, desperate. And here was I, ready and willing. You knew I wouldn't turn you down.” Laura's face began to burn. She had a wild idea that her back was blushing with her cheeks. “What would you have done if I had turned you down, Laura?” Beebo spoke softly, insinuatingly, teasing Laura, enjoying herself. But Laura was too humiliated to tease back. “I don't know,” she exclaimed miserably. “I don't know what I could have done.” And she covered her face with her hands. “I'll tell you, then. You'd have begged me. You'd have gotten down on your knees and begged me. Sometime you will, too. Wait and see."

  Laura whirled toward her, insulted. “That's enough!” she said harshly. She pulled her underthings forcibly from under Beebo, but Beebo caught the shoulder strap of her brassiere and hung on to it with both hands, her heels braced against the floor, laughing like a beautiful savage while Laura yanked furiously at it.

  "You're going to get about half,” she said. “If you're lucky. I'll get the other half. Half isn't going to hold much of you up, baby."

  Laura let go suddenly, and Beebo fell back on the bed, grinning at her.

  "Laura hates me,” she said. “Laura hates me.” She said it slowly, singsong, daring Laura to answer her.

  Laura glared at her, defiant and fuming. “You're an animal!” she hissed at her.

  "Sure.” Beebo chuckled. “Ask Jack. That's his favorite word. We're all animals."

  "You're nothing but a dirty animal!"

  "What were you last night, Miss Prim? You were panting at me like a sow in rutting season."

  Laura's eyes went wide with fury. She grabbed the nearest thing-a hairbrush-and flung it violently at Beebo. Beebo ducked, laughing again at her young victim, and Laura turned and fled into the bathroom. She slammed the door so hard it bounced open and she had to shut it again. With frantic fingers she tried to turn the lock, but Beebo was already pushing on the other side. Laura heaved against it, but Beebo got it open and she fell back against the wall, suddenly frightened. “Don't touch me!” she spat at her. Beebo smiled. “Why not? You didn't mind last night I touched you all over. Did I miss anything?” Laura shrank from her. “Let me go, Beebo."

  "Let you go? I'm not even touching you."

  "1

  want to leave. I want to get out of here.” Laura tried to push past her but Beebo caught her, her strong hands pressing painfully into Laura's shoulders, and threw her back against the wall.

  "You're not going anywhere, Bo-peep,” she said. And began to kiss her. Laura fought her, half sobbing, groaning, furious. Beebo's lips were all over her face, her throat, her breasts, and she took no notice of Laura's blows and her sharp nails. Laura grabbed handfuls of her hair, wanting to tear it out, but Beebo pulled her close, panting against her, her eyes hypnotically close to Laura's. And Laura felt her knees go weak.

  "No,” she whispered. “Oh, God no. Oh, Beebo.” Her hands caressed Beebo's hair, her lips parted beneath Beebo's. All the lonely months of denial burst like firecrackers between her legs. Once it had started her whole body begged for release. It betrayed her. She clung sweating and heaving to Beebo. They were both surprised at the strength and insistence of their feelings. They had felt the attraction from the first, but they had been unprepared for the crescendo of emotion that followed.

  It was a long time before either of them heard the phone ringing. Finally Beebo stood up, looking down at Laura, watching her. Laura turned her face away, pulling her knees up and feeling the tears come. Beebo knelt beside her then, the hardness gone from her face.

  "Don't cry, baby,” she said, and kissed her gently. “Laura, don't cry. I know you don't want to make love to me, I know you have to. Damn that phone! It's not your fault. Laura, baby, you make beautiful love. God grant me a passionate girl like you just once in a while and I'll die happy."

  "Please don't touch me. Don't talk to me.” She was overwhelmed with shame.

  "I have to. I can't help myself any more than you can. I had no idea you'd be like this-Jesus, so hot! You look so cool, so damn far above the rest of us. But you're not, poor baby. Better than some of us, maybe, but not above us."

  Laura turned her face to the wall. “Answer the phone,” she said.

  Beebo left her then and went into the living room. Laura could hear her voice when she answered.

  "Hello?” she said. “How are you, doll? Fine. Laura's fine. No, I didn't rape her. She raped me.” Laura sat straight up at this, her face flaming. Beebo was laughing. “Tell her what? It's all fixed up? You mean I can send her home to Marcie?” Her voice became heavily sarcastic. “Well, isn't that too sweet for words. Okay, Jack, I'll tell her. You what? ... With who? ... Oh, Terry! Yeah, I've seen him. You got a live one there, boy. Hang on to him, he's a doll ... Okay, don't mention it. It's been a pleasure. Most of it. She's lovely ... So long."

  When Beebo returned to the bathroom, Laura was standing at the washbowl, rinsing her face, trying to compose herself. “What did he say?” she asked Beebo. “It was Jack."

  "I heard."

  Beebo put her arms around Laura from behind, leaning a little against her, front to back, planting kisses in her hair while she talked. “He says you're forgiven. He handed Marcie some psychological hocus pocus about a neurosis. You are neurotic, love. As of now. As far as Marcie's concerned, you have attacks. She should have a few herself."

  "Don't be so sarcastic, Beebo. If you knew what I've been through-how scared I was—"

  "Okay, no more sarcasm. For a few minutes at least. God, you're pretty, Laura.” Like Jack, like Marcie, like many others, she realized it slowly. Laura's singular face fit no pattern. It had to be discovered. Laura herself had never discovered it. She didn't believe in it She grew up convinced she was as plain as her father seemed to think, and when she looked into the mirror she didn't see her own reflection. She saw what she thought she looked like; a mask, a cliche left over from adolescence. It embarrassed her when people told her she was pretty.

  "Don't flatter me,” she said sharply to Beebo. “I hate it."

  Beebo shut her eyes and laughed in Laura's ear. “You're nuts,” she said. “You are nuts, Bo-peep."

  "I'm sane. And I'm plain. There's a poem for you. Now let me go."

  "There's no rush, baby."

  "There is. I want to get home.” She twisted away from Beebo, turning around to face her.

  Beebo let her hands trail up the front of Laura. “Home to Marcie?” she said, and let them drop suddenly.

  "Okay. Go home. Go home, now that you can stand it for another couple of days. And when the pressure gets too great, come back down again. Come back to Beebo, your faithful safety valve."

  "You said you wouldn't be sarcastic."

  Beebo wheeled away, walking into the bedroom. “What do you want me to do, sing songs? Write poems? Dance? Shall I congratulate you? Congratulations, Laura, you've finally found a way to beat the problem. Every time Marcie sexes you up, run down to Beebo's and let it off. Beebo'll fix you up. Lovely arrangement."

  She turned to Laura, her eyes narrowed. “Laura gets loved up for free, Beebo gets a treat, and Marcie stays pure. Whatever happens, let's not dirty Marcie up. Let's not muss up that gorgeous blonde hair."

  "Don't talk about her!” Laura had followed her into the bedroom.

  "Oh, don't get me wrong, Bo-peep. I'm not complaining. You're too good to me, you know. You give me your throw-away kisses. I get your cast-off passion. I'm your Salvation Army, doll, I get all the left-overs. Throw me a bone.” She was sitting on the edge of her rump on her dresser, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded on her chest-a favorite stance with her.

  Laura was suddenly ashamed of the way she had used Beebo. Beebo was hurt. And it was Laura's fault.

  "Everything's my fault, Beebo,” she said. “I'm sorry.” There was silence for a minute. Laura was acutely aware that �
��I'm sorry” was no recompense for what she was doing to Beebo. Beebo smiled wryly. “Thanks!” she said.

  "I am, Beebo. Really. I didn't come to you last night just because of Marcie.” It was suffocatingly hard to talk. She spoke in fits and starts as her nerve came and left her.

  "No?” Beebo remained motionless with a ‘tell-me-another’ look on her face.

  "No. I came-I came because—” She covered her face with her hands, stuck for words and ashamed.

  "You came, baby. That's enough,” Beebo finished for her, relenting a little. “You came and I'm not sorry. Neither are you, not really. The situation isn't perfect.” She laughed. “But last night was perfect. It isn't like that very often, I can tell you."

  Laura looked at her again. Then she moved toward her clothes, afraid to stay naked any longer, afraid the whole thing would start over again.

  Beebo came toward her, pulling the slip from her hand and dropping it on the floor. “There's no hurry,” she said. “I'm going, Beebo. Don't try to stop me."

  For a moment Beebo didn't answer. Then she scooped up some of Laura's clothes on her foot and flung them at her. “Okay, baby,” she said. “But next time, you don't get off so easily. Clear?"

  "There won't be a next time.” Laura concentrated on dressing, on getting her body covered as quickly as possible. “I'm grateful to you, but I'll never do it again. It isn't fair, not to you."

  Beebo laughed disagreeably. “Don't worry about being fair to me, baby. It didn't bother you last night."

  "I couldn't think last night! You know that."

  "Yes. I know that. I'm glad. I hope I drive you out of your mind.” Beebo's eyes bored into her and made her rush and stumble. She was afraid to confront her, and when she had her clothes on she caught her jacket up with one hand and headed for the door without looking back.

  Nix pranced after her. Before she got the front door open, Beebo caught her and turned her around. “Goodby, Beebo,” she said stiffly.

  Beebo smiled, upsetting Laura with her nude closeness. “You'll be back, Little Bo-peep. You know that, don't you.” It was a statement, not a question.

  I'll never come back, she told herself. I'll never open this door again.

  And, confident that she meant what she said, she turned and walked away. Within minutes she was riding uptown on the subway. In less than half an hour she was climbing the flight of stairs to the penthouse, her heart pounding. The door was open. Laura went in, feeling her legs start to shake. There didn't seem to be anyone around. She walked through the apartment: no-one. She slipped her jacket off and went into the kitchen to find something for breakfast. Out on the roof she could hear people laughing, while competing portable radios squeaked from different corners. The population of the apartment building had taken to sunning itself on the roof on fair weekends.

  Laura ate some toast and orange juice, sitting quietly, on the kitchen table. She's out there on the porch. I know she's out there, she told herself. She was afraid to face her, afraid to go looking for her. She wanted to fall into bed and sleep, but she knew she would never rest until the thing was straightened out.

  Laura emptied her orange juice glass and put it down resolutely on the table. She set her chin and slipped off the table, heading for the door. She bumped flat into Jack as he came in.

  Laura gave a little scream and jumped backwards. “Oh,” she said, shutting her eyes for a minute to let her heart come back to normal. “It's you."

  "Say it like you're glad to see me, Mother,” he said, smiling wistfully.

  "I am,” she exclaimed, coming toward him then and taking his hands. “Oh, Jack, I am. I don't know what I would have done—"

  "Now you're embarrassing me,” he said. “They're out on the roof sunbathing, by the way."

  "They?"

  "Burr's here."

  Laura started for the door, but Jack caught her sleeve. “Are you cracked?” he said. “This isn't the time. Wait till Burr leaves.” Laura stopped, unsure. “You don't want to go out there and try to explain it to her now, do you?” Jack said. “I just want to get it over with."

  "It'll keep. Don't be pushy."

  Laura rubbed her forehead. “You're right,” she said. “I can't talk to her in front of Burr.” She laughed a little. “I am cracked. People have been telling me that all day."

  "You don't have to say much anyway,” Jack said. “I did a smooth patch job. She thinks you're a little goofy. But harmless."

  Laura smiled at him in relief. But as they gazed at each other the ghost of Beebo came up in her mind and she was suddenly blushing without Jack's having said a word. “I-I think I'd better go in and lie down, if you'll excuse me,” she said, anxious to get away from him. “Didn't get much sleep last night?” he said.

  "Not much.” She looked at the floor, not quite forgiving him for leaving her in the lurch the night before. “You sent me home with her,” she reminded him.

  "I didn't send you to bed with her. I gave her orders. I told her no monkey business. She promised to behave.” He was still smiling, curious to hear her defend herself.

  Laura wondered quickly whether she could get away with a lie, ashamed as she was of the truth. But she knew her hot cheeks would betray her. They always did.

  "She did behave, Jack.” His eyebrows went up skeptically. “She-what I mean is-it was me."

  He looked at her sideways. “You mean you just sort of fell into each other's arms?"

  "Well, sort of."

  "By mistake? In the dark?"

  "I-I—"

  "You're fibbing. I know Beebo. Who made who?” He opened the ice box and fished out a beer. “Do I have to say it, or are you going to tell me?"

  "Well, damn it, who are you?” she exclaimed. “You have no right to know anything."

  "Okay. I'll get it from Beebo. She says you raped her."

  "She's a liar! I heard her say that. Damn!"

  Jack laughed, opening the beer. He sniffed it “God, what awful stuff,” he remarked. “I only drink it before noon. Cheers.” He drank, and held the can toward her. “Want some?"

  "At this hour?"

  "Your stomach doesn't know what time it is."

  "Your stomach, maybe."

  "Did Beebo jump you, Laura? If she did I'll break her head.” He asked it suddenly and quietly, and she saw that he meant help and comfort to her. He had to stick a few pins in her, only to pull them out and offer first aid. It was the way he did things.

  "She didn't-no,” Laura said, turning away. “Jack, don't make me talk about it."

  "You could talk to me before."

  "You turned me down last night,” she said pettishly. “I had to. There was someone else last night."

  "I ... oh damn it, Jack, I'm ashamed of myself. It was my fault, I made it so easy. No, that's a lie. I did it on purpose.” A wave of tears welled through her and subsided, leaving her with her hands over her face. Jack started to speak but she silenced him with a wave of her hand. “It's been so long, Jack. It's been hell. I've been so lonely. I didn't know a person could be that lonely and live. And then I moved in with Marcie and it was suddenly torture. All these months I've been here. And most of the time I've been dying for her. And last night-I was so tired, so mixed up and I had a couple of drinks—"

  "You sounded nuts on the phone."

  "I felt nuts. I felt awful. She took me home, and she was very decent. She really was. She wanted to, I know that. But she didn't. She gave me her bed and she went in the living room and slept on the couch. I thought I'd fall right to sleep. But I couldn't. I just tossed and turned, and every time I heard her turn over I was on fire. It got too strong for me. I finally gave in. 7 did it. It was my fault, Jack."

  "Poor Laura.” He said it sympathetically. “Come here, honey.” He put his arms around her and held her, stroking her back. When he did it, she didn't mind. She'd have resented any other man ... except maybe Merrill Landon. But Merrill Landon never showed affection to anyone.

  "I know how it is,
believe me,” Jack said. “You're starving, and somebody puts a feast in front of you. What happens after that is Instinct Overwhelming. You eat. Or you die of hunger, right there, with all that food in front of you."

  Laura clung to him, letting herself cry softly and gratefully into his shoulder.

  "Let me give you just one little word of advice, Mother. Don't starve yourself anymore. Or that hunger is going to kill you."

  She looked at him with wet eyes. Her face was strangely different, and Jack could see it A night of love, a night of luxurious satiation, had changed her. For all her fatigue, her shame at herself, her body was happy and relieved. She couldn't help that She felt physically good, for the first time in over a year, and she had Beebo to thank for it.

  "You're different,” Jack said, smiling. “You look good. I don't care how tired you are. It's becoming-love."

  "That wasn't love."

  "What was it, then?"

  "Just purely physical. Animal. Vulgar."

  "Love has a body, Laura. Eyes and lips, legs and sex. We humans can't help that."

  "Love is bigger and better than that. There hasn't been any of that with Marcie and me, but I love her."

  "That's idealistic crap."

  Laura gasped, her eyes widening in sudden anger, but he interrupted her sharp retort before she could make it.

  "Love is no bigger and better than the people who feel it,” he said. “What has your love for Marcie got you? A fat neurosis, a lot of misery, and a night in bed with somebody you hardly know because you couldn't stand it any longer. If that's what makes it bigger and better, the hell with it. Feed it to the crocodiles.” And he turned brusquely away.

  Laura stared at him, unable to answer him. It struck her harshly that he might be right “But I love Marcie,” she whispered hoarsely.

  "Sure. You love her because she looks like Beth, or whatever the hell her name is."

  Laura was shocked. “No, no, Jack you don't understand. That has nothing to do with it. I love her.” He turned to look at her, cynicism written plain on his face. “I love her because—"

  "Because she's under the same roof with you, two feet away when you go to bed at night Because she's young and pretty. Because you can't have her."