"Right," I said approvingly. "Or grind the pills into powder and sprinkle it into their water bucket. What do you think, Bobby?"
"Yeah," he said, pushing his empty plate away, "it might fly.
Providing the pill works, of course. When can you get one?"
"I don't know. it's just being developed. I'm telling you about it now to see if you'd be interested if it's a success." He looked at me.
"And if it is, how much you asking?
I shook my head. "This isn't a one-shot deal, Bobby. I want a piece of the action."
"Uh-huh ", he said, "that makes sense. I think we could work something out along those lines. Listen, I gotta get back to my office. Let me know when you got the pill."
Later that night I attended a Rumba dance at my private club. I wore a dress that had been purchased at a West Palm Beach shop specializing in slightly used haute couture, designer gowns.
Mine was a really gorgeous Galanos, a black lace chemise over a stretch body stocking. I had applied makeup, of course, and was wearing my new blond wig with short bangs and a chignon.
After the dance a fashion competition was held and I won first prize, a bottle of Dom Perignon.
The Luck was still with me.
Chet Barrow was just the handsomest boy I ever C met in my whole life.
And he was nice. I mean he never punched my arm or pushed me like that icky Ernie Hamilton does sometimes.
So when Chet told me he was thinking about running away I decided to go with him because in the first place I liked him and in the second place things were getting so nasty at my house that I just didn't want to live there anymore.
Like Daddy came home late one night, and you could tell he had been drinking alcohol. He and Mother got in a terrible fight.
I was upstairs doing my homework but I could hear them. Then I heard a loud slap and Mom came rushing upstairs. She came into my room and locked the door. One side of her face was all red, and she was crying.
She sat on my bed and I went over and hugged her and she hugged me, and then I started to cry.
"Don't cry, darling," she said, trying to smile. "Please don't."
"You're crying," I said, "so I can, too." I touched her cheek. "Does it hurt?"
She shook her head but went into my bathroom and washed her face in cold water. Then she came out.
"May I sleep with you tonight, Tania?" she asked me.
"All right," I told her. "But try not to snore. The last time you slept with me, you snored and I couldn't sleep.
She laughed and hugged me again. "I promise not to snore," she said.
Well, she didn't but I couldn't sleep anyway because I was afraid Daddy might break down the door and come in and kill us or something. I just didn't know what to do, and then I decided I would talk to him and tell him how he was making me and Mother feel.
I didn't get a chance until Saturday when she went shopping.
Daddy got up late and came downstairs acting grouchy. I made him some coffee and he said it was good coffee and drank three cups.
He also ate a sticky bun. I ate one also and sat at the kitchen table with him.
"Daddy," I said, "I don't think you should drink so much alcohol."
"I don't drink so much, baby," he said. "just enough to make me feel good."
"I am not a baby," I told him. "I'll be nine next year, and maybe alcohol makes you feel good, but it doesn't make Mother feel good or me either. And you slapped her. You shouldn't have done that."
He sighed. "I know I shouldn't, baby, and I'm going to apologize to her. Everything will be all right."
"Well, I don't see why you don't like her cooking. mother is a very good cook, everyone says so." you think I don't He looked at me.
"What makes like her cooking?"
"Well, a lot of times you don't come home for dinner, and you smell of perfume, so I guess you had dinner with some other woman because you like her cooking better." I smell of His face got all twisty. "Who told you perfume? Your mother?"
I didn't want to get her in trouble. "No," I said, mells "I smelled it myself. I know what perfume s like."
"Listen, baby," he said, "sometimes you get too bossy.
Maybe I do things that you and your mot er don't like but that doesn't mean I don't love you. When you grow up, you'll discover that at times you do things that seem wrong to other people, but you just don't change because of other people's opinions. Either because you can't or because you don't want to. It's your own life. Do you understand what I'm saying?
"Well, I don't understand why you drink so much alcohol when it makes Mother and me so unhappy, and you say you love us and all." a golf He stood up. "I've got to go, baby, I'm late for date. Tell your mother not to expect me for dinner."
Then I knew he was just going to keep on doing like he was and nothing was going to be different. So I decided I better run away with Chet Barrow.
Chet didn't have much money and neither did I, but I thought that maybe if I left home my parents would be worried and Daddy would be so sorry for the way he had treated us that he really would change. Then even if the police found me and brought me back, Mother and Daddy would be so glad that everything would be better.
It was like a book I read that my uncle wrote. It was called The Adventures of Tommy Termite. It was about this boy termite who runs away because he thinks his parents don't love him and sometimes they are mean to him. A lot of things happen to him, some good and some bad, but finally he decides to go home and he finds his folks were worried sick about him, and now they love him and treat him nice.
I went looking for Chet, and he was in their garage. He was sitting on an old wooden box and looking at a folding map of the entire country.
I sat down on the box next to him.
"What are you doing, Chet?" I asked him.
"I've been thinking, " he said. "Look at how big the country is. See here-this dot? That's our town. just look at all the places I've never been-the whole rest of the map."
"Are you looking for a place you want to go when you run away?"
"Not so loud," he said. "My dad went to the lab, but Mom's still in the house. Your father's in there, too.
"He is? He told me he had a golf date."
"Maybe he does. I heard him say he just stopped by to bum a cigarette.
Hey, look here-this is the Intracoastal Waterway.
You know where that is, don't you? "
"Of course. It's near Federal Highway."
"That's right. And it goes all the way up the coast. You get on a boat down here and you can go all the way up to Maine.
Isn't that neat?"
"Uh-huh. Is that what you're going to do?"
I'm just planning things."
"I haven't decided yet.
"Did you do what you promised?"
"What did I promise?"
"That you'd think about letting me go with you."
"Yeah, I been thinking about it. But I don't know… It could be dangerous.
You might get hurt
"I don't care. I want to go."
Well, I'll keep planning about it. That don't mean I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Doesn't. I don't care how long it takes to decide. I talked to my father this morning, and nothing is going to change in my house so I might as well go."
"Your mother will cry-"
"She cries now, Chet, and I'm still there."
He tried to fold up his map but he made a mess of it so I took it from him and folded it up right. We sat there awhile without talking. Chet scratched his ankle. ,You know," he said, "grown-ups are supposed to be so smart.
I don't think they're so smart, do you?"
"Sometimes they can be dumb," I said. "Like this morning my father told me he couldn't stop drinking alcohol. You know that film we had at school about taking dope? It was like that, like he was addicted and couldn't stop."
Maybe he is. Addicted, I mean."
"He could stop if he wanted to- Like I used to ea
t candy bars all the time. I got so fat. Remember that?
"Yeah, I remember."
"Well, I decided I'd just quit and I did. Once I make up my mind to do something, I do it."
"But that's you. People are different."
"Well, I don't see why my father can't just decide to quit, and then he would."
"I don't know," Chet said. "Ernie Hamilton wants to stop picking at his zits and he's still doing it."
"Because he's a stupid boy."
"You really think so?"
"Yes. I do."
"Do you think I'm stupid, Tania?"
"Of course not. I think you're very smart. You get all good marks, don't you?"
"Well, maybe not all, but a lot of them. You're smart, too."
"Thank you," I said.
He turned to face me. Suddenly he leaned forward and kissed me right on the mouth. It was the first time a boy had ever kissed me. I pulled back.
"You shouldn't have done that," I told him.
"Sure I should," he said. "Did you like it?"
"Yes," I said. reg went in to work on Saturday-he does that a lot-and Chester was outside when Herman Todd stopped by to ask if I could spare a cigarette.
He looked sharp in a plaid sport jacket and lime green slacks. He said he had a golf date but he didn't seem to be in any hurry.
I was in the kitchen making a meat loaf we were going to have for dinner that night. And I was watching a travelogue about Baluchistan on the little portable TV I keep on the counter. But I turned it off when Herman came in and gave him a cigarette.
"You look very snazzy this morning," I told him.
"And you don't look like Mother Hubbard yourself," he said, grinning.
"Now those are really short shorts.
"I like to be comfortable around the house," I said.
"There's no point in dressing up to make a meat loaf or run a vacuum."
"It's a wonder Greg can get any work done if you dress like that," he said. "Is he around?"
"No, he went to the lab."
"All work and no play," he said. "Doesn't he ever relax?
"Not very often."
"Too bad. He doesn't know what he's missing. How about you, Mabel?
What do you do for kicks?"
"Watch Baluchistan on television."
"That sounds tame. Don't you ever get an urge to take a walk on the wild side?"
I was working at the sink and didn't look at him. "Such as?"
I asked.
"Oh, this and that," he said. "There's a big, wonderful world out there, Mabel. A lot of fun, a lot of laughs. You should be getting your share."
"Someday," I said. "Maybe."
He came up close behind me and put a hand on my fanny.
"Don't wait too long, sweetie," he whispered in my ear. "You and I could have a great scene together.
"Yeah?" I said. "How could we do that?" I don't know why I said it.
"It could be worked," he said, stroking my can. "Trust me.
It would take some finagling, but it could be done. Will you think about it?"
I nodded, still not looking at him. He gave my butt a final pat and then he left. I held the edge of the sink because I was shaking. It was the first time a man had come on to me since my marriage, and I was all bollixed up. I decided I better tell Dr. Noble about it. That's what I was paying her for, wasn't itadvice.
I had a session with Cherry on Tuesday and told her how I had been propositioned. I didn't say who it was, but I had already mentioned Herman Todd so she probably guessed.
"How do you feel about it?" she asked me.
"Shaky," I said. "I want to and I don't want to. Oh, shit, I don't know how I feel. Tickled in a way because I can still turn a man on.
What do you think I should do?"
She looked at me a moment, not saying anything. Then, "Mabel, how often do you and your husband have sex?"
"Infrequently," I said. "And that's one word, not two.
She didn't even smile. "Were you sexually active before your marriage?"
"Very. And I do mean very."
"What made you decide to get married?"
"Oh, I just figured it was time to settle down."
"Were you in love with Gregory?"
"Oh sure, I liked him. But to tell you the truth, doc, I liked all the men I dated, one way or another. I like men.
That's no sin, is it?"
"Of course not. But of all the men you liked, you picked Gregory. Was there something special about him? " I laughed. "Sure there was. He had a good job and good chances for promotion. You can't blame a girl for being practical, can you?"
"Mmm. Do you want to save your marriage, Mabel? "
"Of course I do. if it can be saved. I'm willing to do anything I can, but I'm not sure Greg is going to change. He's so cold and distant."
"Have you ever told him how you feel?"
"I've tried to. He just doesn't want to talk about it. To talk about us."
"Do you think he'd be willing to talk to me? I could see the two of you separately and then, if progress is made, the two of you together."
"Greg would never go for it. A lot of the work he does at the lab is secret, he never says a word about it. And gradually his life has become secret, too. He just won't reveal anything about himself. He won't talk about personal things. Not to me anyway. Sometimes I think he must hate me."
"Why would he hate you, Mabel?"
"Who the hell knows. I've never hurt him."
"Never?
I found it hard to tell her. Listen, it's not easy to confess private things to a stranger. She may have been my therapist but she was still a stranger. I mean I liked her and all, but I wouldn't strip myself naked in front of her. And what she was asking was a lot harder than taking your clothes off.
But then I figured what was I paying her for and then holding back things that might help her to help me. That didn't make any sense at all. So I decided to tell her. I was sure she had heard worse things from some of her screwed-up customers.
"Actually, I did something," I told Dr. Noble, "but it couldn't have hurt Greg because he doesn't know the truth about it."
"What was it, Mabel?"
"Well, before I was married, I got pregnant. I told Greg it was his.
Look, it might have been, I wasn't really telling a lie.
But it also could have been four or five other guys. I was playing a big field and I just didn't know for sure."
"But you selected Gregory?"
I nodded.
"Why him?"
"I told you. He was smart and making a good living. The other guys weren't serious. If I had told them I was pregnant by them, maybe they'd have offered to pay for an abortion but probably they'd have said, Tata, Mabel, lots of luck."
"
"Why didn't you have an abortion?"
I figured I better level with her. I had already confessed so much, it seemed silly to stop now.
"At the time I was working in a bakery. It was just walking around money but I didn't need much. I was dating almost every night, so my food bills were nothing. And sometimes the guys would give me gifts.
Costume jewelry or maybe a sweater. Nothing really expensive. I never took cash. Never! I had a great body in those days. Everyone said so.
But the fun and games went on and on, and I began to get scared.
I still had the bod, but I was getting a little long in the tooth. You know what South Florida is like-a new crop of centerfolds every year.
I wasn't ancient or anything like that but I began to wonder what was going to happen to me. I'd see a bag lady ooting through a garbage can and I'd get the chills. r I figured I better make a permanent connection real soon.
And then I got knocked up. I know I'm not the brainiest woman in the world-you've probably discovered that for yourself-but I saw the pregnancy as leverage. You know? To get what I wanted, a steady husband and a home. So I picked Greg. I suppose you think I'm a stinker for doing that."
>
"No, I don't think you're a stinker, Mabel," Dr. Noble said.
She really did have a nice smile. "I think you reacted to your circumstances in a remarkably sensible way.
What you did solved your immediate problems-but it resulted in the new problems you have today. Do you think that's a fair assessment?" guess.
"Mabel, I previously urged that until we can get your life straightened out I would prefer your not making any major changes.
That includes having relations with the man you say propositioned you.
I can't tell you what to do, of course, it's your decision.
But I believe that if you start a new intimate relationship at this time, it will only add to your problems and make a solution more difficult. Will you think long and carefully before you decide?"
"Oh sure, doc, I'll do that."
"And now I think our time is up. See you on Thursday? "
"I'll be here."
I left Dr. Noble's office realizing she hadn't really told me what to do. I guess she didn't want to be blamed if what she told me to do turned sour. Like she said, it was my decision. The way I saw it, it was a no-win situation.
Laura at Hashbeam's had sent me a postcard saying they had a new shipment of sequined T-shirts she thought I might like. So I walked over there to take a look. I was feeling so miserable I had to buy something. just for a lift, you know.
I've played the fool all my life. And I've discovered l'you can know it and not do a damned thing about it. I mean you can be stone-cold sober and still act the fool. You do something stupid and you say to yourself, "This is stupid," but you keep right on doing it. I've decided a man is really a slave to his glands.
At least I am.
"You're an erotomaniac," Chas once said to me. "When the hell are you going to grow up?"
"Never," I said. "What's the point, big brother?"
Wednesday was a rough one at the office. Most of my days are rough, but this was supertough, a lot of unexpected claims, two big deals that fell through, and a nutsy client who stormed into my office screaming his policy was paid up but he just of another premium notice. It took me an hour to calm him down and send him on his way. He was wrong, of course.
By four in the afternoon I'd had it and told Goldie I was going out to the club and she could reach me there if the office burned down or one of our agents dropped dead.
Private Pleasures Page 6
