Beebo Brinker Chronicles 1 - Odd Girl Out (7 page)

Maxie's was already jammed when they got there and the Dixie Six was in action, as usual.

"My God, when did Bud Nielsen start playing with them?” said Charlie.

"Where?” said Mitch. “Oh, yeah!"

Laura looked up, and there was Bud with his long gold horn glinting through the smoke, standing in the fore of the little bandstand that stood in the rear of the room.

"Do you know him?” she asked Charlie.

"Yeah, I know him. Fraternity brother. Good musician."

"My roommate dates him,” said Laura.

"Beth dates this character?” Charlie looked at her in surprise.

Oh, no! My other roommate—Emily."

"Oh,” he chuckled. “I didn't think Cullison would go for this guy,” and he nodded at Bud.

Cullison, Laura thought in irritation. Her name is Beth. Elizabeth.

"God, it's crowded. Do you see a place?” Charlie said, squinting through the smoky pink gloom.

Laura became suddenly aware of someone saying her name and she turned around a couple of times, straining through the half-light at the myriad faces.

"Laura!” It was Beth. Laura saw her laughing and struggling through the crowd and her first wild impulse was to blindfold Charlie. But it was too late for that. She looked up at him and he was staring at Beth with a smile on his face. Laura was too upset to see that Mitch was smiling too.

Beth was worth staring at. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were very bright, as if she had a romantic fever of some sort. Actually, she simply had too much beer in her, and it was making her laugh. The boys in the crowd were squeezing and pushing her and Laura was suddenly furious to see that she was enjoying it.

Beth reached a hand toward Laura and Charlie took it quickly and pulled her past the last few people that separated them. He pulled hard and she fell against him, laughing and off balance. He caught her around the waist to steady her and when she was quite steady he held her still as if he were afraid she might lose her balance again, or as if he hoped she would.

Mitch and Laura watched this artful maneuver together, Mitch with a mild twinge of envy and Laura with raging jealousy. She almost swore at Charlie in her anger. Furious tears gathered in her eyes and her whole body was rigid with emotion. She hated Charlie for holding Beth, she hated Beth for letting herself be held, she hated the two of them just for being near each other. She was afraid to see them together; they had spoken too well of each other.

"My God, I thought I'd never make contact,” Beth was saying. “We're over there.” She gestured vaguely behind her, still leaning on Charlie. “Emmy talked us into it. Uncle John is getting a lecture on jazz. Bud's playing. Did you see him?"

"We saw him,” said Charlie.

Beth looked up into his face for the first time. “Hi,” she said. “You must be Charlie.” She leaned closer and studied him. “Yes, you are. I'd remember that face anywhere. I'm Beth Cullison."

"Yes, I know.” He laughed, holding her a little tighter.

Laura could hardly contain herself. “And this is Mitch Grogan,” she said in a sharp, impatient voice.

"Hi, Mitch.” Beth leaned away from Charlie to take his hand. Then she said, “Come on back and sit with us. We've got loads of room.” She looked up at Charlie again.

"Sure,” he said, releasing her slowly. “Think you can make it?” He grinned.

Beth took a few steps away from him and then turned back and said with an air of injured dignity, “Certainly."

Mitch and Charlie laughed at her, and then Charlie took Laura's arm—he failed to notice how stiff and unwilling it was—and followed Beth back to the booth. Beth introduced the boys. Emily smiled beautifully at them.

"Well, now,” boomed Uncle John over the racket, “you children can sit together over here and I'll sit next to Emmy. She's a trombone widow tonight.” And he laughed at himself, getting up and moving over to Emily's side.

Beth slid into the seat he had left and Laura nearly followed her in an effort to keep Charlie away.

"Whoa, my dear,” said Uncle John, catching her sleeve. “Let the gentleman in the middle.” She was furiously embarrassed.

Charlie sat between Beth and Laura, and Mitch settled next to Uncle John where he could gaze undisturbed across the table at Beth. He wasn't the only interested party. Laura kept an anxious eye on her, and every time Charlie leaned over Beth to smile or say something Laura crawled with irritation. The loud music prevented her from hearing what they said to one another.

As for Beth, sitting next to Charlie and crowded tight against the wall, she was surprised by the size of him. His eyes were dark and his grin was wonderful and she began to feel inside her an almost forgotten excitement. It was too strong to fight and too sweet to ignore. She didn't do anything about it; she just let it happen, and when after a while she felt his hand on her knee she let it stay there and smiled imperturbably across the booth at Uncle John.

But she was not as calm as she looked. The pressure of the warm firm hand on her leg exhilarated her and confused her at the same time. It had always taken Beth a while to react to a man; there were some she had never reacted to at all, in spite of the fact that she had allowed them to touch more than a knee. But from the moment Charlie's arm had circled her waist she had felt an almost electric delight in him, in his touch and his presence. She almost resented it; she had tried so hard to give her affection to men she thought were worthy of it. But Charlie had done absolutely nothing to deserve it except touch her once or twice and talk to her a little. And that light touch, that low voice combined to thrill her strangely and bother her until she began to wonder if there was something wrong with her ... or for the first time, something right.

Charlie's hand tightened on her leg and moved up a little while he talked to her. And then it moved up a little more, as if he were asking questions with it that had nothing to do with the words he spoke. Beth sat quietly letting him do as he pleased, too bewildered, too secretly pleased to stop him. She found that his touch made her shy; and the farther his hand traveled the harder it was for her to meet his eyes. But when she did she saw a promise in them.

Laura could see nothing but she suspected everything and she sat beside them, angry and tormented. Her sharp nails crept up her arms and threatened to come down them cuttingly. She was so tense toward the end of the evening that she almost gave a little shriek when Uncle John finally said, “Well, we'd better be on our horses, children.” She wanted to get up and bolt.

They went their separate ways home and Laura was greatly relieved to get some distance between Beth and Charlie. She was silent in the car, still nettled, trying to think of a way to make Beth sorry for being nice to Charlie, to make her apologize for Laura didn't know what. Her jealousy rode herd on her, goaded her unmercifully.

Mitch asked her a couple of questions about Beth and she hardly heard them or knew how she answered. Mitch was no threat, he didn't count; he hadn't sat too close to Beth and claimed all her attention and smiled at her and made her laugh.

There seemed to he only one solution, only one way to make Beth feel guilty, to make her stay away from Charlie, and that was for Laura to pretend that she really liked him. Laura made her mind up and set her chin in determination.

They reached the house and Charlie took her up the walk. Mitch leaned out of the car and called, “Hey, tell your roomie hello for me,” and Laura ignored him. Charlie just laughed at him; Mitch admired all sorts of girls but he rarely had the guts to ask them out.

At the door Laura turned and faced Charlie, and began to talk before he said a word. “Charlie, we're having a Christmas party—a dance—two weeks from today. An afternoon dance. Would you—would you be able to come?"

Charlie was trapped. There were always excuses for evening parties but what the hell was there to do in the afternoon that was more important than a dance? And he had only seconds to think of something. He saw the little tremor in Laura's lips, her timidity and distress. There was a letter at home on his desk from his father that read, “Glad you met the Landon girl. Just heard about her family—too bad. Give her a good time if you can. Probably needs some cheering up.” Still he hesitated. And then suddenly Laura came so near to tears that he said swiftly, “Why—I'd like to, Laura. Thanks."

His reticence stung and humiliated her, but at least he had said yes, and it was worth it to keep him and Beth apart. He smiled at her to make it up a little and gave her arm a friendly press. “I'll call you,” he said. And Laura had to dash into the house without answering him before she lost the last of her composure.

LAURA WENT HEAVILY up the stairs and into the room. Beth was in her pajamas. She looked up at Laura with a smile as innocent as if she had spent the whole evening playing checkers with a maiden aunt. Laura stood staring at her, her face drawn and pale, and Beth's smile changed to a frown of concern.

"Hi, honey,” she said. “You look pretty glum."

"I'm tired,” said Laura briefly, and turned away to hang her coat up. She was too proud, too hurt to tell Beth what the trouble was—and she was too afraid.

Beth watched her for a moment in silence, and then she said, “What's the matter, Laur?"

"Nothing!” Laura snapped. She got ready for bed in resolute silence; Beth couldn't get a word out of her.

When Laura came back from the bathroom she found the studio couch opened out and made up like a bed. Beth was stretched out across it with her eyes closed and one arm lying across her forehead. Laura felt a sudden creeping shyness with her.

"Laura,” Beth murmured sleepily.

Laura turned her gaze abruptly away. “Yes?” she said.

"It's awfully cold in the dorm."

Laura glanced back at her, her hand poised halfway to the towel rack. “It is?” she said.

"Um-hmm ... Want to sleep in here?"

Laura hung up the towel nervously. “But you're sleeping in here,” she said softly.

"There's room for two."

"Oh, I—I think I'll be okay in the dorm.” She felt suddenly a little panicky; she didn't know why.

Beth rolled over on her stomach and opened her eyes. She was smiling a little.

"'Fraid of me, Laur?” she said.

"No,” said Laura, trying to make it sound very casual.

Beth bounced up and down invitingly, laughing a little. “Come on, then. It's nice and warm in here.

Laura didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth and shut it again and then she turned around and looked at Beth, as if that might give her something to answer with. “Well—” she hesitated.

"I knew you would.” Beth grinned at her.

Laura tried to remember that she was mad at Beth. “I don't think I will,” she said severely.

Beth turned over on her back again and laughed. “Open the window a little, honey,” she said.

Laura opened it slowly and the fresh cold air came in. Then she went to the dresser and reached for the lamp cord.

"Laura,” Beth said in a drowsy voice.

Laura turned around, startled.

"Come here, Laur."

Laura stood still and gazed at her, wondering if she heard right.

"Come here, honey,” Beth said. “No, leave the light on. Come sit here where I can see you."

Laura walked slowly to the bed with a strange alarm growing inside her and sat gingerly on the edge. She was trembling a little. Beth reached for her arm and said, “Move over, Laur. Let me see you.” Laura moved closer unwillingly and trembled again.

"Are you cold, honey?"

"No.” Her voice sounded too small for the rest of her.

"What's the matter, Laur? Did I hurt your feelings or something?"

"No.” Laura clamped her hands together and stared at her knees.

"Tonight, I mean. I was acting kind of silly with Charlie, wasn't I?” Laura refused to answer. “I was a little tight, I guess. I didn't mean anything by it.” She hardly knew why she said this, why she felt the need to say it to Laura. It was almost as if she were reassuring herself that it didn't mean anything, when in reality she wasn't sure at all. “You know that, don't you, Laur? Don't you?” She wished she knew it herself.

"I—I hardly noticed it,” Laura said, clinging to her pride. Her arm felt like fire at the place where Beth's hand rested.

"Yes, you did. You're upset, I can tell. Laura, baby, it didn't mean a damn thing, believe me. Who's Charlie? gentle; it almost persuaded Beth herself. She sat up and My God, I hardly know him.” Her voice was lovely and put her arm around Laura. “Honey...” she said. “Am I forgiven? Hey, Laur?” It was a teasing whisper. She lifted Laura's chin and Laura wanted to press her hands to her pulsing temples.

"Yes,” she whispered, ashamed of her weakness.

Beth squeezed her and smiled. “Okay, you can turn out the light now,” she said, and released her.

Laura got up and her knees were precariously weak. She hadn't time or strength to analyze the sudden violence within her. She pulled the lamp cord and let the darkness in. And then she stood perfectly still for a moment, knowing she was going to get into bed with Beth. She moved very cautiously across the room and found the bed; and then she crept in and pulled the covers up to her chin and lay on her back, afraid to move or make a sound, afraid even of her own breathing.

They lay in absolute silence for a minute. Suddenly Beth rolled over and tickled her hard in the ribs. Laura gave a little scream.

"Well, thank God,” said Beth, laughing. “I was afraid you were dead. Don't you wiggle when you get in bed, Laur?"

"Yes—” She caught her breath. “No—” She didn't trust her voice, her thoughts, her body. She felt a great rush of warmth through all her limbs, electrifying, wild, radiating from the powerful thrust of her heart. “Oh, Beth ... Beth...’ she said, helplessly, drowned in it. Her voice shook and she realized that she was holding Beth's hands, that she had caught them to stop the tickling and held them still, held them hard against her ribs. Beth felt her quiver. “Laur, you are cold.” She knew she wasn't. She wanted to make her talk. Charlie had left her in a state of strange elation that made her restless.