Beebo Brinker Chronicles 1 - Odd Girl Out (18 page)

BOOK: Beebo Brinker Chronicles 1 - Odd Girl Out
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"You said you'd tell me what the trouble was if I bought you one Martini,” he said.

"Yes, I know. Well, I find I'll need two.” She smiled charmingly at him.

"That s just what you don't need, darling. You're already loaded on beer. How much beer did you have?"

"Not very much."

"You were asleep when I came."

"I was not. I was thinking."

"Anyway, you promised you'd tell me after one Martini."

"Did I? I can't remember. It's a funny thing about me, Charlie. I never keep my promises. Never believe me when I promise you something."

"What's the trouble, Beth?"

"One more drink,” she pleaded. He looked at her askance and she gave him a little-girl smile and said, “I'll be good. Honest.” She felt a driving, desperate, relentless need to forget.

"I think you need some black coffee and some food."

"After this drink."

He shook his head. “I don't know,” he said.

"Charlie...” Her voice was tender and soft. “Please."

With a sigh he signaled the waiter. “Two more,” he said, and she smiled. He put his arm around her and said, “Now talk to me, Beth. Talk to me."

She cocked her head a little to one side and said with sleepy suggestiveness, “Charlie, let's go to bed. I want to go to bed with you, Charlie."

He smiled quizzically at her. “Later, honey."

"I want you to make love to me.” She put her head back against him and looked up at him so that their lips were very near and Laura was very far away. “I want it. I want to be so close to you that I can't get any closer. I want you to hold me so tight that I can never get away ... so it won't be my fault if I never go back. Can you hold me that tight, darling?"

Charlie felt his heart speed up and he tried to fight the feeling. “I'm worried about you, Beth. I'm worried,” he said. He pushed an errant curl behind her ear and kissed her cheek and said, “Tell me why you want to get drunk."

She pulled away from him and lifted her glass and drank half the Martini. “I just want to get drunk. I like to get drunk. I haven't been drank for years. Anything wrong with that? Besides, I can't think of anybody I'd rather get drank with than you."

"That's the truth?"

"Um-hmm."

"And nothing but the truth?"

"Yes."

"Beth?” His voice implied that he knew better.

She turned and looked him full in the face and said, “Charlie, I wouldn't lie to you,” and shook her head to augment her honesty, and then she picked up her glass and finished her drink.

Charlie watched it go apprehensively. “Why not?” he said. “Why wouldn't you lie to me?"

"Why Charlie,” she said, laughing a little. “Because you're the most beautiful man in the world. You know that, darling? You're beautiful."

"Yeah, I know.” He grinned sardonically at his drink. “You told me once. But you can lie to anybody, Beth. Doesn't matter what they look like."

"Nobody ever told me that,” she said. “Think of all the lies I could've told! I've been lying to the wrong people, Charlie. Maybe I should tell them the truth and see how they like it. Maybe they'd start telling lies themselves. It's awful to be the only one. It's lonesome."

He frowned seriously at her.

"One more drink,” she said.

"No."

She picked up his glass and drank almost all the drink before he could stop her. “My God, you're a queer one,” he said, laughing.

She put her head back and laughed with him. It seemed unbearably funny. “Oh!” she said, trying to catch her breath. “You called it, Charlie. You're so right. You have no idea—” and she laughed again. When she was calmer she leaned against him and turned her luscious eyes to his face and said, “Charlie, darling?"

"What?” he said, smiling at her.

"Can I excite you? Just looking at you, I mean?"

His mouth dropped a little and then his smile widened and he turned and fingered the stem of his glass. “Don't be foolish, honey."

"Charlie, look at me.” He looked. “I'll bet I could."

"Not here, Beth. Not now."

"Oh, yes. Here and now."

"I think it's high time we leave,” he said, making a move to get up, but she gripped his thigh and he stopped cold. “Beth, my God!” he said in a low voice. “Are you out of your head? Damn it, stop."

She didn't answer and she didn't obey. “Charlie,” she said, smiling with her lips parted. “We can't go now. We can't go now, you'll make a spectacle of yourself."

"Beth—” He stared at her, astonished. “Waiter!” she said, taking advantage of his confusion. The man saw her two raised fingers and nodded. And now when Beth started to pull her hand away, Charlie caught it and pulled it back. She felt his breath come fast and her own excitement began to mount. She leaned against him and said voluptuously, “We're going to have a nice slow drink. It'll calm your nerves."

"Beth, for God's sake,” he said. “Oh, Jesus, Beth, you're crazy. You're absolutely crazy."

"I know. I'm crazy. That's my excuse. That's my excuse, Charlie. I need an excuse. I'm a girl in need of an excuse. You'd be surprised how I need—'

"I hear you,” he said, smiling a little. “I need one myself right about now."

"What's it like, Charlie?"

"What's what like?” he said cautiously. “What's it like to feel the way you do right now?"

"God, Beth,” he said softly, and she felt a tremor run through him. “Stop talking, darling.” He pushed her away. The waiter brought their drinks. “Beth, let's go,” he whispered. “Let's go, honey."

"No,” she said. “You haven't had your nice drink. Drink your Martini, darling, like a good boy."

"I don't want the damn drink. Damn the drinks. Let's go."

"No,” she said and smiled at him. “You don't have to drink yours, but I'm going to drink mine.” She drank half of it and leaned toward him. “How do you feel now, Charlie?"

"Beth, you damn little witch,” he said.

"Tell me,” she begged. “I want to know."

"I don't know,” he said, “but I'm going to tear this God damn table apart if we don't get out of here right now."

She patted his arm. “Drink your drink, dear. Maybe the table will go away."

"Beth,” he pleaded. He trembled again and pulled her hard against him.

"Charlie, what will the neighbors think? I mean, we have to think of our reputations. I mean, my God, here we are in public, and everything.” She felt giddily funny. Everything was funny. Charlie started to take her drink away from her, but she snatched it back and finished it, and some spilled on her blouse. “Charlie, darling, look what I've done. Wipe it off.” She smiled at him like a malevolent siren. “Wipe it off, darling,” she whispered.

He looked at the drops of liquor melting slowly into her cotton blouse and swallowed hard.

"You're sweating, Charlie,” she said.

"Beth, we've got to go—"

"Oh, no!” she said. “Charlie, you can't."

"Can't, be damned. I have to."

"Your drink. You can't leave your drink."

He picked it up and drank it all down and set the glass hard against the table top. “All right, let's go.” He got up holding his coat and pulled her after him. He put an arm around her to steady her, and guided her out of the bar.

They walked toward the car.

"Charlie, you're wonderful when you're drunk,” she said. “You're wonderful when you're excited. I want to kiss you, darling."

He propelled her sternly toward the car and when they reached it he sighed with relief.

"Can we go back to the apartment?” she whispered when they pulled away from the curb.

"No. Mitch is there. We'll go out to the motel on Forty-five. Out near the air base."

"Anywhere,” she said. She put her head down in his lap.

"Charlie, how long will it be? How far do we have to go, darling?"

"Beth, don't ask me questions. I've got all I can do to drive."

He reached down with one hand and tore her blouse open. Beth chuckled at him and heard the buttons chink on the floor. At stoplights he pulled her up and kissed her violently, nearly crashing her. The tires screamed when he rounded a corner and he drove a wild eighteen miles to the motel.

He pulled Beth out of the car and into the room so fast that he had her laughing again, dizzy and wild and hot, like carousel music. He almost tore her clothes off her. He didn't even turn the light on. She fell back on the bed laughing, teasing him, pestering him, refusing to help with her clothes.

"Oh, Beth,” he said, and his voice was rough. “Beth, God, I need you. God, I wish I understood you! Oh, darling...” His groan thrilled her. She surrendered passionately to him and for a while she forgot her pain. For a while there wasn't any pain, there was only a heady purifying madness. She let her mind empty as her body was fulfilled.

For a long time they lay in each other's arms, half asleep, murmuring to each other, absorbed with each other.

"Feel better, darling?” he said. “Or do you want to go out and get drunk again?” He laughed against her shoulder.

"No. Don't have to ... This'll last forever. Oh, Charlie, I don't know what I'd do without you. I just don't know."

"I thought I caused all your troubles."

"Oh, lets not talk about troubles. Please..."

"Can't you tell me about it, honey?"

"Not now. Later. Please, later."

He lay still for a minute and then he said, with his lips moving softly against her skin, “What am I going to do with you, Beth? You worry me, darling. I don't know how I'm going to leave you. I guess this is the first vacation I haven't looked forward to since I started college. I'm—almost afraid to leave you, Beth. I wish to hell I knew what was the matter."

"Nothing's the matter. Nothing. Not now.” She cuddled against him.

He stroked her hair. “I wish I could believe that, honey."

After a while they got up. It was almost nine o'clock. They were slow and sleepy getting into their clothes and often they had to stop and hold each other. Every time they separated, Beth felt the pain a little more. It was coming back, little by ominous little.

"We'll stop on the way back and get something to eat,” he said. “You must be starving."

Beth felt herself, as if that might clarify the matter, and said, “I don't know."

They stopped at a drive-in on the outskirts of town and got a couple of hamburgers and some coffee.

"Well,” he said, “did you get Laura straightened out?"

"Straightened out?"

"Wasn't she giving you a hard time? Emmy said something—I don't know.

"Oh, she's just temperamental. She's just—I don't know. Let's not talk about Laura."

He was silent for a minute, eating his sandwich, and then he said, “Why didn't she want you to go out with me?"

"Oh—she had a crush on you. That's all.” The bread and meat stuck suddenly as her throat went dry with alarm.

"No, she didn't!"

"She did, darling. Anyway, how do you know she didn't?"

"Oh, hell, I don't know. I can tell. Can't you tell when someone has a crush on you?"

"Not always."

"Well, I can. And Laura didn't."

"Well, she did, Charlie. I talked to her. We-sort of had it all out."

"Why was this so hard to tell me?"

"It wasn't. It's not hard. I'm telling you."

"The last time I saw you you couldn't. It was so damn difficult you couldn't even think about it."

Beth forced herself to swallow; she was beginning to feel edgy with anxiety. “Oh, well—I hadn't talked to Laura, then. I didn't have a chance. I didn't want to say anything until I talked to her."

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Well? What did you say when you talked to her?"

"Oh, I told her she was behaving like a child. I was kind of nasty, I guess. I said she was acting like a spoiled brat and spoiled brats belong at home with their doting parents."

"My God, you were nasty. Jesus, honey, that was pretty low, wasn't it?"

She frowned at him. “What do you mean? It wasn't so bad. She was acting like a child. I just told her if she couldn't act grown up she'd better go back to her family where she belongs. Where somebody'll take care of her.'

"She can't, Beth."

"She can't?"

"Didn't she tell you? I mean, didn't you know?"

"Know what?” Beth put her hamburger down, feeling suddenly sick. The incipient hangover, the passion, the overcooked beef, combined to aggravate her misery.

"They're divorced. Happened just before she came down to school. I guess it was pretty bad. Anyway, Laura was all upset about it.” He paused. “You didn't know this?"

Beth shook her head.

"That's why I kept taking her out. She needed a shoulder to cry on. Poor kid. She really needed somebody. She was terribly alone. Still is, I guess. I felt sorry for her. My God, didn't she tell you all this?"

"She didn't tell anybody."

"You'd think she'd've told you. I mean, roommates ... you know."

Beth held her head. “Oh, Charlie, I feel awful. Oh, I feel awful."

"Honey, are you going to be sick?"

"I guess so,” she whispered.

"Yes, you are,” he said with a swift critical glance. “Come on, here we go. Can you make it to the ladies’ room?"

"I don't know."

He led her as fast as he could to the John. She made it just inside the door, fell to her knees and let the sickness flow out of her. Ten minutes later she came out, very pale.

"Charlie, I want to go home,” she said. “I want to go home."

"I know. I'll take you home. You're going to be all right, darling, don't worry.” He took her out to the car and drove her back to the house. She said nothing, leaning heavily against him and moaning a little now and then.

At the house he stopped and took her in his arms. “Poor little girl,” he said. “Feel any better?"

"A little."

"Darling, that was my last exam today. How long will you be down here?"

"Day after tomorrow. Leave at noon."

"Will I see you?"

"Charlie—Oh, darling, I—"

"Okay,” he said. “When will you be back?"

"February sixth."

"I'll be here the fifth. In case you come early."

"Charlie.” She sat up a little and looked at him. “Darling, oh, I've been a bitch. Oh, Charlie, I'm a mess. Darling, I—"

BOOK: Beebo Brinker Chronicles 1 - Odd Girl Out
12.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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