CHAPTER 3

During the half hour she waited, Carolyn made her decision: Angie would have to go.

She knew that she hadn't stopped loving the girl. She wasn't sure that she could. But that didn't matter anymore.

For six months she had let Angie dangle her on the end of a string, making their life an emotional shambles. When Carolyn was a good little girl, Angie gave her a kiss. When she wasn't, Angie took an overdose of pills. Whatever Angie wanted, Carolyn had learned to let her have. But this time the girl had gone too far. Carolyn had made all the compromises with herself that were possible.

She was positive that the girl had not been unfaithful to her before. Oh, she flirted with everybody, it was true, and in the beginning it had sickened Carolyn to watch her, pretending to a wantonness and a freedom that she never brought to their bed. But she knew it meant nothing, really. Angie merely used her youth and her pretty face to get whatever she wanted.

But it was different this time. She wasn't sure exactly what made it different, except maybe the guilt she had seen in Angie's eyes. It wasn't Jimmy that mattered so much. It was that Angie was using him to get even, to punish her.

And this time Carolyn would not allow her to get away with it.

Even if she were completely innocent, Angie would have to go.

Carolyn made herself a cup of tea and summoned Bridgit to come wait with her in the livingroom. It was unbearable for Carolyn to wait and worry alone and Bridgit was good that way. She saved her bits of affection and sympathy for moments of need.

She sat on the couch with the cat curled in her lap and put her hand on its purr and felt comforted. With her head back and her eyes half closed, Carolyn remembered the music and the soft lights and she thought again of the girl.

The air was still fragrant with Angie's perfume and the room itself seemed alive with her.

We have been happy here, she thought. And for the moment, she believed it was so.

She began to hum softly to herself, a waltz she used to listen to when she and Bridgit lived alone, and her head swayed in time to the music.

She imagined Angie dancing, seducing her with the liquid movements of her body, circling close, yet not close enough. She reached out to touch her and the girl laughed and spun away, her hand outstretched to someone else.

The girl clung to her partner, her face hidden against his chest. His hands caressed her buttocks, hugging her close.

He whirled with her, lifting her off her feet. They spun faster and faster and the music raced to keep up with them.

Slowly they sank together to the floor. He pressed down on top of her. The girl wriggled beneath him, arching her back to welcome him. As he moved, the girl turned her head. Carolyn could see her face, laughing and happy.

In the hall the elevator door slid open, then closed. Bridgit leaped suddenly from Carolyn's lap and sped into the bedroom.

Carolyn was in the hallway when Angie opened the door. She grabbed the girl by the forearms and dragged her inside. Angie struggled to shake her off, but Carolyn shoved her up against the wall.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Angie sniffed disgustedly and started to turn away. Carolyn smacked her across the face.

"Are you crazy?" Angie screamed, but the cry was one of rage, not of pain.

Carolyn stepped away from Angie with her hands at her sides and turned her back on the girl. Already the fight had gone out of her. She was ashamed that she had hit the girl. She had never done it before.

Angie took off her shoes and kicked them into the hall closet. "I don't like you when you act like a child," she said to Carolyn's back. "It's not very becoming on a woman your age."

The first time Angie had used that line, Carolyn had been devastated for days. There was something too like a mother's disappointment in Angie's tone and in her words. This time Carolyn recognized the gimmick and she smiled.

"You're right," she said in a serious voice. "Maybe I'm getting senile." She nodded thoughtfully. "After all, I'll be thirty-one in less than a year and—"

"Oh, shut up!"

 

"Well, you said…" She saw the expression on Angie's face and decided she had gone far enough. "I made some tea,"

she said quietly. "Would you like a cup?"

Angie nodded and dropped down into one of the sling chairs. She huddled there with her chin on her chest and her bare feet curled under her, withdrawn and obviously miserable.

Carolyn brought her the tea and sat down across from her. For awhile they were both silent and Carolyn watched the girl's profile, waiting for her to speak. Finally she grew impatient. "Angie, where were you?" she said, quietly and with great calm.

Angie turned her head and glared at Carolyn. She was nervous and defensive, Carolyn saw, and it might be hours before they cracked the shell of her anger and got down to the truth.

She twisted her face into a smile and tried to sound light-hearted as she wished she felt. "Angie," she said, "I don't know about you but I'm sleepy. So let's get this over with and go to bed. I promise I won't get upset. Just tell me what happened."

Angie set her cup on the rug. "Why?"

She didn't have an answer for that one. She simply shrugged.

"Why?" Angie repeated.

"Well, why not?" Carolyn said. She heard the irritation in her voice and quickly tried to cover up. "Unless now you're afraid that I'm too young to know."

It sounded snide and she was sorry she had said it. She watched her attempt at humor fall flat on its face.

Angie sat up as grandly as she could in the awkward chair, her feet still under her. She raised her chin and prepared to speak.

Watching her, Carolyn imperceptibly let herself relax. Angie had obviously decided to play the scene for all the melodrama she could wring out of it. Which simply meant that nothing had really happened. When she had something worth hiding, she hid it well.

"I've been up on the roof," Angie said. 'Thinking. I had to be alone for awhile."

Carolyn decided to take her word for it. "What happened to Jimmy?"

"I sent him home hours ago." Angie lowered her head to look at Carolyn directly. "Carol," she said and she sounded almost breathless, "something happened tonight. Something real."

Carolyn's eyebrow went up. "So I gather," she said sarcastically.

Angie ignored her. "I've never been so… so moved," she said. She brought her fingers together like a child praying and rested her chin on their tips. "Carol, he's still in love with me. Can you imagine?"

Carolyn looked at the adorable face with its shining, happy eyes. She laughed then, but not for Angie to hear. "It does happen sometimes," she said gravely. "I think my parents still love each other and they've been married for almost forty years."

"But they're old, Carol. Parents are always like that. You don't see it often with young people."

Carolyn knew it was useless to tell Angie that her parents had been sixteen when they married. For to Angie, the thought of a parent having ever been sixteen was preposterous. Hers was a simple and blissfully illogical approach to life. She thrived on catastrophe and feared boredom worse than death, so that every instant was made intense and unique. She did not learn from experience. Indeed, she did not experience. She merely over-reacted.

"You're probably right," Carolyn said just to keep her talking. "I don't know much about it."

Angie's smile was complacent. "Well, I know," she said. "Jimmy's been in love with me for two years. And that's something."

"Who is he, anyway?" Carolyn asked. "You haven't mentioned him before, as far as I can remember."

Angie spread her hands on her thighs and smoothed her skirt. "Well, I told you I was engaged to a fellow right after I came to the States," she said. "His sister used to live in the same place I did. You know, the girls' club. He was the first boy I met here and we went out a lot and we got engaged."

"You and Jimmy?"

 

"Of course," Angie said impatiently. "What's the matter with Jimmy, may I ask?"

Carolyn started to say that he looked like a bull ape, but modified it quickly. "He doesn't look like your type, that's all." She shrugged. "I didn't think you liked them so aggressive."

Angie snorted. "I know what you're thinking. And he's not like that at all."

"He's no eunuch."

"I didn't say he was," Angie persisted. "He's—well, he's just nice, that's all. He never touched me."

Carolyn smiled ruefully. "Whose fault is that?" she asked quietly.

Angie jumped up from the chair and walked away from her angrily.

Finally she turned back and stood glowering down at Carolyn. "I hate you sometimes," she said. "You think all anybody's interested in is sex just because that's how you are. Well, let me tell you something. Jimmy's one of the nicest guys I've ever known and he still wants to marry me and I'm not sure I won't!"

Carolyn knew it would be unwise to hit back, to cut at Angie the way Angie was slicing at her. But her jealousy and her sense of loss were too much and she had to hurt her.

She looked up at Angie and said, very calmly, "What about me?"

Angie was silent just a second, then flared, "Well, what about you? It's got nothing to do with you."

"Oh? I think it does, Angie. I don't believe your Jimmy's the type to overlook the fact that you've been sleeping with a woman all these months. Especially since you wouldn't do the same for him." She paused, then added, "Why don't you ask him?"

Angie's face went gray. She sat down abruptly on the couch and stared blankly in front of her. "He hates queers,"

she muttered. "A fella made a pass at him once and he almost killed him."

"No doubt," Carolyn said.

She had nothing more to say. She had won for the moment, but she had no sense of triumph. She knew she had given Angie an even larger problem than she had had before.

Carolyn knew that Angie had never really been able to cope with the business of being gay. Her attitude towards life she had learned at her mother's knees and she cherished it lovingly. There was no room in "Mum's" code for happiness, only for sticking to the rules. A husband, a couple of kids, a little house, a little car. All the conventional things. Carolyn realized, as Angie did not, that the little conventional things would soon bore the girl right out of her mind. She had never been able to convince Angie of that. And, though Angie hadn't mentioned it for a long time, Carolyn knew that it bothered the girl that she was not playing the game according to Mum's rules. She thrived on Mum's approval. Carolyn's didn't matter a bit.

Looking at the girl, Carolyn sighed. Poor Angie! So confused. Not really wanting a man, revolted by sex and scared to death. But now she would have to know, would have to find out if a man could love her after… that.

Carolyn took the cups into the kitchen and left them in the sink. Then she went into the bedroom, chased Bridgit off the pillow and turned down the spread.

"Come on to bed," she called to Angie. "It's after three."

Angie appeared in the doorway.

"Well, come on."

Angie shook her head, "I only called him because I was upset this morning."

"Yes," Carolyn said, "I know that."

Angie lingered in the doorway. "Carol."

"Yes?"

"Thanks for the roses, honey."

Carolyn stopped undressing to look at her.

 

"They're beautiful,'' Angie whispered. "And so are you." Her eyes were warm and tender now. She had set Jimmy aside to think about later.

They got ready for bed without discussing the evening further.

Angie took off the new earrings and put them back in the pasteboard box. She looked at Carolyn fondly, then went to her and hugged her tight. Carolyn did not reach out to take the girl in her arms.

Angie stepped back and peered at her. "Are you still mad at me?" She sounded amazed.

Carolyn shook her head and turned away. "No, I'm not mad at you, Angie." She sighed. "I'm just not quite sure what's going on around here."

"Why?"

"Well," Carolyn began, "I know why you saw Jimmy tonight. And so far, we're even, I guess."

Angie laughed. "We're even."

"Good. Then there's no reason for you to see him again," she said confidently.

"I have to. Tomorrow night."

Carolyn was startled but she tried not to let Angie know it. She walked away to the windows and adjusted the curtain. "What for?"

Angie grinned triumphantly. "To tell him I won't marry him." She put out her hands to Carolyn. "I don't really love him. I never did."

'Then why—"

"But, Carol, he wants to marry me," Angie said, as though it explained everything.

Carolyn looked at her helplessly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You should know about that," Angie teased. She came up close to the girl. "Aren't you the one who told me men only want one thing?"

Carolyn shook her head. "Only some men, Angie," she said.

"Well, anyhow," Angie went on, "I think it's special when a man wants to marry you. It means a lot to a man to get married. And it makes you feel important when a man asks you to marry him."

"Angie," Carolyn said patiently, "I am willing to believe that Jimmy loves you, if you think so. But so do I, damn it.

And it means just as much to me to have you as it would mean to him. And you love me, not Jimmy. At least that's what you say. Doesn't that make any difference to you at all, Angie?"

Angie had grown restless and irritated with the whole discussion. She could never sustain in anything interest for long. She flopped down on the bed. "Of course it does, Carol. But after all, I want to have children someday and a home. That's what every woman wants. Even you. We can't live like this forever. We have to grow up and accept our responsibilities, our role in life."

Carolyn did not know what textbook Angie had been reading, but she kissed her goodnight before the girl could launch into a lecture on infantile sexuality. It was difficult to be so young, so uninformed.

Just as she was going to sleep, Angie crept close and whispered, "Carol?"

Carolyn mumbled, "Umm?"

"Carol, could a man tell?"

She opened her eyes and slowly sat up. "Tell what?"

"You know. About us."

She looked at Angie but did not speak until the urge to strangle her had passed. She did not understand how she could hate her and want her so, all at the same time. She didn't even try. She took the girl in her arms and slid one hand under the filmy gown and trailed her fingertips up the inside of Angie's thigh.

She kissed the tip of the girl's earlobe and whispered, "I'll try not to leave any scars."