CHAPTER 5

Carolyn found a parking spot on Amsterdam Avenue and cut through a vacant lot to the house. Looking up at the windows, she saw that the lights were on and Bridgit perched asleep on the livingroom sill.

She started to take out her keys, then, remembering Jimmy, rang the bell instead. There was a limit to how much she could take.

Angie had the door open and was waiting in the hall when the elevator reached the tenth floor. She smiled a warm hello, then puckered for a kiss. Carolyn ignored her and charged on inside. Angie shrugged and followed.

Except for Bridgit, the apartment was empty. Carolyn felt like a fool. She knew that Angie had spent several hours with Jimmy, knew that the girl had been unfaithful to her. Less than an horn ago she had been angry enough to strangle her. Yet now as she turned to face her, Angie was a dream in a ruffled apron, all smiles and charm, playing house.

Carolyn walked past Angie and into the kitchen. She stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the mess Something was baking, she couldn't tell what. Every pot the house was dirty and most of the silver.

"I'm making a cake," Angie said cheerfully.

It was the last straw. Carolyn refused to lose her temper. She had to find out just how far Angie thought she could go. She turned on the hot water and let it run into the dishpan.

"Well, aren't you pleased?" Angie said impatiently. "It's chocolate, the kind you like. I meant it for our anniversary."

"Our anniversary was yesterday," Carolyn said bitterly.

"I didn't have time yesterday."

Carolyn glanced at her and laughed harshly. "Busy little bee, aren't you?"

Angie stamped her foot and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute!" Carolyn said and the tone of her voice stopped Angie in mid-stride. She handed the girl a towel.

"You dry."

She felt Angie eying her curiously and remained coldly aloof. She was not sure what she intended to say to the girl, but whatever it was, both of them knew Angie wasn't going to like it. Once, when Angie's back was toward her for a moment, Carolyn glanced quickly and saw the slump of the shoulders, the lowered head. She felt a tremor of satisfaction. As long as Angie was scared, Carolyn knew she had the advantage.

When they were finished, she said simply, "Angie, I want to talk to you."

"Can't it wait till later?" Angie said. "I have to wash my hair."

Carolyn took her hand and led her into the livingroom. "Now, Angie. Right this minute." She sat the girl down in a chair.

Angie pouted and swung her legs over the side of the chair, turning her face away from Carolyn. She looked sullen and withdrawn.

Carolyn sighed. She wanted to kick Angie's teeth in, to shake her till her brains rattled. But what was the use? She knew Angie would only laugh in her face. She walked around Angie to the windowsill and put her hand on Bridgit's head. The cat began to purr.

"When the Times comes out tonight, we'll find you a room," she began. "It won't be so bad, Angie. Maybe you can share a place with another girl. Like you used to at the club."

Angie merely stared past her.

She was not sure that the girl had heard. She tried again. "I'll help you out for awhile, till you're settled financially."

She waited. "I can't see any other way," she said.

She waited again. "Angie?"

"I don't need your money, Carol," Angie said. Her voice was hard and tight.

 

Carolyn flushed guiltily. "I didn't mean that, Angie. I only meant, since you haven't got any saved—"

"What the hell do you care how much money I have? You're throwing me out, aren't you?" Her voice was as nasty now as her expression.

Carolyn picked up Bridgit and sat on the couch with the cat in her lap. She stroked its ears gently and felt the purring against her thighs.

Angie watched her narrowly.

"I'm not throwing you out, Angie," Carolyn said patiently. "I just can't live with you anymore. You're driving me crazy."

Angie laughed, a hard, coarse sound. "Funny, you only think so when you're angry. You didn't feel that way last night in bed."

"How do you know what I felt last night?" Carolyn blurted. Then she calmed down before Angie could snap back at her. "Look, we've been through this a thousand times. I can't stand the way you manipulate me, the things you do.

I feel like a damned fool for putting up with you."

"But, Carol," Angie said, her voice trembling with hurt innocence, "what have I done?"

"How the hell should I know?" Carolyn almost screamed. "I don't know what you're doing half the time, Angie. And it doesn't do me a damn bit of good to ask, because I don't believe a word you tell me anyhow."

"Carol!" Angie sounded sorely misunderstood.

Carolyn felt instantly the twinge of guilt that Angie meant her to feel. She could no longer tell if it was sincere.

"When have I lied to you?" Angie persisted.

"I didn't say you lied to me," Carolyn said with exasperation. She felt the advantage shifting to Angie's side and hurried to make up ground. "I simply meant that I don't know where I stand with you. I have the feeling that what you say and what you think are two totally different things. You say you love me, but—" She gestured helplessly.

Angie bit her lips and prepared to cry.

Carolyn was instantly on the defensive. "Oh, no," she said quickly. "If you cry, Angie, so help me, I’ll knock your head off."

The girl opened her mouth to speak and her lip trembled uncertainly.

Carolyn started to get up and Bridgit dug her claws in to hang on.

"What do you expect?" Angie wailed at her. "You tell me you hate me and then you call me a liar. What do you expect?"

Carolyn dropped Bridgit to the floor and crossed to Angie's side in two strides. She hovered over her threateningly, her hands clenched at her sides.

Angie put up her arms to shield her head and cowered in the chair.

For an instant Carolyn wanted to slap her. But she knew it would be a waste of effort. She stooped beside Angie and took the girl's hands and held them between her own. "Angie, stop it," she said quietly. "You know I won't hit you."

"You have."

"All right, I have," she said desperately. She stood up and backed away from the chair. "Angie, look at me, dammit.

I'm not even near you now."

Angie obeyed quickly. Too quickly. Carolyn felt like a fat mouse between the paws of a hungry cat. She became suddenly wary and felt herself withdrawing from the battle. She knew she didn't stand a chance when Angie got wily.

"I have to turn off the oven," Angie said. She looked up at Carolyn as though waiting for permission.

Carolyn waved her off, glad for the distraction. "Go ahead," she said lightly. "Would you like a drink?"

Angie shook her head no and went out to the kitchen, humming to herself.

 

Carolyn listened to Angie hum and sighed. She poured herself a double shot of scotch and stood by the windows, looking out, the shot glass between her palms. She felt bleak and isolated inside, heartsick with the insights she was gaining into Angie and with her own lust to get even. She hated Angie and despised herself. Yet she could not let it go. She needed to find out the truth about the girl and punish them both with it.

She remembered what Walter had said about Angie requiring help. Perhaps he was right. There was something almost terrifying about Angie's need to manipulate and control. The need was a blind one. She knew that Angie could not be defeated with talk, for the simple reason that Angie never listened. And she knew that, before she could free herself from the girl, she would have to find another way to stop her.

She considered for a moment attacking Angie with a few of her own tricks. She had slapped Angie once and she had been ashamed. Yet it had gotten more of a response from the girl than anything she had ever said. Angie was well versed in the ways of violence. Still, Carolyn could not really see herself throwing a tantrum. She had never done so in her life.

But if she could make the girl trap herself… She knew that Angie lied so consistently that she couldn't keep track of her own stories. She had often trapped her in a falsehood, only to have Angie lie herself out of the lie. Neither of them knew what was truth anymore.

But if she were clever enough, she might just be able to force Angie to tell her what had happened, without the girl being aware she had done so. And if the truth was what she thought, if Angie were really having an affair with Jimmy, then, she believed, she had good reason to tell the girl to leave. Anything else she could put up with. But she would not share the girl.

Angie came back from the kitchen smiling, the kind of a smile called brave. When Carolyn turned to look at her, she thought that Angie must be losing her touch, her technique had become so obvious. Or maybe it was just that she herself was getting wise to the game.

Carolyn took a deep breath. She knew Angie would be difficult, but this time she felt that she could outsmart her.

"All right," she said, "we'll start over. Were you with Jimmy tonight?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"About two hours."

Carolyn recalculated for herself and decided to accept the girl's answer. "All right. Now, what was that stupid call you made to my mother?"

"Oh, that," Angie said carelessly, as though she had forgotten. "Is that all that's wrong?"

"No, but it'll do for a start."

"Well, at the time, I wanted you to stay out late. I wanted to be with Jimmy."

"And you thought I'd believe you," Carolyn said flatly.

"Why not?" Angie sounded genuinely surprised. "I've never lied to you."

Carolyn let it pass. "Go on."

"Well, I changed my mind."

"Ah!" Carolyn said triumphantly. "The plot thickens." She knew she was being deliberately nasty, but she watched Angie backing herself into a corner and it gave her a perverse pleasure. "And why did you change your mind?"

"Well, when I thought about it, it didn't seem like a good idea."

"Why, Angie?" She sat her glass on the sill beside her and folded her hands across her stomach.

"I got scared."

"Of what?"

"Well," Angie shrugged, "I've never been to bed with a man before. You know that. And I got scared that it would hurt or I might get pregnant or something."

Carolyn nodded. Her expression was grave. "It must have been pretty rough on you," she said and her tone was full of honey-coated sympathy. She took a step forward. "I hope he didn't try anything."

 

Angie frowned and let her shoulders droop forward. She looked like an old-time movie heroine at the end of a chapter. "Well," she said, "he tried, but I stopped him."

"What did you say, Angie?"

"Well, I told him I'd changed my mind, that's all. That I wasn't ready yet." She sounded inordinately pleased with herself. "He got mad and left."

Carolyn nodded. "I don't blame him," she said. "Women have been raped for less." She reached around Angie to the light switch and the room was suddenly dark. "You must have been terribly disappointed, darling. But it's not his fault. He just doesn't know you."

Angie started to back away from the tone in Carolyn's voice. "What are you talking about, Carol? You knew I wouldn't let him."

"You'd better shut up, Angie, before you get all confused."

"Carol, I love you," Angie pleaded. "Carol?"

With one hand, Carolyn forced Angie backward till the girl's shoulders were against the wall. Then she slapped her, just once, very hard. "That's for lying to me, Angie."

"No, no," Angie cried. "I didn't."

Carolyn hit her again. "And that's for making a fool of me in my own bed."

"I didn't, I didn't." She put her hands up to shield her face. "I swear I didn't."

Carolyn laughed. "And you still expect me to believe you?" She laughed again and it sounded even to her almost hysterical. She grabbed Angie by the forearms and slammed her again and again into the wall. She wanted to kill the girl.

Finally, Angie screamed and lashed out at Carolyn with her fists. "I hate you, I hate you," she screamed.

Carolyn struggled desperately to hold onto the girl's arms and Angie kicked her in the shin. Suddenly Bridgit appeared from under the couch and scooted between them. The tip of her tail touched Angie's leg and the girl screeched. Without hesitation, Carolyn stuck out her foot and sent Angie flying.

Carolyn followed her down to the floor.

"I hate you," Angie repeated. She was crying now.

"I hate you too," Carolyn said.

Angie stretched out her arms.

"Damn you," Carolyn whispered hoarsely and she realized her own cheeks were wet with tears. She moved into Angie's arms and kissed her hard, forcing her tongue deep into the girl's mouth and deliberately smashing her lips against her teeth. She needed to hurt her, to rip her to pieces. And she needed to make love to Angie—not because she wanted her—but because she hated herself.

She tore at the girl with her hands and pulled the clothes off her and bit her breasts. Once Angie tried to push her away. Then she lay back calmly and sighed.

Carolyn felt brutal and crude. When she heard Angie's sigh of resignation and felt her relax, she knew it was no use.

Angie was humoring her as she always did. She kissed the girl again, without desire, and held her.

Angie took Carolyn's hand and pressed it against her own breast. "Honey, love me," she whispered. Her tone was pleading.

Carolyn buried her face against Angie's shoulder so the girl could not see the pain in her eyes. She slid her hand across Angie's belly and over her thigh.

She made love to her then, gently, slowly, the way Angie liked. Angie made little moaning sounds like a soul in torment. Carolyn felt the girl shudder and lie still. She rolled away from her.

"Honey?" Angie said.

Carolyn didn't answer.

Angie reached out to touch her and Carolyn grabbed her wrist.

 

"Huh uh," Carolyn said. She stood up abruptly and walked away from the girl. She went into the bathroom and locked the door.

Bridgit crouched in her pan under the sink, waiting for the excitement to subside. She stretched her head out over the edge and peered at Carolyn searchingly. When she got no response, she retreated and rubbed the back of her neck against the plastic rim.

It was too humid and stuffy in the little room for a hot shower. But Carolyn stepped in anyway and let the steaming water trickle through her hair and over her shoulders. It didn't help at all. She knew that she was finished with Angie for good this time, that she had finally had enough. Yet she still had a problem and it was a big one. She did not know how to convince Angie that she meant it and, until she did, the girl would give her no peace.

She dried herself slowly in front of the mirror, rubbing the rough towel fiercely all over her body and feeling suddenly alive and wanting in every pore of her being. When she rejected Angie, she had felt no desire. Now she felt a craving that was something apart from love, apart even from sense. Cupping her hands along her body, she felt a shiver of need go through her that gripped at her stomach and left her weak. She knew she could not go back to the girl now and beg. Yet she wanted a woman desperately.

She went into the bedroom and began very calmly to dress. She put on a pair of cotton slacks and a starched white shirt. Then she combed her damp hair into a soft wave. She was a little too broad in the beam for slacks, really, but nobody would notice that where she was going. And besides, she wanted to look "butch" tonight. That was the way she felt.

Angie was still lying on the living room floor waiting for her. She looked up at Carolyn and made a sour face. "I hope you're proud of yourself," she said.

Carolyn paused for an instant on her way to the door. "I am," she said. "And, Angie, don't wait up for me."

Angie sat up. Her face was very pale in the dim light. "Why?" she asked. "Where are you going?"

"Out to get laid," Carolyn said and slammed the door behind her.