Women In The Shadow. Ann Bannon

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СКАЧАТЬ kept hands off since the party and her talk with Jack. There had been no begging, no shouting, no furious tears. Now she felt she deserved tenderness and she knelt down and took Laura’s chin in her hand and kissed her mouth.

      “I love you,” she said almost shyly.

      And Laura, who wanted only to leave her, not to hurt her, lowered her eyes and looked away. She could not say it anymore. I love you, Beebo. It wasn’t true. And Beebo knew it and the knowledge almost killed her, and yet she didn’t insist. “Laura,” she said humbly. “Kiss me.”

      And Laura did. And in a little wave of compassion she said into Beebo’s ear, “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

      Beebo took it the wrong way, the way that hurt her least. She took it to mean that Laura was apologizing and wanted her love again. But Laura meant only that Beebo had been dear to her once and that it was awful to see her so unhappy. “It’s my fault,” she said. “Only—”

      “Only nothing,” Beebo said quickly. “Don’t say it. Say sweet things to me.”

      “Oh, Beebo, I can’t. Don’t ask me. I’ve forgotten the sweet things.” Suddenly she felt like crying. She had never meant to wound Beebo. She had had the best intentions of loving her faithfully for the rest of her life. And yet now every pretty face she saw on the streets caught her eye, every new set of eyes or curving lips at the lunch counter.

      Laura was afraid and ashamed. She had always protested hotly when somebody accused Lesbians of promiscuity. And yet here she was refuting her own argument, at least in her thoughts and desires. It was still true that in the whole time they had lived together, she had never betrayed Beebo with another woman.

      Knowing how Beebo felt only made Laura’s conscience worse. It made her resentful and gentle by fits. Either way it was nerve-wracking and left her exhausted.

      Suddenly Beebo picked her up and put her on the bed. She sat down beside her and slipped her arms around her and began to kiss her with a yearning that gradually brought little darts of desire to Laura. She didn’t want it until it happened. And then, inexplicably, she did. It was good, very good. And she heard Beebo whisper, “Oh, if it could always be like this. Laura, Laura, love me. Love me!”

      Laura turned her head away and shut her eyes and tried not to hear the words. Gradually the world faded out of her consciousness and there was only the ritual rhythm, the wonderful press of Beebo’s body against hers. It hadn’t been like this for Laura for months, and she was both grateful and annoyed.

      Beebo made wonderful love. She knew how, she did it naturally, as other people eat or walk. Her hands flowed over Laura like fine silk in the wind, her lips bit and teased and murmured, all with a knowing touch that amounted to witchery. In the early days of their love Laura had not been able to resist her, and Beebo had loved her lavishly.

      Often Laura had felt an ache for those days, when everything was sure and safe and certain in the fortress of passion. She had taken passion for love itself, and she had been secure in Beebo’s warm arms. Now it seemed that Beebo had been just a harbor where she could rest and renew herself at a time when her life was most shattered and unhappy. She didn’t need the safe harbor now. She was grateful, but she needed to move on. It was time to face life again and fight again and feel alive again. For Beebo the time of searching was over. It ended when she met Laura.

      She had a small ten-watt bulb in a little bedstand lamp that shed a peachy glow around them, and she always had it on when they went to bed. Laura had loved it at first, when just the sight of Beebo’s big firm body and marvelous limbs would set her trembling. But later, when she was afraid her slackening interest would show in her face, she asked Beebo to turn it out. It had been one more in a series of harsh arguments, for Beebo had known what prompted her request.

      Now they lay beside one another, their hearts slipping back into a normal rhythm, their bodies limp and relaxed. Laura wanted only to sleep; she dreaded long intimate talks with Beebo. But Beebo wanted reassurance. She wanted Laura’s soft voice in her ears.

      “Talk to me, Bo-peep,” Beebo said.

      “Too sleepy,” Laura murmured, yawning.

      “What did you do today?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Shall I tell you what I did?”

      “No.”

      “I got a new shirt at Davis’s,” Beebo said, ignoring her. “Blue with little checks. And guess who rode in my elevator today?”

      Laura didn’t answer.

      “Ed Sullivan,” Beebo said. “He had to see one of the ad agency people on the eighth floor.” Still no response. “Looks just like he does on TV,” Beebo said.

      Laura rolled over on her side and pulled the covers up over her ears. For some moments Beebo remained quiet and then she said softly, “You’ve been calling me ‘Beth’ again.”

      Laura woke up suddenly and completely. Beth … the name, the girl, the love that wound through her life like a theme. The tender first love that was born in her college days and died with them less than a year later. The love she never could forget or forgive or wholly renounce. She had called Beebo “Beth” when they first met, and now and then when passion got the best of her, or whiskey, or nostalgia, Beth’s name would come to her lips like an old song. Beebo had grown to hate it. It was the only rival she knew for certain she had and it put her in the unreasonable position of being helplessly jealous of a girl she didn’t know and never would. Whenever she mentioned her, Laura knew there was a storm coming.

      “If I could only see that goddamn girl sometime and know what I was up against!” she would shout, and Laura would have to pacify her one way or another. She would have to protest that after all, it was all over, Beth was married, and Beth had never even loved her. Not really. But when Laura grew the most unhappy with Beebo, the most restless and frustrated, she would start to call her Beth again when they made love. So Beebo feared the name as much as she disliked it. It was an evil omen in her life, as it was a love theme in Laura’s.

      Laura turned back to face Beebo now, nervous and tensed for a fight. “Beebo, darling—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

      “Sure, I know. Darling.” She lampooned Laura’s soothing love word sarcastically. “You just pick that name out of a hat. For some screwy reason it just happens to be the same name all the time.”

      “If you’re going to be like that I won’t apologize next time.”

      “Next time! Are you planning on next time already? God!”

      “Beebo, you know that’s all over—”

      “I swear, Laura, sometimes I think you must have a girl somewhere.” Laura gasped indignantly, but Beebo went on, “I do! You talk about Beth, Beth, Beth so much I’m beginning to think she’s real. She’s my demon. She lives around the corner on Seventh Avenue somewhere and you sneak off and see her in the evenings when I work late and her husband is out.” Her voice was sharp and probing, like a needle in the hands of a nervous nurse.

      “Beebo, I’ve never betrayed you! Never!”

      Beebo didn’t really believe she had. But Laura had hurt her enough without betraying her and Beebo, who was not blind, could see that Laura would not go СКАЧАТЬ