“Any time is a bad time in this little love nest,” Beebo said. She thumbed at Laura. “We hate each other,” she explained. “We only live together so we can fight.”
“Oh.” Tris looked uncomfortable.
Beebo grinned at the two girls, pleased to have embarrassed them both, her mind simmering with suspicions. Laura, stony-faced, refused to say anything to Tris to put her at ease. She was furious with her for coming in the first place.
“What’s your name, honey?” Beebo said to Tris. ”I’ve forgotten.”
“Tris Robischon.”
“Didn’t you say you were Indian or something?”
“Yes.”
Beebo laughed and shook her head. “Yeah…,” she said. “Indian.”
Tris began to squirm under her gaze. She was no longer so pleased to be looked at as she had been when she entered. Beebo stared so hard, in fact, that Tris finally said coldly, “Perhaps you object to dark skins.”
“So what if I do?” Beebo said casually, grinning.
Tris gasped. “Some people,” she said sharply, “think all non-whites are inferior. Perhaps you are one of those?”
“Now what gives you a dumb idea like that?” Beebo said. “Do I look unfriendly?”
“You stare at me as if I were not welcome.”
“I stare at you as if you were a damn pretty girl. Which you are. You’re also too sensitive, but you’re welcome. I like that color.” She waved at Tris’s shapely legs, crossed at the knees and poised on high-heeled shoes. “On you it looks good.” And she grinned. There was an awkward pause and Laura saw, with great irritation, that Tris was simply returning Beebo’s gaze now, bashfully but rather eagerly.
“Have some coffee, Tris?” Laura said.
“Yes, please.” Tris looked at her swiftly, as if she knew Laura didn’t like her interest in Beebo.
“What do you do with yourself all day, Tris?” Beebo said. Laura was afraid of the way her voice sounded now.
“I dance.”
“Where?”
“My studio. I teach.”
“That all?”
“I—I have done professional work.”
They talked for a few minutes until Laura brought the coffee in. She gave Tris a cup and placed one in front of Beebo. But Beebo reached out and collared her with one long arm and pulled her down on the couch beside her.
“Let go!” Laura snapped, but Beebo only held her harder.
“So you…just ran into Laura in the Hobby Shop,” Beebo said to Tris. “Fancy that.” She smiled a dangerous smile.
“Yes. It’s not so surprising. I mean I—I live so close by.” Laura felt her fear rising in her throat and sweat bursting from her and she was desperately impatient to get rid of Tris.
“You know something, little Indian girl?” Beebo said.
“What?”
“I don’t believe you.”
The atmosphere became tense and ominous. “I apologize for her, Tris,” Laura said with a show of casualness. “She doesn’t believe anything.”
“Now tell me, Tris,” Beebo said, ignoring her, “how did you and Laura really meet?”
Tris looked squarely at her and said, “You know how. I have told the truth.” She lied very gracefully. Laura wondered how many lies she had been fed herself. “But I see I am not welcome here,” Tris went on. She stood up and replaced her coffee cup carefully in the saucer on the table. “Thank you for the coffee,” she said regally and headed for the front door.
Beebo sprang up from the couch suddenly and Laura, frightened, followed her with almost the same movement. Beebo caught Tris at the door and turned her around and without even a pause for breath kissed her harshly on the mouth. It was a long and physically painful kiss, and Laura’s furious exclamations did nothing to help. She pounded ineffectually on Beebo’s back. “Beebo, stop it!” she cried.
But Beebo stopped in her own good time, and that was not until she had bruised Tris’s mouth enough to make her cry.
She cried softly, without a sound, her eyes shut and her head back against the door, still lifted toward Beebo.
Laura was shaken. “Tris—Tris—” she said, trying to get near her, but Beebo shouldered her out of the way.
“That’s for being such a good friend of Laura’s,” Beebo said. “And that’s all you get, too, my little Indian. Now get the hell out and don’t come back.”
“Beebo, please!” Laura felt her own angry tears start up, and it was unbearable to have Tris turn and leave so quickly, so quietly, without giving her a gesture of comfort or apology. “Tris, I’m so sorry!” she called after her, but it sounded trite and insincere.
Beebo shut the door and stood for a moment with her back to Laura. Laura, shaking, moved away from her.
“Where did you meet her?” Beebo asked, still not looking at her. “Tell the truth, Laura.”
“At work.”
Beebo whirled around. “How long are you going to lie to me!” she said.
“This is the last time!” Laura exploded, throwing her caution out with her patience. “I’m leaving you, Beebo. I’ve had it. You make me sick. You’re ruining my life. I’m so damn scared and so damn miserable that nothing is any fun, nothing helps. Life isn’t worth living, not like this!”
“Where did you meet her?” Beebo said, with single-minded jealous fury.
“I went to her apartment!” Laura blazed at her. “I went back for her card and I went to her apartment.”
“And made love to her.”
“No!” She shouted it angrily at first, but then she repeated it, frightened, “No, Beebo! I swear!”
But Beebo came across the room in one sudden leap of rage and threw her down hard on the floor, her big hands on Laura’s slim shoulders, holding her cruelly and banging her head down again and again until Laura screamed with pan and terror. And then Beebo dropped her and slapped her and all the time she kept repeating like a mad woman, “You made love to her, love to her. Where’s that key? The key, damn it!”
“I’ll give it to you,” Laura sobbed at last. “Oh, God, Beebo, don’t kill me! I’ll give it to you.”
Beebo let her up then,
