Then she came and sat in silence on the edge of the bed and looked at Laura for a while, until Laura, who was restraining herself tightly, saw that Tris was crying. And the crying became suddenly audible and made Tris cover her face with her hands. Laura lay beside her, refusing to touch her, feeling her spite and misery soften a little, feeling even a shade of pity. She wanted to beat the girl and at the same time stroke her shaking shoulders.
Tris turned her back to Laura and finally spoke with considerable effort. “I’m going out on the Island tomorrow,” she said. “For two weeks, a vacation. Come with me.”
Laura stared at her back, frowning in disbelief. “What?” she said.
“I want you to come with me,” Tris whispered. Her voice sounded, as once before, quite American.
“You must enjoy torturing me,” Laura said.
There was a long pause while Tris snatched a piece of face tissue from a box by the bed and blew her nose. Finally she said, “It was torture for me, too. But still, it was inexcusable, what I did to you. I was a beast. I—I can’t talk about it,” and she gave a quick sob. “But I promise it will never happen again—if you promise never to mention it.. Promise?” And she turned and looked at Laura.
“Why did you do it?” Laura asked.
“I had to! I had to! I wanted to hurt you—last night—you made me feel—” and her speech was clipped again and careful—“you made me want you so much, Laura. And I hate it! I hate it!” She was almost shrieking.
“Why?” Laura asked.
“Because I’m not really a Lesbian. Not like you. It’s men I love, Laura. Really,” she added desperately.
And Laura felt compassion for her. “You’re sick, Tris,” she said, but she said it kindly.
“Sick?” And Tris went a strange ashy color that scared Laura. “How do you mean?”
Laura realized then that she couldn’t destroy Tris’s illusion without destroying Tris. She raised herself to one elbow and brushed away the tears on Tris’s cheek. “Let’s put it this way,” she said. “If you feel like this about me, we shouldn’t be together anymore. In two weeks we’d drive each other wild. I know you feel terrible about last night, Tris, I can see it. I know I can’t forget you, or forgive what you did. If we were living together, I’d want you and you’d hate me for it. And pretty soon I’d hate you too, for denying me.”
“I won’t deny you, Laura,” Tris whispered, without looking at her. “I promise you. If you’d just let me do it my way. Don’t let it be like last night. When I feel as if I’m losing control, it’s as if I were drowning, as if I were losing my sanity along with my will. It’s as if—if I let it happen—I—I’ll lose my mind.” She spoke so painfully, with such evident anxiety, that Laura was touched.
“Poor Tris,” she murmured, and smoothed her hair. “I thought I’d be pulling your hair out this morning, not playing with it,” she said, running her long fingers over the sleek black braid.
“Come with me,” Tris pleaded. “Let me make it up to you.”
“Where are you going? Fire Island?”
“God, no!” Tris flared. “That place! It’s crawling with queers. I wouldn’t go near it.”
“Tris…,” Laura said, a little hesitantly. Her ear did not betray her. Tris’s accent fluctuated strangely and roused her curiosity. She asked cautiously, “What part of India do you come from?”
“Why do you ask?” And Tris’s eyes narrowed.
Laura lifted her shoulders casually. “You never told me.”
“I said New Delhi.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Besides, it has nothing to do with the vacation. I’m going to a place on Long Island. Stone Harbor. It’s not far from Montauk, on the north side. I have a cottage there for two weeks. It’s very secluded. No one will bother us. I was there last year and it’s really lovely. You’d like it, Laura, I know you would. You can swim every day—we’re only two blocks from the beach and—”
“Tris?” Laura stopped the almost compulsive flow of speech and startled the dancer.
“Yes?”
“Why won’t you tell me about India?”
“You wouldn’t be interested.”
“I’d be fascinated. Everything about you fascinates me. For instance, what are you doing in this country?”
“Dancing.”
“Where are your parents?”
“Dead.”
“How did you get here?”
“Scholarship.”
“Are you a citizen?”
“Laura, stop it! Why do you ask me such things? What has this to do with our vacation? I refuse to be quizzed like a criminal. We’ll leave tomorrow at eight. Can you be packed by then? I’ve rented a car.”
“I can’t even get into my own apartment,” Laura admitted. “You fixed me up just fine.”
“Of course you can. Call the police.” Her odd green eyes flashed.
“No. Maybe Jack could get my things. I’ll call him.”
“Who’s Jack?”
“Jack? He’s a—sort of—fiancé. A permanent fiancé.” She smiled slightly.
Tris snorted. “Does he know you are gay?”
“Of course.” She would tell her no more, If Tris were going to seal her private life behind a wall of secrets, Laura could play it that way, too. “Can I use your phone?” she asked.
“Yes. In the kitchen.” Tris followed her across the empty studio into the sunny blue and yellow kitchen and while Laura was dialing she asked, “You will come, of course?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” Laura said. “…Jack?”
“Good morning, Mother.”
“Jack, I wonder if you could—if you’d mind going over to the apartment and getting my clothes. Do you think you could? I hate to ask you, but I don’t dare go near her.”
“Sure,” he said. “Did you pass your test?”
“My test? Oh.” She glanced at Tris. “I—I flunked,” she said and felt a tidal wave of pity and shame all at once. “Jack—I’m sorry. Oh, I’m so sorry. Let me come over—”
“Come get your clothes at five,” he said. “I’ll leave the door open.”
