Nina’s letters came in oversized envelopes with the name of her publisher in the corner, and Beth read each one avidly. She knew dimly that although Nina Spicer was gay there was very little else they had in common. That became clear from her letters. But Nina had become intrigued with her and Beth was grateful for the interest. It was a bridge into another world where she longed hopelessly to be, and it comforted her.
The thought began to grow in Beth that the only way out of her depression was to go back to Chicago and search for Laura. Charlie would refuse, of course, and he’d fight it all the way, but she had to get out, shed her present life, try to find herself in a new environment with new people.
Chicago…it sounded beautiful, romantic as a foreign port to her, for the first time in her life. She had grown up there, she knew her way around. But it had never appeared as anything but huge and dirty and familiar, with sporadic excitements available.
Laura had grown up there, too. And suddenly Beth knew that she had to get to Chicago. She would go if it meant a divorce; even if it meant giving up her children. No sacrifice seemed out of line to her. Uncle John would take her in. She could always feed him stories and hide the truth from him. The idea of actually seeing Laura again awakened a trembling hope in her that came very near, at her best moments, to being happiness.
She spent three days trying to figure out a good way to broach the subject. Nothing had changed between herself and Charlie. He spoke to her when necessary and he spent the nights on his side of the bed, never touching her except by accident. His silent suffering both touched and exasperated her, like Vega’s. Mostly it made her mad.
There was a secret woman in Beth, a woman capable of a wonderful and curious love for other women, and she wanted to dominate Beth. But, tragically for Charlie and her family, this tormented woman could not feel more for a man than a sort of friendly respect. If that was spurned she had nothing else to offer. And Charlie wanted passionate love and devotion, not a buddy who was more woman-oriented than he was. It all came out in a single bright and anguished explosion. Beth had cast about for a way to explain herself to him; a hopeless job before it was begun, for she could not begin to understand herself. And when she saw the futility of it, she gave up and recklessly threw the whole range of her misery before him, like a picture on a screen.
She waited until the children were in bed and Charlie was watching the TV in the living room. She came in and sat down in a chair facing him. He was stretched out on the couch with his head on a hill of pillows, looking intently at the glowing screen in hopes of forgetting his problems for a little while.
“Charlie?” she said, and because she had not approached him for any reason for several weeks he turned his head looked at her with surprise.
“What?” he said.
Beth swallowed once, to be sure her voice would come out clear and determined. “I’m going to go home. To Chicago.”
He stared at her briefly and then turned unseeing eyes back to the set. “I doubt it,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to leave Vega that long.”
“Vega can go to hell. She’s driving me crazy,” Beth confessed. He already believed the truth, although he had no proof of it. So why in God’s name am I pretending? she thought defiantly. Suddenly it seemed easier and even cleaner to be frank.
“Don’t tell me the great romance is fading?” he said, still not looking at her.
She gazed at his face she had once so loved and she wished, for the sake of that decaying love, that he would be kind, that he would say things that would not make her hate him.
“The great romance never existed,” she said.
“If you’re trying to tell me it was all platonic, don’t bother,” he said.
“I’m trying to tell you I’m not in love with Vega Purvis,” she blurted. “I never was.”
“That’s funny!” said Charlie. “I got the other impression.”
“Well, I thought I was in love with her,” she said awkwardly, thinking, hoping the confession would unburden her at the same time that it destroyed Vega’s worst weapon against her. But suddenly the words were ugly and hard to shape and she wished she had simply told him she was going away and left it at that.
“I—I thought I loved her the night I took her the whiskey, at the Knickerbocker. And I discovered that I didn’t. That’s all.”
“After a little mutual exploration?” His voice was sarcastic. “Shall I send you a gold plaque in honor of your extramarital affairs?”
She stood up and stamped her foot and started to speak, but he added quickly, “And don’t talk to me the way you talk to your children. I’ll take you up and beat the hell out of you, I swear I will. For their sakes.”
“Charlie, I’m going to Chicago!” she said flatly, finally.
“You’re not going to run out on this, Beth. You have a responsibility to me and the kids. Nobody held a gun to your head when we got married. Why, you weren’t even pregnant. You married me because you wanted to marry me, and by God, you’re still married to me. And you’re going to stay married to me until you grow up and learn to face your responsibilities.”
“Charlie,” she said, suddenly earnest and almost scared, “I can’t stand this anymore.”
“Can’t stand what? No lovers? None of your lady friends suits you?”
For a second
