“Wanted. Past tense,” Mona said, looking at Paula. “Besides, Beebo, I was wronged, not you. The least you could have done was let me explain. Now you don’t give a damn. Well, just know that I don’t either. I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from Paula. She needs somebody to count the sleeping pills for her.” She hooked her sweater on her index finger, and swung it over her shoulder with an air of satisfaction. Paula was distracted and Beebo was exasperated with Mona. This was Trouble and it exhilarated her.
“Is that what you came here to say?” Beebo demanded.
“That’s most of it,” Mona said. “It’s only fair to warn you, though…I may drop some more bricks before I’m through. You turn such a nice color when you’re burned, Beebo.” She sauntered deliberately through the hall, past Paula, who shrank from her, and to the front door, where she turned for one last shot.
Beebo had followed her and stood in the middle of the living room with her arms folded over her chest, the way she faced Pete when he crowded her.
Mona looked her over and then blew a poisonous kiss toward Paula. “I hope you two will be happy,” she said. “It’s obviously one of those marriages made in hell.” She pulled the door shut very slowly till Beebo reached over and gave it a hard shove to.
Mona thumped against it on the outside, laughing at the show of temper.
Beebo turned to Paula, mystified. “What in hell was all that about?” she said.
Paula was leaning against the wall, still pale and quite exhausted. “You’ve heard of jealousy,” she said tiredly.
“She had something more than that on her mind,” Beebo said. “She looked like she wanted blood. You can be jealous without being plain mean.”
“Mona can’t. That’s how she makes her life interesting. It’s funny. You think of a man being sadistic, coldhearted, capable of evil just for kicks. But when a woman’s that way, it shocks you. Mona just—enjoys it, I guess.”
“Enjoys tormenting people?” Beebo said. She had known people like that back in Juniper Hill, but it was hard to believe about someone you had so recently admired.
Paula nodded. “I think she came here tonight because she’s mad at Pete and she can’t find him to give him hell. Pete sent you over to bug Mona, and it worked. And you and I went right along with his game and fell for each other. Mona likes to think she’s a femme fatale, and I guess to Pete, she is. She jilted him once and he never got over it. She’s always telling me I’m a ‘goddamn milkmaid’ and nobody wants a milkmaid these days. She must have really wanted you, Beebo, or she wouldn’t have been so hurt to lose you.”
“Pete told me he dumped Mona when he found out she was a Lesbian,” Beebo frowned.
“He’s lying, as usual. He only falls for gay girls,” Paula said. She had gone to Beebo’s side and put her arms around her for consolation. Beebo, reviewing Pete’s behavior toward her in a new light, felt faintly nauseated. “And I thought he was just trying to get my goat,” she said, returning Paula’s embrace.
“Darling,” Paula said, and Beebo thought how much warmer and truer the word was when Paula spoke it than when it bloomed on Venus’s perfect lips like a gaudy rose.
“Beebo, I want to explain—about myself—” Paula said haltingly.
“You don’t have to, I understand.”
“No, you don’t. I didn’t myself. Beebo, I’ve always been such a steady, sensible girl. Even when I discovered I was gay, I didn’t go all to pieces like so many kids. It shook me up, yes, but I did the reasonable thing. I went out and learned all I could about it. I’d never had special prejudices against other people’s problems, and I hadn’t any against my own.
“I tried to accept the fact, and after a while I got used to it. But all the time I was waiting for somebody wonderful to come along; for a beautiful love affair to make it all right. We’d live quietly together, we’d cherish each other, and life would be rosy.
“I didn’t think it would be simple, but I thought it would be satisfying—and permanent. That’s the kind of girl I am, Beebo.
“I found other girls while I was waiting so trustingly for this perfect love,” she said, speaking with the disillusioned realism of hindsight. “And they taught me a lot. I thought this was necessary. You have to know the different kinds of love before you can recognize the kind you need. I met Mona during this period. She’s mean as an old crow, but she’s sharp and I learned a lot from her.
“And then the girl in the plaid pajamas came along. It wasn’t beautiful, Beebo. Nothing I had learned before prepared me for what I went through.
“I lost my self-respect…my ideals. My efforts to please her rubbed her the wrong way. I did everything I thought would draw us close, even when it seemed like madness. I moved to the Village, I went with her fast crowd, I quit my job. I drank too much and played too hard, for fear if I didn’t she’d think I was square. I did things that were downright degrading.”
Beebo embraced her tightly. “Honey, you’re the sweetest girl I ever knew,” she said. “I won’t believe anything bad about you.” She guided her back to the bedroom.
“What I want you to know is,” Paula whispered, lying down on the bed, “that I’m not a kook. I don’t usually fly off the handle emotionally. I never did it before my affair with the girl in the pajamas. I live an orderly life, I work hard, I care about people. Only, Beebo, you just couldn’t have happened. You walked in here asking for Mona last night—was it only last night!—and I realized that all I’d suffered before was the dark before the dawn. Maybe it
