Beebo was nonplused. She kissed Paula’s white throat, holding her and frowning into the dim light where Paula couldn’t see her face. It was disturbing to have such a strong emotion centered on her. She desired Paula passionately. Every endearment Beebo had spoken to her, she had spoken truthfully, but without once repeating, “I love you.”
Paula had brought her out; something Paula herself couldn’t believe. And no matter what other women might figure in Beebo’s life, Paula would always be dear to her for that alone.
But Beebo was afraid of hurting her. There was more than a humble excuse in Paula’s explanations; there was also that weapon of amorous women, a plea for sympathy. It was a hint to Beebo: Don’t hurt me like the girl in the plaid pajamas did, or you’ll destroy me. Beebo caught it and fretted over it in silence.
Paula began to worry that she had said too much. She raised up on one elbow, pressed her mouth against Beebo’s cheek, and said, “I want you to know I’m as surprised as you are by this love-at-first-sight thing. I thought it was all rot till I met you. Darling, I’m well aware it didn’t hit you as hard as it did me. I promise I won’t be a nuisance. I’ll love you very quietly like a good sensible girl. I won’t shriek and weep in public, or chase you, or take pills. I’ll just love you. So much and so well you’ll have to love me back…someday. You will, won’t you?”
Beebo felt suddenly cornered and couldn’t answer. But when she finally glanced at Paula, Paula had found the courage to smile at her, to tuck her dismay out of sight. It gave Beebo an odd sort of pride in her, as if a child of hers had performed bravely in the face of a hard disappointment. It made Paula still sweeter and more attractive.
“Doesn’t everybody love you, little Paula?”
“Almost everybody…except Miss Plaid Pajamas and Beebo Brinker.” Paula gave her a wry grin that let Beebo relax. “But they don’t count. All the intelligent, rich, beautiful people are insanely in love with me.”
Beebo laughed and pulled her down on the bed. “Not hard to see why,” she said. “You’re adorable.” She was still full of wonderment and fascination over the new role she was playing with Paula: lover, friend, protector. It felt so good, it fit so well, it rather astounded her. It was like picking up a violin for the first time and finding you could play a lilting tune with no practice at all.
Beebo’s good humor rescued Paula from the dumps. She began to feel affectionate again. For Beebo, it was a delirious pleasure to act out on a real girl in a real bed all the intense love play that had filled her solitude. She fell asleep very late, very tired, with Paula in her arms.
Beebo got up early the next morning. She was in no hurry to face Pete Pasquini, knowing what she now knew about him, but she didn’t want to lose her job till she could scout down another. She was not in a financial position to get hard-nosed with him yet, and besides she was confident that she could handle whatever he could dish out. They were nearly of a size, and he had never shown himself more than a brash nuisance. And anyway, a man who could fall in love with the likes of Mona Petry was not likely to find himself erotically interested in Beebo Brinker.
Paula was pensive throughout breakfast and when Beebo demanded to know why, she admitted, “It’s Mona.”
Beebo laughed, but Paula was serious. “She’s one of those people with nothing to do. She has to make trouble to keep from going mad with the ‘Flats’—that’s what she calls it. She doesn’t work—her men give her enough money to live on. She doesn’t do a thing but amuse herself. If you know her at all, you have to be a lover or a hater. There’s no middle ground with her.”
“Shall I hire a bodyguard?” Beebo kidded.
“She’ll try to punish you somehow. She’s been stood up by you and tricked by Pete. She’s not the kind who can tolerate being made a fool of. Pete doesn’t count, he’s only a man, and she can twist him around her finger if she’s in the mood. But you…”
“What can Mona do to me?” Beebo said, still smiling.
“Mona is very inventive. She’ll think of something,” Paula said.
“Do you mean she’d hurt you?” Beebo’s smile faded.
“Oh, I doubt it,” Paula said. “It wouldn’t be half as much fun as making an effigy of Beebo and sticking pins in it. If she does, you’ll squirm, too. For heaven’s sake, darling, don’t do anything she could blackmail you for.”
Beebo laughed and reassured her. Mona’s jealousy seemed more silly to her than dangerous.
Beebo didn’t see Pete Pasquini at work all day, and Marie had no idea where he was. “Out making babies with the filles,” she said with offhand contempt.
Beebo had no wish to confront him and she finished out the day’s work in relief. But when she got home that night, there was a new surprise for her.
Jack let her in, taking the bags of groceries from her. “Haven’t seen you for two nights,” he said. “Paula must have attractions I can’t match.”
“Oh, you’re not bad,” Beebo smiled. “For a man.”
He started stowing things in the refrigerator, and Beebo became aware of Pat, who had followed them into the kitchen. “Good news,” Jack said. “Celebration tonight.” He pulled a bottle of sparkling burgundy from the shelf.
Beebo glanced from one to the other. “Did you boys finally tie the knot?” she said, trying to make it sound light.
“Nothing formal yet,” Jack grinned. “I believe in long engagements. No, little pal, we
