“I wish he’d say it to me!” Venus cried. “I love him so terribly, but all I do is drive him nuts. I can’t talk to him and he clams up with me.” She came and put a perfumed hand on Beebo’s shoulder. “He hasn’t made a new friend in years,” she said. Her hand was tight and warm and busy, twisting Beebo’s cotton shirt. “I haven’t made much sense, I’m afraid,” she said. “I’m trying to be honest and I’m not used to it.” She gave a clumsy little laugh. “He seems so impressed with you. That was half the reason I wanted you to come back. I thought if you could draw him out somehow…. Did he say anything else?”
Beebo was worried about that expensive and beautiful hand on her shoulder. About that “half the reason I wanted you back”—what was the other half? About Toby’s opinion of his mother’s beaux?
Venus guessed the last part. “My admirers?” she said. “I know he can’t stand them. Neither can I.”
“He thinks you’re too fond of…” Beebo stopped and cleared her throat.
“Don’t get scared off all of a sudden,” Venus pleaded. “I couldn’t take it. I’m too fond of what?”
“Money. And yourself.”
“He’s wrong,” Venus said, frowning. “I know it looks that way. And I do like money. But myself I hate. I hate, hate, hate!” Her voice broke and her hand held tight to Beebo’s shoulder, steadying her. “Money and my career. That’s all I have in the world. That’s why I hang on so hard to them both.”
“You have Toby,” Beebo ventured, wishing she dared to look up at Venus’s face, knowing it was kinder not to.
“Toby isn’t mine,” Venus whispered bitterly. “He just lives here. He won’t let himself be loved. I gave birth to him, but Mrs. Sack is his mother.” She was weeping again.
Beebo reached up and touched her hand, her eyes still down. The whole mess was so sad and ugly; sadder still for having been preventable. Beebo was moved and hurt by Venus’s words because she was moved by Toby: his loneliness, his hopeful trust in her, and now the revelation of his illness.
“You’ve reached him, Beebo,” Venus said. “He wants to be friends with you. You could help me.” She came around the divan and sat down next to Beebo. The swift drum-bump of her heart was visible under the gauzy blue silk and it made Beebo want to touch her there; hold her and say something wise and therapeutic. But she hadn’t the wisdom to manage her own life yet, let alone someone else’s.
“I don’t know much about love, Miss Bogardus,” she said shyly. “I just know if you love somebody, he can’t stop you. All you have to do is keep loving him till he believes in it, I guess.”
“That’s not enough, or he’d be happy,” Venus said.
“Maybe if you did things with him,” Beebo said. “My dad used to spend a lot of time with me. We walked, we talked things over, we played chess.”
“I don’t know the black from the white,” Venus said miserably.
“Toby’s pretty big on guns right now.”
“I don’t even know which end the bullet’s supposed to come out,” Venus said. But after a pause full of self-examination she added, “But I guess I could learn…guns. God.”
“It might make all the difference,” Beebo said.
“Will you come back and see him?” Venus said. “That would help.”
“Sure,” Beebo said, but she looked away. Venus had touched her arm again. “He could drive around with me while I make the deliveries tomorrow. Would he like that?”
“He’d probably die of joy. Anything with a motor in it sends him into rhapsodies.”
Beebo stood up, her own heart beating so fast now that she felt near suffocating. “It’s getting late,” she said. Venus followed her to the door.
“He might resent it if I start sticking my nose into his guns all of a sudden,” she mused.
“Not if you’re really interested,” Beebo said. “He won’t hold it against you, Venus…beautiful Venus.” It was an unpremeditated explosion of admiration. Beebo clamped her mouth shut suddenly, mortified.
But Venus was restored by the slip to good humor. She laughed, and this time it was a pretty sound, a charming answer to a compliment.
“Maybe Toby will turn out all right,” Venus said. “You’re bound to be a good influence.”
Beebo smiled in embarrassment. “He’ll probably disgrace you by turning into a model citizen,” she said.
“I hope he does.” Venus walked the rest of the short distance between them and put her hands on Beebo’s shoulders. She looked very solemn and a bit surprised at herself. “Thanks,” she said.
“For nothing.” Beebo shook her head. She had a wild impulse to pull Venus’s hands off and run.
“Beebo,” Venus said thoughtfully. “Do you want to kiss me?”
In the electrified pause that followed, Beebo heard Toby’s voice echoing in her ears: “Not that way. She’s not sick.” It pounded through her like a pulse and she knew the answer was obvious to Venus. She reached down and touched Venus’s waist. “Yes,” she murmured. Venus seemed reassured, almost pleased. She was on home ground again. She lifted her face and gave Beebo her lovely mouth.
It was an astonishing kiss, long and warm. And after it they stood with their arms around each other a while, faces averted. Beebo didn’t realize how hard her embrace was until Venus began to giggle. “Darling, you’re crushing me,” she said. Beebo released her and backed off hastily, mumbling apologies.
“Here,” Venus said, handing her a hanky. “Take the lipstick off, or Toby will think I’ve perverted you and come after me with one of those damn guns.” She watched Beebo dab at her chin ineffectually, and then did it for her. Beebo stood still and let her work, watching her face intently. It was classically beautiful still, though lacking the pearly perfection of a twenty-year-old’s. But the bone structure beneath was superb. Beebo admired her
