“You’re in no shape—” Venus began, but Beebo broke in, “I’m in better shape than you are.” She made Venus slide over on the front seat while Beebo walked painfully around the car. Her wounds were the sharp residue of Leo’s wrath—but her head was clear. She started the motor, and told Venus firmly, “Toby’s going to live, and so am I.”
Venus looked down at her sparkling knees, trying to control her weeping.
“Look, honey, if you have any ideas about running to Toby with tears streaming down your face, and carrying on as if the end were near, so help me, I’m going to join Mrs. Sack’s team. She said that’s exactly what you’d do.”
“She’s wrong,” Venus said. It was just enough to prick her conscience into action, and she wiped her eyes while they were still flowing.
Neither of them said anything more about Toby or the coming storm with Leo and the papers till they reached the hospital. Venus insisted that Beebo accompany her inside, and Beebo acceded to keep her from getting frantic.
Toby had a concussion, all right. They were making a spinal tap to determine the extent of pressure, if any, on the brain, and to relieve it surgically if necessary. It was urgent to do this as promptly as possible, to avoid brain damage.
“The blow was pretty hard,” Dr. Pitman told them while a nurse dressed Beebo’s wounds in Toby’s room, at Venus’s request. No one dared to question Beebo about them. Venus said imperiously, “She’s hurt. Can you help her?” But her eyes were wild and her thoughts all with Toby.
“Fortunately,” the doctor went on, while Venus bent over her son, peaked and scarcely conscious on the hospital bed, “the skull is thick and tough in the front, with heavier bone than in the back. A blow to the back, of the same force as the one Toby sustained, might have done serious damage. As it is, I’m as concerned about the blood loss as the concussion. We’re preparing a transfusion. He’ll feel a good deal stronger after that than he does now.”
Dr. Pitman looked curiously at Venus. “I must say, Miss Bogardus, you’re taking this better than I expected.”
“Mama?” Toby whispered, and Venus clutched one of his hands in both of hers.
“Yes, Toby,” she said.
“Am I going to be all right?” He looked at her. “I feel so punk.”
“Yes, darling, you are,” she said.
He shut his eyes, reassured, and Venus turned away to cover a sob. The doctor gave her an “I-should-have-known” look and helped her to the door.
“You’re very tired,” he said. “Do you still have some of those yellow pills I gave you at home? All right, I want you to take one and try to rest. You can do Toby more good in the morning, when both of you are feeling better.”
Venus tried to object, but Pitman pulled Beebo aside and said hastily, “I’ve been treating her for years. I know how she can be. If she doesn’t sleep tonight, we’ll see real fireworks, and that will set Toby back if she gets at him.”
Beebo looked at the boy, resting now as the nurses prepared his arm for the blood transfusion, his head neatly bandaged. “Is he really going to be okay, doctor?” she said. “You convince me, and I’ll convince Venus.”
“I think so,” Dr. Pitman said, but his concern was still plain on his face. “To be honest, there is always some risk with any head injury—especially with an epilepsy patient. He needs absolute peace and quiet and as little movement as possible, until the danger of internal hemorrhage is past…but he’s young and sturdy, and we’ll have a twenty-four-hour watch on him. I do believe, Miss Brinker, that his mother will only be in our way tonight. We’ll call immediately if there’s any change for the worse, but I don’t anticipate one now.”
Beebo took Venus out of the hospital in stages, letting her fold up and rest on chairs in the hall on their way, till she had her in the car and could drive her home.
Venus was forced to expend her frustrated maternal impulses on her hurt lover instead of her hurt child. She investigated and re-dressed all of Beebo’s bruises, making small noises of reproof and pity.
“Thanks for braving that party, darling,” Venus told her. “I’d have died of self-contempt if you hadn’t let me know.”
“Toby would have been all right.”
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t. It would have killed me to let Mrs. Sack do it all again. Especially now when Toby and I are getting so close.”
“Where do you suppose Leo is?” Beebo said, touching a cut with careful fingers.
“I’ll be damned if I know. Or care,” Venus said harshly. “I thought for sure he’d be here, waiting to skin both of us alive. He’ll be around sooner or later, you can bet on that.” She sighed, leaving Beebo to turn on the radio by her bed. “I wish they had let me stay with Toby,” she said. “I’m ashamed that they couldn’t.”
“You can see him first thing in the morning,” Beebo comforted her.
Venus unzipped her sequins and dropped them in a starry heap on a chair. Fifteen hundred dollars’ worth of dress and she treated it like a dishcloth. There was nothing underneath it but her shoes, which she kicked off.
Beebo put a hand gently on Venus’s neck, massaging it a little. “Maybe this is a poor time to bring it up,” she said softly. “But we have to talk, Venus. I—I love you, but I can’t stand living this way, honey. I realized something in front of those people at the party: I was on trial. My life, my love for you, my self. I can never love you openly, like a human being. They don’t give me credit for being human.”
“Beebo!” Venus said, looking at her with a shocked face. “Don’t say such ugly things. You’re talking about the girl I adore.”
Beebo looked away. “I’m not the kind of person I
