“Oh, she thinks she is. She’s just so young, she doesn’t know. These things never last.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, Em, when you go to a girl’s boarding school, you just know. It happens all the time. You grow out of it. It doesn’t last. It’s just part of growing up. Didn’t you ever have a crush on a girl?”
Emmy searched her memory. “No,” she said doubtfully. “I don’t think so. Oh, once when I was about twelve, I guess…. No, I don’t think that was really a crush….” She looked at Beth.
“Well, maybe not.”
“Anyway, there were always so many boys around and they were so much more fun. Well, I mean—” She hunched her shoulders.
“I know, I know. It never happens to some people. And it does to others. That’s all.”
“Beth, how do you know it won’t last with Laura? I mean, some people never grow out of childish things, if this is a childish thing. How do you know?”
“Oh, because Laur’s a sensible girl. She’s sentimental, and she’s—well, she’s just timid. She hasn’t known enough men. She’s afraid of them. When she gets over that she’ll be all right.” She had to be all right.
“Well, I guess you ought to know. But some people go through all their lives queer. Oh, I don’t mean you, Beth! I guess that’s not a very nice word.”
“Oh, it’s just a word. What’s in a word?”
“Besides, you’re in love with a man.”
“Yes, 1 am. Oh, I am, Emmy, I am!”
“Well, how can you love two people at once, Beth?”
“I can’t. That’s the whole trouble. I’m in love only with Charlie. But don’t you see, Em—Laura can’t be in love with me forever. I mean, a schoolgirl crush just doesn’t last that long. I know, I’ve had them. You get over them. She’ll get used to the idea of dating—of having me date, too—and pretty soon she’ll begin to forget about it. And nobody gets hurt. Do you see?”
“Yeah. If it works.”
“Emmy, you mustn’t worry. Now that she understands about Charlie, there won’t be any more trouble. That was the whole trouble before.”
“Does she understand about him?”
“Oh, yes.” Beth crushed the cigarette out in a bean-bottomed ashtray.
“Does she know you love him?”
“She knows I need him, Em.” Emmy frowned at her. “Oh, Em, believe me, I know what I’m doing.” She spoke heartily, in order to convince herself. “There won’t be any more trouble now. We all understand each other. Everything’s going to be all right. Really.”
“Does Charlie understand about Laura?”
“Oh, no!” said Beth, and the idea shocked her. “He’ll never know.”
“I hope not,” Emmy said. “Well, okay, Beth, I trust you.” She had never seen Beth in a situation she couldn’t handle.
Beth was right, for a while. She and Charlie were happy, Laura seemed to be happy, and even Mitch seemed to have deserted his books for a gay social life. He’d called Mary Lou and they were seeing a great deal of each other. Even Bud had settled down to a steady routine. He’d given Emmy his fraternity pin, which was in the nature of a minor miracle. Bud had managed to elude every other girl he’d known and leave them unscathed, his pin still firmly attached to his old tennis sweater. But Emmy had won and she was triumphant. She was teased, however.
As Beth put it to Laura, “That’s just the first plateau. She’s trying for the sixty-four-thousand-dollar ring.” Laura laughed and Beth went on. “She’ll never make it. Not with that guy. She’d better switch categories pronto.”
Mary Lou said hopefully, “Maybe she’ll calm down now and stop panting over him in public.”
And so the month went by, peaceful on the surface, but boiling dangerously just below the surface.
The first week in March brought sorority initiation. Laura became a full-fledged Alpha Beta with a pin like Beth’s. And she and Beth shared a sentimental bond that Charlie couldn’t break.
It eased Laura to think about it on dreary weekends when Beth and Emmy were out with Charlie and Bud and she sat at home alone and studied, for she wasn’t going out very much any more. She wouldn’t have at all, except when Beth insisted on it, and then she accepted a blind date only to keep peace.
“You’ve got to go out once in a while, Laur. My God, you dated every week last fall. It’d look just too damn strange if you suddenly quit for no reason.”
So she sighed and did as Beth told her. The nicest part of the weekend was at closing hours when Beth came in and Emmy went to bed. Emmy usually went off discreetly and it struck Laura as simple good luck. Beth never told her that Emmy knew.
Once, Laura asked, “Emmy doesn’t suspect anything, does she? I mean, I was pretty temperamental a couple of times. Do you think she suspected?”
And Beth laughed and mussed up her hair and said, “Laur, honey, you worry about all the wrong things.” And Laura, as always, took her cue from Beth. Beth wasn’t worried, so there was nothing to worry about. Beth didn’t think they were doing anything wrong, so they weren’t.
Usually when Beth came in she was in a good humor. She wanted to tease and play and cuddle Laura and she was easily roused. It seemed to Laura then that Beth would always come back to her, however far she wandered; that she alone could satisfy her, make her happy. But now and then Beth came in quiet and uncommunicative, simply too satisfied for more passion. And then Laura wondered.
Sometimes Beth was a little drunk and then Laura talked at her. Beth would tickle her to make her giggle and then laugh at her pout.
“Beth, you’ve been drinking,” she would say.
“Not against the law, honey. I’m of age.”
“That’s not the point. I think it’s disgusting.” And she would turn her back on Beth’s amusement.
“Laura, forgive me,” Beth would plead and laugh at her. “You smell
