“Charlie, don’t be a fool,” she said sharply. “Give me my bag.”
“Beth, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time.”
People stopped and watched them.
“All right, Charlie,” she said in a brittle voice. She went to the door of a conference room, looked in and found it empty. “We can use this,” she said. “But make it snappy.”
He followed her in, shutting the door behind him. “Beth, where are you going?” he said seriously, indicating the bag.
Beth sighed impatiently. “I’m going home for the weekend. With Laura. On the five-fifteen.” She looked significantly at her watch.
Charlie looked at her in alarm, suddenly alerted. “With Laura?” he said.
Beth turned her back on him. “Yes, with Laura. Now, what is it you’re so anxious to tell me?”
Charlie knew he might lose her, then; really lose her. The bag looked ominous, sitting quietly on the long polished conference table. He leaned against the wall, watching Beth pace up the other side of the table, wondering if he could flush the truth out of her with a scare. “Why don’t you take her to New York?” he said.
Beth stood absolutely still. The click of her heels died abruptly and she was tense as a guy wire, motionless. He hit home—her back told him so. Finally she turned and looked at him.
“What do you mean?” she said, and her voice was very soft.
He straightened up. “If you’re in love with her, go live with her.” His eyes were relentless.
Beth gazed at him with a stricken frown on her face, and suddenly she hurried toward the door. Charlie stepped in front of it, and she stopped, unwilling to touch him. She turned her back to him again.
“Is that all you have to say to me, Charlie?”
“No,” he said. “Do you love her, Beth?”
“What are you trying to prove, Charlie?”
“What are you trying to hide, Beth?”
“Nothing!” she flared.
“Then be honest with me. Do you love her?”
She paused, looking anxiously for an answer. “What makes you think I love her?”
“Answer me, damn it!” he said.
She said, in a haggard, scarcely audible voice, “I don’t know… I don’t know.” And then she turned angry eyes on him. “How did you know?”
“I figured it out. Look, Beth—all I want is a chance to talk to you. I’m not going to strong-arm you into anything; I’m not going to beat you over the head. You ought to know that by this time. I didn’t expect to find you running away, but—”
“I’m not running away. Damn it, Charlie, I’m running into more problems than I’m running away from. I’m not a coward.”
“Listen to me, Beth,” he said, and his eyes were intense and his voice was soft. “Just listen to me for a minute. And remember, no matter what I say, no matter what you feel, I love you.”
That silenced her. For a minute he regarded her quietly and then he said, “Grow up, Beth. I don’t know how much there is to this thing between you and Laura, honey, but it’s all off balance, I’ll tell you that. It’s cockeyed because Laura’s in love with you and you aren’t in love with Laura.”
“I am!”
“A minute ago you didn’t know.” Her eyes fell, and she rubbed them in confusion. “And what’s more,” he went on in his firm voice, “she doesn’t know you’re in love with me. She doesn’t know you ever were.”
“I’m not.”
He ignored her. “This is child stuff, Beth, this thing between you and Laura. You’re deceiving yourself, denying yourself. You’re a woman, honey—a grown woman. An intelligent, beautiful girl with a good life ahead of you. And that life has a man in it and kids and a college degree. Maybe it can’t be that way for Laura. But it’s got to be that way for you.”
“I want something more than that.” Her voice was contemptuous.
“Then you’ll find it. But not by running away. And certainly not by running away with a girl, and a girl you don’t love, at that.”
“Charlie, damn it—”
“You can’t run away, Beth.” His voice, his gestures, were urgent. “My God, you’ve read the books. What do they all say—every damn one? They say running away won’t help, it won’t solve the problem. You can’t run away from the problem, you have to stand pat and face it. Look, darling,” he said, “you aren’t in love with Laura. Laura’s in love with you, yes, but—my God, don’t you see what you’re doing? You’re using her as an excuse. You’re sorry for her, you want to take care of her as if she were a little girl, without thinking what harm that’s doing her. You’re sorry for Emmy, you’re sorry for yourself. You’re mad at the whole God-damned world and me in particular because there are rules that you don’t like, and when somebody breaks the rules somebody gets hurt.
“Don’t you see how young that is? It’s kid stuff, honey. That’s the kind of thing you did back in grade school when the world was a big mystery and rules didn’t seem to make any sense. You couldn’t fight them, you couldn’t make sense of them, so you either kicked and screamed or you ran away.”
“Charlie,” she whispered, and he could hear the tears in her voice, “I can’t hurt Laura. I can’t hurt her. Not now. It’s too late.”
“Beth….” He came up behind her and took her shoulders in his hands, bending his head down close to hers. “Jesus, Beth, don’t you see how much greater the harm would be if you let her go along thinking you love her—let her leave school and home and everything she knows for you—and then let her find out some day that you don’t really love her? That you never loved her? That you’ve only been playing with
