“Ah,” said Jack. “Laura’s afraid of Marcie. But Marcie’s not afraid of anything. Marcie’s a little heller. Here she comes.” And he pushed his mushroom after hers. Laura felt her cheeks get hot.
“I’m not going to run away,” she said, and took a swallow from her drink, letting “Laura” stay put.
“Okay, be a hero,” said Jack. “Make it easy for her. Look at that little bitch!” and he scooped “Marcie” over “Laura,” back and forth, the passage facilitated by the gravy. “She’s nuts. She’s on a kick. She wants you to make a fool of yourself.”
Laura wouldn’t watch. She finished her drink for an excuse not to look.
“But look at Laura,” Jack went on. “She can’t stand it. Where Marcie goes, Laura goes.” And he pushed “Marcie” and “Laura” around the plate together.
“Stop it, Jack. Get me another drink.”
“Here’s where Laura goes crazy.”
“Now stop it!”
He crammed the two mushrooms into the potatoes, helter skelter, one over the other. “Laura got what she wanted,” he said, after a minute, looking up at her briefly. “But see what happens to her.” And with one sudden cruel stroke he sliced “Laura” in half. Laura gave a little start. “Marcie got bored with the game,” he explained.
Laura laughed nervously. “Now cut it out and get me a drink,” she said.
He got up smiling, without a word, and went to the bar. Laura couldn’t look at the plate. She signaled the waitress, who came over with a water pitcher.
“Will you take this out please?”
“Something wrong with it?”
“I can’t eat mushrooms.”
“Well, why dincha say so!” She took the plate with an angry “Jeez!” muttered under her breath.
Jack came back to find her laughing. “Couldn’t take it, hm?” He nodded at the vacant space where the plate was, and then looked at Laura. “Want to leave?”
“No. I don’t want to go anywhere, Jack. Let’s just sit here a while and talk.”
“About Marcie?”
“About Marcie.” She laughed again.
“By Jesus, you’re a pretty girl,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize it till now. You ought to get soused more often.”
“I’m not soused, I’m in love.”
He gave a snort of disbelief. “Okay not-soused and in-love. You’re headed straight blind for misery. You know that.”
“My eyes are wide open. She’ll never love me.”
“Don’t tell me. Tell yourself. Believe yourself.”
“I do.”
He shook his head and laughed a little. “I see it coming and I tell you ‘Look out, she’s murder’ and you say ‘You’re absolutely right’ and then off you go to slit your own throat.” He leaned over the table seriously. “Leave her, Laura,” he pleaded, and took her by surprise with his earnestness. “It’s no good falling for a straight one. Believe me.”
“I won’t leave her,” she said stubbornly. “I know what I’m doing.”
He leaned back with a sigh. “Then at least look at somebody else,” he said. “Look at Beebo. She’s cruising you like mad.”
“Who’s Beebo? I wouldn’t look at anybody with such a ridiculous name. What’s cruising?”
“Beebo’s a friend of mine. And cruising—well—you’ll catch on.” He grinned.
Laura turned warily around. At the bar sat the handsome boyish girl she had admired the week before. She was gazing boldly, but without great interest, at Laura. When Laura turned to see her she smiled, very slightly.
Laura turned back to Jack. “Is that Beebo?” she asked. “In the black pants?”
Jack laughed at her. “You mean tan shorts?”
Laura looked again. “Well, she had on black pants last time.”
“Did she?” He grinned. “She says you had on a blue dress with a white collar. You did, too. I remember it. She liked it.”
Laura stared at him and then got indignant. “What’s she doing, remembering my clothes like that? That’s silly.”
“So are you. You noticed hers.”
“I just—oh, damn! She followed us into the john.”
“I know. She talked to me before she went after you. I told you, Mother. She likes your face.”
“She likes Marcie’s. That’s why she followed us,” she snapped.
He shook his head “no.”
“How do you know?” Laura flared, the jealousy working in her.
“I know Beebo,” he chuckled.
Laura was getting curious. She finished her drink in three big swallows, which made Jack laugh. “Is she a friend of yours?” she said.
He shrugged. “More or less. I keep running into her at parties. For years we ran into each other before we got acquainted. I like her. She’s a hellion, but I like her. She’s a cynic like me.”
“What a pity.” Laura feigned unconcern, running a wet finger around the edge of her glass. “She looks like Beth,” she said. “A little.”
Jack blew smoke through his nostrils from a freshly lighted cigarette. “That means you like her,” he said.
Laura refused to honor such nonsense with an answer. She was rather drunk now. She turned again to look at Beebo. Beebo was still gazing at her, and she winked, with that faint private smile still on her face. Laura turned quickly back to Jack. “Is she coming over?” she said, feeling slightly elated.
Jack was grinning past her at Beebo and nodding. At her words he glanced at her. “No,” he said. “She’s an uppity bitch.”
Laura was disappointed.
“Another drink?”
“One more. That’s all. What time is it?”
“Eleven-thirty.”
“No!” She tried to collect her thoughts, to right her time sense, while Jack fetched the drinks. When he came back, she said, “How many drinks have I had?”
“Jesus, Mother, what a thing to ask a man. I can’t even keep track of my own.”
“I’m lost,” she said. “I’ve lost count.”
“Shall we take off, Mother mine?” Jack said, very carefully.
Laura tried to clear her head by shaking it and pressing her eyes shut. “I guess we’d better,” she said.
“I guess we have to. It’s four o’clock. They’re closing.”
“Four!” Laura came half awake at this.
“Four o’clock,” he repeated elaborately.
“Oh, God. Oh, my head.”
“Never mind, Mother, you can stay with me tonight. I’ll try to keep my hands off you.”
