Ed McBain - He Who Hesitates

"It's not too small at all," Molly said.

"No, it's all right. Plenty of room for just one person."

"That's right," Molly said. She took off her coat and scarf and put them over the arm of the easy chair. "Well," she said, "this is really nice. Maybe I'll move. Do you think there are any vacancies?"

"Gee, I wouldn't know," Roger said. "But actually, this room'll be empty tomorrow, you know. I'll be going back to Carey tomorrow."

"That's right," she said, "I almost forgot."

"Yeah," Roger said, and nodded.

She sat on the edge of the bed. "It's too bad you're going back so soon," she said.

"Well, there's really no reason for me to stay any longer, you know. My mother's expecting me, so really I have to—"

"Oh, sure," Molly said. "This is very comfortable. The bed."

"Yeah, it's not a bad bed," Roger said.

"It seems very comfortable. I hate lumpy mattresses, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Or ones that are too soft."

"This one is pretty good, actually," Roger said. "You get a good night's sleep on it."

Molly leaned back suddenly, swinging her legs up on to the bed and stretching her arms over her head. "Mmmm," she said, "this sure feels good." She smiled at Roger. "I'd better be careful or I'll fall asleep."

"Well," Roger said, and smiled.

"Do you know what gets me about looking for a job?" she asked.

"No what?"

"My feet. They're killing me. Would you mind if I took off my shoes?"

"No, not at all."

"I'll be leaving in a minute," she said, sitting up, and crossing her legs, and taking off first one high-heeled pump and then the other. "But while I'm here I might as well take advantage of the opportunity, huh?"

"Sure," Roger said.

"Ahhhhh," she said, and wiggled her toes. "Ahhhh, that feels good." She put her arms behind her, the elbows locked, and stared up at him. "Aren't you going to take off your coat?" she asked.

"What? Oh. Oh, I thought—"

"I've got a few minutes," she said. "We don't have to rush right out again. I mean, not unless you want to."

"No, no," Roger said.

"Besides, it feels so good with these shoes off," she said, and smiled.

"Just make yourself comfortable," he said. He took off his coat and went to the closet with it. "I'm sorry I can't offer you a drink or anything, but I haven't got any in the room."

"Oh, that's all right," she said. "I don't drink much anyway."

He hung his coat on a hanger, and then took Molly's from the chair and put it over his on the same hanger. He looped her scarf over the hanger hook, and put everything back in the closet. "If the liquor stores were open," he said, "I'd go down for some. But I think—"

"No, I don't mind. I hope I didn't give you the impression that I drink a lot."

"No, I didn't get that impression."

"Because I usually don't, except socially. It's been so depressing, though, marching around this city and not being able to find anything. It can get really depressing, I mean it."

"I can imagine," Roger said.

"Boy, it's good to get out of those shoes," she said, and she leaned back, propping herself on one elbow so she could watch him. She smiled. "Is that the only light in here?" she asked.

"What?"

"The light. It's kind of harsh."

"There's a lamp on the dresser," Roger said. "Would you like it better if I—"

"Please. It's just that lying back like this, I'm looking right up into the light there.".

"I'll just put this one on," Roger said, and went to the dresser. He turned on the small lamp, and then flicked out the overhead light. "How's that?"

"Better," she said. "Much better."

She closed her eyes. The room was silent.

"Mmm," she said. She stretched and then leaned back and said, "I really better be careful or I will fall asleep."

"It's early yet," Roger said.

"The night is young, huh?" she said, and giggled. "Be funny if your landlady walked in here tomorrow morning and found a strange girl in your bed, wouldn't it?"

"Well, she never walks in," Roger said. "Nobody ever bothers you here."

"You mean you've had strange girls in here before?"

"No, I didn't mean that," Roger said.

The girl giggled. "I know. I'm teasing." She opened her eyes and looked at him solemnly. "I'm a big tease."

Roger said nothing.

"Though not that way," Molly said. She paused. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I'm not sure."

She smiled briefly, and then sat up suddenly, swung her legs over the side of the bed and said, "I'm getting your bedspread all wrinkled. Your landlady won't like that a bit. I mean, she may not object to girls in your room, but I'll bet she doesn't like a wrinkled bedspread or lipstick all over the pillow."

"Well, she's never found any lipstick on the pillow," Roger said, and smiled.

"No, and we're not going to give her any to find, either." She padded to the dresser in her stockinged feet, opened her bag, took out a Kleenex, and leaned close to the mirror. She wiped off her lipstick quickly, and then put the tissue back into her bag. "There," she said, and smiled at him. He was beginning to dislike the way she was making herself so comfortable, the way she was moving around the room so easily and naturally, as if she owned the place. He watched her as she went to the bed and pulled back the bedspread and fluffed up the pillows. "There," she said again, and sat on the edge of the bed.

She smiled at him.

"Well," she said, "here we are."

The room was silent again. She stared at him levelly.

"Do you want to make love to me?" she asked.

"That's not why I brought you up here," he said quickly.

The smile was still on her face, but it seemed to have weakened somewhat, as though his words had embarrassed her, or injured her. He didn't want to make her feel bad, and he certainly didn't want to hurt her. But at the same time, he didn't particularly feel like getting involved with her, not in that way, not with a girl as plain as she was.

"I mean, I didn't bring you up here to take advantage of you," he said gallantly. "I only wanted to show you the room because you said maybe you—"

"I know."

"—might want to move if it was a good-sized room."

"It's a good-sized room," she said.

"But, believe me, I wasn't planning—"

"And it's a very comfortable bed," she said.

"—on taking advantage of you, if that's what you thought."

"That's not what I thought."

"Good because—"

"I didn't think you'd take advantage of me."

"Good because—"

"It wouldn't be taking advantage of me," Molly said flatly.

He looked at her silently.

"I have a lot to give," she said.

He did not answer her.

She stood up suddenly and pulled the flaps of her blouse out of the black skirt. Slowly, she began unbuttoning the blouse. There was something ludicrous about her performance. She stood alongside the bed with her head erect, the flaming red hair burnished in the glow of the single lamp on the dresser, her hands slowly unbuttoning the blouse, staring at him, her eyes serious and solemn in the plain face, the fake eyelashes, the penciled eyebrows, the pointed fake breasts in the padded bra slowly revealed as her hands worked the buttons at the front of the blouse. She threw the blouse and the bra onto the bed behind her and then unzipped the skirt and stepped out of it. He felt nothing. He looked at her as she took off the rest of her clothing and moved toward him, an oddly shaped woman with tiny breasts, large bursting nipples, wide in the hips, far too wide in the behind, thick in the thigh and ankle, there was nothing exciting about her, nothing attractive about her, he felt no desire at all for her. She moved into his arms. She was very warm.

They whispered in the night.

"I sometimes feel all alone in the world," she said.