Ann Bannon - Women In The Shadow

“Sure, I know. Darling .” She lampooned Laura’s soothing love word sarcastically. “You just pick that name out of a hat. For some screwy reason it just happens to be the same name all the time.”

“If you’re going to be like that I won’t apologize next time.”

“ Next time! Are you planning on next time already? God!”

“Beebo, you know that’s all over—”

“I swear, Laura, sometimes I think you must have a girl somewhere.” Laura gasped indignantly, but Beebo went on, “I do! You talk about Beth, Beth, Beth so much I’m beginning to think she’s real. She’s my demon. She lives around the corner on Seventh Avenue somewhere and you sneak off and see her in the evenings when I work late and her husband is out.” Her voice was sharp and probing, like a needle in the hands of a nervous nurse.

“Beebo, I’ve never betrayed you! Never!”

Beebo didn’t really believe she had. But Laura had hurt her enough without betraying her and Beebo, who was not blind, could see that Laura would not go on forever in beautiful blamelessness.

“You will,” Beebo said briefly. They were the words of near despair.

Laura was suddenly full of pity. “Beebo, don’t make me hurt you,” she begged. She got on her knees and bent over Beebo. “I swear I’ve never touched another girl while we’ve lived together, and I never will.”

“You mean when you stumble on a tempting female one of these days you’ll just move out. You can always say, ‘I never cheated on Beebo while we lived together. I just got the hell out when I had a chance.’”

“Beebo, damn you, you’re impossible! You’re the one who’s saying all this! I don’t want to cheat, I don’t want to hurt you, I hate these ugly scenes!” She began to weep while she talked. “God, if you’re going to accuse me of something, accuse me of something real. Sometimes I think you’re getting a little crazy.”

Beebo clasped her around the waist then, her strong fingers digging painfully into Laura’s smooth flesh, and sobbed. They were hard sobs, painful as if each one were twisting her throat.

“Forgive me, forgive me,” she groaned. “Why do I do it? Why? Laura, my darling, my only love, tell me just once—you aren’t in love with anybody else, are you?”

No!” said Laura with the force of truth, resenting Beebo’s arms around her. She wanted to comfort her, yet she feared that Beebo would pounce on the gesture as a proof of love and force her into more lovemaking. Her hands rested awkwardly on Beebo’s shoulders.

“If you ever fall for anybody, Bo-peep, tell me. Tell me first, don’t spare me. Don’t wait till the breach is too wide to heal. Give me a chance. Let me know who it is, let me know how it happened. Don’t keep me wondering and agonizing over it. Anything would be better than lies and wondering. Promise you’ll tell me. Promise , love.”

She looked up at Laura now, shaking her so hard that Laura gasped. “Promise!” she said fiercely.

“All right,” Laura whispered, afraid of her.

“Say it.”

“I promise—to tell you—if I—oh, Beebo, please—”

“Go on, damn you!”

“If I ever fall—for somebody else.” Her voice was almost too weak to hear.

Beebo released her then and they both fell back on the bed, worn out. For a long time they lay awake, but neither would make a move toward the other or utter a word.

The next day Beebo awoke feeling that they had come closer to the edge of breaking up than ever before, and she could feel herself trembling all over. She got up before Laura was awake and, taking Nix with her into the kitchen, she poured herself a shot. She was ashamed of this new little habit she was acquiring. She hadn’t told anybody about it, not even Jack. Just one drink in the morning. Just one. Never more. It made her hands steady. It made the day look brighter and not quite so endless. It made her situation with Laura look hopeful.

She took the hot and satisfying amber liquid straight, letting it burn her tight throat and ease her. Then she washed out the shot glass and returned it to the shelf with the bottle.

“Nix,” she said softly to the little dog, “I’m a bad girl. Your Beebo is a wicked bitch, Nix. Do you think anybody cares? Do you think it matters? What the hell good is it to be a bad little girl if nobody notices you? What fun is it then? Shall I have another shot, Nix? Nobody’s looking.”

He whimpered a little, watching her with puddle-bright eyes, and made her laugh. “You care, don’t you, little dog?” She leaned down and picked him up. “You care, anyway. You’re telling me not to be an ass and let myself in for a lot of trouble. And you’re right. Absolutely.”

She sat down on a kitchen chair and sighed. “You know, if she loved me, Nix, I wouldn’t have to do it. You know that, don’t you? Sure you do. You’re the only one who does. Everybody else thinks I’m just turning into an old souse. But it’s not true. It’s because of Laura, you know that as well as I do. She makes me so miserable. She has my life in her hands, Nix.” She laughed a little. “You know, that’s kind of frightening. I wish I knew if she was on my side or not.”

There was a moment when she thought she would cry and she dumped Nix off her lap and quickly poured herself one more shot. It went down easier than number one, but she washed the shot glass out as before and put it and the bottle back on the shelf as if to tell herself: That’s all, that’s enough .

Beebo turned and smiled at Nix. “Now look at me,” she said. “I’m more sober than when I’m really sober. My hands have quit shaking. And I’m not going to quarrel with her when she gets up. I’m going to say something nice. Come here, dog. Help me think of something….

“I’d sell my soul to be an honest-to-God male. I could marry Laura! I could marry her. Give her my name. Give her kids … oh, wouldn’t that be lovely? So lovely….” Jack’s desire for a child didn’t seem grotesque to her at all anymore.

“But Nix,” she went on, and her face fell, “she wouldn’t have me. My baby is gay, like me. She wants a woman. Would God she wanted me. But a woman, all the same, She’d never take a man for a mate.”

She felt the vile tears sneaking up on her again and shook her head hard. “She couldn’t take that, Nix. It’d be even worse than—than living with me.” And she gave a hard laugh.

Beebo heard the bedroom door open and she dropped Nix and went to the icebox. Within moments Laura entered the kitchen.

“‘Morning,” she said.

“Good morning, Madam Queen. What’ll it be?”

“Soft boiled egg, please. Have to hurry, I’ll be late to work.” She had a job in a tourist trap over on Greenwich Avenue, where they sold sandals and earrings and trinkets.

Beebo busied herself with the eggs and Laura poured orange juice and opened the paper. She buried herself in it, moving just a little to let Beebo put her plate down in front of her.

Beebo sat down opposite her and ate in silence for a minute, eating very little. She lighted a cigarette after a few minutes and sipped cautiously at her hot coffee.

“Laura?” she said.

“Hm?”

“Even in the morning, with your hair up and your nose in the paper and your eyes looking everywhere but at me … I love you, Laura.” She said it slowly, composing it as she went and smiling a little at the effect. The liquor had loosened her up.

“What?” said Laura, her eyes following a story and her ears deaf.

“I have a surprise for you, Bo-peep,” Beebo tried again.

“Oh. Says here it’s going up to ninety today … A surprise?” She lowered the paper a bit to look at Beebo.