Warm and Willing - Lawrence Block [38]
“I—”
“No matter how beautiful you are. And you are, you know. No matter how much I want you. And I do. Oh, too much.”
“I want it to last, Bobbie.”
“Of course you do. Now. And you wanted it to last with Meg, didn’t you?”
“But—”
Bobbie tossed off her drink. “I’m kidding both of us,” she said. “Right now it doesn’t matter whether you’ll be gone in a day or a week or a hundred years. I need you too damned much. I talk a good game but the talk breaks down when you pull the words apart. I couldn’t let you out of here if I wanted to and I don’t want to anyway. I love you, Rho.”
There was a lump in her throat, one that would not be swallowed away. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. Her hands trembled chaotically and her mouth was dusty dry. She stood to her feet and swayed there, lost and rocky, and Bobbie stepped toward her and she fell into the girl’s strong arms. Her head whirled and she could not breathe.
Oh, Megan, she thought, I can’t help this. Megan, I’m sorry, but I can’t help this. Forgive me—
She stood still and let herself be kissed. Bobbie’s lips found hers and Bobbie’s hands gripped her shoulders. Eyes closed, body limp, she let herself be kissed and touched, let herself be lowered down onto the couch. Bobbie stretched out beside her and held her close. They lay that way, bodies touching. They did not move.
“I love you,” she said.
“Oh, Rho.”
“It will be good, won’t it?”
“I don’t want to hurt anybody and I don’t want anybody to hurt me. I just want everything to be wonderful. Will we be wonderful?”
“How can we miss?”
A kiss, soft and gentle. When she opened her eyes, she saw Bobbie’s face inches from her own and she kissed Bobbie again and felt her head swim.
“How will we tell Megan?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I can’t help worrying about it. Everything is complicated, isn’t it? I used to live all by myself and nothing was ever complicated, and I was so lonely I died inside every day until I was almost entirely dead, and now I am breathlessly alive and everything is a Chinese puzzle. What can I say to her? Do you want me to move in here with you?”
“Yes, if you can stand it.”
“Oh, I want to. What do I do? Just move everything from there into here? And what do I say to her? Megan, I don’t love you any more. I don’t want to hurt her. Some other girl had just hurt her when she met me, I don’t want to pile this on top of the other. Bobbie, help me.”
Silence. Then, “She already knows, Rho.”
“About us? How?”
“Not that we’re together yet, maybe. But that we will be, in a week if not now.”
“She loves me.”
“Yes. And she has been there before, Rho, and she’ll make that scene again. She knew last night. I saw her face, once when she looked at you with sad eyes and another time when she looked at me. She could have cheerfully throttled me last night. She knows.”
“Then how—”
“Don’t worry. You’ll manage.”
“I don’t know what I’ll say.”
“You’ll find the words.” Bobby took a breath. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”
“Well, while you’re up—”
Bobbie went off to fill their glasses. Rhoda sat up slowly, blinked, reached for a cigarette. The cat had withdrawn while they embraced; he was seated on the floor now in front of a fake fireplace. He seemed to be studying her again. Little Claude, she thought. He lived there while the girls came and went. How many had he seen?
She looked at her watch. Megan might be home now, she thought. What was she supposed