Warm and Willing - Lawrence Block [53]
“I’m drunk,” she said.
“Rho—”
She thought she was going to be sick again, but managed to get control of herself and the feeling passed. She whirled around and kissed Bobbie on the mouth. She started to sway and Bobbie caught hold of her and drew her in and kissed her again, and Bobbie’s tongue was in her mouth and she held the girl tight against her and let the world go away and kissed her hard and gasped for breath. They were necking on the street like shameless tramps but she didn’t care, didn’t care, and it was too much trouble to stagger off into a doorway because she didn’t care who saw them, didn’t care, but she just wanted to be held and kissed, just wanted everything to be soft and rosy and good and sweet and—
“I’ll be damned!”
She broke away, swayed, stared. A man in front of her, his arm around the waist of a giggling blonde, was glaring and pointing at her. Bobbie had drawn away. She looked at the man and watched his face swim in and out of focus. The face was familiar but she couldn’t place it.
“Sweet little Rhoda,” he said. “Little Miss Hard-to-Get. Jesus, I should have guessed it, I should have figured it out. Jesus, the little frigid one turns out to be a dyke.”
And then she saw his face again, and this time she recognized him. Ed Vance. She drew back as if slapped and he came after her, not to reach for her but to jeer at her.
“You little dyke. You had me going, you know that? I figured you for a hunk of ice that old Tom never knew how to warm up right. Figured it wouldn’t be too hard to straighten things out. A few dinners, a few nights on the town to get you primed. And then I’d show you what it’s like to be a woman. Jesus, I don’t know how I missed it. Living with another girl—sure, sleeping with another girl is more like it.”
Get away, she thought. Go away, leave me alone. Go away from me.
“Tom know about you?”
She shook her head.
“He’ll get a kick out of this, he said. He threw back his head and laughed hysterically. The blonde detached herself from Ed and was looking oddly from one to the other. He turned to her, “Get this,” he said. “I was trying to make time with this dyke. I never even guessed. You imagine?”
The blonde didn’t say anything. Ed laughed again. Rhoda’s knees felt shaky and she couldn’t stand. Then Bobbie was taking her arm, hurrying past the man and the girl and on down the street.
She heard him calling after her. “Hey girls,” he yelled. “I mean fellas. Hey, fellas!” He laughed again, and she could hear the blonde laughing with him. “Hey fellas,” he called again. “Don’t do anything dirty.”
She didn’t remember the walk home. She had a hazy memory of his laughter, harsh and strident, following her down the street. Then there was a large blank space, and then she was in their apartment with Bobbie. She was being sick again, her stomach turning itself painfully inside out, and Bobbie was holding her and telling her that everything would be all right.
Bobbie made her take off all her clothes and get under the shower. The water pounded down upon her flesh and she stood under the spray like a statue in a rainstorm, barely feeling the water, aware of next to nothing. She was in the shower for a long time. Then she got out and Bobbie dried her with a yellow towel and led her into the bedroom. When she lay down her stomach started to bother her again and her head reeled crazily and she sat up. Bobbie lit a cigarette and gave it to her. She took a drag and closed her eyes and dropped the cigarette onto the bed. Bobbie picked it up quickly and gave it back to her.
“Oh, I’m sick,” she said.
“Easy, easy.”
“That was Ed,” she said, “Ed Vance. He was a friend of—”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“You told me on the way home.”
“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything. Bobbie, I don’t feel good.”
“Do you want to throw up some more?”
“No. I drank too much. Why did I drink so much?”
“Everybody drank too much.”
“Why?