Odd Girl (20 page)

"Never mind." She returned Jacques' pen. "I'll tell her in person."

"Alice, you're cracking up." He shrugged his shoulders in exasperation and gave back her twenty dollars.

"I'm sorry," Anne said. She felt embarrassed. Jacques was looking at her, wondering what was wrong. She forced herself to wait patiently for her turn on line.

* * *

They walked back, carrying the heavy shopping bags. It had become dark now and the lights of the shops guided them back to Pru's street. Pru had closed the store and Anne saw a light on in the upstairs apartment. She rang the doorbell and waited, letting the fresh air and the quiet of the street soothe the impatience she had felt at the supermarket.

Pru opened the door and took Anne's package. Her sleeves were rolled up and her hands full of soap. "Goodness," she said, "did you shop for the month?" She ran up the stairs with the package and Anne and Jacques followed. Anne was quiet. She could barely face Pru—she was ashamed of what she had intended to do before.

Pru brought the package into the kitchen and then took Jacques' bag and also brought it to the kitchen. She resumed her task of washing dishes. "Sit down. I'll be through in a minute," she called to them.

It was warm and cozy. Anne took off her jacket and helped Jacques with his and then went to the closet with them. Portia had recognized Jacques and now drew him to the sofa, rolling on her back and flirting with him.

"That was a fifty-dollar sale," Pru said, tinkling the silverware. "Are you a rabbit's foot, Anne?"

I love her, Anne thought, and felt worse.

"Jacques is staying for supper, isn't he?" Pru said.

"Yes, please stay." Anne turned to him. She hoped he would say no. She wanted to be alone with Pru now. She wanted to tell Pru what she had intended to do. She no longer wanted to see Beth, but she did want to tell Pru about it.

"I'd love it," Jacques said happily.

Anne groaned silently and resolved to make the best of the evening. She was determined to be hospitable. She had no right to burden Pru or Jacques with her conflict.

"Get out of the kitchen," she called to Pru. "I'm the cook around here."

Pru laughed, dried her hands and came back to the living room. "All yours."

She went to the card table and put it up. "Pick out a record, Jacques," she said. "I'll be right over." She got up again and caught Anne as she went toward the kitchen. "What's for supper?"

"Hamburgers," Anne said, not looking at her. She tried to break away but Pru's strong arms gently held her.

"What's wrong, Anne?" she said in a voice too soft to disturb Jacques' stream of thought.

Anne forced herself to meet Pru's eyes. "I thought of Beth for a while," she said, and waited.

Pru smiled and rubbed Anne's chin. "Don't worry about it. We can talk later."

Pru's eyes were kind and a relief. Anne pressed her head on Pru's shoulder for a moment and enjoyed the warm protective feeling of Pru's body near hers, then broke away and went to the kitchen.

Pru had put the groceries on the table and Anne began emptying the bags and putting most of the things in the refrigerator. She was fighting a headache. She hated the thought of cooking. She lit the broiler impatiently and decided to make meatloaf since Jacques was staying. It would be simple to prepare and then she could join Pru and Jacques in the living room while it cooked. She opened the window and let the fresh air soothe her. She wished she could take a long walk around the block.

"Need any help?" Pru called from the living room. She was sitting with Jacques on the sofa, listening to Jacques' choice for the phonograph.

"No thanks," Anne said. She had efficiently prepared every pot and now was chopping onions. She cursed herself for having been so irresponsible about tonight's supper. She had not planned for soup or dessert and she was out of parsley. I was thinking of Beth instead of concentrating on shopping, she scolded herself. But scolding did not make her thoughts behave. She was upset. She did not want to cook. She wanted to go out. Yes, the feeling was still there. She wanted to see Beth.

Pru came into the kitchen to look in all the pots. "Smells wonderful," she said, looking much like a little boy waiting for supper.

"It's miserable," Anne countered in a small moan, "just awful."

Pru laughed and came to pat her cheek. "I'm sure it's not."

"Don't be so damned sure!" Anne snapped, turning her face away from Pru's hand. She regretted her outburst immediately and mentally blamed it on the headache.

Pru put down the cover to the pot and took Ann's hands, pulling her close. "Am I making you into a housewife?" she said apologetically.

Anne hugged her tightly. "I like cooking for you, Pru. I'm just in a mean mood, that's all."

Pru held her tightly in return and stroked her hair. Anne let her own nervous body press against Pru's slightly trembling frame. "We're like two quivering cats," she said aloud.

Pru laughed slightly, holding her tighter. "I like you more than Portia." She became very serious and clutched Anne. "I need you very much," she said.

Those are the right words, Anne thought, holding Pru closer. She wanted to be needed. Beth needed her; that was why she wanted to see Beth now—because Beth had written and the letter sounded as if Beth were in need. But Pru had said she needed her too.

"Why do you need me?" Anne said. It was hard to believe Pru needed anyone. Pru seemed so self-sufficient.

Pru smiled. "Because you're family, too." She let go of Anne and rubbed the top of her head fondly. "I wish I had met you nine years ago, before Helen."

Anne laughed. "I would have been twelve years old."

"Whoops!" Pru chuckled. "Well, I guess I wouldn't have corrupted a minor."

"But I'm glad I'm here now," Anne said. The thought of Beth went away for a moment and she held Pru's hand, that familiar hand which fit so snugly in her own. Then she let go for a moment to put the meatloaf in the oven and walked out of the kitchen, still holding Pru.

"Alice, what a royal camp," Jacques said, looking up from a gay novel out of Pru's extensive collection. He had kicked off his shoes and was sitting with Portia on his lap on the sofa, completely at home. He seemed so very small and young on the sofa.

Pru sat on the floor and Anne sat in front of her, using Pru's body as a backrest.

"Yes, it's fit for a queen," Anne smiled. "I'm glad you like it," Pru said, kissing Anne's ear lightly. They felt at ease with Jacques. "What are your ambitions?" Pru asked him. She too thought him young and liked him in a protective way.

"I want to dance," he said, pleased that she had asked. "Alice and I were in the same theater group."

"Yes," Anne said. "That was how we met."

"Why do you call her Alice?" Pru asked, amused at Jacques' terms.

"It's some sort of gay expression," Anne said, feeling she had to defend Jacques a little.

"It's because she's in wonderland," Jacques said. "You know—meeting queens.”

Both Pru and Anne laughed loudly.

"I never realized that was why you called me that," Anne said. "I don't mind the name as much now."

"Tell me," Pru nudged Anne, "is his name really Jacques, or did he make that one up too?"

"It's Jonathan," Jacques confessed a bit ashamed. "My father's a retired missionary."

They would have laughed again but the telephone rang. Jacques was nearest to it so he answered.

"Esther!" he exclaimed, surprised. "How did you know I'd be here!" He was puzzled. "Who am I? Jacques, of course, who else? No, you didn't dial a wrong number."

"Dear me," Pru scratched her head, a bit red in her face, "I guess I'm being found out." She got up and went toward the telephone. "I think it's for me, Jonathan."

Anne watched her, amused and a bit nervous. Esther was calling Prudence and now she would know about Anne.

"Hello, Es," Pru said, "I'm here with Jacques and Anne. Yes—Anne. She's staying with me."

Anne listened intently, trying to imagine how Esther was taking it at the other end.

"Alice, what a triangle!" Jacques said, guessing the situation.

"Hush," Anne said, trying to listen to the conversation.

"Wait a minute," Pru said, "I'll put her on."

She handed the telephone to Anne and said, "Esther wants to speak to you."

Anne got up nervously and took the telephone. "Hello," she said shyly.

"Anne, why the hell didn't you say it was Johnson?" Esther exclaimed. Her voice was highly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Anne said, "I didn't know whether Prudence wanted me to tell you."

"Well, for God's sake!" Esther said, exasperated. "Am I seeing you Sunday?"

"I don't know," Anne said. And then she looked at Prudence quietly waiting and grew more determined. "I don't think so, Esther. I'm sorry."

"I see," Esther said. Her voice was hard now, stony. "Well, I guess I can't blame you. Johnson's a good catch. I've been trying myself all this time." She paused for a moment and then said coldly, "Goodbye, Anne."

Anne heard her hang up. Her face began to flush and she became upset. She had hurt Esther. She put the telephone down slowly and sat on the bed.

Pru came over and rubbed her neck. "Poor Anne, don't worry. She'll forget and forgive both of us next week."

"How do you know?" Anne snapped and turned away.

"She's right, Alice," Jacques said. "I know Esther. Nothing hurts her very badly."

Pru ignored him and looked at Anne. "I'm afraid I've neglected to tell you something about Esther," she said. "You see, that Sunday morning date she was breaking was with me." She waited, a little amused and embarrassed.

"Then she called you to call it off," Anne said.

"No, she did that yesterday afternoon," Pru said. "She asked me to postpone it until Sunday night. I asked her to call me back to confirm it. That's why she called now." Pru waited again, awkwardly, because Jacques had also heard this.

Anne walked away from the telephone. If only she could believe Pru, but now she did not trust her. Now she suspected Pru of being unfair, of having tricked Esther. And so the thought of Beth came back and she wanted to leave; she wanted to speak to Beth, to give her a fair chance.

"I think the meatloaf is burning," Anne said coldly, and went into the kitchen.

She came back and served them silently at the table, making no excuse for the simplicity of the meal. A stony silence had fallen on all of them and Pru broke it only to comment meekly on Anne's good cooking.

She knows I'm angry at her, Anne thought, and decided to remain angry. It was convenient to be angry at Pru. It gave Anne a good excuse to see Beth. But she also needed the anger, because it shielded her against the growing fondness which she seemed unable to deny. Yes, Pru was family. Anne had never met anyone, not even Beth, so completely like herself.

She looked at them while they ate. They both seemed somewhat like little children who had been scolded before dinner. Jacques was perhaps suffering more than Pru.

Anne's silence had made him insecure and he knew he was in the way. He was eating nervously, trying to hurry through the meal. Pru on the other hand was quiet, but still ate with the wholesome and all-devouring appetite. When she had cleaned her plate and finished all the bread she looked up and stretched and said, "Shall I run down and get ice cream?"

"I guess so," Anne shrugged, damning Pru's self-confidence.

But Jacques interrupted her. "No thanks," he said, "I have to get back. I told Peter I'd be in.”

"Peter?" Pru questioned.

"A boy I met last night." Jacques shifted uneasily, almost as if he were bluffing. He turned to Pru and seriously said, "I want to thank you and Alice for inviting me. I was a bit wary of that kitchen in Alice's apartment. I don't think I can even boil water."

Anne had to laugh. "It's all right, Jonathan. Come over again. I'll teach you."

"Thanks," Jacques said. He rose nervously and hesitated, then went to the closet for his coat.

Pru got up too and went to help him. "Please do come again," she said.

He nodded gratefully and then looked at Anne. "Well, good night, Alice."

Pru walked him to the head of the stairs and watched him leave. "He's very nice," she said when he had gone.

"He's a crazy mixed-up kid," Anne said dryly.

"We all are at first," Pru responded and stood, looking at her, studying her face.

Anne shifted uneasily on the bed. I'm being viciously mean tonight, she thought and felt a little sorry. "You think I'm mixed up too," she said.

"Yes," Pru smiled, still with that sad and all-wise look that made her eyes seem so kind. "I haven't put anything over on you, Anne," she said, more seriously. "I didn't want to tell you of my date with Esther because I wanted to give her a chance to behave differently with you. If she hadn't called to confirm Sunday night it might have meant that she had changed, her mind, that she felt serious about you."

"I guess you're right," Anne said. "You're always so right." But she was angry and silent. She did not want to be right. She wanted to be angry.

"You're still angry," Pru said, going to her. "Is it really about Esther?"

"No," Anne said, turning away. The room seemed stuffy now, constricting. She did not want to look at Pru.

Pru sighed and went to pour coffee. She came back with cup for Anne.

"It'll keep us awake," Anne said, looking at the cup blandly.

"We're going to stay awake," Pru said. She held the until Anne took it.

"If we stay up late we'll be too tired to enjoy Thanksgiving," Anne said, looking at her cup.

"I'm afraid we'll have to chance that," Pru said. She determined. "I'm going to make a speech, Anne, and then you can go."

"Go?" Anne looked up, surprised. The word frightened her.

"Yes. You want to go, don't you?" Pru asked.

Anne did not answer. She had the feeling Pru was scolding her. It helped her to stay angry.

"What an angry young woman," Pru said. "You don't need any excuse to leave me. You might just tell me you want to see Beth."

Anne looked at her, surprised and upset. Pru had seen through her mood.