Chris (16 page)

"Chris," she said, "I think I understand why you feel this trip is so vital." She paused. "At least, I hope I understand. Anyhow, I know I have to trust you. I believe you love me and that you'll come to me when you can. In the meantime, I guess I'll just have to wait."

Chris reached up and took Carol's hands and kissed first one, then the other. "Thank you," she said. "I hoped you could understand. I don't know how valid it is, but right now Tongariva looks like heaven to me. I have to find out."

Carol returned to her chair. "Honey," she said, "will I be able to see you at all before you leave? It might be a couple of months before you get back."

"Hmm. I know," Chris said. She stopped to think about it. She knew that Dizz would blow her top one way or the other. Chris had promised not to leave her and Dizz would lash her with that promise like a whip. On the other hand, she probably suspected they had gone off together. Her pride alone should make her tell Chris to go. It would be easier if Dizz threw her out. Easier for both of them.

"Ill tell you what I’ll do," Chris said. "I'll have it out with Dizz this afternoon. It has to be sooner or later, so why not now? I'll tell her I'm going to be with you until Thursday and that when we get back, I’ll be living with you."

"She's not going to like that," Carol commented.

"She'll have to. I know what I want," Chris said, "and it's you. I’ll be over sometime tonight." Her jaw was set with determination.

"Chris, darling. Please. Don't say it unless you're sure," Carol said. "I couldn't take it."

"I'll be there tonight," Chris said.

"I believe you," Carol said. "Because I love you."

"It's mutual," Chris said. She leaned forward and kissed Carol on the lips. "I'd better go now. Dizz said she'd be there at noon."

"All right, darling," Carol said. “Tonight." The word held promise of many things. And all of them were good.

Chris left Carol and crept painfully to the great hall. She stopped at the door and leaned her head against the cold wood. Her head was throbbing and her nerves were jangling. She knew she could not take much more.

Johnnie was waiting for her in the station wagon, listening to a ball game on the radio. He shut it off as Chris opened the door.

"What's up, skipper?"

Chris slid into the seat and slammed the door. She stuck out her lower lip and frowned. She did not know how to explain to Johnnie any more than she had known how to put it to Carol.

"I have to take Dizz with me to Tongariva," she said.

“The blonde?"

"Hmm. The blonde. The boss man wants her to keep an eye on me," Chris said sourly. She turned on the bitterness as much to impress herself as Johnnie.

Johnnie turned in the seat and laid his arm along the back. "How about Carol?" he asked.

"I explained it to her," Chris said. "She says she understands. I'm going to try to spend the rest of the week with her, then move in with her when I get back." She knew it didn't sound good. She would have laughed out loud if anybody had said it to her.

"You're going to tell blondie this?" Johnnie said.

"Yes, I'm going to tell blondie this," Chris said.

"Whew!" Johnnie said. He raised two fingers and gripped his nose. “That stinks. You think you've got trouble now. Just wait'll that dame gets through with you." He ran a finger from ear to ear across his throat.

Chris grinned sardonically.

"Look, skipper," Johnnie said, his tone serious and his eyes blacker than black. "I don't give a good damn if your girl blows you away. But I'd be awful angry, my friend, if anything happens to Carol."

Chris elevated an eyebrow. "Oh?" she said.

"Yeah, oh," Johnnie said. "I've got it pretty bad for her."

Chris nodded. She'd known that since she saw them dancing together. Johnnie, the big homely galoot, had given up to Carol without a fight. Johnnie, who'd never had a girl all to himself, had fallen for Carol and would do his best to protect the girl even from the skipper.

"Okay, mate," Chris said. "Let's shove off. By the way, you delivered the car, didn't you?" She'd promised Dizz to leave it at George's hotel.

"Sure."

"Did you find a place to stay?"

"Yeah," Johnnie answered. He was making no attempt to make light of the situation.

Johnnie made a U-turn and headed south on Fifth Avenue.

Chris did not try to break through Johnnie's reserve. He had right on his side and Chris was all too well aware of the fact.

And she knew too that if anything should go wrong this afternoon with Dizz, Johnnie would stand by Carol and help her get over the blow. She did not dare think of failure with Dizz, but it did help to know that Carol had someone to look after her.

"Look, Johnnie," Chris said. "Don't hit me. But do me a favor."

Johnnie glanced at her. "Carol?"

"Yes," Chris said. "Get in touch with her tonight. Just in case anything goes wrong with Dizz."

"I'm warning you, skipper," Johnnie said. "I love that kid."

"Yes, Johnnie, I know," Chris said.

"And I'm warning you something else," Johnnie said. "I'm not going to stand by and let you walk all over this one."

Chris winced at Johnnie's words. They were true, she knew. Until she had met Dizz, Chris had been a carefree, footloose devil. With a graceful ease that could charm the birds off the trees, Chris' life had been a series of one night stands. A whirlwind courtship, promises to be true forever, one lovely night, and off to the next one. And Johnnie, good old Johnnie, was left to pick up the pieces.

Not that Johnnie had ever complained. Envious of the way Chris had with women, he had stood by and watched with awe.

But not this time. Not with Carol. Because this time Johnnie really cared. This time he wasn't just being Chris' buddy. And at the moment he wasn't thinking much of Chris as a person either. That realization hurt Chris deeply.

Chris smiled sadly at Johnnie and nodded. "Okay, mate," she said. "I'll remember that"

Chris unlocked the door and walked into the apartment Johnnie followed her in.

Dizz apparently had not been back to the apartment since she'd left on Saturday morning. It smelled stuffy and closed in.

Johnnie walked across the living room and pushed back the curtains. He opened the French doors. "Nice place you have here," he said. "We like it," Chris said. She went into the kitchen and managed to put up water to boil. She set out two cups and saucers and spoons. She had trouble with the lid on the coffee jar and swore.

When she returned to the living room, Johnnie was looking at a photograph of Dizz on the dresser in Chris' room. Chris heard him whistle.

"That's a good looking chick you've got," Johnnie said, coming into the room and facing Chris. "How do you manage?" He shook his head slowly in renewed admiration. Chris laughed.

Johnnie walked out to the kitchen. "Coffee black?" he said.

"Black."

They sat down together on the couch, drinking coffee and talking and laughing over the good old days.

At one point Chris glanced at her watch. It was after three. Dizz had promised to be home at noon.

"Excuse me," Chris said. "I have to make a call."

She went to the phone and dialed the Dizendorf’s number. She asked for Sheila.

"Why, Chris," Mrs. Dizendorf said. "We haven't seen her all weekend. She said she was going away with you."

Chris did her best to cover up. Mrs. Dizendorf insisted on calling later to check up on Dizz.

Chris turned from the phone, her face a mask.

"What's the matter, skipper?" Johnnie said quietly.

"I'm not sure," Chris said. "But I think I'm being gotten even with." She sat down on the couch. "Dizz is playing games."

"What kind?" Johnnie asked.

"The usual routine. You run around behind my back and I'll run around behind yours." It wasn't a usual routine for Dizz, but why bother Johnnie with her troubles.

"And you still care?"

"Yes," Chris said. "I still care."

For another hour Johnnie did his best to get Chris' mind off Dizz. With the wisdom of a brute, Johnnie knew that Carol wouldn't look at him twice with Chris around. But he wanted Carol to be happy, and if Chris could do it, then Chris was going to do it

But Chris could not turn her thoughts away from Dizz. And she went from worried to scared to just plain furious. She kept an eye on her watch and one ear toward the door.

At four-thirty Chris heard a key in the lock. She was lying on the couch, feet propped up, her shirt open and the bandaged shoulder exposed.

The door opened and Dizz walked into the room. She took one look at Chris and exploded.

"What in the hell happened to you?" she shouted.

"Nothing much," Chris answered. “I’ll tell you later."

Johnnie stretched up to six-three, then bowed from the waist. “Forgive me," he said. "But be good to the skipper. She's pretty beat up."

Dizz looked slowly from Chris to Johnnie and back to Chris. "Who," she said, "or what is that?" Her look was one of open and utter disgust.

"That's Johnnie Murdock," Chris said. "We went to school together. He was good enough to drive me home."

Johnnie shuffled uncomfortably, an alien in an enemy camp. "Well," he said, "I'll be shoving off, skipper."

"Okay, Johnnie," Chris said. "And thanks."

Johnnie went out and closed the door behind him.

Dizz crossed to the sling chair and sat down. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? I told you this would happen." There was no indication in her manner that everything about herself was not just as it should be.

"Save your strength," Chris said. "It's nothing serious."

"What happened?" Dizz obviously did not particularly care what had happened. Her eyes were looking at Chris, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She didn't seem especially pleased with them.

"I got a cramp in my leg and got caught in the undertow," Chris said. She sat up on the edge of the couch and leaned forward, her arms on her knees. She took a deep breath, then jumped in with both feet. "Now, suppose you tell me where you've been."

"At mother's, of course."

"That's not what she says. According to her, you've been away with me," Chris said. "According to her, she hasn't seen you all weekend."

Dizz shrugged. "All right. I've been with George."

"Been where with George?" Chris asked.

"At his hotel," Dizz answered.

"And?"

"And what?" Dizz said.

"Did he make love to you?" Chris asked. She didn't want to hear the answer. She already knew.

"If that's what you call love," Dizz said. She looked as though she were about to be ill.

"He went to bed with you?"

"Yes," Dizz said coldly. "He went to bed with me."

Chris did something she had never believed she could do. She slapped Dizz in the face. Hit her hard. Again and again. And very hard.

Dizz did not try to stop her. She did not wince. She did not cry. She did not even yawn.

Chris grasped her hand and rocked in pain. The fingers were bleeding again. She pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of her slacks and wound it around her fingers. She held the bandaged fingers tight in her other fist.

"Did that help?" Dizz said. Her eyes were icy blue and full of contempt. Her nose was tilted in scorn. And the corners of her mouth were raised in their perpetual smile.

Chris felt sick all over. Sick and tired and like running away. But she couldn't let it drop. She had to drain the situation of every last ugly drop.

"Is that all you have to say?" she asked.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Damn you, Dizz. Why did you do it?" Chris said.

"He asked me to marry him," Dizz said, as though that were excuse enough for anything.

Chris could not get out the question.

"I told him no," Dizz said in a flat tone. "Men are like Lesbians, only worse. I let him kiss me and all he wanted was to get my pants off. I let him do that too. What difference does it make?"

Dizz was talking as much to herself as to Chris. She had been disappointed again. And after disappointment came despair.

"I knew you were taking that girl with you," Dizz went on. "I wanted to hurt you. What difference does it make?"

"Dizz," Chris said, "I love that girl. That's what difference it makes. I love her and I want to live with her. If I hadn't known it before, I'd certainly know it now."

Dizz glanced up for just a second. "You're going to punish me?" she said. "You? How many people have you slept with since we've been living together?"

“They weren't men, Dizz," Chris said. "I told you in the beginning I could take anything but that. I told you if you ever went to bed with a man, I'd never touch you again. That's what makes me sick."

Dizz did not look up. She said in a dull voice, "Leave me then. What difference does it make? I won't die."

Chris stood up. "I'm going to Carol's place," she said.

Dizz looked up at Chris finally, her face wet with tears. She was crying from deep inside, like a hurt child. She tried to speak but the words wouldn't come. She pulled herself from the chair and flung herself against Chris. Chris threw up her arms to ward her off, but too late.

They fell together to the couch. Chris' shoulder hit the wall and she groaned in pain. She fell back limply against the pillows, too agonized to move.

Dizz knelt at her feet, her head in Chris' lap. Her body was shaking with sobs torn from deep within her.

Chris pushed herself forward and bent low over Dizz, smoothing the girl's hair with her hand. "Baby," she crooned, "baby, don't cry."

Dizz looked up into her face. She gasped, trying to choke back the tears.

Chris put her stiff, sore hands under Dizz's arms and lifted her up. She pulled Dizz on top of her and stretched out on the couch. She put her arms around Dizz and held the blonde head close to her own.

"Honey," Dizz stuttered, "I-I-I love you."

Chris felt the tears start in her own eyes and spill over on her cheeks. She hugged Dizz close and buried her face against Dizz's shoulder.

When Dizz could talk again, she poured out her pitiful tale. She had thought Chris was going to run off with Carol, and she had gone to George out of spite. Now she despised him for what had happened.