Allie laughed. "Then half the girls at the prom should have signed complaints against their dates. I mean, there's attempted rape and then there's attempted rape." "I can't see much difference."
Allie took a bite of toast. Swallowed. Now who should lighten up? Next they'd be discussing the social ramifications of date rape. "Well, maybe you're right, but it was the consequence of teenage hormones, and a long time ago."
Hedra shot a frantic glance at the wall clock, as if suddenly remembering there was such a thing as measurable time. "Golly, almost eight-thirty. I am working today. Gonna be a receptionist for a while at a place over on Fifth Avenue. I better shower and dress." She stood up and placed her dishes in the sink, carefully not clinking them too hard against the porcelain. "You are done with the bathroom, aren't you?" "Sure. All yours."
"I'll do my dishes when I get home," Hedra said. "Yours, too, if you want."
"I'll take care of them this time," Allie said. "I'm coming home around noon to do some computer work."
"I won't be here… home till this evening." Hedra yanked the sash of her robe tight around her thin waist and carefully tied it in a bow, though she was on her way to the shower.
She paused in the kitchen doorway and turned to look at Allie. "I think this is gonna work out just great, you and me. No, I don't just think it, I'm positive of it!" She was like an enthused ingenue in a movie.
Allie put down her half-eaten crescent of toast and started to agree, but Hedra was already gone. Deferential ghost of a girl, wanting to be somewhere else.
She has a real problem with her shyness, Allie thought. A shame, because she wouldn't be nearly as unattractive as she seemed to believe, if she'd learn to dress effectively and use makeup to advantage.
But maybe she fancied herself the intellectual type. Those boxes she'd had brought in might have been stuffed with books. Or maybe, looking and acting as she did, she attracted the sort of men she liked. Who knew about men? Joan Collins? Madonna? Not Allie. Goddamn you, Sam!
Hedra was humming what sounded like a hymn in the shower when Allie left to meet Mayfair.
9
HEDRA said, "I envy you, Allie. I mean, your looks, your clothes, guys always calling and leaving messages on your answering machine." "My answering machine?"
Hedra looked away from Allie's gaze. "I can't help hearing you check for messages now and then. I'm sorry, Allie, I don't mean to be nosy."
In the two weeks since Hedra had moved in, this was one of the few evenings they were spending together in the apartment. It was storming outside, and the wind was slamming sheets of rain against the window, rattling the panes. Hedra was sitting in the small wing chair next to a lamp. She'd been reading a mystery novel, something with "death" in the title, while Allie was slumped on the sofa, idly watching the "Mac-Neil/Lehrer News Hour." Hedra traded paperbacks at a second-hand bookshop, she said. She had a small and ever-changing collection of dogeared mysteries lined up on her bedroom windowsill. The fear on her pale young face prompted a pang of pity in Allie.
"Listen, I know you're not nosy," Allie said. "Two people in the same apartment, we're gonna know something about each other's lives. No way around it. I suppose we'll have to trust one another. And what's this about my social life? You've been out with someone at least five times in the past two weeks." Which was not only true but a conservative estimate. Each time, Hedra had gotten dressed up, even combed her mousy brown hair to fall below her shoulders, and left to meet her date before dinner. She'd explained to Allie that this way he wouldn't attract the neighbors' suspicions by picking her up at the apartment. Allie appreciated her discretion, though she didn't think it necessary to carry it to that extreme. What was this guy going to do, hop out of a limo with a bouquet of roses in each hand?
Wind and rain crashed at the window, as if determined to get inside. Gentle Jim Lehrer was lobbing kindly, probing questions at an Alabama prosecuting attorney who thought an island penal colony should be established off the U.S coast to incarcerate hardcore criminals. Lehrer was making comparisons to Devil's Island while the prosecuting attorney was talking about a land east of Eden.
Hedra settled back in her chair and closed the novel. She fidgeted with it so violently Allie thought the lurid cover might tear. "Truth is, Allie, I haven't really been going out on dates. I got a job working nights, typing reports at a company over near Lincoln Center."
Huh? The girl could surprise. "Then how come you lied to me?"
Hedra dropped the novel; she jerked when it thumped on the floor, but she didn't bother to pick it up. "I was jealous of you, I guess. The way you're so assertive and active and all. I didn't want you to think I was some wallflower wimp, so when I took the temporary night job, I decided to tell you I was going out to meet a man instead of a typewriter."
"There was no reason to lie," Allie assured her. "I don't consider you any kind of wimp, Hedra. And your private life's none of my business."
Hedra blushed; it was obvious even in the yellow lamplight. The wind drummed rain against the window. Sounded as if the storm had claws and was clambering to get in. "There's another reason I said I was meeting a man. I didn't want you to think… you know."
Allie didn't know. Not at first. Then she laughed. "I never doubted your sexual preference, Hedra, or I wouldn't have chosen you for a roommate."
Squirming in her chair, Hedra said, "It's just that I have trouble meeting men, while you seem to have trouble holding them off. Oh, I mean, I can see why. You have such confidence and style and all."
Allie was getting tired of Hedra's unabashed admiration that bordered on idolatry. It was the one thing in their otherwise smooth relationship that bothered her. "Hell, I'm no beauty contest winner, Hedra. Not even a runner-up." "Beauty comes from inside," Hedra said solemnly.
What could Allie say to that? So does a fart? From the corner of her eye she saw that Lehrer was talking with the U.S. Attorney General now. What would the Administration think about resurrecting Devil's Island American style? Well, it was a possibility. She stood up from the sofa. "It's a crummy night outside. I'm gonna make a cup of tea. You want one?" "Yes, please. No-wait, I'll help you." "No you won't. Stay put."
The command had come out sharper than Allie intended. The subdued roommate sank back into her chair and seemed prepared to stay in that position for days.
In the kitchen, Allie Med two cups with water, placed them in the microwave, and set the timer for three minutes.
While she was waiting for the water to boil, she wished again that Hedra would stop idolizing her for what she no doubt considered an outgoing if not downright hedonistic lifestyle. Not that Allie wasn't somewhat complimented by Hedra's open admiration. Who wouldn't be? But at the same time it made her uncomfortable. This wasn't part of the deal. She didn't want to be anyone's big sister.
It was true that word of her and Sam's breakup had gotten around, and unctuous, curly-haired Billy Stothers from Sam's office had phoned her several times for a date. Allie had gone out with him once, to a boring off-Broadway play and then a late dinner and dancing.
Stothers hadn't tried to bed her that night; he was the patient sort. But he bored the hell out of her with his stock, predictable lies, and she was trying to dissuade him, but nicely. Which prompted the spate of messages on her machine. Actually Stothers and Mayfair had been the only men who'd phoned during the past two weeks.
Sam was lurking like a persistent interloper in the far reaches of her mind, always with her. How long would that last?
The microwave timer chirped, and Allie removed the cups and dropped tea bags into them. Waited. Removed the soggy bags and added cream. She carried the two steaming cups into the living room.