“Coffee and a couple of Danish,” Hedra said. “I went out and brought it back from the deli. There’s some left in the kitchen, if you want it.”
“Thanks.”
Hedra didn’t answer. She walked back to her bedroom and returned with an armload of clothes from the closet. Then she draped them over the arm of a chair. Allie couldn’t help thinking the pile of clothes looked as if they were from her closet. Clothes aren’t really as personal as we think, or as distinctive or recognizable. Thousands of this, thousands of that, often tens of thousands, sewn on assembly lines. Unless you were into Paris originals, everyone’s basic black dress was like someone else’s.
Allie said, “You still working at that place over on Fifth Avenue?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there awhile longer,” Hedra said. Allie wasn’t sure she believed her, but Hedra was getting money from somewhere. Maybe she dealt dope; Allie wouldn’t be surprised. Not anymore.
Hedra put down her clock radio on the pile of clothes and looked at Allie. “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you plan on making the rent here alone?”
“I won’t be alone,” Allie told her. “Sam’s going to move back in.”
Hedra nodded. “I kinda thought so.”
There were three firm knocks on the door.
Hedra and Allie exchanged glances. Hedra said, “I’ll stand over where I can’t be seen. No point in giving ourselves away as roommates this late in the game.”
Allie thanked her again. She waited until Hedra had stepped around a corner. Then she yanked the sash of her robe tighter around her waist, walked to the door, and opened it.
Graham Knox stood in the hall.
He had on impossibly baggy pleated black slacks, and his woolly gray sweater with the leather elbow patches. He was so thin he looked lost as a child inside his clothes. His unruly hair was damp and combed more neatly than usual, and he was sporting his lopsided grin. Graham was so obviously glad to see Allie that she felt cheered just looking at him.
She moved in close to the partly opened door and stood so he couldn’t see Hedra’s possessions piled nearby.
He said, “I thought I better drop by and explain about the tickets.”
“Tickets?”
His face sagged like a sad clown’s, then lifted again to hide his hurt. “You know, my play …”
Allie had forgotten he’d promised her free tickets. To … what was it, “Dance” something? “Of course,” she said. “I’ve been waiting, wondering.”
She was sure she hadn’t fooled him, but he obviously appreciated her effort and forgave her. He held out two tickets he’d been squeezing in his right hand. Allie accepted them. They were damp from his perspiration and faintly warm. They felt good between her fingers; a friend’s gift that meant something and required nothing in return other than her presence.
“They’re center orchestra seats for the third performance. By then most of the kinks should be ironed out and the play should go smoothly. I want you and Hedra to see it at its best.”
Without thinking about it, Allie tilted forward on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. It surprised him and surprised her. “Thanks, Graham. Really. I’ll be there. I doubt if Hedra can make it, though.”
He was grinning almost maniacally. “If you have to come alone, that’s okay. Maybe we can go out for some coffee or something after the performance.”
“Maybe,” Allie said. He’d read something into that innocent kiss on the cheek. Too bad. “I’ll be there either way, Graham.”
Inside his baggy clothes, he shifted his weight awkwardly from one leg to the other; he wasn’t a graceful man like Sam. Dear Sam. “I better go down to Goya’s,” Graham said.
“Okay. See you.”
“Drop in sometime when things slow down after the lunch rush. We can talk.”
“I’ll do that. Bye, Graham.” She eased the door closed and heard his faint, retreating footsteps outside in the hall.
When she turned from the door, she found that Hedra had moved back into the living room and was glaring at her. There was an irrational kind of fierceness in her stare that frightened Allie. Hedra had gone into the kitchen and was holding half of a cheese Danish that had become mush in her clenched fist. “He mentioned my name.”
Allie said, “He lives upstairs. He knows we share—shared—the apartment.”
“You told him?”
“No, he saw us together and overheard us talking in the hall one day. He guessed.”
Hedra suddenly noticed she’d mutilated the rest of the Danish. She went into the kitchen to throw it away. Water ran in the sink as she rinsed off her fingers. When she returned she seemed calmer. “So who is this guy?”
“His name’s Graham Knox. He’s a playwright. That was what he wanted to see me about, to give us two free tickets to the off-Broadway production of his play. I told him some time back that I’d go.”
“You meet him often at Goya’s?” What about Sam? was in Hedra’s eyes.
“He’s a waiter there, Hedra. For God’s sake, he’s just a casual acquaintance.”
“But he knows about me being here.”
“He won’t tell anyone. He’s promised. Besides, what difference does it make now?”
“None, I suppose. But do you believe him? I mean, his promise?”
“Yes, I do. Besides, he’s got no reason to inform on us. He’s no friend of the Cody’s management.”
“But what if he tells someone else? I mean, like one of the other tenants?”
Allie couldn’t understand this. “Hedra, why do you care? You’re moving out.”
“I care because I don’t wanna be tracked down by Haller-Davis and told I owe back rent.”
“I doubt if they’d do that.” But Allie wasn’t sure.
“They might, if this Graham guy tells the wrong person.”
“He won’t. He’s promised about that, too. He told me he might need a roommate himself one of these days.” Allie was getting irritated with Hedra’s intense concern over Graham when it wasn’t necessary. “Playwrights and part-time waiters aren’t exactly high-income bracket; he understands the arrangement we had and he approves of it.”
Hedra seemed to think about that. Finally she nodded. “Yeah, I guess I’m getting excited over nothing.” She smoothed her skirt and walked to the window, then gazed down into the street. “Anyway, it’s not life or death.”
Her body straightened and she turned away from the window, starkly silhouetted for a moment in the morning light. “My cab just pulled up downstairs.”
“Want me to throw on some clothes and help you carry this stuff down?” Allie asked.
“Why not?” Hedra said.
Allie made three trips with her and loaded the backseat and the trunk of the cab. Hedra said she’d be back that afternoon for the rest of her things, then slid into the taxi’s front seat alongside the driver. “Good luck, Allie.”
Allie suddenly felt as if she were betraying the trust of a helpless puppy; she told herself Hedra knew how to pull people’s strings, change their perceptions of her almost minute to minute. “Luck to you too, Hedra. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“It did for a while,” Hedra said with a flicker of a smile. She closed the door and waited for Allie to move away before telling the driver her destination. As the cab pulled away, she didn’t look back.
When the cab had been swallowed in traffic, Allie went back upstairs to the apartment.
She ate the Danish Hedra had left and drank a cup of coffee. Then she used the TV’s remote to tune in Donahue and curled up on the sofa. The program was about unreasonable ordinances in the suburbs, laws that said you couldn’t leave your trash can at the curb overnight. Or kiss in public. Or let your cat go outside without a leash and collar. That kind of thing. Donahue was outraged, stalking through the audience with his microphone and wobbling his head. Seeking soul mates or conflict.