“Of course. I'm sure something will work out—in a few weeks.”
“And you will give me money? Fifty dollars?”
I said, “Yes, I told you that.”
“And you will stay here?” Lee asked, staring at me blankly.
“Oh, no. You don't understand. I'll pay your rent, give you some money each week until you're settled and...”
“You promise fifty dollars.”
“Yes, fifty dollars,” I said, all mixed up.
She stood up slowly, making me aware of her supple body. She knocked the ash from her cigarette on the floor, came over to me. It was a novelty to be able to look into a girl's eyes—not have to look down at her. She drawled, “Honey, you have a place?”
I nodded and the heavy sweaty odor of her was like a sickeningly thick perfume.
“Then Lee go with you. Why you pay money here and for your own rooms?”
“No. Wait—don't get me wrong, I'm doing this as Hank's friend—and as your friend. You don't have to... I mean, my God this is all...”
“Honey, I want to go with you,” Lee said and put her face close to mine. She closed her eyes and pouted her lips to be kissed—all a childish mixture of the worst corny acting I'd ever seen.
She stood like that for a second, then I put my arms around her hard shoulders, kissed her fiercely, and the very physical bigness of her made me feel like a kid. It seemed as if I'd never wanted a woman as much as I wanted her.
We walked into the bedroom. (And I wouldn't have been too surprised if she had carried me in there.) The bed was a frightful mess: the sheets almost gray, shoe marks and crumbs all over the bed, and stains and other marks I didn't dare think about. I was about to tell her we could go to my apartment, but she stripped quickly and there wasn't any time for words.
Later, I insisted we go to my place—the dirty bed was beginning to worry me by then. Lee didn't say anything. She put on her dress and while I got into my clothes, she went through the rooms, picking up little packages and things from under a bureau scarf, out of drawers. She shoved these packages into a large leather pocketbook, stood by the door, waiting for me. I handed her a sweater—to cover the tattoo on her arm—and we went out. She never even locked the door.
In the cab I thought I heard the rattle of coins in her bag—a great many coins—but it didn't mean anything to me.
She glanced casually around my house, didn't make any comment. I took great delight in giving her a bath, took a shower myself, and we went to bed.
I'd never call Lee a passionate woman, but she certainly was extremely capable.
Chapter 4
I AWOKE AT nine the next morning and had to rush. Lee was sprawled across the bed, sleeping heavily, and she certainly was the largest and best-shaped woman I'd ever seen. I dressed and showered quickly, and the sight of this Amazon in my bed pleased me. Without thinking it out very much, I was impressed with my own cleverness—I was keeping Lee with her own money!
I left a note that I'd be home by six, told her where to shop, and put a five-dollar bill beside the note. I took a cab to the office, didn't have time to stop for my scratch sheet or even breakfast. I felt in top spirits.
Shortly before noon I called the house, but there wasn't any answer. I supposed Lee was out shopping for supper. Joe lunched with me, was full of chatter about the television set Walt had bought, and what a sharp character the kid was. “Believe me, Georgie, that kid has something on the ball. Army was the best thing in the world for him. Why he even hit the daily double Saturday—only paid thirty-four bucks, but that's some picking: He's looking the package-store deal over carefully. Seems not all these liquor stores are making dough. And he's going to school—one night a week—Columbia. Taking an extension course in the principles of merchandising, so he can run his store right. And you should see the dolls he has up to the house. Fact is, I'm spending most of my nights in the Turkish baths. Kid wants me to share his dolls, but I don't think that's right. Although some of them are real fine sex-boats. How about going to the baths with me tonight?”
“Sorry, I'm busy.”
Joe gave me a shrewd look. “Oh—Flo back again?”
I shook my head. “Another girl. Talk about sex-boats, this one's a whole fleet.” I called for the check.
Joe looked at me pop-eyed. “Tell poppa all about...”
“Some other time, perhaps,” I said, as the waiter came over.
During the afternoon I kept thinking about the way I'd left her sprawled across the bed. I was too restless to work, so I told Harvey I had a headache, took off. I called the house again and there wasn't any answer.
I took a cab to her place on 29th Street. She had left the door unlocked and I went in. The place was so dirty and smelled so badly, I nearly gave up. I wondered if Lee had been too grief-stricken to do any housework, although she hadn't been too deep in sorrow to sleep with me. As I looked around the apartment I was nearly overcome with a feeling of guilt: with poor Hank dead a month I already had his money and his wife. But it wasn't any of my doing—he had given me the money—to hold—and Lee had been the one to volunteer herself.
There wasn't much in the flat, the furniture scratched and stained. I went through her closet and drawers, gathered her clothes. (There were a few suits—Hank's no doubt—that gave me quite a start.) I took whatever clothes she had that weren't too dirty or torn. She didn't have much, there wasn't a decent pair of stockings, for instance, nor did I see any heavy or winter coats. I made a bundle of her stinking clothes and as I started out of the apartment, I almost walked into a little rat-faced man standing in the hallway. He had on work clothes and nodded at the stuff in my arms, asked, “What you doing here, mister?”
His voice was mild and squeaky, but when I tried to walk past him, he blocked the way, said, “I'm the super of the house. They—she—owes rent... last month.”
“I'm not sure Mrs. Conroy wants to keep the apartment any longer.”
He pushed back his battered felt hat, rubbed his thin hair.
“Have to talk to the agent about that. They—she—has a lease.”
I rested the clothes on the stairway railing, pulled a ten-dollar bill out of my pocket. “Look, if you don't hear from Mrs. Conroy within the next week, evict her. And forget you ever saw me.” I slipped him the ten.
He hesitated a moment, pocketed the bill. “You her brother?”
“No. I'm a friend of the Conroys. All this has been a severe shock to her, naturally, and Mrs. Conroy may leave the city. But forget you saw me.”
“It's okay with me, mister. But the agent will want last month's rent and you can't break a lease by...”
“Stop it. Clean and paint the place, fix up the furniture a little, and the agent will get a couple hundred under the table—again, like he did from the Conroys. But remember, wait a week, in case Mrs. Conroy changes her mind.”
As I went down the stairs I heard him mumble. “Okay with me, but them people sure caused us plenty trouble...”