Stranger On Lesbos Read Free Page B

story trail off, listening. "Hello?"
    "This is Bake. Didn't get you out of bed or anything, did I?"
    "No. Just sitting here talking to some people."
    "Oh, then you're not free to talk."
    "No."
    "Look, suppose I pick you up around nine? I'll take care of the lunch. Wear something durable. We'll look for bittersweet." A burst of music drowned her out. Frances waited. Bake's voice returned, sounding far away and full of laughter. "I'm in Hal Butler's apartment with ten thousand crazy people, mostly looped. Look, baby, I'll see you in the morning. Right?"
    "Right." Frances hung up. "That was a girl in my class at the University," she said, coming back to sit beside Betty but looking at Bill. "I'm going for a drive in the country with some people I know, tomorrow."
    "Do you good," Jack Flanagan said generously. "Hey, Bill, anything left in that pitcher?"
    "Might be a small dividend."
    "How about you, Frances?"
    "Frances doesn't drink," Bill said. "She's a culture vultureShakespeare and the opera."
    "No vices," Betty Flanagan said. She crossed her knees so that her sheath skirt slipped a little higher. Bill poured another drink and leaned across the sofa to hand it to her, flicking a look down her scoop neckline.
    Jack Flanagan said, "Get with it, woman. Bill and I have to get up early and go to Milwaukee tomorrow."
    Betty winked at Frances. "We know what they're going to do in Milwaukee, don't we?"
    "It's a great town," Bill said. "All that beer, all those big busty blondes."
    "Maybe I'll go on your picnic, Fran. Any attractive men?"
    "Just girls. Anyway, there's no room."
    "Aah, nuts."
    Frances was silent. Why did I lie, she asked herself, honestly puzzled. I don't want Betty trailing along, of course. But there's no reason I can't go somewhere with just one girl. No reason at all to feel sowell, illicit. As if I had a secret date with a man.
    She saw the Flanagans to the door, her silence unnoticed in the flurry of good nights, and came back shivering into the warm house.
    "Do you really have to go to Milwaukee tomorrow, Bill?"
    He looked surprised. "Sure, this is a big account. This guy buys all the toys for one of the biggest department stores in town. No telling what time we'll get back."
    She stood on tiptoe to put her arms around his neck. "Remember the first Thanksgiving we had together?"
    "I remember we were damn hard up."
    But not the laughter, or the way we fell into bed when the dishes were done, in the middle of the afternoon, because we couldn't wait. That was the first time I ever reallyShe blinked.
    "Better hit the sack, honey," Bill said. "I'll be upstairs pretty soon."
    He honestly didn't remember.
    Upstairs, she undressed mechanically and put on her pajamas. Then, in a resurgence of hope, she stripped them off and stuffed them into the hamper. From a bottom drawer she took a sheer black nylon nightgown she had never worn, a present from Bill after a recent sales convention. (Guilty conscience? She pushed the thought out of her mind.) A dab of perfume on her arms and bosom and behind her knees, a quick brushing out of her hair, and she was ready. She lay tense, waiting.
    The clock struck one.
    From the foot of the stairs came the rustling of paper and the light scratch of a pen. She blinked furiously. He was down there mapping out his Milwaukee campaign, going over the plans he and Jack Flanagan had made this afternoon, while she lay here ready and waiting. She jumped out of bed.
    From the head of the stairs she could see him, surrounded by catalogues and price lists. "Bill, please come to bed."
    He looked up absently. "In a minute, hon. I'm busy."
    If I were like Betty Flanagan, she thought, I'd go out and get myself another man. As all wives do at times, she tried to imagine herself in a lover's embrace, but the picture refused to take form and she gave it up.
    She sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.
    Darling, she thoughtmentally addressing a younger and more responsive BillI don't want to get ahead in the