Read Online Come and Join the Dance by Joyce Johnson - Free Book Online Page B

back to the apartment?” Kay was silent. “Maybe I won’t go back at all.”
    â€œOh, you’ll go back,” she said.
    â€œDo you think you’ll get the fellowship, Peter?” Anthony asked.
    â€œI might stand a good chance, if I had more time to fill out the application.”
    â€œThere’s enough time,” Kay said.
    â€œFive o’clock—three hours.”
    â€œWell, hurry up, man. Come on. Someone get the waitress.” Anthony stood up.
    â€œGod!” Peter said. “If I could only get out of New York, out of that hole I’m in. You can get good cheap apartments at Harvard. I’d throw everything out, buy new furniture … ”
    â€œYou should give a big party before you go,” said Anthony. “With a jazz band.”
    â€œYes. A final disaster!” Peter agreed excitedly. “Will you come?” He spoke suddenly to Susan, forcing her to look at him.
    â€œI’ll be in Paris,” she said. He was sitting next to her and had stretched his arm along the back of the booth. An arm in a blue shirt sleeve. She resented it fiercely.
    â€œCome to my party. Don’t go to Paris. Conditions are bad all over.”
    â€œIs it any different at Harvard?”
    â€œThat’s very good,” Peter said. “It’s too bad you’re always so quiet.”
    â€œI’m just well brought up.” She wished he’d stop looking at her.
    â€œShe’s a poopsie,” said Anthony. “But I’m going to reform her. I’m going to make her wild and strange.”
    â€œAnd what will you do with her then?” Peter asked. He put his hand on her shoulder—anyone might have done that, she thought. Kay was frowning darkly over the menu.
    â€œI’ll make love to her. Listen, she’s nice. She bought me breakfast.”
    â€œI don’t like to be talked about,” Susan protested.
    â€œNo?” said Peter. “I think you love it.”
    â€œIt’s really very dull,” she said helplessly.
    â€œBut you do love it.”
    â€œI wonder where the waitress is,” Kay said, carefully propping the menu between the salt and pepper shakers. She gave Susan and Peter a sad, dazed stare.
    â€œKay,” Susan said, “Anthony and I are going to the Frick Museum.”
    â€œYou’ll see my nun there.”
    â€œWhy don’t you come with us?” Susan felt as if she were talking to a stranger.
    Kay shook her head. “I like to be alone when I go to a museum.”
    â€œWhat do you do when you’re alone?” Peter demanded. “What are your secrets, Kay?”
    â€œI won’t tell you my secrets,” she said quietly.
    â€œThat’s right,” said Anthony. “Don’t tell Peter anything.”
    Peter laughed harshly. “You are all against me.”
    â€œThat’s not true!” Kay cried. “That’s not true!” She almost stood up, as if she wanted to rush over to him and protect him from everything with the softness of her body, but she didn’t even touch his hand. Everyone was silent. Peter drummed absently on the table.
    The waitress came and said, “What’ll it be?”
    â€œCoffee! Coffee!” Peter sounded as if he were invoking a deity. Kay’s face was impenetrable again.
    â€œPeter,” Susan said coldly, “why must you know people’s secrets?” It was true that they were all against him, she thought. He was the enemy, with his reckless, disinterested probing.
    Peter didn’t answer her at first. He picked up a spoon and weighed it in the palm of his hand. “Because I have none of my own,” he said finally. For a moment she doubted him, but he wasn’t performing now; she almost wished he were. “I even keep a record of my dreams,” he added. “Typewritten. Very impressive. That’s my one great project. When I die, I’ll bequeath it to the