blame her, too, but I don't any more. It's all she's ever known."
"And your father?"
"He was a magician. He made himself disappear."
"How do you manage to stay in school?"
"I work summers."
"Where?"
"In the Catskills."
"Waiting on tables?"
"Sort of."
"You must make out pretty well," Peggy said. "Guess you have to work hard and save every penny you get your hands on."
"I do."
Peggy suddenly felt sorry for Helen. She had so much, so very much, and Helen had so very little. Helen had her love, all of her love, but that wasn't enough. A girl had to have money, money for clothes and tuition and just plain living.
"There's something I ought to tell you," Peggy said.
"Yes?"
"I have some money if you ever need it."
They were in their room, undressed except for bras and panties, and Helen was sitting on the bed. She looked up, smiling, and her eyes flowed over the lines of Peggy's lush body.
"Thanks. I don't need it right now, but I might have to ask you later."
"All right."
"You heard about Thelma raising the rent?"
All of the other girls called her Mrs. Reid, but lately Peggy had noticed that Helen was using the woman's first name.
"No, I didn't. I didn't hear about her raising the rent."
"Another seven a week."
"That's a lot."
"It is for some of the girls. And not only that, she's really going to pack them in here. Jerry says she's going to have steam pipes run up to the attic and she's going to open that up for more space. Sixteen other girls, he says. Can you imagine? What does she want to do, retire at a young age?"
"She's not so young," Peggy said.
"Well, she's not old. She isn't forty yet, not by a long shot, and they say life just starts when you get to be forty. I wonder if it does?"
"I don't know."
The look in Helen's eyes was soft and warm.
"Life has started for us already," Helen said, reaching in back to unsnap her bra. "I can't imagine what living would be like if we weren't rooming together."
"Neither can I."
"But we've got to be careful. I forget and keep holding your hand in the hall. I shouldn't do that. It's all right for some girls to do it but with us it seems important."
"What would they say if they ever found out?"
Helen shrugged. "I don't know. Kick us out of school, maybe. Or laugh at us. That would be the worst, laughing at us. People, the ones who think they're normal, just don't understand."
Peggy looked down at the figure of the girl on the bed, the half-naked body which she knew so well. Helen was lovely, lovely, simply beyond the wonders of anything she had ever dreamed.
"You have to feel sorry for them," Peggy said. "You see the girls and the boys, making fools out of themselves—like Evelyn and her getting pregnant—and you feel sorry for them. Or I do, anyway. I ask myself what they find that is good and I know that it can't be much—not the way we have it."
"No," Helen agreed.
"That's why I want to help you if I can. That's what we're for, what we mean to each other."
"Yes."
"What I have is yours and what you have is mine. Isn't that the way you think of it?"
Helen yawned and stretched.
"I think of it all the time like that." Her breasts were alive and tilted. "You know I do."
Peggy felt an overpowering urge to be honest, to let Helen know that she really could do things for her. That would be only right, only fair. She avoided the word "love" when she thought of their relationship, but she recognized that it held as much, or more, than that. Love was the term usually used by boys and girls, but their feelings for each other had gone far beyond that. This was a pinnacle, this was madness, delightful and wonderful, madness which filled her with a new and enduring beauty. A madness which permitted her to know the true glory of her own body, to experience to the fullest the richness of living.
"I haven't told you about my father," Peggy said.
Helen yawned and lay down on the bed.
"No, you haven't."
"He's very rich."
"I knew that he must be."
"Why?"
"I
"And your father?"
"He was a magician. He made himself disappear."
"How do you manage to stay in school?"
"I work summers."
"Where?"
"In the Catskills."
"Waiting on tables?"
"Sort of."
"You must make out pretty well," Peggy said. "Guess you have to work hard and save every penny you get your hands on."
"I do."
Peggy suddenly felt sorry for Helen. She had so much, so very much, and Helen had so very little. Helen had her love, all of her love, but that wasn't enough. A girl had to have money, money for clothes and tuition and just plain living.
"There's something I ought to tell you," Peggy said.
"Yes?"
"I have some money if you ever need it."
They were in their room, undressed except for bras and panties, and Helen was sitting on the bed. She looked up, smiling, and her eyes flowed over the lines of Peggy's lush body.
"Thanks. I don't need it right now, but I might have to ask you later."
"All right."
"You heard about Thelma raising the rent?"
All of the other girls called her Mrs. Reid, but lately Peggy had noticed that Helen was using the woman's first name.
"No, I didn't. I didn't hear about her raising the rent."
"Another seven a week."
"That's a lot."
"It is for some of the girls. And not only that, she's really going to pack them in here. Jerry says she's going to have steam pipes run up to the attic and she's going to open that up for more space. Sixteen other girls, he says. Can you imagine? What does she want to do, retire at a young age?"
"She's not so young," Peggy said.
"Well, she's not old. She isn't forty yet, not by a long shot, and they say life just starts when you get to be forty. I wonder if it does?"
"I don't know."
The look in Helen's eyes was soft and warm.
"Life has started for us already," Helen said, reaching in back to unsnap her bra. "I can't imagine what living would be like if we weren't rooming together."
"Neither can I."
"But we've got to be careful. I forget and keep holding your hand in the hall. I shouldn't do that. It's all right for some girls to do it but with us it seems important."
"What would they say if they ever found out?"
Helen shrugged. "I don't know. Kick us out of school, maybe. Or laugh at us. That would be the worst, laughing at us. People, the ones who think they're normal, just don't understand."
Peggy looked down at the figure of the girl on the bed, the half-naked body which she knew so well. Helen was lovely, lovely, simply beyond the wonders of anything she had ever dreamed.
"You have to feel sorry for them," Peggy said. "You see the girls and the boys, making fools out of themselves—like Evelyn and her getting pregnant—and you feel sorry for them. Or I do, anyway. I ask myself what they find that is good and I know that it can't be much—not the way we have it."
"No," Helen agreed.
"That's why I want to help you if I can. That's what we're for, what we mean to each other."
"Yes."
"What I have is yours and what you have is mine. Isn't that the way you think of it?"
Helen yawned and stretched.
"I think of it all the time like that." Her breasts were alive and tilted. "You know I do."
Peggy felt an overpowering urge to be honest, to let Helen know that she really could do things for her. That would be only right, only fair. She avoided the word "love" when she thought of their relationship, but she recognized that it held as much, or more, than that. Love was the term usually used by boys and girls, but their feelings for each other had gone far beyond that. This was a pinnacle, this was madness, delightful and wonderful, madness which filled her with a new and enduring beauty. A madness which permitted her to know the true glory of her own body, to experience to the fullest the richness of living.
"I haven't told you about my father," Peggy said.
Helen yawned and lay down on the bed.
"No, you haven't."
"He's very rich."
"I knew that he must be."
"Why?"
"I
Similar Books
