Chapter 2
Ramona went straightaway to quit her job at the hamburger grill near Macy's. It didn't take her long, as she'd never liked the position anyway. Her boss was a temperamental Irishman who couldn't live from one day to the next without debating the hellfire out of customers and help alike. One had to be patient and have a bit of the fiery Erin strain to put up with it. As a peace-loving person, Ramona had found her skin quivering with apprehension whenever he went into one of his tirades.
She also took this opportunity to let his grabby son, a student at Bronx College, know just what she thought of his efforts to feel her up behind the counter and in the steam-filled kitchen.
Back at the tiny two-and-a-half room apartment she shared with Deanna, she showered and changed. Such bravery plus her success in landing a new job demanded some type of celebration, she decided. She just had to get out and do something different to congratulate herself, since she was about to start a new and better life. Better? Well, she hoped it would be.
She put on a rose-colored sweater and matching wool skirt, then rummaged through her dresser drawers for the scarf she'd recently purchased to match the outfit. It wasn't in its usual place nor anywhere among her clothes. Deanna must have borrowed it, Ramona thought in exasperation, just as she borrows so many other things.
Wearily, she opened the top drawer of her roommate's dresser. In a tangle of scarves and hankies she found the Japanese silk scarf printed with rose blossoms and green leaves.
Deanna was so messy-she never made her bed or straightened her dresser drawers. She was forever living in the remnants of madcap yesterdays, as she always strewed her things around carelessly before falling into the tangle of her bedclothes in the wee hours of the morning, after her usual late dates.
Ramona didn't know what kind of girl had put up with the effervescent little beauty before they'd met at the restaurant a year ago. Deanna had been a little more familiar with New York than Ramona; however, she'd seen a great deal more of it through the numerous jobs she'd had. A flighty, not-too-bright, but exceedingly attractive girl, she'd had no trouble acquiring jobs or having a very active social life. Her only difficulty had been in maintaining a steady wage-earning position.
Ever since they'd begun to room together the previous summer, Ramona had been doing all the housework. Whenever she'd tried to hint that her friend could help out, the other girl hadn't seemed to give it a second thought; for while Deanna might say she'd begin the very next day, tomorrow never came for her. So, because of her placid nature, Ramona silently continued to take care of the household duties alone.
Now she began to fold the tangled apparel as a matter of habit when suddenly she remembered this was supposed to be her holiday. Deanna could just live with this mess she'd made for another day! Shoving the things back into the drawer, Ramona dislodged a stack of letters and sent them flying through the disarray. Damn it! she swore to herself. Can't even properly hide her love letters!
She gathered them up and was neatly arranging them in an orderly pile when she saw an envelope with her own name on it. Picking it up gingerly, she turned it over in her fingers. It was definitely addressed to her, Ramona Jahn, from some law firm in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Her first thought was, God! Is some tourist suing me for spilling soup on him? The postmark was April 18, so the letter was almost ten days old! And opened! What was Deanna doing opening her mail?
Slamming the drawer shut, she turned to her twin bed and flopped on her stomach to read the letter. Nervously, she pulled the stiff white paper from the envelope and unfolded it.
She could think of no one who'd want to contact her through attorneys, as she had no close friends except Deanna and no relatives since her parents had died, not even any cousins or second cousins that she knew of. But it seemed she did have-or once had-an uncle, for the letter stated that attorneys Billings and Richardson wished to inform Ramona Jahn of the death of her uncle, Rolf Hecht, since she was listed as the sole beneficiary in his last will and testament. They respectfully requested that she reply by letter or in person with proof of her identity so she could legitimately claim the estate of the deceased, whereupon the lawyers would execute the will without further delay.
Uncle? Ramona thought in bewilderment. Rolf Hecht? Should I know him? She was sure both her parents had been only children, and the name Hecht wasn't at all familiar. Her mother's maiden name had been Follansbee. So who- The front door slammed and laughing voices filled the living room. Deanna was lisping coyly, in her high, lilting voice. Why men found that lisp endearing, Ramona would never understand, but their masculine approval was the reason her friend had never bothered to correct it. If anything, she'd tried to perfect it!
"The same old Deanna," said a deep male voice. "You're as cute as ever."
Saumont! Ramona sat bolt upright in the middle of her bed.
"Oh, darling," bubbled Deanna. "Mmmmmmm, tho nithe."
There were loud slurping sounds, and Ramona didn't have to look to know the girl was moaning delightedly over his devouring mouth on hers and the skillful way his hands were traveling over her body. The girls had double-dated on occasion, and besides, Deanna had no qualms about bringing her dates home to bed while Ramona was trying to sleep in a bed not more than four feet away. What a shock it had been to Ramona to awaken that first night to the sound of a squeakily protesting bed and thrashing bodies deep in the throes of orgasm.
Having experienced the ways of Saumont just that morning, Ramona could imagine he and Deanna must make quite a team. Here it was only two-thirty in the afternoon and already he was hot for more sex.
"Oh, darling!" she heard the girl gurgle once more.
Can't she think of anything else to say? Ramona wondered as she sat quietly, mentally counting to fifty. She was a shy, quiet girl, one who said little even when spoken to. People found it easy to take advantage of her, as had Deanna, because she was usually reluctant to cause a disturbance even in her own defense. But, as her mother had once said of her, "she may be slow to anger, but when she does, look out!"
"Yves, you jutht do the wildetht things to me!" Deanna burbled.
"Lead the way, doll, and I'll show you more."
Deanna was giggling, and Ramona could hear the rearranging of clothes as her roommate gaily led her stud to the bedroom. They halted momentarily on the threshold when they saw Ramona on the bed.
"Oh," Deanna said. "I didn't know you were home."
"Got a new job, remember? So I quit the old one and here I am."
"Thatta girl, doll-face!" Saumont cried as he came around Deanna and entered the room. "Start at Exotic Eden tomorrow night, don't you? Don't forget your fittings tomorrow morning at ten."
"I won't, Mister Saumont."
"Yves to you, honey," he told her, coming over to the bed to pat her shoulder. Turning to the young woman in the doorway, he asked, "Didn't you tell her my first name, baby?"
"Oh, Ramona'th all buthineth and profethional," she responded. "Rethpect and dithtance at all times, that'th her motto. She doethn't even believe in a little friendly hanky-pank behind the counter at work, do you, hon?"
"Not really," Ramona answered, still clenching the letter in her fist.
"I keep wondering how she made it with you," the other girl said, flouncing into the room and sprawling seductively on her own bed, her skirt high on her thighs.
"We managed," he told Deanna, joining her on the bed and running his hands over the bared ivory flesh just below the black lace of her panties.
Ramona tried not to look. The petite brunette with whom she roomed was all female animal at times. Sometimes she wondered if the girl did it purposely to shock her puritanical mind. "I hate to disturb you," she said hesitantly. "Oh?" uttered the pretty brunette, obviously too engrossed in exchanging caresses with Yves to care that anyone else was there.
"Not at all," was Saumont's response. "The more the merrier. Want to join us, Ramona? You don't mind, do you, Deanna?"
Deanna was too busy undressing him to mind. "That's not my intention," Ramona said evenly. "Damn, I was afraid of that!" he moaned dramatically.
"This is a serious matter, Mister Saumont!" "Isn't sex?"
"That depends on the participants," she told him edgily.
"Two femmes and an homme," he mused. "That could be spectacular!"
"You've got the wrong second girl for that kind of thing," she said icily.
"Oh, damn, Ramona!" wailed her friend. "You can be a drag at times! If you can't have fun with us, why don't you go on out?"
"Because I was here first," Ramona said, rising from her bed. "I rented this place quite a while ago, and as I recall it, you were without a job or place to sleep when I invited you to stay here till you could find a position. And you took your own good time, I might add-it was three months before you could lower yourself to do waitress work at the grill around the corner."
"Really, hon! Is this the time to start a petty quarrel? What's the matter? Fight with your boss?"
"No. And this isn't petty. But I might say that tampering with the private mail of other people is a grave offense, punishable by law,"
The other girl jerked herself to a sitting position, nearly knocking over Yves, who had been diligently opening her blouse and pulling a plump breast from her sheer brassiere.
"You borrowed something of mine once too often," Ramona informed her, going to the dresser to retrieve her scarf, "and since you're such an untidy housekeeper, it was necessary for me to search for the missing article."
"You went through my drawer?"
"Only for what was rightfully mine. Strange that I found something else of mine, isn't it?" she queried, waving the letter as she paced by the feet of their beds.
"Really, Ramona, I meant to tell you!"
"I'm sure," Ramona returned sarcastically.
"She really did," Yves interjected, coming to Deanna's defense. "It was opened quite by accident. She was in a hurry on her way to see me about the job last week that when the mail came, she shoved it all in her purse to read in the taxi on the way over. She was so excited she tore yours open by mistake."
"Last week this came?" Ramona demanded, shaking the letter at the two conspirators on the bed.
"Honest, Ramona," wailed the other girl, "I was so upset about the mistake I was just trying to get up my courage to tell you."
"Have there been any other letters I haven't received?"
"No. Honest to God!"
"Now calm down, ladies," ordered Yves, getting up from the bed. "It was a harmless mistake. Now everyone knows and all should be forgotten. No one's been hurt by it, so forgive her, Ramona."
"Forgive? But I might never have known!"
"Nonsense. I was going to speak to you about it anyway," he assured her. "After all, what would you want with your uncle's old island off the cold dreary coast of New England."
"You've read the letter too?" cried Ramona. "Everyone seems to know about this but me. And I'm the beneficiary of this will!"
"You really shouldn't get so hot and bothered," Yves said, trying to guide her gently onto the bed. "After all, I'm doing you a favor. I'm offering to buy that dump of an island from you."
"Dump? You've seen it?" she demanded, evading his strong hands. "Who gave you the right? And if you say one more 'after all,' I'll-"
"Deanna, do you have any tranquilizers in the place? I do believe she's overwrought."
"Overwrought?" Ramona fumed. "My mail is private property. My estate from a lost uncle is private property. And some idiot who thinks of nothing but the satiation of his damned sexual hungers wants to buy my island as a favor to me! Why? You don't know anything about me beyond that. . . that screwing you gave me in your office."
"So ... I like you."
"Like me, bullshit!"
"Ramona!" her roommate exclaimed tremulously. "You don't swear!"
"Oh yes I do, when some goddamned assholes get me stirred up enough!"
"But Yves was only trying to be helpful!"
"Like you were, when you said getting this position as a hostess would be so easy?" Ramona yelled. "Sure, he's been helpful. First he practically rapes me and makes me feel like a street slut, then the two of you read my personal mail, check out what I'm heir to, and decide it's not right for me, but grand for you. How in hell would you know what's right when you don't even abide by the laws of the federal government or common decency!"
"All right!" Yves bellowed, taking her by the hand and yanking her into the front room. "So we're such bad people! Come on, I'll call the lawyer and arrange for you to meet him right away and see your island so you can decide for yourself."
He plopped her into a threadbare easy chair by the phone, lifted the receiver to his ear and dialed.
"Hello," he said into the phone after a moment. "I'd like to speak to Mr. Richardson of Billings and Richardson. Yes . . . yes. Just a moment please. I have a client here who wishes to speak to you . . . Miss Ramona Jahn."
He handed her the receiver and watched her with a critical eye as she talked.
"Mister Richardson?" she stammered. "I ... I just received your letter about my uncle's will. Yes, this is Ramona Jahn. When . . . when may I have an appointment? Is tomorrow too soon?"
She looked hesitantly at Saumont, who waved approval. Returning to the phone, she said, "All right, I'll fly to Boston and take a bus from there as soon as possible. I should be there by late tomorrow afternoon. All right. Thank you. Goodbye."
"Well?" asked Yves, waiting with his arms across his chest.
"He said he'd pick me up at the bus station in Portsmouth."
"Fine. Are you satisfied?"
She didn't answer, so he sighed and waved his hands in despair, groaning, "Women!"
She was still somewhat apprehensive and sat there pensively looking at the letter still gripped in her hands. Have to get a ticket on the shuttle flight from Kennedy to Boston and check Boston-to-Portsmouth on bus schedules, she told herself forcefully.
As she lifted the telephone book to her lap to check the yellow pages, she was aware of the resumed activities in the bedroom. The bed was protesting loudly and sounds of their passionate mumblings assailed her ears. She decided to get sortie fresh air and check at the nearest bus station in person rather than by phone.
"Mmmmmm!" Deanna moaned shrilly as Ramona slammed the door behind her.