Chapter 2
Twenty minutes later, with dusk settling on the Burnett grounds, the first guests arrived. They were Dale and Kathy Osborne who had never been to Mitch's home before.
They were a handsome couple. Dale had the look of an eager fellow, taking women in his stride as he worked swiftly toward his goal-SUCCESS. Actually, though handsome and charming he had been faithful to Kathy during their three years of marriage, but it hadn't always been easy.
As for Kathy, beauty jockeyed with dignity for her outstanding characteristic. She loved Dale and had eyes for no one else. She was in a new pink summer mini-dress that brought out her youth. She looked younger than her 25 years. Actually Kathy had never realized her great potential. When men complimented her, she thought they were just being nice. She minimized her sex quotient but it was large and effective.
Dale opened the door of the car for her with a low bow. It was a secret ceremony between them dating back to Dale finally acceeding to Kathy's demand that he always open doors for her.
He kissed her hand and she alighted.
She breathed deeply of the lawn and flowers. "Nice, isn't it?" she stated. "But quiet. You sure the party was tonight?"
Dale frowned. "I don't see Irv's car but if it were called off he would have phoned."
They stood there undecided for a moment. Kathy hoped it was called off. She was uneasy about the party, though for no reason. But she loved the house. Someday she hoped Dale and she could have a home like that.
It was a struggle. Dale sold insurance and as yet he didn't sell enough of it.
Dale automatically held Kathy's hand as they walked up to the entrance. It was characteristic of Dale. He leaned on her. He needed her and she loved him very much.
"There's music," Dale pointed out, "so somebody's home."
"Too bad," thought Kathy. Friday nights they usually went to a drive-in theatre. Neither had to get up early the next day. They loved those summer evenings at the drive-in. They necked just like kids. It was exciting. More exciting than being intimate in bed. Sometimes Dale would let his hands roam all over her and she'd pretend to be annoyed or shocked because of the lack of privacy but she enjoyed it.
Just one night she regretted in a way. It was cool weather and there wern't many cars in the drive-in. The picture was dull and they became more interested in each other than in the movie. Dale, damn him, got her panties off no matter how she struggled at first and they made love right on the seat while "Woody The Woodpecker" was singing his crazy song.
She was ashamed of that and she told Dale. But he said if she really didn't want to-really-they wouldn't have. Secretly she admitted to herself it was true.
But when Dale brought it up jokingly from time to time she feigned anger. When she thought about it she was embarrassed. Yet deep down she realized it was thrilling.
Dale couldn't find the bell and used the knocker. He tapped it gently and then using more force, banged it hard several times. He was determined to be heard.
From the outside they heard a woman's voice say quite loudly, "They're here, Mitch."
Dale squeezed Kathy's hand. He hated to do this, he thought. He really did. But he just had to be a SUCCESS. Even if it was just for Kathy's sake. And he did want her to have everything good in life.
Liz opened the door. "Hi," she said. She looked at the couple puzzledly.
Dale took over, "You must be Liz. We're the Osbornes. This is Kathy. I'm Dale."
Liz smiled cordially, "Of course, you're the couple Irv invited. Come in. The others are late as usual."
They walked into a living room tastefully and expensively furnished. It wasn't easy for Liz but in time she got Mitch to move all his heavy, objectionable pieces to his den.
Kathy studied a piece of sculpture. It was modern, multi-colored and she didn't understand it. But she liked it. Dale appraised the furniture at $12,000 which included the grand piano. He was close.
"Sit down," Liz said. "Make yourself at home."
Liz casually looked at Kathy. Liz was always aware that every woman was competitive. She came up with a quick decision, Kathy had a sexual innocence that could drive men mad. She was perceptive enough to understand that a girl like Kathy wouldn't know her own power.
As for Dale, he was handsome, maybe brittle.
"Can I take your coat?" she asked Kathy. Kathy handed it to her. Liz thought to herself while holding the coat, "Forty dollars at the May Company."
"If you want to freshen up, it's through there, in the guest bedroom," Liz motioned to Kathy. But Kathy only shook her head vaguely.
Dale sat and Kathy stood uncertainly.
Mitch's voice bellowed from a hallway, "Where the hell are my shorts?" The voice startled Kathy and she sat down.
"Excuse me," Liz smiled. "Men." Then she called out, "Middle drawer. Next to your T-shirts."
"Are you like that, too?" she asked Dale. "Mitch should have his clothes classified in a filing cabinet like in an office."
Kathy answered for Dale. "Dale is unusual. He's very neat."
Liz shrugged as if it didn't matter one way or the other.
Mitch hollered out again, "I mean the new ones. The ones with the red hearts on them."
Liz, now a martyr, called back, "I said next to the T-shirts."
There was silence then Mitch hollered victoriously, "I got em."
Kathy liked this exchange. There was something homey and warm about it. She felt less fearful now. She felt more secure.
She loved Dale but he was apt to be impulsive, jumping in and out of things faster than she could ever contemplate. He was always a step ahead of her. He was too ambitious. That was it. No, just very ambitous, not too ambitious. She wanted all the luxuries out of life too. It's just that she wasn't that much in a hurry. That was where they were different.
She remembered after their third date he tried to get her into bed, first by sheer logic (to him) and then by trying to get her clothes off. When he failed, he looked at her soberly and summed it up-"Sooner or later we'll have an affair and get married or break up. Why not decide the whole thing right now. Which is it?"
Her answer was the only answer a girl like Kathy could give. "Why does that have to be decided right now? Right this moment? Sure I like you. Give it time. Please."
Soberly he shook her hand, then said, "Too bad. I really like you. Maybe love you. Well, goodbye." He walked out.
She cried all night. She never did know whether he was bluffing or not. Two days later he called her and casually, as if nothing had happened, asked if she'd go to a movie. She was happy to go.
That was Dale. Now he had brought her to this party. He had been mysterious about it, merely saying the people had money and would make excellent contacts for him. She always wanted to help. By the looks of this house Dale was right. There was money here.
Liz prompted her out of her reverie by suggesting she and Dale have a drink. Dale took a Scotch on the rocks and she took a plain ginger ale.
Dale elbowed the bar and drank his drink there. Kathy wandered to the fireplace eyeing the trophies. The largest one of bronze depicting a baseball pitcher tossing a ball was inscribed, 'To Mitch. A great coach. San Fernando Junior Sluggers 1968." She read the inscriptions of several smaller trophies all dealing with Little League activites.
She wondered what kind of man Mitch was. She admired men who gave their time to kids. Her father had been like that. In fact she always quietly believed her father wished she had been a boy. He had three daughters and she was the youngest. She knew both her father and mother prayed for a boy when number three came but along came Kathy. They always said they were happy anyway but Kathy wasn't certain.
Suddenly Kathy wondered why she was thinking of her parents. They lived in the East and she seldom thought of them.
Dale walked over to her with a bottle of Vodka in hand and said, "Let me sweeten it a little for you, honey." He poured until she said alarmedly, "Hey, stop." He laughed and kissed her on the cheek.
She sipped the drink and felt the warmth glow in her middle. "Dale," she thought, "he's always trying to make me high."
She wandered over to a coffee table. Magazines neatly lapped each other in three rows. They were titles she had never heard before, "Swingers Only,"
"Swinging Couples,"
"Switch Partners,"
"Wild Guys and Gals." Most had semi-nude figures on the covers. She wondered why such magazines should be displayed in such a dignified home.
She picked up one of the magazines. Mostly it was filled with personal ads. She read a few of them and she felt her face getting red. "My God," she thought, "do married people really do these things?"
She poked Dale and slipped him the magazine. She hoped surreptitiously. "Look at this," she whispered.
He glanced at it and said, "Swinging, isn't it?" He laughed, she thought nervously.
Liz had walked off to the guest room and now returned.
"Can I mix you a drink?" Dale offered. Something seemed to be bothering her. "Not now," she said.
The telephone rang. She said, "Hello" and then listened. "But can't you get someone else? There must be another babysitter. How many? Well, there's just us and the new couple and Irv and Natalie. Well, try. You know four couples is just right. Will you? Oh, good. Try. Call me." She hung up.
"It was Thelma," she said, explaining. "She and Mike are great kids. They always have babysitter problems. You know sometimes I have E.S.P. about these things. Oh, they were late all right but I just knew something was wrong."
"Yeah," Dale said. "It's like with me. Good things come upon me suddenly and surprise me but before something bad happens I feel depressed as if I know what's coming."
"Oh well," Liz said, "things will work out. They always do."
Mitch marched into the room. "You bet they do," he said with authority. "What do?" He laughed loudly. He was in sports shirt, checkered, red socks and red shorts with a Valentine heart pattern. He seemed totally unaware of Kathy and Dale. "Who in the hell were you talking to on the telephone? What's up?"
Liz frowned at him. "It was Thelma. Put your pants on." She looked at the Osbornes. "Jeez," she thought to herself, "why does he always add a touch of vulgarity to every gathering. I must really love him if I can take that and love him, too." She started to apologize to the Osbornes and then thought better of it.
For the first time Mitch noticed Dale and Kathy. "Well, well," he said heartily, "I'm Mitch." He shook Dale's hand. He looked at Kathy, liked what he saw and said, "Glad you could come."
"Put your pants on," Liz insisted.
Mitch looked down and grinned, "What for?"
Liz apologized to Dale and Kathy. "Sorry kids. My Mitch isn't very couth."
To ease what she thought was a strain, Kathy said, "Those are darling shorts. I've seen men on the beach like that."
"No," Mitch grinned. "Liz is right. I'm not couth. But you see in my business couth is a handicap."
Mitch meant that. Everything he had ever gotten from life he got the hard way from fighting, scratching and even brawling.
Liz now felt sorry for Mitch. "Darling, go put your pants on. That was Thelma. Her baby sitter didn't show but they're trying to get her sister."
"Son of a gun," Mitch said, annoyed, "a typical Friday. You plan all week and something always goes wrong." Then Mitch noticed Dale was holding one of his magazines. The grin returned to his face. "Did you read some of those ads? Wild, wild, I tell you."
Dale asked naively, "Are they on the level?"
"On the level," Mitch said. "I'll say. We just put one in. Want to see an answer we got? With pictures. Fantastic." Mitch dug an envelope from under a trophy stand and held it up. First he handed a photo to Dale, then hesitated. But Mitch was never one to be shy. He handed another photo to Kathy.
Kathy's heart was pounding even before she looked at it. She wanted to refuse to look but she didn't have the guts with Mitch looking at her like that.
She looked and saw two men making love to one woman. She was on her side sandwiched between the two men. It was obvious she was enjoying it. Her mouth was open and her head was thrown back. Each man had hold of one breast.
Mitch studied Kathy as she looked at the photo. "I guess the other woman is the one shooting the picture," he explained. He went on, "You see they say in the letter they are two couples who swing. I'll read you part of it. 'Joe and I are 32 and 28 respectively.
My husband is Scotch-Irish and I'm French and part Cherokee. The other couple are neighbors of ours. It's handy to have neighbors like that. Bill, the dark curly-haired one is powerfully built and I mean all over and I am petite and terribly sensitive. I have long dark hair. We both love music and dancing, bowling and photography. We have a fabulous collection of pictures showing ourselves and friends in action. I have a classic shot of Marjorie, our neighbor, being buggered-I'm sure you know what that is-by Bill. And brother when you get buggered by Bill in the butt with his thing, it hurts. You should see the look on her face."
Liz interrupted, "Mitch will you stop. It's so vulgar. Well, not vulgar but your timing is terrible."
Dale handed the photo he was looking at to Liz, "They really do things like this don't they?" The picture showed a mass of some four or five bodies so entwined it was hard to tell who was doing what to whom.
Liz put the photo on the table without comment and gently took the other picture out of Kathy's hand. Kathy was silent and obviously ill at ease.