Chapter 10
Charlotte Stowe sat in the comfortable Swedish modern chair facing Boland's desk, her neat legs crossed, her tasteful summer dress showing just enough of her knee that Boland could not say it was deliberate. She seemed somehow changed, softer, less bitchy, less nervous. He'd heard the bell in the outer office ring a full ten minutes before her appointment time and when he'd opened the door to his office for her, there had been no cigarette butts in the ashtray.
Even now, her hands were folded calmly in her lap, the only traces of movement being a gentle rise and fall of her breasts and a slight flexing of the ankle of her right foot. "All right, Mr. Boland," she said, "and who is to be my next case? The results were strictly positive with Joel, so I assume I've passed my test with flying colors."
"Who said there'd be another case?"
"A girl can hope, can't she?"
"What about your husband?"
"I got a nice long letter from him. He's still in Darkest Africa. He sent me a sort of carte blanche. You see, he's taken up with a Swedish girl working on the picture. She's a script girl. Married herself, and Stockholm is a long ways distant. So, we've become quite civilized about the whole thing. Besides, I liked that business with Joel. He was considerate and appreciative and I think I can see why you get such a kick out of helping people."
"Maybe you should be looking for someone to take your husband's place."
"Maybe I'm not ready to face that yet."
"I'm not running a dating bureau, Charlotte."
She gave him a bold challenging smile. "You said that; I didn't. I simply want to know who my next case is. It wouldn't by any chance be you, would it?"
"Absolutely not!"
Again, she smiled. "You're actually becoming defensive about it, Mr. Boland. Perhaps my time will come, after all."
"I think I've got something for you," he said, knowing his heart was beating wildly now at the thought of her. But it wouldn't do. He had to try making things work with Lilly. There was too much between them to abandon or allow to go fallow by forgetting. "A patient of mine is about forty. Essentially, he's a very creative person. The only problem is, his wife treats him like a slob. She has him convinced his taste in clothing is awful, his manners atrocious, his habits miserable. Amongst other things, she has the poor guy taking three showers a day and on the rare night when they make love, he has to go through a routine of bathing and lotions that would make you sick."
"Sounds like she's the one who should be seeing you, not him."
"Precisely," Boland said. "It's something I've hoped for."
"Now what's this man's name and where am I going to meet him?"
This proposed an interesting problem for Boland, one he quickly resolved. "His name is Christopher Wonder and you'll meet him-you'll meet him-at my home."
"Your home?"
"Yes, I think it's high time all my patients met."
"I'm going to be sort of on my own with Mr. Wonder, aren't I?"
"It won't be as easy getting him to bed as it was with Joel Steele, but I think you'll enjoy the challenge."
"Also," she said archly, "I'll get a chance to meet my competition."
"Oh, you mean Alice, his wife?"
"No, Lilly, your wife."
It was, so far as Boland knew, a violation of protocol to have patients know each other. But on the other hand, he'd read with great enthusiasm the results of group therapy classes in local prisons, mental hospitals and in situations where patients could not afford the luxury of private therapy. Besides, many of his patients needed the assurance that they could handle themselves well in groups. Plus that, there was the fact that two of his patients were girls, both virgins at the age of twenty-six and seven respectively. Things had gone well enough with Joel Steele to give the open house a try.
To Boland's great surprise, Lilly was an eager helper, working with the maid on canapes, punches, dips and a buffet table. She was so helpful that Boland found himself being pleased with her and, the night before the open house, when they touched in bed, Boland found himself inflamed with a desire for her that surprised him. It happened quickly and compellingly.
"Do you really mean it, Ed?" she said.
And he reached for her breasts, feeling them warm and lively in his hands. Then came the tingling excitement and the hope that he could want her often enough to make a difference. Perhaps he was able to forget her unfaithfulness with the life guard, or the more recent one with a bartender. He believed he could help, that was the important thing. She lay waiting eagerly for him and when their bodies merged, he had the feeling of goodness and hope that they could solve their problems, that whatever it was that troubled Lilly, it would vanish and leave them with nothing but happiness, or at least problems that could be coped without in the open.
The difference this time, as all the times Boland felt this freedom with her, was her tenderness, her quality of giving to him, imparting love. However temporal a thing it was, they seized on it and merged with a slow, steady plunging of loins. When satisfaction came to them, they still clung together, regretting it had passed so quickly. Lilly fell asleep almost immediately, but Boland, for the first time in over two weeks, actually held her close to him, cradling her in his arms, trying to figure out what was wrong between them, why they could not always be like this, so close and meaningful to each other. Surely there was more to it than Lilly's inability to conceive a child. They hadn't really been trying that long. The doctor had told them he saw no problem. There was no reason why they couldn't have children. There was something more to it. Something Boland wanted over with and quickly.
It was not until late the next evening, when his patients, the guests, began to arrive, that he experienced another pang of understanding. It explained to him his sudden ardor and passion for Lilly.
He knew it the moment he saw Christopher and Alice Wonder appear. Christopher's scrubbed, oiled appearance reminded Boland of the surprise the nearly handsome man had in store for him. A ripe, sensual surprise in the person of Charlotte Stowe.
Charlotte arrived fifteen minutes later, dressed in a black silk dress modeled on the Oriental split skirt models of Hong Kong. Her neckline was a low, daring scoop, filled partially with an inset of antique green and white brocade. Although the gown was daring, there was no questioning its good taste, nor Charlotte Stowe's ability to bring off the long slashes in each side of the skirt, slashes that revealed her long, attractive legs.
At once, Boland experienced a gnawing jealousy and it surprised him. What was he doing, playing games like that with himself? He was jealous of what Christopher Wonder would be getting shortly. It was then he realized the significance of his passion for Lilly the previous night. Already, he saw Lilly hovering over Hermy Kilgallen, a muscular man in his thirties, afflicted with the male version of nymphomania. The man was closer to revealing homosexual feelings than he realized. Hermy Kilgallen was a big, handsome, attractive satyr and Lilly was virtually drinking it in.
Watching the two of them, Boland knew for certain the significance of his passion for her the night before. It was to keep him away from the thing he wanted most, the thing he dare not take-Charlotte Stowe.
The party progressed nicely and according to plan. At first, the patients milled about, somewhat defensively until the maid appeared with a large tray of drinks and a huge bowl of punch. FM music was piped into the den and the patio outdoors. The alcohol did its work and inside of an hour, there were little groups, gay chatter and occasional bursts of raucous laughter.
Lilly, whether intentionally or not, vied with Charlotte Stowe for attention as she moved about busily playing hostess. Boland noticed Hermy Kilgallen lick his lips and follow doggedly.
He tried to close his eyes to the inevitable, but later on toward sundown, when he entered a group where Hermy stood smoking and listening, he saw Kilgallen nervously stamp out his cigarette and move away. It didn't take much to figure that move. Odds were two to one Kilgallen would cancel his next appointment and he vague about making another. He'd pay his monthly bill and that would be the end of it, so far as Boland was concerned-and the beginning so far as Lilly was concerned.
At one point in the evening he even decided on a drastic technique. He pulled Lilly aside. "I just thought I'd give you a run down on that Kilgallen fellow. Might help you get a line on him. He's trying desperately to prove he's not a homosexual."
Lilly's brows arched.
"It's true. And how do men do that? They become sexual athletes. They become the epitome of masculinity. Next thing you know, Hermy will invite everyone over to his garage to see his hunting trophies. Hell of it is, he's a nice, steady guy."
But Boland realized almost immediately his strategy was going to backfire. Several times he saw Lilly paying close attention to Hermy Kilgallen, and he knew, beyond any doubt that they would meet, more likely than not in Kilgallen's garage, where he kept his hunting trophies. There, on a large zebra skin couch Kilgallen had spoken of so many times to Boland, Lilly would disrobe and contrast the bronzed hue of her body, moving eagerly to accept a man no less eager than she.
Boland tried to close the sight out of his mind, but it persisted painfully.
"It's going like a charm, lover," Charlotte Stowe said, moving up quietly next to him. "The natives are really getting restless."
Boland felt wave after wave of desire sweep over him. It was difficult to imagine a woman could be any more sensual, as she would be with no clothing on. "What's happened so far?"
"Well, I threw a good scare into her right off the bat."
Boland scanned the room for Alice Wonder and saw her, nervously participating in a conversation with an engineer, a patient of Boland's who was merely taking a comprehensive battery of personality and vocational tests.
"Not her, lover," Charlotte said cattily. "I meant your wife."
He spun on her. "Listen, you've got to cut this out, Charlotte. Otherwise, everything's off and you're on your own."
"Think twice before you make threats. Then I'll have all that extra time-and energy to concentrate on you."
In spite of his agony at the realization that he and Lilly were being driven apart by something he absolutely could not understand, he had to marvel at the way Charlotte attacked the problem of Chris and Alice Wonder.
Very deftly, she cornered Chris and asked him to help her load her plate from the buffet. "It all looks so good," she said, "but this is the time for a man's judgment."
Alice, watching to make sure her husband's manners were proper, volunteered a suggestion as Christopher Wonder nervously took up a spoon of potato salad. "Not that, silly, it's fattening." Charlotte smiled at Alice-her best catty smile. "Not for all of us, dear," she said. "Thanks, I will have the potato salad. It's so nice to have a man doing the choosing."
When Chris Wonder handed Charlotte a filled plate, she smiled at Alice. "Quite a man you've got there. I hope you take good care of him. They're terribly scarce, you know."
"He-he's a good provider," Alice said grudgingly.
"I shouldn't wonder," Charlotte continued. "He's the rugged male type. Always difficult to keep them down. Chris, I'll bet you like to putter around in your work ship, don't you?"
"I don't have a workshop," he said wistfully. "I keep a little drawer of tools in the kitchen."
Alice could not believe her ears. She did not want to believe the possibility of double entendre in any of Charlotte's flattery, but as Charlotte pressed on, Alice became defensive, then protective.
Boland, staying close at hand to hear the progress and, he admitted ruefully, to keep his own jealousy down to a minimum, was delighted at the results. Alice tried several methods of discrediting Charlotte. But Alice, a very status-conscious woman, quickly became convinced that Charlotte had social standing and was thus to be admired and envied. It was Charlotte's final gambit that nearly caused Boland to laugh aloud.
"I must have you to dinner next week when I entertain," she said, directing her attention squarely at Chris. "It's Thursday. I'm having a few attorneys and people in politics. You'll be the perfect compliment to them and it will mean so much, having an active male about, now that my husband's in Africa. You'll be doing me a great favor, Chris. And of course, you must bring your little wife along with you."
Chris Wonder's face was radiant as he accepted.
Boland handed Charlotte a glass of champagne and whispered into her ear. "You were marvelous, but you didn't have to go as far as that dinner business, Charlotte. Thanks. Unh, from the looks of things, I'll bet we can count a success already."
Charlotte faced him boldly, her eyes blazing with amusement. "I take it that means you don't want me to go to bed with him."
"Do you think it will be necessary?"
"For me, something is necessary. Something nice. And he is nice. I think a scare like that would really do old Alice in."
"From the looks of things, everything's fine."
Charlotte smiled at him. "Ed, you really don't want me to follow through. You're jealous. Admit it, Ed. It's the truth."
"You're imagining things."
"I certainly am, Ed. I'm imagining what you'd be like, the same way you've probably imagined about me. You're the therapist, all right, and I'll give you your due. But don't forget women have hidden antennas. Especially hot pants bitches like me."
"You're not a hot pants bitch. You happen to be in your sexual prime and need a man."
"Do I hear any offers?"
"You're being absurd."
"I'll tell you what, Ed. Tomorrow's Saturday. Can you get out of the house for the afternoon?"
"I don't think so. Lilly has something planned."
"Nevertheless, I'll keep the hours from three until eight opened. Meet me somewhere. Have a few drinks with me. Take me for a walk along the beach. If I can't get you to take me to bed by eight, I promise I'll leave you alone and consider my lesson learned. That's fair enough isn't it?"
"I told you so, I think Lilly has something planned."
"You know the number, Ed, and I'll be there waiting. Frankly, I think it's a good offer." She spun away from him and moved across the floor, an attention-commanding vision of sensual loveliness. Her immediate target was Christopher Wonder. Within another five minutes, Boland could see the transformation come over his patient. He was convinced now that Charlotte was really being sincere in her enthusiasm for him. For the first time Boland could remember, he saw an aggressive look of sexual expectation in the meek man's face.
By ten, the party was in full swing and Boland was shocked when he realized how very quickly his prediction about Lilly had come to fruition. From his vantage point where he talked to the two girls, still virgins, and three other men, he saw Hermy Kilgallen exchange a meaningful glance with Lilly, then hitch at his tie and start across the room.
"Great party, Ed, but I'm going to have to be shoving off. Leaving for the desert to do some hunting tomorrow and I want to get an early start." He shook Boland's hand a bit too enthusiastically and failed to look him in the face as he made for the door. There was another brief exchange, a glance at Lilly, then he was gone out the front door.
Boland felt his insides begin to gnaw. Protectively, he made his way to Lilly, engaging her in conversation. It was a kind of desperate idleness, lasting well over fifteen minutes. When he saw Lilly steal a covert glance at her watch, he knew beyond a doubt that she'd made some plan to see Hermy later that night.
Desperate, he wanted to give her every chance, to do everything he could think of to make things work. If he could only understand-Casually, he slid his arm about her shoulders. "You've been doing great as a hostess. I'm proud of you."
Lilly nodded abstractedly.
"And you look so damned sexy in that gown."
"Charlotte's is nicer."
"More formal. I like yours. You get me when you wear stripes like that. Look, how's about a date for later? Upstairs. Last night was so great, how about a repeat performance?"
She was still distant and abstract. "I don't know, Ed. Let's wait and see."
"Honey, I just want to make sure, that's all. When we've got something good going, let's try to hang onto it."
Irritably, Lilly moved away from him. "I said I'd see," she virtually spat at him. "Now you've still got guests here. Let's take care of them."
Fifteen minutes later, while Boland was buttonholed by one of the virgins, he noticed Lilly move stealthily back toward the kitchen door, and he knew something had begun he could no longer stop. Slowly and by small degrees, his marriage was eroding and he, the marriage counselor, was unable to do anything to stop it.
He took a glass of champagne and downed it, then excused himself from the group. He walked through the kitchen and out onto the path that led toward the small dressing room in back of the swimming pool. From the other side of the yard, he heard the music from the FM radio, being piped out to a few dancing couples.
Pausing to remove his shoes, Boland moved along the path to the rear of the small dressing shack. A small light burned and as he moved closer, he heard muffled voices. There was no doubt in his mind to whom they belonged, his wife and Hermy Kilgallen.
It was weird, crazy and compulsive, but he knew he must do nothing to stop this. This one time was inconsequential. One more blow to his ego, one more pang of grief. But perhaps if he listened closely, he could hear something that would give him a clue, something that would help him save the tattered remains of his marriage. Or was it worth saving?
The sounds from the shed became distinct as he moved close to the small vent. "Wow, what a body you've got," Hermy Kilgallen said.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Lilly hissed. "You've been looking at me all evening. Get on with it, will you. I can't stand it any more. Get on with it?"
"Wow, no wonder Ed can be so sure of himself, knowing he's got something like you. Talk about a lucky guy?"
"Did you come here to talk about Ed or make love to me?"
"You know why I'm here."
"Then get on with it."
"There, what do you call this?"
"Oh, oh yes, that's more like it. Over here now. Come lay down beside me. Oh, yes. Let me hold you. Oh, my, that's wonderful. Be careful. Now! Now! Yes, yes, that's it."
"Oh, man, what a body."
Then there was a series of grunts, low moanings from Lilly that Boland knew so well. The creaky springs in the old sofa began to clatter and Lilly's moaning took on a savage, rhythmic cadence.
Abruptly, Lilly cried out, long and loudly.
"I'm sorry," Hermy said. "It isn't usually that quick. I was too excited."
"It doesn't matter."
"Was it all right for you?"
"Of course it was."
"But it happened so fast."
"It happened," Lilly whispered. "That's all that matters, isn't it?"
"Listen, we've got to do this again."
"We'll have to hurry. I can't stay away too lone."
"You mean now? Oh, Baby, that's more than I bargained for. I was thinking about tomorrow-and other times."
"Yes, there'll be other times. Can you do any thing now?"
"Not just yet. We just finished. Give me a chance."
"Here, let me help you."
"Hey. Hey, you really like your loving, don't you ? Hey, you really know all the tricks. No wonder Boland's so calm and sure all the time. And I'll bet he doesn't miss a thing, does he? You've got a lot going, Lilly. Enough for two, easy."
"Yes," Lilly said, "enough for two, easy." Here now, you're ready. Come closer. Over here. No, not like that. This way. Do it this way. Yes! Oh, yes, that's right."
Boland turned away at the sound of the groaning and the springs buckling and moaning again. It was too much. No matter what he'd been listening for, he'd heard too much-and the answers were too few.
It wasn't love Lilly was after. It was something else. Something he couldn't handle by himself. Something he wondered if anyone could handle. He wandered back to the kitchen in a daze, found his shoes and slipped into them. Inside, he headed for the bar and poured himself a stiff drink.
Charlotte Stowe was at his elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Is there something wrong? Is there something I can do?"
"No!" he said, nearly shouting it. "There's nothing you can do."
Charlotte smiled at him. It was a maddening smile, filled with a confidence that disturbed him. "Mind you, Ed, I'm not making any guesses about what's disturbing you, but there's one thing I will predict. You'll call me tomorrow afternoon.
I'd stake my life on it now." She patted him affectionately on the cheek and, once again, moved away from him with a sensual flounce of her skirt. Boland found himself staring at the haunting momentary vision of her fine long legs, surprised that the thought of them seemed to blot out all his grief and misery.