Chapter 14

The discussion with Lilly was brief, to the point and mutually unsatisfactory. She hoped the baby would make a difference in their lives. She hoped she could remain faithful to him. She hoped things would work out. She was not willing to go any further with the matter.

"I don't see why not," Boland said. "If we can get to the core of it, we can solve things."

"When we married, Ed, it was for better or worse."

"Is that any reason why we have to keep it worse?"

Lilly gave a vacant smile. "I don't notice you doing things to keep it any better. You know, Ed, you're a fine one to want to talk about my infidelities. There's a generous gob of lipstick on your collar. It's neither the shade I wear nor was it on your collar when you left the house tonight."

"I tried," Boland said miserably. "I tried damned hard not to. Do you think I like it?"

Lilly's smile gave way to mocking laughter. "Now you're beginning to understand the way I feel. You and your precious search for insights. Well, now you've got one." She gave another utterance of laughter. "You know something, Ed? Maybe we ought to take our problems to a marriage counselor?"

A good talk, she'd said. Big deal.

Gayle Herron came to his office, smiling and bubbly over the effect of the smiling experiment. "It worked," she said, "just as you said it would. Some of them looked at me as though I were crazy and one man followed me and became insistent, thinking he knew me. I used your line about being nearsighted. He smiled and offered to buy me a drink. I accepted and it was fun. He's going to call me next week for a real date."

"That's the important thing, Gayle, getting your sea legs, as it were. You keep it up. Now, in the meantime, I want you to start giving me details, background, things we can work with."

It was delightful to see the way Gayle plunged in. From the looks of things, the five dollars an hour she paid him would not break her, even on a two hour a week basis. Still, that meant forty dollars a month, a good dent in a working girl's salary. Gayle went at her problem in a business like way, uncovering one incident in her past that was so painful, it left her shaking with tears. Boland gave her a sip of brandy and complimented her on her bravery.

His next patient was Anabelle Riordan, and from the beginning, it was no contest. Boland neatly parried all her suggestions and moves, and when the hour was nearly at an end, she stood up and smiled. "I'm a stubborn gal, Ed. Just because you've won this time doesn't change things. I won't go all to pieces and feel rejected; I'll just wait for my spot. It will be more difficult for you next time, I'm sure of that."

Watching the entry of his next patient, Boland made up his mind to do something about more men patients. It was, he realized, wistful thinking, like resolving to be stronger-next week.

The girl was Polly Lieber, one of the two girls who was a professional virgin not too long ago. Since her initial contact with sex relations, Polly had frightened Boland. She'd moved from her first experience to Hermy Kilgallen, to several other men with a frightened rapidity. Now, as she sat before him, she began her hour by reporting two weeks of continence. She seemed neither upset by it nor overly proud, taking it in a healthy perspective.

"I think," Polly said, "the time has come to start being a bit more selective. It would be nice to get to know maybe one or two men more intimately. I thought it would be that way with Hermy, but he's only interested in adding notches to his belt, proving something to himself."

"I'm glad you were able to see that," Boland said.

She smiled and crossed her legs. "It came to me after the second time. His greatest joy was when I said yes. He seemed more interested in that than actually making love to me. Now, I think I'll bide my time. I've got my eye on someone interesting. I think it could be fun. I'm still playing it safe, too. You see, he's married."

"Think that's wise, Polly? You could be hurt."

She nodded affirmatively. "There's only one way to find out. As I say, it might not work. I don't know if he's interested."

"There are ways to find that out."

Polly smiled knowingly. "I know."

He was surprised and gratified to see the way Polly had come along. She'd dieted away nearly fifteen unnecessary pounds, giving a slender sensuality to her previously plain face. Her hair was highlighted with a blonde rinse and no longer worn in a severe bun. Her gestures were more certain and she seemed to take pride in exhibiting her neat legs. Without being as attractive as Charlotte Stowe's, they were still pleasant to look at, and with confidence on her side, Polly became striking in her appearance.

Toward the end of her hour, Polly stood up and gathered her things. "There's something I've been wanting to do," she said, moving toward him. "You've given me a great deal. I feel as though I owe a part of my womanhood to you." She leaned forward and kissed him boldly on the lios.

Boland was aware of the pleasant jut of her hanging breasts, the subtle scent of her cologne and the wispy softness of her hair. It was difficult not to be excited, even more difficult to accent her gesture in the spirit in which she'd intended.

She was warm, sincere and frankly frightening.

The next time he saw Anabelle Riordan, it was, once again, strictly no contest. This time, Anabelle won, hands down. Boland felt driven and compelled. He could not resist her sexuality, nor allure. After the first few minutes of the grim contest, he knew his excitement had reached a dangerous level. Desperately, he struggled to keep hold of his emotions. But she smiled at him and deliberately hitched at her skirt. "I like this, Ed. It's not just a quickie. It isn't a contest. I see you fighting with yourself and, dammit, in a way, I hope you'll win. I hope you'll be able to turn me down. But you can't. Not this time. It makes me feel good to know you'll get up and take me in your arms and make love to me. That's something every woman likes to know."

"Not every woman," Ed Boland said. "It would scare the hell out of some."

"Then they're girls, not women. I don't care how old they are. Sex goes with women. It's a part of their make-up."

Boland did exactly as Anabelle predicted. He rose and bridged the distance between them, dropping to his haunches before her and sliding his arms about her legs, kissing the knees and holding her tightly. She ran her hands lovingly through his hair and eased herself forward. Moments later, they sat together on the floor, embracing. Anabelle directed his hands to her bosom and the process was complete. Boland yanked a pillow from the sofa and slid it under her hips. She drew her legs up, making her full skirt look like a tent. Her body arched to receive him. They met with a gasp.

"Whatever it is that troubles you, Honey, take a tip from me. Let this be for joy. Let it be for pleasure." She began a steady movement that caught hold of Boland and bore him along enthusiastically. The act of possession made him intensely aware of her, of how much he needed this sex and excitement. There was something compelling and necessary in this motion of loin to loin, of body to body, and then, of mouth to mouth, probing hungrily until satisfaction was found.

He lay next to her, breathless, wondering how he'd become so entwined in it. He couldn't help himself. It was no longer a matter of being faithful to Lilly. It was no longer even the simple "arrangement" of wanting Charlotte as his mistress. It had gotten completely out of hand. It was entirely a matter of sex, no longer a matter of whim.

A hell of a thing, but he couldn't help it, nor was it any easier to face the fact that his entire working day would have him thrown in close, intimate contact with sex, sex and more sex.

He was able to resist Anabelle Riordan the next time she came in to the office. "I see I'm only going to be able to score every other time," she said. "But I'll be patient."

Boland had to groan. He had neither the courage to tell her no, nor the courage to tell her it would be best for her to seek another therapist.

When he saw Gayle Herron, he found himself fighting the urge. "You've got to get the notion through your head, Gayle, that you can have satisfactory sex relations with men. Your past history should stop and remain in the past."

She smiled at him hopefully. "Are you telling me I'm ready?"

"That's up to you, Gayle. By all means, be with men. If you find one who pleases you, let the inevitable take its course. If it feels right and proper, you'll have won. Let your instincts guide you."

"It would be nice," she said, "if it could be someone like you."

"That's called transference," Boland said. "It's natural you should think that. By the time we've finished, you'll simply look on me as a revered old friend."

Gayle giggled. "What about in the meantime?"

He tried to bring it off lightly. "In the meantime, go find yourself a man."

Boland was not so fortunate with Polly Lieber. Almost immediately, she gave him an unmistakable smile and he knew, beyond a reasonable doubt whom she meant when she alluded to a married man. She meant him. She meant to have him.

He'd come to realize that Polly was dressed for the kill. Instead of her usual skirt and blouse with low heels, she wore a black cocktail dress with wide straps over her attractive shoulders. The neckline was a low cut square.

"You look like you're set for a night on the town," he said by way of greeting.

"You could call it that," Polly said, smiling at him. "There are ways for enjoyment."

The thing that disturbed Boland was something beyond the jaunty cross of her legs or the bold permission in her eyes. This time, it was the way he stood and moved toward her, making the move on his own. "Polly," he said, "you're too attractive to let pass without comment." He knew what he was doing. The fact that it was wrong, that it was part of a losing battle made no difference.

Polly gave her consent almost at once. There were a few formalities. He took her to Ah Fongs in Beverly Hills for a few rum drinks and an order spare ribs. Under the counter, he could feel her thigh brush his. "Finish your drink," he said, the drive of excitement sweeping over him.

"Don't have to," she said. "Shall we go back to your office?"

Boland had her on the couch, the lights blazing light against the milky white highlights of her body. There were no real preliminaries, those had been going on all evening. Polly had very definite ideas about wanting something different and exotic. "After all, if I'm with an expert, why not learn something new."

Boland's mind seemed to flash back to Nola Peddersen and the first of her demands. The thought excited him, even though he knew it would be doing Polly a disservice. She'd romanticize this, make it important. It might influence her sex life to the point where satisfaction to her meant a search for the bizarre. But seeing the readiness of her, he couldn't help himself. The moment their bodies joined, Polly began crying out in a sharp ecstasy that bordered on pain.

The awareness of this frightened Boland and he tried to stop himself. It was comforting to realize that even in the midst of completely compulsive behavior, there was a line over which he would not cross. He turned Polly over onto her back and moved against her, determined to make up in ardor and technique what he'd deprived her in uniqueness.

Their bodies arched and met excitedly and Boland realized just how well Polly had learned. She was accomplished and not lacking in confidence. When the plunging was over, he lay close to her, his arms holding her tightly to him.

"Now I have standards," she said. "Now I really know. Oh, Ed, I used to dream about this. Now that it's come true, I feel real and whole. Please say it can happen again."

Boland looked away. Now that the urgent necessity was gone from him, he could promise anything but that. He could tell himself over and over that this was the last time, that he'd have to start over, that he'd betrayed all his ideals, that his diploma had been all along, nothing more than a license to commit lust and unleash it on all the people with whom he came into contact.