Chapter 14

Pete was late coming home that evening. Gwen had time for a long soaking bath that helped relieve the soreness of her limbs. But she was still bruised and shaken by the experience.

She curled up on the couch and waited for Pete. If he didn't listen to her, if he didn't believe her, she would go out of her mind. She shivered convulsively in the still dry heat of the room, and drew up her legs to hug them in her arms.

Pete finally came at half-past-six. He carried his jacket over his arm, and looked wilted and worn from the day.

He saw Gwen waiting for him.

"I know I'm late," he growled. "So don't jump all over me."

Tears stung her eyes. Had they quarreled so much that Pete expected only anger from her?

"I won't jump. I can't," she said, choking a little. "Oh, Pete, I've had a horrible day. Just horrible."

He sat down in the big chair, sprawling out. He gazed at her with cautious concern. "Why? What happened? Did the washing machine break down?"

"No. Nothing like that. I I went to see Isobel." She looked down at her loose robe. Now that the time for confession had come, she felt very nervous. "Pete, I've been doing something awful. But I'm very sorry. I never want to do it again. I I've been been making love with

Isobel."

She dared look up. Her fingers pulled at her dress. She licked her dry lips.

"Making love with Isobel?" Pete asked finally. "What in hell-"

"I mean it. She she made advances, and I

I was lonely and blue. I thought she loved she liked me. I thought she wanted to comfort me."

"Lesbian relations?" Pete croaked hoarsely. "You mean-"

She nodded miserably. "I'll never do it again, I swear, Pete! Today I went over to her house-"

"I don't want to hear about it!" he barked, his voice unexpectedly loud. She looked up at him timidly. His face was red, his black eyes startled.

"Pete, I have to tell you! Don was there. He they-"

She thought for a moment Pete would dash away. But he stayed. She stammered out all that had happened, their laughter, the way they had forced her.

"I I couldn't get away, Pete. I I didn't try very hard," she confessed. "You see, I've experienced such things and they they have a terrible fascination ... Oh, Pete, I'm afraid I I liked what they did. Even though I hate it! Oh, I can't explain-"

He groaned. He rubbed his face with his hands. "Yes, I can understand that," he said, finally. "Hate and want all at once. Oh, gosh, Gwen, we're in an awful mess."

To her relief he came over to the couch and took her in his arms. She cried on his shoulder in her relief.

"I'm afraid to stay here," she sobbed. "I don't want to be a a lesbian. Oh, Pete, I want to be normal!"

"I know, honey, I know. Don't cry." He petted and soothed her. "I never knew it was going this far. I swear I didn't."

"Me neither. I should have told you that first day."

"And she-Isobel she's a lesbian."

"I guess so. I mean, she does things with men. But she-likes women best, she said so. And she

she knows just how to handle a woman. Oh, Pete!" Gwen wailed. "I feel unclean!"

"It's too bad, it's awful," he muttered.

She cuddled closer to him. "Pete, honey, couldn't we move away? Couldn't we start over somewhere else?"

He stiffened. She put her arm around his neck.

"I know it will cost a lot. But Pete, if I stay-"

"It'll cost a horrible amount. But I'm worried about Larry. What will he say? He's my boss!"

"Can't you just tell him the truth? He knows the crowd. I'll bet he even knows about Isobel."

"Web maybe-"

She followed up rapidly. "Tell him we really like the crowd. It's just I can't be a lesbian. Tell him tell him we're planning to have a baby soon."

"I wouldn't want to lie about it," Pete protested. His arms lay loosely about her. She had a cold, aching, frightened feeling when he didn't agree with her.

"Oh, we must leave," she said. "I can't stay here. Pete, I don't want to become a lesbian, too! Please, Pete! Let's go away."

He was quiet for a while. She cuddled closer, hoping her nearness and her pleas would move him. She was desperate for his promise. She had a strong conviction he did not want to move away from Karen. But she must convince him, somehow.

"How many times have you and Isobel-" he asked finally.

She told him, in a stifled voice.

"Oh! Well gosh this isn't the kind of life we wanted, is it?" He sounded unhappy and weary. She dared not look at his face. "And you, you enjoyed it?"

"In a way," she admitted. "She's very clever with her hands and kisses. She knows just how to touch-"

"Don't tell me any more!" he interrupted hastily. He pushed her away from him, and stood up. She watched him anxiously as he paced the room. She couldn't guess what he was thinking as he paused at the front window.

Finally he swung around to face her, but his expression was unreadable. "I'll try to explain tactfully to Larry," he said. "We'll move. Just as soon as I can sell this house and find another in town. Okay?"

"Okay, darling," she breathed. She would have kissed him, but he seemed unapproachable just then. "I I can start packing right away."

"There shouldn't be any trouble finding a buyer. It's a good location." His voice was wistful.

She ignored that. "No, there shouldn't be any trouble. And there were houses in town, Pete. Nice houses, near schools and shopping centers," she said eagerly.

"Yeah. Well, I think I'll get a shower before supper." He went on upstairs.

She hurried to fix the meal, her heart feeling lighter. Pete had agreed, and he wouldn't back down. They were leaving, leaving, leaving this whole rotten crowd! She hummed happily and she prepared supper.

Pete was strangely quiet all through supper. She caught him glancing at her several times in a troubled, aloof manner. Was he regretting Karen?

Or or had he been badly upset about the lesbian episodes? Gwen sobered as she tried to analyze Pete's reactions. Yes, he had gone over and over that part. He had wanted to know her attitude. He had asked how many times she and Isobel had made love.

Did Pete think she had already become a lesbian? Oh, surely not! she protested to herself. She had told him she wanted to move away. She had convinced him of her desire to leave Isobel and never see her again.

She was relieved when Pete came up to bed with her that night. Tired as she was, sore as her body was, she would have welcomed his embrace. She put on her pretty yellow nightgown and climbed into her side of the bed.

Pete didn't move toward her. He lay quite still.

"Pete, honey?" she murmured. She touched his chest. He was wearing pajamas tonight, and that surprised her.

He stirred. "Sure, Gwen. What is it?"

"Do you want to make love?" It was the first time she had ever asked him. She blushed at her own daring.

"I expect you're tired," he said, making no move toward her. "Go to sleep, honey." His tone was kind, but distant.

She felt rebuffed. She rolled over to her side facing him. "Pete, hold me," she suggested softly.

His arms came out and he cradled her, and drew her close to him. She came with relief, and curled up against him.

She would have been happy, except for the faint nagging worry that it was not concern for her that kept Pete from making love to her.

She lay quietly in his arms, and soon went to sleep, her cheek against his chest. She heard the steady, even pounding of his heart, and it was reassuring.