Chapter 15
When Pete went to work the next day, he said he would tell Larry right away. Pete always kept his promises, so Gwen was happy.
She hummed as she raced about the house. She packed the linens in cartons they had kept in the basement. She did the washing, and hung it out in the sunshine.
"In a few days, in a few days," she sang happily to herself. "In a few more days!" They would move out, leave this terrible place and these horrible people, and never, never have to go to another "party" like the ones she had experienced.
Larry Crawford would understand. Of course he would, thought Gwen. He was a sophisticated man-of-the-world. He must know Isobel was a lesbian. He would sympathize with Gwen's wish to leave.
Where would they live? Gwen let her mind roam delightedly over the prospects. There had been some nice homes in the city. One had been only a block from a grade school, and two blocks from a shopping center. Something like that would be good.
Once Pete was away from Karen, he would forget her, Gwen felt. He was just fascinated by her, he didn't really love Karen. Once away, he would remember their plans for children, and the life they wanted. Picnics in the country on Sunday afternoon. Concerts in town on Saturday evenings. Plays. A few parties with good friends; nice parties, said Gwen firmly to herself. No sex orgies.
Pete came home early, at four-thirty. He looked weary and nervous, Gwen thought, as she met him at the door. She gazed at him anxiously.
"Did you tell him? What did he say?"
Pete nodded slowly. "I told him. He said he was surprised and disappointed. He wants us to think it over, not do anything hasty. He wants to talk to us this weekend."
"Oh Pete-" She felt a chill of fear. Larry could be so persuasive.
"I told him it was definite. We've made up our minds. I don't want my wife to be a a lesbian-" Pete seemed to choke over the word.
"Oh. What did-"
"I walked out of the office. I went to a real estate dealer and talked to him. He thinks we can make a trade, our house for one in town. He didn't think it would need to cost too awful much. So I told him to go ahead and start looking. He's going to phone me this evening."
Relief made her sag. "Oh! Oh, that's fine," she said weakly. "Oh, Pete, if we can just get away soon-"
"Yeah. Well guess we might as well start packing." He looked around, helplessly, at the living room.
"I did start. I packed the linens, and I put some clothes in the trunk."
He gave her an odd stricken glance that made her pause. Didn't he want to go?
"Already? Well sure. We might as well. I uh I'll get a shower. Feel like a dog. Awfully hot today." He went heavily up the stairs.
Gwen went downstairs to the basement and brought up several more cartons. She shut out doubts and fears as she worked. She had a deep suspicion that Pete was really reluctant to move, that he would back out of the move if she showed any signs of weakening.
"But I won't weaken!" Gwen thought. "I've got to get away from Isobel! And I'm going to rescue Pete from Karen!"
When Pete came down again, he helped her willingly. They packed some of the china from the kitchen, leaving only enough to use the next few days. Then they paused for dinner.
Gwen couldn't keep from speculating eagerly on what the real estate dealer might suggest.
"Remember that darling split-level near the school, Pete? Do you suppose that it's still for sale? That would be too much to hope for, I guess. Or that two-story red brick that was so pretty. They had roses in the yard, remember?"
"Yeah. That was a pretty one. Had a garage with space for my tools."
"Oh, yes. It did!" Gwen beamed at him in relief. It was the first sign of real interest he had shown. "What time is he going to call?"
Pete shifted restlessly in his chair. "He didn't say. I suppose it takes time to find out everything."
"Oh, sure. I wonder this is Friday. I wonder if he could find something so we could move next week."
He was silent, staring down at his plate.
Gwen tried to be quiet. She knew she sounded too eager. But she was eager. She could hardly endure this house another day. It held bad memories for her of seeing Karen naked that day, of making love with Isobel in the bedroom, of lying awake nights alone while Pete slept on the couch. She wanted to be done with this house forever. She wanted to start fresh with Pete, start over, with no bad memories to haunt them.
After supper and dishes, Pete and Gwen started packing again.
"I didn't know we had so much stuff," Pete growled, as he made a third trip down the stairs with a heavy carton.
"It doesn't look like much till we move," Gwen said.
"What in the world it's true!" said Karen Marshall's husky voice.
Pete dropped the carton with a thud. Gwen whirled around to see the angry red-haired woman in the living room. She had evidently walked in the open front door. Her blonde balding husband stood behind her, blinking at the obvious disorder.
"Of all the crazy stunts!" Karen exploded. "Larry phoned me and said you were thinking of moving! My God, here you are moving out! What's got into you kids?"
Gwen drew herself up. "I think that's our business," she said, no longer concealing her dislike of Karen.
"Oh, really! Miss High-and-Mighty! Too good for our games!" Karen taunted her furiously. The green eyes narrowed with rage. Her cheeks were as red as her hair. Floyd gazed from his wife, to Gwen, to Pete, back to his wife, his shy blue eyes blinking rapidly.
"That isn't it," said Pete. "We we feel we must go. Gwen is-"
Gwen cut in. She had no intention of confiding in Karen. "We have good reasons for going. And we are going! That's all!"
"Now, Gwen. I was just going to explain-" Pete tried to say.
Gwen swung on him. "It's none of her business!" she blazed, her cheeks warm.
Pete gazed at her, that aloof look in his black eyes once more.
Karen went over to Pete and leaned against him. Gwen watched with helpless wrath.
"Oh, Pete, honey, you don't really mean it." Karen's voice was meltingly soft. "Tell me you don't really want to go. I know you don't want to." A long look passed between them that made Gwen seethe with fury.
"No," said Pete quietly. "But we must go. I'll miss you."
Gwen, out of the corner of her eye, saw the jerk of Floyd's short body. But Karen's husband uttered no sound.
"Don't go," said Karen. Her hands closed on Pete's bare arm. He had rolled up his sleeves to work. Her long slender fingers closed on the tanned arm. The black hairs stood out against her creamy skin.
"We've thought it over." Pete's voice was hoarse.
She smiled up at him. "You haven't talked it over with me," she suggested. The red tip of her tongue darted out between her red lips. Pete gazed at her face as though he could never look away.
Gwen felt turned to stone. This brazen woman used every dirty trick in and out of the book, she thought.
"No," Pete agreed. "We haven't."
"We could talk about it," Karen murmured. "Let's do talk, Pete." Gently she urged him to the door.
Gwen regained her voice. "Pete! No!" she cried sharply. "We we have to pack! The dealer he's going to call!"
"Tell him to call back later," said Pete. "We have to talk about this."
Karen smiled. "We could go for a ride, and discuss it," she said sweetly. "A little trip, Pete. Just you and me." She reached up and kissed his ear in a nibbling kiss. Gwen saw the shudder go through Pete's body. "Pack a couple things, Pete, honey. I'll meet you out front in the car. We'll have a good time, Pete."
"Yes," he said. "Yes!"
"Oh, no!" cried Gwen, in anguish.
He didn't seem to hear her. Karen laughed softly, and ran out the door. Pete raced upstairs.
Gwen turned to Floyd. "Stop them! Can't you stop them?" she yelled.
The sad blue eyes met hers, then flickered away. "No, I guess not," he said.
"He's leaving me!" she cried.
"He'll come back. They always come back," said Floyd's sad, shy voice. The plump face quivered, then set in a stony blank look. He and Gwen waited tensely.
Pete raced downstairs. He carried a small kitbag and his jacket. He ran past Gwen as though he didn't even see her.
"Pete!" She reached out to grab him, but he was gone. "Pete! Come back! Pete!"
She followed him to the door. She saw him run out the walk and to the street. Karen was waiting in her car. He got in. Gwen heard her laugh as they started off. She gazed incredulously as the convertible roared down the street, turned a corner, and was gone.
Floyd had followed her outdoors. She turned to him.
"They're gone," she said stupidly. "They left! Pete left me!"
"Hell come back," said Floyd. He walked slowly across the grass toward his own house. She saw him go in and shut the door.
The phone was ringing. Gwen went inside and answered. It was the real estate dealer.
"May I speak to Pete Anderson?" he asked.
"Pete's gone," Gwen told him heavily.
"I've found a house I think you'll like, Mrs. Anderson," the brightly professional voice went on. "I can show you the house tomorrow morning. Pete said you were anxious to move."
"Yes, yes," said Gwen. "I'm anxious to move." She felt numb and unreal. A trance-like state seemed to grip her.
"Shall I pick you up about ten tomorrow morning?" asked the dealer.
"Yes. That will be fine."
She hung up after making the arrangements. She sat down on the couch and waited for Pete to come back. She waited, and waited.
Ten o'clock came, eleven, twelve. Pete did not return.
Finally she realized he was not coming back that night. She went to bed, and slept as one drugged. She felt as though she were in a nightmare of unreabty.
The next day, the dealer came. He was visibly surprised that Pete was not there. But he drove Gwen to see the house he had found.
It was a lovely two-story brick house, with a garage.
"There's a place for Pete's tools," said Gwen. Her voice broke. She was afraid she was going to cry.
The dealer looked at her anxiously. He was a nice, middle-aged man, and he probably had a big family, she thought. Would she ever have a big famby? Would Pete ever come back to her?
The dealer took her home. She promised to consult Pete and let the dealer know soon if they wanted the house.
"If I knew on Monday," he told her, "I could make the arrangements right away. This house will probably sell fast."
"I'll let you know," said Gwen.
She went in the house and saw the cartons waiting to be packed, the couch pulled out from the wall, the china in its boxes, and she began to cry.
Pete might never come back to her at all! That red-haired woman had taken him away by a snap of her fingers! Pete must not love her, thought Gwen, or he would never have left her like that. All her world had come down around her.