Chapter 16
Gwen tried to go on packing. But instead of accomplishing anything she found herself moving listlessly from one room to another. There didn't seem to be any reason for packing if Pete changed his mind.
If he returned...
If he decided he loved Karen and wanted to marry her...
Or if he decided they would keep on living here and going to parties-
Gwen felt paralyzed into inaction. She could do nothing till Pete returned and told her his decision.
At noon she made some coffee, and drank cup after cup. It didn't even melt the ice block that was her body. She shivered in the heat of the hot July day. She thought she would never be warm again.
The sound of the front door closing with a thud sent her racing to the living room. She was so certain it must Pete that she stared with blank disbelief at Larry Crawford.
"Hi, Gwen," he said, with false cheeriness. "Thought I'd come over and talk a while."
Her face crumpled up. "Pete's gone," she told him forlornly.
His dark smooth face furrowed with concern. "Yeah, I heard. Say, baby, it's too bad. That Karen's a crazy woman."
"He loves her!" Gwen's voice broke. "Pete loves that woman! He left me!"
"Hey, now, don't cry." Larry came over and took her in his arms. He patted her back while she gulped back sobs. He made soothing noises. "Hey, now. Hey hey. Come and sit down, sweetie. It'll work out. Come on now. It'll be all right."
He drew her over to the couch and sat down with her. She let herself be held and petted, but it didn't seem to help. She didn't want Larry to hold her, she wanted her own man, her own husband, Pete. Finally, she drew away from him and wiped her eyes with her wet handkerchief.
"I'm all right," she told him, with some forced dignity.
"Sure you are. You're fine," he said heartily.
"You're too smart to let something like this throw you. Perk up. Have fun. While the cat's away, the mouse can play. How about that?"
She didn't feel like playing. But Larry was trying to be kind. She was grateful for that.
"Tell you what. We'll throw a party tonight," Larry suggested, after a pause.
"A party?" She winced at the very idea. It was the last thing she wanted.
"Sure. Barbara and I will have the gang over. We won't even miss Pete and Karen. We'll have a great time." He leaned over and kissed Gwen's damp cheek. "You're too sweet to waste," he added softly. He nibbled a series of kisses along her cheek down to her throat. She felt nothing but a numb impatience.
"I don't feel much like a party," said Gwen.
"Oh, you'll enjoy it once we get rolling." Larry was confident and exuberant. "Sure, it's the very thing. Get your mind off your troubles. Music, dancing, drinks, a little fun. And tomorrow Pete will probably be back."
"Tomorrow? Do you think so?" That was the only remark he had made that appealed to her.
"Sure. Pete's got a big deal cooking on Monday. He's too sharp a businessman to stay away. Besides, how much money did he take with him?" Larry looked at her expectantly.
"Money?" Gwen gazed back vaguely. "I don't know."
"Karen's an expensive girl. They probably went to a motel. And drinks she-likes champagne when she's on a kick. The money won't last long. They'll be back tomorrow." Larry seemed cheerfully optimistic.
She let herself be swept into his plans. It was too much effort to resist him. All her thoughts were with Pete. Was he, even now, in bed with Karen? Was he bending naked over that red-haired woman, kissing her creamy tan skin, kissing down to the red hair that covered No! thought Gwen in a frenzy. She must not, must not think of them making love. It would drive her right out of her mind.
Larry dashed off to get party supplies. Gwen sat on the couch, waiting for Pete to come back. She was still sitting there when Barbara arrived at five o'clock.
The tall cool blonde took efficient charge. She encouraged and cajoled Gwen into taking a shower and putting on her blue sheath dress. She locked up the house and put Gwen in the car. She brought Gwen back to the Crawford house for supper, and Larry helped Barbara cover Gwen's silence with animated chatter about nothing.
Gwen realized she should feel grateful to them. But she was not grateful. She wanted to be left alone to brood and wait in stillness for Pete's return. She wanted to prepare herself for the worst if Pete wanted a divorce.
She tried to think how she could plan her life without Pete. But her mind shied away from such a terrifying prospect.
Somehow the hours dragged past. Isobel and Don Hoover arrived. Don mixed drinks till Floyd Marshall came. Gwen was vaguely surprised to see Karen's husband. His face was flushed already from drinking, but he set to work to tend the bar.
Ellie and Jim Roth came, then Nola and Arthur Stowell. Arthur danced with Gwen, and seemed to take Pete and Karen's absence as a personal affront.
"They aren't supposed to do this," he growled in Gwen's ear. "Stupid thing to do. Nobody needs to run off with anybody. What's the matter can't they stand the rest of us?"
She didn't try to answer that. Arthur patted her back clumsily and told her she was a sweet kid.
"A little naive. You just need to sharpen up some. Get rid of the backwoods attitudes, that's all," said Arthur.
The words didn't penetrate her misery.
Don took over smoothly. "Hi, sweetie. Glad you came," he told her, moving her easily around the room. "No sense staying at home and brooding. Why don't you come over and live with Isobel and me till Pete gets back?"
She shivered.
"Are you cold, baby? Let's get away from this window. It's breezy tonight. Bet it's going to rain."
He brought her over to where Isobel was sitting and left her with his wife. Gwen could hardly conceal her repulsion. The incident with Isobel and Don was still very vivid in her mind.
After a while she realized she was not the only nervous person at the party. Floyd was drinking so heavily he was soon incapable of mixing any drinks. He drank his straight from a squat orange-colored bottle. Larry shook his head at Floyd, and propped him in a chair to be comfortable.
Even Isobel seemed on edge. She watched Gwen's face, and jumped when Gwen spoke.
Presently Isobel said softly, "It wasn't what we did, was it, honey? You didn't tell Pete-"
"Yes, I told him," Gwen said dully.
"Oops, I bet that was a goof." Isobel wrinkled her nose prettily. Her blue eyes avoided Gwen's. "He probably isn't that sophisticated yet, honey. You should have waited. But since he's gone, why don't you come over tonight and we can have fun?"
Gwen thought of several remarks she could make, but she was too weary to make the effort.
Presently Larry was sitting where Isobel had sat. Gwen could not remember when Isobel had left her. Larry's arm slid smoothly around Gwen's waist.
"Getting a bit tired, sweet?" he suggested.
"Yes. I'm tired." Gwen looked around for Pete so they could go home. Then it hit her again that Pete was not there. Pete was with Karen.
"Want me to take you home, baby?" Larry kissed her neck.
She moved her head away from his face. He had been drinking, and she suddenly felt repelled by the stale odor of the liquor.
"We'll go home," Larry concluded, when she was silent.
It seemed like a good idea. She wanted to be alone. The noise and sharp piercing laughter of the party were too much for her.
"Yes. Home," said Gwen. Larry helped her get up.
Barbara's blonde face, expressionless as usual, came into Gwen's consciousness as Larry helped her to the door. Gwen smiled vaguely in Barbara's direction. The red bps stretched in an empty smile of reply. The cool blue eyes were not affected.
Larry drove Gwen home. He inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. They went inside. The house was empty, silent.
'Tb help you, baby," said Larry. He moved her toward the stairs.
"I can go up alone-" Gwen told him. Her voice sounded thick and blurred even to herself. How much had she drunk this evening? She remembered that cool glasses had been pressed into her hand time and again.
"I'll help you, sweetie. Cute little sweetie." Larry's arms were around her as they moved slowly up the dark stabs to the upper floor.
He helped her get to the bedroom. He hadn't turned on the lights. She knew he should leave, but it seemed too much effort to push him away.
In the darkness his hands began to unzip the long zipper of the sheath dress.
"I can do that-" said Gwen, moving away on unsteady feet.
"Hold still, Gwennie. I'll do it."
His big hands caught her, held her still. The zipper slithered along her spine. His hands shoved the material off her shoulders and pulled it down till it lay in a puddle at her feet, trapping her. The hands, impersonal in the darkness, unfastened the brassiere, and took it from her. Then the panty-girdle was pulled and tugged from her waist down over her thighs. The stockings came down with it. The shoes fell off. She stood naked her feet tangled in the pool of discarded clothing.
Larry lifted her out of the tangle and carried her over to the bed. In her dazed state, she still knew it was Larry, and not Pete.
"You better go-" she told him, thickly, as he laid her down across the bed. She flopped where she fell, and lay motionless. It was so good to rest.
"No. Not going tonight," he said.
She heard slight sounds as he undressed. The sliding of cloth, the thud of shoes. Soon he came over to her. His warmth, the smell of liquor, the odor of masculinity came close to her, seemed to hover over her.
She smelled shaving lotion and tobacco and drink and sweat and a sort of musky, sexy odor as he bent near. It was not the clean smell of Pete. It was not Pete!
She tried to protest. "No not you. Not you." She put up her arms to ward him off.
He was too close, too excited, too insistent. Big hands parted her warm thighs. A big masculine body came down on her, knees bumping her knees, as he slid into position.
"No," she protested feebly. "No. No. No. No."
He didn't answer. She was limp and unresisting as he took her. She had no strength to fight him off. A large hard instrument pushed its way into her yielding softness.
If only he were Pete! Tears began to trickle from her eyes, and flow down her cheeks. She wanted Pete. Only Pete. Nobody but Pete. No one else could satisfy her. She wanted no one but her own dear husband, much as he had hurt her.
Larry bent closer. His mouth bit at her tender breasts in savage urgency. His hardness lunged deeper into her, cleaving its way up high and far.
"Sweetie," he whispered. "Little sweet kitten soft pussy cat. Little pussy."
He was moving on her, kissing her, biting the nipples of her breasts till they stood out in mechanical response to his skillful handling. She felt no emotional reaction to him. She lay as though lifeless.
"Come on!" he said sharply, after a while. "Give, pussy cat! Come on!"
She had nothing to give him. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her face was wet with the pain of needing Pete, of having lost Pete.
"Gwen?" Larry said warningly. "Gwen?" He rubbed his hands over her swollen breasts with rough urgency. He bumped at her with his hips, trying to find some reaction to him. She simply yielded, and let him push and pull her as he pleased.
His hands found her face. He felt her cheeks. "Hey? Are you crying."
"Yes," she said.
"Aw for crap's sake aw-" Larry's voice sounded savage, unsure. "Come on, baby. Forget that stupid lunk! He's a dope. He knows nothing about dames! He's a hick with nothing but size! Come on! I know all the tricks there are! I can give you ten times the fun he can!"
"I love him," said Gwen, on a sob.
"Aw! Hell!"
For a minute, she thought he would strike her. Then he settled down on her with silent fury. He used her as one would a rag doll, lunging at her limpness, holding her body in hard hands, thrusting in and out, in and out, till the very violence of his own motions brought him relief.
She lay passively as he finished in her. The jetting bursts meant nothing to her. She was thinking again about Pete, wondering if he was making love to Karen.
Larry pulled out, and flung himself away from her. He lay quiet, breathing hard. Then he sat up.
"Gwennie?" He touched her wet hips with intimate fingers. "Want fun now? Getting hot?"
"No. Go away," she said dully.
He cursed under his breath. "Oh, you baby!" he told her. 'You'll beg for me some day!" He slapped at her thighs with a careless hand. "Web, I'm going. When you're through crying for that stupid lunk, cab me up. I'll come over and give you a good time."
She was silent.
He left, muttering. She didn't care what he thought of her. He probably thought she was a naive child who didn't know what she wanted.
He was wrong, she thought. She knew what she wanted. It wasn't Larry or Don or Isobel or anybody in the gang. It wasn't any sex trick anyone could teach her, no special thrills anyone could make her feel, no skilled techniques.
She just wanted Pete, her husband, back home safely in her arms.