interrupt Marcie’s reverie, but like all shy people she was convinced that if you can just keep the other person talking, everything will be all right. It was an urge she couldn’t resist After a few false starts she said, “Have you been in New York long, Marcie?”
Marcie looked at her, mildly surprised to find her still there. “Yes. Since we were married.” She spoke absently, turning to her plate.
“When was that?”
“Three years ago.” She came suddenly back to the present. “Laura, did you ever love a man and hate him at the same time?”
Laura was nonplussed. This was more than she counted on. “Well—I don’t know exactly.” She wasn’t sure if she had ever loved Merrill Landon. She knew well enough how she hated him.
“I shouldn’t throw my problems in your face like that, before you get your dinner down,” Marcie smiled. She reached out and gave Laura’s arm a pat that made Laura jump a little. “It’s just that that damn character proposed to me again today. I don’t know what to do with him. I thought maybe you could give me some advice. Have you ever been married?”
“Me? No,” said Laura emphatically, as if it were a slightly lewd suggestion. “Who is ‘that character’?”
“Burr. My ex-husband.”
“He wants to marry you again?” It seemed unnatural to Laura. If the marriage was legally over, physically over, emotionally over, why beat the carcass?
“Yes. The fool.” Marcie smiled ruefully. “He’s a very persuasive fool, though.”
Marcie was one of those people with the rare gift of intimacy. You knew her a few minutes, an hour, a couple of days, and you discovered to your surprise that you felt close to her. It wasn’t the personal revelations she couldn’t help making, as much as it was her look, her questions that asked for Laura’s help. Laura felt curiously like an expert on marital affairs, and it was so ridiculous that she smiled.
“What’s funny?” Marcie asked.
“You make me feel like Miss Lonelyhearts or something,” Laura said.
Marcie laughed. “You don’t have to give me advice, Laura, just because I ask for it. I guess you can’t anyway if you’re single. But just for the hell of it, what would you do if a decent honorable sort of ex-husband chased you like a demon and swore he’d kill you if you went out with anybody else?”
“I’d send him to a clinic.”
Marcie shook her head. “He’s healthy. If I didn’t know we’d quarrel twenty-four hours a day, I’d marry him tomorrow.” She sighed. “I almost said yes to him today. What’s the matter with me? I’m not a dope. Or am I?”
“You don’t look like one,” Laura said uncomfortably.
“Poor Laura!” Marcie laughed. “I’m embarrassing you to tears. You make a good listening post. Come on, finish your hamburger. It didn’t kill me.”
When they cleared up the dishes, Marcie turned on the tap in the sink. A thin hesitant stream of water was called up after some pitiful groaning from the pipes. Marcie kicked a pipe under the sink.
“It’s enough to drive you wild!” she exclaimed. “Some nights you have to wait around till the cows come home before there’s enough to wash anything in. Oh, here it comes!”
With a scream the pipes vomited steaming water. Marcie looked at Laura and the little smile on her face widened.
Suddenly they were laughing hilariously. Laura felt the laughter soothing and tickling her tight muscles, making her relax.
“It hates me,” Marcie said to the sink, grasping the faucets and rattling them furiously. The stream came to an abrupt halt. She turned to Laura again. “Do you think you can stand it?” she said.
“I think I can.” Laura knew now why she wanted to move in, but she was ready to ignore the reason. She would bury it, forget it. It had no place in her world any more. She would say to herself, and half believe, that she was moving in simply because apartments were hard to find; because she could pay the rent on this one; because she and Marcie were congenial. Period. “What’s your job like?” she asked Marcie casually.
“I’m supposed to be a typist-receptionist,” Marcie said. “But I could never type very well. Mr. Marquardt doesn’t care, though. He just told me to make a good impression on his customers and don’t chew gum on the job. I told him that would be a cinch, and he said, ‘You’re hired.’” She laughed. “He’s nuts. But it’s a great job. I just sit around most of the day.”
With a face like that, I’m not surprised, Laura thought. It gave her a bad feeling. Laura worked hard, she tried hard at anything she did. It was part of her nature. Either you did a thing the whole way or you didn’t do it at all. It was part of Merrill Landon’s code that had rubbed off on her. It made her a little jealous to hear this lovely girl brushing idly over a comfortable job that asked almost nothing of her. Marcie would not have understood Laura’s feelings at all.
“You’ll get along fine with Burr,” Marcie said, drying her hands on a towel. “He’s always reading something. Those are his books in there.” She waved a hand toward the living room. “He brings them over in hopes that I’ll improve my mind.” She made a face and Laura smiled at her.
“Does he come over a lot?” Laura asked.
“Yes, but don’t worry. He’s harmless. He talks like Hamlet sometimes—gloomy, I mean—but he’s nice to dogs and children. He has a parakeet, too. I always think a man who has a parakeet can’t be very vicious. Besides, I lived with him for two years, and the worst he ever did to me was spank me one time. We shouted at each other constantly, but we didn’t hit each other.”
“Sounds restful,” Laura said.
Marcie laughed and went into the bedroom. “See if you think you’ll have enough room in here,” she called to Laura, who followed her slowly. “It’s pretty crowded, but the bathroom makes up for it. We could fence it off and make an extra room of it if we wanted to.”
Laura sat down on one of the beds. “I like it fine, Marcie,” she said. “I’d like to move in. If you think we’d get along.” She looked at her lap, confused. She never said these things right. Marcie laughed good-naturedly and flopped on the bed beside Laura, on her stomach. Laura had to twist around to see her. “Oh, I can get along with anybody,” she said. “Even you. I’ll bet you’re terribly hard to get along with.”
“I don’t think so. I mean—” She never knew when she was being teased until she had put on a solemn face and felt like an ass. “I’m impossible,” she said with a smile.
“That settles it!” Marcie exclaimed, sitting up with the pillow crushed against her bosom.
They got along unusually well together, as the weeks passed into months. April came, and Jean left on her European tour, Laura and Sarah were alone in the office with the doctors, and Laura worked with a will to make
