The Lord Won't Mind (The Peter & Charlie Trilogy) (39 page)

They drove into the city, talking in bursts, interspersed with thoughtful silences. Peter drew up in front of C. B.’s building. “If you don’t hear from me,” he said, “don’t worry. It’ll mean everything is all right. Just come to me as soon as you can. If I’m not there, I guess you’ll have to wait.”

Their hands reached out and gripped each other hard for a moment. Then Charlie let himself out, and Peter slipped quickly into gear and drove away.

He parked the car opposite El Morocco. He took a deep breath and crossed the street and rang the bell marked “Mills.” He was tense and keyed up, but he had rehearsed what he would say to Hattie, so he was almost disappointed when there was no response. He wanted to get it over with. After he had rung several times and waited, he put the key in the lock and entered. At the end of the hall, he listened at the door before cautiously opening it. He went in on tiptoe and peered into the living room. Nothing. He edged forward until he could see into the alcove. He exhaled and relaxed and looked around him. The place looked very tidy. He had been prepared for pools of blood, but the bed was made and there was no trace of violence. He looked around the living room. There was a sheet of paper on the desk and even from where he stood he could see that it was addressed in large letters to “YOU SHIT.” He went over and picked it up.

YOU SHIT,

If you dare come back here, you’ll see I’ve had all my things taken away. You better make sure I never see you again. I was going to turn you over to the police, but my family swore they’d never have anything more to do with me. As if I care, except I happen to need them. You’ll be delighted to hear that I have to spend the next few weeks in the hospital having my face fixed up. Don’t you feel manly? You shitty faggot. I’d be happy to go around for the rest of my life looking like Frankenstein if I could see you locked up where you belong, but I’ve got to think of my career. Thanks for fixing it so I had to quit the play. I hope I’ve fixed you for life. Maybe you bled to death. It’s too much to hope for. Just watch out.

There was no signature. Peter folded the sheet and put it in his pocket. All their planning and worry was for nothing. It was wonderful, they had only themselves to consider now, but it rather took the wind out of his sails. He had seen himself rushing about, perhaps dodging the police, conferring with lawyers. It had turned out to be what he had hoped it was last night—an ugly ending to a situation that could have been tragic. He was left with nothing of any real importance to do except to wait for Charlie to extricate himself from C. B. He had tried not to let his thoughts dwell on the interview, but he was far from tranquil about its outcome. He knew C. B. as an adversary, and he knew that this was an occasion for her to draw on all her reserves of coercion. Charlie had seemed awfully sure of himself this morning, but he knew the hold she had on him and understood it. He wished he hadn’t had to challenge it.

He approached the telephone and looked at it for a long hesitant moment. He was playing for his life now. He picked it up and dialed C. B.’s number.

When it was answered by a familiar Negro voice, he hardened his accent and asked for Mr. Mills. In a moment, Charlie was on the line.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, darling,” he said. “It’s all right. I was thinking of how worried you must be and I couldn’t see why you shouldn’t know—it’s all right.”

“Oh, fine,” Charlie said in the careful neutral tone he had always used with him on the telephone. “Could you explain a little more what you mean?”

“She’s back with her family, and she isn’t going to make any trouble. I’m here at our place. It’s all OK. I’ll go on home now and wait for you there. I love you.”

“Same here. Thanks for calling. You’ll be hearing from me.”

Peter hung up. It was as straight now as he wanted it. The crisis was over; Charlie didn’t need him any more. Whatever he said to C. B. would be what he wanted to say.

He took another look around the little apartment, remembering the day they had arrived. He felt curiously removed from everything that had happened here. He had been another person. It would all be different now, if it was going to be anything at all. He tossed the keys in the air and caught them and slammed the door behind him when he went out.

His own place still felt like Tim. This evening he had been coming for a “quickie.” Sweet big boy. Hell and damn. Yesterday, he had held Tim and been held and loved it. Today, he wouldn’t let him touch him. It didn’t make much sense. He had never knowingly hurt anybody before. It must take a lot of guts. He hoped he had enough. He went to the house phone and pressed the button. Walter answered.

“Hi. Listen, I might as well get this over with. I’m running out on you. I guess I was an expensive mistake.”

“Ah? Where’re you going, laddie?”

“I don’t know. Nowhere. I took Charlie out to Stamford last night. It was the only place I could think of because of those pictures we went to look at the other day.”

“Well, that’s not very far. Why do you say you’re running out?”

“Well, because I am. I know I ought to give the loot back, but I just can’t. We need time so badly. Later, I’ll pay it back. I swear to God I will.”

“The money? That’s yours. There’s no question of giving it back. You say ‘we.’ I assume Charlie’s come back to you.”

“Yes, he has. Oh, God, yes, has he ever. That’s just it.”

“Are you going to settle in Stamford?”

“No, of course not. I mean, I thought we might find some place in the country to rent for the summer. He wants to get back to his painting.”

“How splendid. It’s not unusual for people to go away for the summer. But won’t you have to have a place in the fall?”

“Well, sure. But—”

“I still don’t quite understand what you mean by running out.”

“But I’ve told you. I have to break with Tim.”

“Of course you do. Poor Tim. I’m very sorry for him. It’s going to be a terrible blow. But surely you and Charlie will be quite comfortable upstairs there where you are.”

“You mean you don’t think I’m a louse for doing this?”

“Good heavens, laddie. I’d have been very disappointed in you if you hadn’t. We’ve all known about Charlie. I even took the liberty of warning Tim at the beginning, but he’s in love with you and quite rightly disregarded me. You’re in love with Charlie. Nobody could guess that he’d be free again. If he is, of course you must be with him. You’ve done nothing underhanded.”

“Oh. my God.” Peter sank onto the bed. “You mean, you want me to stay? You want me to bring Charlie here?”

“Of course, laddie. I sometimes think you don’t understand me very well. I’ve told you it gives me great pleasure to watch you live. What could give me greater pleasure than to see you with the person you really love? It’s haunted you all these months. I could see that. You’ve been very brave. I’m looking forward to meeting Charlie. I know I’ll be very fond of anybody you care for so much.”

“I understand you all right, but I can’t always believe it. You’re fantastic. Listen, what am I going to do about Tim? I can’t stand doing this to him. It’s happened to me. I know what it’s like. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done to anybody in my life.”

“You mustn’t think of it like that, laddie. These things happen. It’s nobody’s fault. As you say, you’ve been through it. He’s a man. It’s part of life. He’ll have to accept it.”

“But what’ll I do? I can’t call him at the office. What did he say when you told him I was leaving town?”

“He didn’t take it very well. He said you had no right to. I had a sharp word with him. I think you’d better let me handle this, laddie. Perhaps I’ll ask him to come see me after his dinner tonight. I’ll have to think about it.”

“I’ll see him, of course, if he wants me to, but I don’t see what good it’ll do. He said if I was ever unfaithful to him, that would be the end of it. Well, I have been. Do you think it would help him to know that? I mean, if he hates me, maybe that would be better than what I’ve been through.”

“It’s very sweet of you to care so much about his feelings. Happiness often makes us rather cruel. I don’t know. I’ll have to see how it goes. What are your plans?”

“Well, I thought you’d want me to pack up and leave. I’ve borrowed a car I have to give back tomorrow. I’ll bring Charlie back here. Golly, how wonderful. I want so much for you to meet him. We can think about finding something for the summer over the weekend or some time.”

“That sounds sensible, laddie. I’ll have to speak to Tim immediately. We don’t want to risk having him turn up there. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow, or do you want to have a first evening together?”

“No, we’d love to. God, I’m so happy, Walter. I wish everybody in the world could feel like this.”

“You’re very sweet, laddie. I’m terribly happy for you. I wish you could hear your voice. It’s ecstatic.”

Peter laughed. “I don’t see how it could help being. Thanks for everything, old pal. It doesn’t do him much good, but I love Tim such a hell of a lot. Please try to make it easy for him. It’s hell, isn’t it?”

“It may be, laddie, but you’ve got to think of Charlie now. These things so rarely work out right. You’ve got to prove that they can.”

“Boy, we will. Don’t worry about that. Just give us the next fifty years.”

He had scarcely hung up when he heard a key in the lock and the front door opening. He sprang up from the bed and took a few steps toward the door. Tim filled it. In the instant, he knew that this was inevitable, that he couldn’t have left it for Walter to handle. He saw joy and relief flood Tim’s face; the blue of his eyes filled his own with love. “Skeezix! Oh, Christ. Thank God, you’re here. Walter said not to expect you till tomorrow.”

“Then how come you’re here?” Peter asked.

“I couldn’t work. I told them I was sick. I had to come here to feel near you. That’s what you do to me. I’ve been so damned worried.” He started forward. Peter stopped him with a look.

“Please, Tim. I’m not staying.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Tim’s happy grin widened and he moved forward again with confidence. “I’ve got you now. Where’ve you been?”

Peter stood his ground, but shook his head slowly. “Please. You don’t understand. I’m trying to tell you. He’s coming here in a little while and then we’re going. Together.”

The grin faded. “Then I’m staying. I’ve had enough of this. What’s it all about?” He stood close to Peter, his face earnest, but love still shining in his eyes.

Peter looked into them without flinching, steeling himself for what his next words would do to them. “It’s about everything. Our lives, everything. It’s no good. There’s nothing I can do about it. I’m going back to him. For good.” He saw all the features contract, he saw the fist lifting, he felt its impact on his chin. His head snapped back, and he staggered and fell. For a moment, he was close to unconsciousness. Then his reeling head steadied, and he put his hand over his eyes and shook his head slightly. He worked his jaw.

“You little shit,” Tim said.

Peter dropped his hand and looked up. Tim was sitting in a chair, rubbing his hand. His eyes were on him, hard and dangerous. The sheer bulk of him imposed itself on Peter’s consciousness. Despite the blow, he felt safe and protected and oddly at peace. He knew he would never feel any of these things with Charlie; ecstasy, tension, challenge, conflict, and total commitment were what he had chosen. He gathered himself together and pulled himself to his feet. “I deserved that,” he said. “If it would do any good for you to beat me up, I’d let you. I really would. There’s no point asking you to forgive me because I can’t forgive myself. I know how bad this is. I can’t help it.”

“I’m yours. That’s what you said, isn’t it? You seem to’ve forgotten.”

“How could I forget? It was true. How could anybody know this was going to happen?”

“Nothing’s happened, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. I’m telling you. He’s left Hattie. He wants me back. I’m going to him.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Tim said quietly. His body was all held taut, ready to spring.

Peter looked into the hard, unyielding eyes. “Now listen, you’re a hell of a lot bigger than I am, but when I get worked up I can fight. I don’t care what you do to me, I’m going to him.”

“That’s what you think. You must be nuts. He dumps you. He dumps his wife. How long do you think it’ll be before he dumps you a second time?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? You know what you said about our being faithful to each other. Well, it’s finished with us, that part of it.”

“You’ve been to bed with him?”

“Yes.”

Tim stood abruptly and started for the door. He stopped before he reached it and turned back slowly. Peter’s heart contracted when he saw his face. His eyes had deepened into pools of hurt and bewilderment.

“No. I guess it’s not as simple as that,” he said haltingly. “Oh, darling. My Peter. What’s happened to you? I trusted you so completely.”

Peter swallowed hard. This is where the guts come in, he told himself. He mustered all his strength to meet the stricken eyes. “I guess you shouldn’t have. All I can say is, there haven’t been any secrets.”

“Oh, Christ, have your goddamn secrets if you’ve got to. Sleep with him, if that’s what it’s all about. You can’t leave me. We’ve gone too far.”