Daughters of Eve (17 page)

In desperation, she did what seemed the only thing possible. She bit him.

He sprung back so suddenly that they both rolled off the sofa onto the floor. Laura felt a sharp Jab of pain as her left shoulder hit the corner of the coffee table. She pulled herself to a sitting position, tugging frantically at her skirt which had become twisted around the upper part of her thighs.

Niles's face was white with rage, and there was a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Bitch!" he said hoarsely. "You damned bitch! You took half my tongue off!"

"I'm sorry." She meant it. She had not wanted to hurt him. The taste of his blood in her own mouth made her nauseated.

"You're sorry, all right! The sorriest mess I've ever seen! You thought Pete was going to take you out in public and dance with you? He'd die first, kid. And so would I. So would anybody."

"That's not true. Pete's been dating me for weeks now."

"The word isn't 'dating,' it's 'screwing.' With his eyes closed. Why else would any guy in his right mind spend time with a pile of blubber?" Niles leaned toward her, enunciating each word carefully, as though explaining a fact of life to a retarded child. "Pete was using you. Using you. Get used to the idea, kid, because that's all any guy is ever going to do with you. You might as well take what you can get, because it's all you're going to get. You pull the high-and-mighty act like you did with me tonight, and you're going to wind up without anything at all."

"Get out!" Laura whispered. "Get out of my house!"

"With pleasure!"

When he was gone Laura got up off the floor and went over to the front door and locked it. Then she went upstairs and took off the blue dress. She stood staring at it a long moment; then she wadded it into a ball and stuffed it into the back of her closet. She took off the pumps and threw them in after it.

Then she went into her mother's bedroom and opened the bottle of sleeping pills she kept on her bedside table. She did not bother to count them. She took them all.

The dance was over at midnight.

Holly Underwood arrived home at 12:14 A.M. Her date, Steve Penrose, walked her to her door. This had been their first date, and neither one had particularly enjoyed it. They said a polite good night, keeping a careful distance between them. Holly went into the house, and Steve went back to his car.

Irene Stark dropped Kelly Johnson at her home at 12:20 A.M. and then drove several blocks further to let off Fran Schneider and Paula Brummell. Fran was spending the night at Paula's.

Tammy Carncross and Kevin Baker went to McDonald's for a Coke before ending the evening.

Tammy's parents pulled into their driveway at 12:23 A.M.

"That's was quite an evening," Mrs. Carncross commented.

"You can say that again," her husband said. "Did you see the look on Ferrara's face when Paula threw her bombshell?"

"How could I miss it! Do you think they'll really do it—use the money for a girls' soccer team?"

"Not if they can help it. Ferrara has his heart set on those warm-up suits."

"Mr. Shelby was laughing."

"He probably thought it was a joke."

"There's nothing wrong with starting a soccer team," Lil Carncross said. "That's a sport that's getting more and more popular."

"I can't imagine the school's organizing a team for the girls when the boys don't have one yet." Mr. Carncross opened the car door. "Does that disco dancing remind you of the jitterbug?"

"Nothing can replace the jitterbug," Mrs. Carncross said.

Peter Grange took Bambi Ellis home at 12:30 A.M. They took a long time saying good night

At about the same time, David Brewer and Ann Whitten were parked in the Whittens' driveway. The porch light, which Mrs. Whitten had left on for them, illuminated the porch steps and a strip of lawn but stopped short of the front of Dave's pickup truck. In the darkened interior of the cab they sat close together with their arms around each other.

"I felt kind of funny tonight," Dave said. "A grown man at a high-school dance."

"It was fun, though, wasn't it?" Ann asked.

"It was fun because you were having fun. It's just that when I get with a bunch of your school friends like that, I realize I'm robbing the cradle. They all seem like such kids."

"You're not that much of an old man," Ann said. "It's only been three years since you were in high school yourself."

"They've been a long three years. Tonight, looking around at those boys—Tammy's boyfriend with the red hair, and the guy Peter, that Bambi goes with—I felt like they were living in a whole different world. They're thinking about partying, sports, picking up on each other's girl friends; I'm thinking about the farm, getting the leak in the barn roof fixed before the first snow, settling down with a wife."

"You're not happy, are you, about my going to art school?" Ann asked him softly.

"I think it's something you've got to do. If you don't, you'll always feel like you missed out on something."

"That's how I feel," Ann said. "It's like it was meant to be, the way it fell out of the sky right into my lap like that.'

"That's not how it happened," Dave said. "Your teacher friend arranged it"

"Well, still—"

"She knew what she was doing. She knew we were engaged, the wedding date was set, everything was planned out. Nothing 'fell into your lap,' Annie. A lot of strings got pulled."

"You sound as though Irene did something mean and sneaky," Ann said in astonishment. "That she was trying to hurt us instead of help us."

"I wouldn't go that far," Dave said. "It's just hard to like somebody when you know they don't like you."

"Irene likes you!"

"No, she doesn't. When you introduced us tonight, I could feel the vibes coming out of her like air from a refrigerator. There's a lot of bitterness in that woman, and I don't much like the idea that you're around her so much."

"You're wrong," Ann said. "Irene's the warmest, most understanding person in the world. She wants me to get this training because she thinks I have real talent. She takes my painting seriously."

"So do I. I told you, I'd make you a little studio room to paint in."

"But you think of it as a hobby, not as a career."

"I think of it as something you need to do to be happy," Dave told her. "If you mean by a 'career' that I expect you to sell paintings and make money to pay the expenses around the place, then you're right, I don't think of it that way. That's my job. If I couldn't support a wife, I wouldn't get married."

"That's an old-fashioned viewpoint," Ann said.

"And I'm an old-fashioned guy. A hayseed, remember? What do you want of me, anyhow? I'm letting you go off to Boston. I'm going to sit here and wait for you. What more do you want?"

"But you want me to feel guilty, like you're doing me a big favor!"

"I've never tried to make you feel like that. It's just—" His voice grew husky. "—It's just that I'm going to miss you like crazy."

"Oh, Dave, I'll miss you too." She turned and pressed her face against his shoulder. "I'm so confused that sometimes I'm not sure how I do feel about it all. I love you so much. I don't want you to be unhappy."

"I love you too, my gentle Annie," Dave said quietly. "I know that things are different now than they used to be when my dad and mom were married. I know girls today, they want different things, and I guess that's like it ought to be. It's just that I've grown up a certain way. I can't change the whole way I think and feel about things overnight I'm trying. That's the best I can do. I'm trying."

Jane Rheardon had not gone to the dance. She went to bed early and then, as she often did, woke around midnight. At 12:32 A.M. she was lying in bed, reading.

She heard the siren when it was still a long way off and got up and went to the window. All the houses along the street were dark.

Somewhere, someone is hurt, she thought. In a car accident, perhaps, or a fire. But that person isn't Mother.

It had been a pleasant Saturday. Her father had left the night before to go hunting in the northern part of the state. She and her mother had gone shopping for material for new dresses and had spent most of "the day sewing, and that evening they had gone to Brummell's Cafe for dinner. Her mother had been chatty, giggly, like a young girl. They had ordered fried chicken, and for dessert they had both had chocolate sundaes with whipped cream and nuts piled on top.

Her mother was sleeping now, safe and alone in the queen-sized bed in the next room. The sirens were not for her.

Ruth Grange heard the siren when she stood on the porch steps, kissing Tom Brummell good night. She stiffened, turning her head to listen.

"A fire engine?" she said.

"Or an ambulance. It's close, isn't it? It sounds as though it's only a couple of blocks away."

"I hate sirens," Ruth said with a shudder. "They give me the creeps."

On his way home, Tom passed the ambulance. It was parked with its lights flashing in front of the Snow house.

CHAPTER 13

At breakfast the next morning, Tom told his sister and her overnight house guest about the ambulance.

"It was on Locust, just a block or so from the Granges. That white house with the little fence around it."

"Not the one with the oak tree in the side yard?"

That's it," Tom said. "Do you know who lives there?"

"Laura Snow. I've picked her up a couple of times to go out to the nursing home." Paula turned to Fran worriedly. "Something awful must have happened. Do you think we ought to call?"

"Yes, I do," Fran said. "You know, she's all alone there except for her mother. If Mrs. Snow's had a heart attack or something, Laura's going to need her friends."

"Shall I try the house or the hospital?" Paula asked, getting up from the table.

"The house first."

The phone was answered on the first ring. The conversation was short.

When Paula returned to the breakfast table, she looked more concerned than ever.

"It's Laura who's sick, not her mother," she said. "One of their neighbors is over there and answered the phone. She wouldn't tell me anything except that the 'crisis is over,' but Laura's going to be in the hospital for a few days. Mrs. Snow was there with her most of the night, but she's home now, sleeping."

"She didn't say what happened?" Fran asked. "Was it her appendix or something like that?"

"She wouldn't say. In fact, when I asked her, she all but hung up on me. Shall I try the hospital?"

"Tell them you're her sister," Fran advised. "You might be able to learn more that way."

This second call provided no more information than the first. Laura Snow was, indeed, a patient at Modesta Hospital. She was "in fair condition" and "resting comfortably." There was no phone in her room, and she was being allowed no visitors.

By noon all members of Daughters of Eve had been given the news, and Fran had phoned Irene Stark.

"Can you find out what's happened?" she asked her. "They'll talk to you. You're her teacher."

"I'll try," Irene said. "I've never met Mrs. Snow, though, and I don't know that my name would mean anything to her."

"She didn't turn up at the dance," Fran said. "From something she said, I'd gotten the impression she was going to be there,"

There was a pause. Then Irene asked slowly, "With a date?"

"I don't think so. Laura doesn't have a boyfriend."

"I think she does," Irene said.

"You're kidding! I've never seen her with anybody. That's the kind of news that gets around quickly. Modesta High is one big gossip factory."

"Think carefully," Irene said. "What was it she said that led you to think she would be at the dance last night?"

"I don't remember. Oh—wait—yes, I do! She was telling somebody, maybe it was Holly, that her mother had bought her a dress. It was a little tight, but she thought she would fit in it by Homecoming. She was on a diet; I know, because she and Paula and I share the same lunch period. Laura used to eat with us, but recently she hasn't even been coming into the cafeteria. She said that watching us eat made her too hungry."

"I'll phone Mrs. Snow tonight," Irene told her. "Meanwhile, I think it would be best not to make too much of this. I wish you'd tell the girls not to talk about it at school tomorrow."

"But, when Laura is absent, won't people be curious?"

"I don't see why. Students are absent all the time. Whatever the reason for Laura's hospitalization, it's obvious her mother would prefer to keep it quiet. So, until we know more about this, let's keep the lid on. All right?"

"All right," Fran agreed readily. "But you will tell the Daughters of Eve, won't you? That is, if you're able to learn anything?"

"Of course," Irene said. "You are her sisters."

The November 27 meeting of the Modesta Chapter of Daughters of Eve was called to order by Fran. The pledge was repeated.

Ann Whitten read the minutes from the previous meeting: