Woman (3 page)

     "What did you
say?" she asked

     "Nothing," he
answered, walking toward the door. The doorbell rang again.

     
"Anybody
home?"
he heard Charlie's muffled voice in the
corridor.

     "On my way," David
murmured.

     He reacted with abrupt
surprise as he opened the door.

     Standing next to Charlie was
Ganine. Still wearing the same dress and jacket.

     Charlie thrust out his beefy
right hand. "Doctor! How ya doin'?" he said, his tone loud and
hearty. He was a heavy-set man in his fifties with a bushy bandit's mustache, a
flushed complexion.

     Charlie made a courtly
ushering gesture to her, "After you, my dear," he said.

     David knew that he should
tell Ganine she wasn't coming in, that she'd have to leave. Before he could act
though, she entered with a timid smile, glancing worriedly at David.

     "Met this lovely little
lady on your doorstep," Charlie said. He pointed at Ganine.
"Ganine?" he said. "Jeanine," she corrected.
"Ah," said Charlie. He grinned at David. "Must be from your side
of the tracks."

     David couldn't decide
whether or not to close the door. If he closed it, it would be as much as
inviting Ganine to stay. If he left it open—

     "Delighted you're going
to be with us," Charlie told Ganine, patting her back affectionately.
"Touch of youth. We can use it." He beamed at her, then chuckled.
"Doubly delighted for that matter. For once, I'm not the first to arrive.
Dreadful habit."

     "Ganine isn't—"
David started, then broke off as Charlie took a step into the living room.
"Where's that Emmy-winning producer of mine?!" he called.

     Liz answered from the
dressing room. "Will you stop it?" she scolded.

     David stepped in close to
speak to Ganine. "I'm sorry but this—"

     "I know I shouldn't do
it," she said.

     "No such animal!"
Charlie was booming. "We all win tonight! It's in the bag!"

     "Have a drink,
Charlie," Liz called.

     "You twisted my
arm," he answered, starting for the bar.

     "Ganine, this is really
out of the question," David told her sternly.

     "I won't get in
anyone's way," she said.

     
"That
isn't the point.'"
His voice rose uncontrollably.
"We simply—"

     "Are the hors d'oevres
out yet, David?" Liz called.

     "Almost!" he
called back. Jesus, he thought, if Liz saw Ganine here again—inside the
apartment. The notion made his teeth clench.

     "Well, get them
out!" Liz told him.

     "All right!" David
looked tensely at Ganine. "Ganine,
please—go,"
he said. Groaning softly, he moved toward the kitchen. I shouldn't
be doing this he thought, I should be getting her out of here.

     "What's your pleasure,
my dear?" Charlie asked.

     Oh, no, David thought.

     "Uh. . .nothing,"
Ganine told him. "Thank you."

     "Oh, come on,"
Charlie said. "Festive occasion. Have to imbibe."

     "Just. . .juice
then," Ganine said.

     "Only juice?"
Charlie said disapprovingly. "Come on. A little wine maybe?"

     "Who are you talking
to?" Liz asked from the dressing room.

     To hell with the hors
d'oevres, David thought, turning back abruptly. The girl had to go.

     "Just your pretty
little guest," Charlie called.

     Dead silence. David felt his
stomach muscles pulling in.

     "Okay, just
juice," Charlie said. "I find that questionable though."

     David was approaching Ganine
when Liz came in wearing her dark red evening gown, her hair held up by combs.
When she saw Ganine, she stopped abruptly, staring at her with angry
incredulity.

     "Need more orange juice
here," Charlie told her.

     
"David."
Liz's voice was tight as she gestured toward the kitchen with her
head.

     "Oh, God," he
whispered, moving behind her.

     "So what do you do for
a living, Ganine?" Charlie asked. "Model?"

     David didn't hear her answer
as he followed Liz into the kitchen.

     
"What
in the holy hell is going on?"
she demanded.

     "Look, I—" David
started.

     
"Did
you invite her in?"

     "No, of
course
I didn't," he answered
sharply.
"Charlie
brought her in."

     
"Charlie?"
she glared at him.
"That
makes sense?"

     
"Liz.
When I opened the door, she was standing beside him and obviously
he thought she was invited too," he began to explain in a carefully
controlled voice.

     "Well,
get her out of here,"
she
interrupted. From the look on her face he could see that she still had the
headache or a large portion of it.

     "I'll try," he
said.

     "What do you mean,
you'll
try
?"

     "Liz,
take it easy will you?"
he said,
beginning to lose patience.

     
"Take
it easy?"
she said, "The most important night
of my career, a splitting headache, this
. . .flake
crashes our party and you tell me to take it
easy?"

     "She's
disturbed,
Liz. There seems to be
something seriously wrong with her."

     
"I'm
disturbed too. Are you planning to offer hertherapy?"

     "Oh, for Christ's
sake," he said irritably. "I didn't
plan
on this, you know."

     "All right, all right,
I'm sorry," she said. "Just. . .please get her out of here."

     He squeezed her hand.
"I will," he reassured her.

     Liz turned to the counter to
finish placing the crab-filled cakes on the platter. Earlier, she had removed a
selection of miniature cookies from one of the bakery boxes and arranged them
on another platter. Holding out that platter, she told David to put it on the
living room coffee table. "And a bottle of orange juice for Charlie,"
she added.

     "Yeah," he said
distractedly, wondering how he was going to get Ganine to leave without making
a scene. Opening the refrigerator, he took out the half gallon bottle of orange
juice, shut the refrigerator door and picked up the cookie platter.

     "Get her out of
here," Liz said quietly, her back still turned to him. David raised a
glance toward heaven, then started into the living room.

     As he entered he saw Charlie
filing an ice-cube filled glass with Scotch. Charlie was a heavy drinker,
eventually turning raucous. Not tonight, dear Lord, David thought. To his added
distress, he saw that Ganine was sitting on one of the easy chairs, a
half-filled glass of orange juice in her right hand.

     "Ah, more juice,"
Charlie said, taking the bottle from David. "A little more, my dear?"
he asked Ganine.

     "No, thank you,"
she said, smiling timidly.

     "All
right.'"
Charlie gave her a broad
smile and plopped himself down on the sofa. He made a toasting gesture with his
glass of Scotch. "To you," he said, "You
should
be a model, you're that
lovely."

     Ganine replied softly.
"Thank you."

     "Just the God's
truth," Charlie told her.

     "I need to speak to
you, Ganine," David said. She looked at him fearfully. "In the
kitchen," he told her.

     Her uneasy hesitation made
Charlie look at David curiously. "Something wrong here?" he asked.

     "No, no." David
told him, "I just need to talk to her for a moment."

     "Can't do it
here?" Charlie asked.

     "No." David's tone
was curt. "In the kitchen, Ganine."

     She stood as Liz came into
the room, her face pale, an hors d'oevres-bearing wraith. "Good evening
Mrs. Harper," Ganine said.

     "Well, aren't you the
beauty?" Charlie said. "Hey—I take that back. You look
terrible," Charlie said in concern. "Are you sick?"

     Liz shook her head, putting
down the platter of crab-filled appetizers. Ganine started toward the kitchen,
followed by David.

     "What's going on?"
Charlie asked.

     "She's not our
guest," Liz told him, making no effort to keep her voice down. "She
just showed up at our—oh, my
God!"
she threw her head back with a gasp of agony.

     "What
is
it?" Charlie asked, sounding
frightened.

     "My
head. It's going to explode."
Liz
was barely able to speak.

     David started out of the
kitchen, his face distended by fear.
"Liz"
he said.

     "A headache
tonight!"
Charlie said. He sounded
almost displeased. "Have you taken anything?"

     She didn't answer, groaning
weakly, both hands to her head.

     "Liz, you'd better
cancel—" David started.

     "No! I
can't"
Liz broke in with a cracking
voice. "I have to—!"

     Suddenly, she stopped, a
blank expression on her face.

     "What is it, Liz?"
David asked.