Woman (6 page)

     "Well, you should,"
Liz said firmly. "You should get a divorce or, at least, get a
lover."

     "I dunno," Barbara
shrugged. "It just doesn't seem to matter anymore."

     "Well,
don't say that.
They demand sex when they
want it or get it elsewhere. Why shouldn't we do the same?"

     "I suppose,"
Barbara said. She heard Max's voice rise in scornful volume in the living room.
"There he goes again,"she said.

* * *

     "The failure is that of
society, Max," David said.

     "Oh, bullshit,"
Max said. "Facts are facts. It's still a man's world. It works better that
way."

     "It doesn't seem to be
working too well at all," David said.

     "Well, it'd be worse if
women ran the show. Let's face it, they
are
the inferior sex."

     "Are they, Max?"
David said. "They live longer. Resist stress better. Adapt to the
environment better. It's really nota man's world at all anymore. The women are
right up there with us. Or—maybe psychologically, 'somewhere above us',"
he clucked. "Not that it does them that much good."

     "I don't agree with you
at all, Doc," Max said.

     Charlie pushed to his
feet."I need more Scotch," he said, moving toward the bar.

     "Maybe we should all
freshen our drinks," David said, "I feel a debate coming on." He
stood and followed Charlie. "You have enough to drink?" he asked
Ganine.

     She smiled and nodded, a
vague expression on her face. He wondered what her reaction was to what he and
Max had just been talking about.

     "Yeah, bring the gin
bottle over here," Max said. "And a thimbleful of Vermouth."

     Nothing was said as Charlie
refilled his glass and David added tonic water to his drink. "You're not
going to give credence to that asshole, are you?" Charlie murmured. David
smiled.

     They had just re-seated
themselves when Liz and Barbara came in. Liz made a point of not looking at
Ganine, unwilling to confront whatever irritation plus uneasiness she felt.

     "We were just
discussing your hubby's program this afternoon," Max said.

     "Oh?" Liz looked
mildly interested. "What was it about?"

     "Oh, some pathetic
broad was bitching about how miserable she was being a woman."

     "And—?" Liz had
tensed slightly.

     
"And—
your hubby told her that he thought women's lib was failing."

     Liz looked at David in
displeased surprise. "You saidthat?"

     "Well, not exactly.
What I said was—"

     "It isn't
failing,"
Liz cut him off.
"It's getting more successful all the time. That's obvious."

     "I wish I could believe
that," David said.

     She looked amazed. "How
can you
say
such a
thing?" she challenged.

     "Because I think
there's been very little attempt by men to make contact with the feminine. . .
essence,
if you will."

     
"So
what?"
she said, "That's
their
problem, not ours. We're not in
bondage anymore, that's all that matters. I know
I'm
not."

     "I'm glad you feel that
way," David said.

     "No, I know what David
means," Barbara said, "In a very real way, we're still
segregated."

     
"Segregated?
How?"
Liz asked.

     "Well, look what
happens when we're born," Barbara said, "Right away, it's pink
blankets and blue blankets. We aren't just babies. Already, we're sexes."

     Liz started to argue but
Barbara wouldn't let her. "We never have our own names. Our maiden name is
the name of our father. Our married name is the name of our husband."

     "What's the
difference?" Liz said. "You think freedom means unisex blankets and
your maiden name? There's a lot more to living, Babs. Anyway, I'm still Liz
Kramer in enough places—like my bank account."

     Barbara nodded, choosing not
to contest Liz. She looked at David. "What do
you
think?" she asked.

     "Well—" He wasn't
sure he wanted to get involved in this discussion with Liz; it was more than a
touchy subject to her. "The woman I was speaking to this afternoon on my
program maintained that the one woman in her place of business the men
accepted, they accepted only as a man."

     "That's really
irrelevant, David," Liz said, "Who cares how they accept her? She's
in, isn't she?"

     "True," he said,
nodding. They were into it after all, he thought. Not for too long, he hoped.
Still, he felt compelled to add, "There is a danger though of the female
essence being jeopardized by being forced to—"

     "Again with your
'female essence' crap," Liz interrupted. "What is it anyway? An idea
men
came up with. Thereare no substantial
differences between the sexes—"

     "But there
are,"
Ganine broke in, looking
upset. Liz threw an angry glance at her, then—visibly, David thought
—retreated, still not certain about what David had suggested about Ganine.

     The others had glanced at
Ganine as well, clearly none of them having the least idea why she was there.

     "It's
environment," Liz finished, despite her uncertainty, not willing to
surrender her point of view. "You know that better than anyone,
David."

     Only David noticed Ganine
murmuring apologetically. "I'm sorry."

     "I'm not sure,"
David said. He wanted the discussion to end. If only Val would arrive and he
could suggest an immediate departure for the Emmy show, ending the
uncomfortable presence of Ganine.

     "That's the attitude
that keeps the war between the sexes raging," Liz said. Didn't she want
the discussion to end too? he thought. Or was it just stubborn resistance to
deferring to Ganine being there?

     Max made it worse by saying,
cheerfully, "Maybe this'll be a fun evening after all." Liz looked at
him coldly. Her producer-head writer relationship with Max was far from
cordial.

     Liz started to speak when
the doorbell rang. "Oh, good," David said, quickly. "Now we can
get an early start."

     "On
what?"
Max challenged.

     "On getting to the
theatre."

     "I most
definitely
cast a yea vote on that,"
Charlie said.

     "I presume that's my
baby brother," Liz was saying as she moved for the door. "Anyone need
a re-fill?" David asked, Max drained his glass and held it out. "Gin
and ice, bartender," he ordered, "breath of Vermouth."

     "Right away,"
David glanced around. "Anyone else while I'm at the bar?" Barbara and
Charlie shook their heads.

     Liz opened the door. Val
Bettinger (he'd changed hislast name for the show) gave Liz a wide smile.
"Ta-da!" he said. "The star has arrived!"

     "And we are
orgasmically thrilled," Max said. He looked at Val's date, a show girl
named Candace Regina wearing a leopard fur jacket over her low-cut evening
gown. Val wore a white dinner jacket despite the weather.

     "So give us a hug, big
sister," he said. She put her arms around him and he pressed his lower
body hard against her. "Bon whatever the fucking word for evening
is," he said. "Are we late?"

     "As always," Liz
said, smiling affectionately.

     "Now, now," he
chided. "Mustn't gibe an Emmy winner." His shiny black hair was
primed into a lavish pompadour.

     "You haven't won it
yet, brother dear," Liz said, closing the door.

     "In the bag," Val
told her.

     "We haven't met,"
Liz said, extending her hand to Val's date.

     "She's my latest
cunt," Val said, "Name's Candy Vagina."

     "Now stop that,"
Liz said, not too critically. She smiled at Candy. "I'm Liz Harper and I'm
not responsible for anything my brother says."

     "My first name is
Candy," Candy explained seriously.
"Candace
actually, but my last name is
Regina,"
she added as though Liz had really believed her brother's
insulting last name.

     "You can see how I got
it wrong," Val said.

     Liz smiled at Candy.
"Nice fur," she said.

     "Val bought it for
me," Candy said.

     "Services
rendered," Val said.

     Liz scowled mockingly at
him. "Take your jacket?" she asked.

     "Sure," Candy
said. She removed the jacket, revealing more of her very low-cut evening gown.

     Val made a leering face at
her half-uncovered breasts. "Intellectual services, ofcourse," he
said.

     Liz groaned, "Come on
in," she said.

     The three of them started
across the room, Liz carrying Candy's jacket. "Greetings, peasants,"
Val said.

     "I'd bow but I'm
sitting down," Max told him. Val snickered. Ganine made a faint sound,
staring at the jacket. "Be a good girl and maybe you'll get one some
day," Max told her.

     "I don't want
one," Ganine said, making a face. Liz carried the jacket into the bedroom.

     "How you doin', Babs?
Charlie?" Val said. Barbara said hello, Charlie made a slight gesture of
welcome.

     "Say hello to the
people, Candy." Val told her.

     "Hello," she
murmured.

     "Talking's not her
specialty," Val said. Imitating Groucho Marx, he added. "Later on
I'll tell you what is." He looked at Ganine in pleased surprise.
"Good Christ, a
new face?"
  he said. "And who are you, young charmer?"