Barbara Greer by Stephen Birmingham Read Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen Birmingham
was nothing like that between me and Barney. It was justâjust nothing. For Godâs sake, now, come to bed!â
âSorry, sorry, sorry!â Nancy said. âSorry I brought it up. But I remembered you told me something. Oh, I know why it is. Youâre pretty. You always were. Prettyâprettier than me.â She picked up the glass again. âMirror, mirror on the wall? Who is the fairest of us all? Barbara Woodcock! Fairestâofâusâall!â She pounded her feet if in rhythm to the words.
There was a sound. Barbara turned. Carson was standing in the doorway in his pyjamas and yellow terry bathrobe; on the breast pocket of the robe were his initials in blackâC.V.G. His hair was tousled and his face was clouded with sleep and anger. âJesus Christ,â he said. âArenât you two ever coming to bed? Do you know what time it is? Do you know Iâve got to get up in the morning?â
âCar-son!â Nancy cried gaily. âCome join us! Fix us all a drink!â
âDonât you know itâs late? Donât you know itâs damned near two?â He thrust his fist into the pockets of the terry robe. This caused the robe to fall open at the middle and Barbara suddenly saw that the front of his pyjamas, also, was open.
Nancy saw it too. âOne oâclock in the pyjama factory!â she cried.
âJesus Christ!â Carson said in disgust, turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.
âCarson!â Barbara called.
âHe forgets I work in a hospital,â Nancy said. âIâve seen worse things than thatââ
âIâm going to bed,â Barbara said.
âAll right, all right!â Nancy stood up, somewhat unsteadily. She performed, then, a few little tap-dance steps in front of the sofa. âPut your little foot, put your little foot, put your little foot right down!â she sang in a wavery voice. Then she said, âGood night, Barb.â She turned and started toward the hall.
âYouâre in the guest room,â Barbara said.
âI can find it. Nitey-night!â
Nancy walked slowly down the hall. Barbara heard the guest room door open, then close with a bang.
One of the boysâMichael?âcried out softly in his sleep.
âDamn her!â Barbara said, and her eyes filled with hot tears.
She started around the room, rapidly emptying ash trays into the silent butler, picking up the glasses, turning off the lamps. She carried the two glasses into the kitchen and placed them in the sink. She put the Scotch bottle back in the cupboard. Then she turned off the kitchen lights.
The house was dark now, except for the hall light.
She went down the hall and softly pushed open the door of the boysâ room. Using only the light from the hall, she tiptoed across the room. Michael was out of his covers. Gently she lifted the blanket. She hesitated, then reached down, under his sleepers, checking his diaper. He was dry. She covered him then, tucking the blanket tightly around his shoulders. She went to Dobieâs bed and looked down at him. He was covered, asleep.
She went out into the hall, closed the door, and turned off the light.
In the dark she went on to her own room, let herself in, and closed the door behind her. In the darkened room she heard Carsonâs steady breathing.
She found the small light beside her dressing table and turned it on. With a piece of tissue paper, she blotted her lipstick. Then she sat down at the dressing table in front of her dim reflection in the mirror and began to brush her hair. She lifted her hair, a bit at a time, and rolled each strand into a flat curl with her fingers. She spread bobby pins with her teeth (she had been taught never to do this, but was there any other way?) and secured each curl tight against her head.
Behind her, Carson said, âShe gets nuttier by the day, doesnât she?â
âYes,â Barbara
âSorry, sorry, sorry!â Nancy said. âSorry I brought it up. But I remembered you told me something. Oh, I know why it is. Youâre pretty. You always were. Prettyâprettier than me.â She picked up the glass again. âMirror, mirror on the wall? Who is the fairest of us all? Barbara Woodcock! Fairestâofâusâall!â She pounded her feet if in rhythm to the words.
There was a sound. Barbara turned. Carson was standing in the doorway in his pyjamas and yellow terry bathrobe; on the breast pocket of the robe were his initials in blackâC.V.G. His hair was tousled and his face was clouded with sleep and anger. âJesus Christ,â he said. âArenât you two ever coming to bed? Do you know what time it is? Do you know Iâve got to get up in the morning?â
âCar-son!â Nancy cried gaily. âCome join us! Fix us all a drink!â
âDonât you know itâs late? Donât you know itâs damned near two?â He thrust his fist into the pockets of the terry robe. This caused the robe to fall open at the middle and Barbara suddenly saw that the front of his pyjamas, also, was open.
Nancy saw it too. âOne oâclock in the pyjama factory!â she cried.
âJesus Christ!â Carson said in disgust, turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.
âCarson!â Barbara called.
âHe forgets I work in a hospital,â Nancy said. âIâve seen worse things than thatââ
âIâm going to bed,â Barbara said.
âAll right, all right!â Nancy stood up, somewhat unsteadily. She performed, then, a few little tap-dance steps in front of the sofa. âPut your little foot, put your little foot, put your little foot right down!â she sang in a wavery voice. Then she said, âGood night, Barb.â She turned and started toward the hall.
âYouâre in the guest room,â Barbara said.
âI can find it. Nitey-night!â
Nancy walked slowly down the hall. Barbara heard the guest room door open, then close with a bang.
One of the boysâMichael?âcried out softly in his sleep.
âDamn her!â Barbara said, and her eyes filled with hot tears.
She started around the room, rapidly emptying ash trays into the silent butler, picking up the glasses, turning off the lamps. She carried the two glasses into the kitchen and placed them in the sink. She put the Scotch bottle back in the cupboard. Then she turned off the kitchen lights.
The house was dark now, except for the hall light.
She went down the hall and softly pushed open the door of the boysâ room. Using only the light from the hall, she tiptoed across the room. Michael was out of his covers. Gently she lifted the blanket. She hesitated, then reached down, under his sleepers, checking his diaper. He was dry. She covered him then, tucking the blanket tightly around his shoulders. She went to Dobieâs bed and looked down at him. He was covered, asleep.
She went out into the hall, closed the door, and turned off the light.
In the dark she went on to her own room, let herself in, and closed the door behind her. In the darkened room she heard Carsonâs steady breathing.
She found the small light beside her dressing table and turned it on. With a piece of tissue paper, she blotted her lipstick. Then she sat down at the dressing table in front of her dim reflection in the mirror and began to brush her hair. She lifted her hair, a bit at a time, and rolled each strand into a flat curl with her fingers. She spread bobby pins with her teeth (she had been taught never to do this, but was there any other way?) and secured each curl tight against her head.
Behind her, Carson said, âShe gets nuttier by the day, doesnât she?â
âYes,â Barbara