The Lonely Lady by Harold Robbins Read Free Book Online Page B

JeriLee. One day you’re one way, the next another.”
    “At least I conform as far as that is concerned,” she said. “Girls are said to be changeable.” She laughed. “You ruined my dress. I told my mother I spilled something on it in the kitchen.”
    “It’s not funny. I felt guilty as hell about it all night.”
    “Don’t be. Next time just be more careful.”
    “There won’t be a next time, JeriLee. I won’t lose my head again.”
    She looked at him quizzically.
    “I mean it. I respect you too much.”
    “You mean you won’t do it even if I want you to?”
    “You don’t want it, JeriLee,” he said with conviction.
    “If that’s what you think, why did I let you do it?”
    “Because you lost your head too.”
    “No, Bernie, that’s not the reason. I let you do it because I wanted you to do it. Suddenly I discovered why I was feeling so strangely, why I was always nervous and upset. It’s because I was trying to run away from the feelings inside me.”
    “You don’t know what you’re saying, JeriLee.”
    “I’m being honest, Bernie. I’m not pretending to myself that I didn’t want it or like it. Maybe now I’ll find a way to cope with it.”
    “JeriLee, nice girls don’t feel like that.” He was upset. “Maybe you ought to talk to somebody.”
    “Who? My mother?” JeriLee asked sarcastically. “I can’t talk to her. She would never understand.”
    “Then what are you going to do?”
    “The same thing you’re doing. Maybe in time we’ll know what it’s all about.”
    He walked back to his stand without answering. All that afternoon he watched her. Nothing was right anymore. He was sorry he had started the whole thing with her.
    ***
    “Did you finish the book?” Martin asked when she returned it to him.
    “Yes.”
    “What did you think?”
    “There were parts of it I didn’t understand. Most of the time I felt sorry for all of them. They seemed so lost and unhappy no matter what they did.”
    “What is it you didn’t understand?”
    “You said that it reminded you of your own family. You’re nothing like Studs Lonigan.”
    “I could be if I allowed myself to drink the way he did,” Martin said. “And my parents are as hypocritical as his. They’re always preaching at me but they don’t live the way they say I should.”
    “Did you ever make it with a girl the way he did?”
    Martin blushed. “No.”
    “Do you do anything else?”
    “I… I don’t know what you mean,” he stammered.
    “I think you do.”
    He turned fiery red. “Golly, JeriLee, people don’t ask questions like that.”
    “You’re blushing,” she said. “Do you like it?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “How often do you do it?”
    “That’s not fair, JeriLee. How would you like it if I asked you a question like that?”
    “Maybe you’re right,” she said after a moment. “I went over to the library myself and took out two more books by James Farrell. You know, I like him. At least he’s honest.”
    “He’s a good writer,” Martin said. “I tried to get my father to read him but he wouldn’t. He said he’d heard all about him from Father Donlan in church, and that he had been excommunicated because of the dirty words in his book.”
    JeriLee nodded. “I know. When I took out the books, the librarian looked at me kind of funny. She said she thought I might be too young for James Farrell.”
    He laughed. “Sometimes I wonder what they think we are. Children?”
    ***
    JeriLee stood on the terrace listening to the music through the open doors of the lounge. The black orchestra had been playing at the club for the last several weeks. At first some members had objected. They said that the only reason Mr. Corcoran had hired them was because they were cheaper than the white orchestras. But from the first night they played, all except the diehards admitted they were the best orchestra the Beach Club had ever had.
    JeriLee and Lisa were sitting on the railing when the music stopped and the