Free Angels All Over Town by Luanne Rice Page B

notice your ass is killing you.”
    “Listen. I had to go into her house, to use the telephone or something, and you’ll never believe it. Jane has a Betamax.
And
an Atari.”
    “I don’t believe it.”
    “I swear it. It’s hooked up to this enormous thirty-six-inch color TV in her bedroom. That’s where the phone was.”
    “Sure it was.” I smiled at Susan’s blush. She hates to admit she likes to snoop.
    “But the best part is—the actors all live in her house. Something very kinky is going on up there. Ted acts as if he doesn’t care, but the air was
electric
. I mean, Jane was moving in her typical slinky way, and the actors were rubbing against her, trying to get her alone. It was so animalistic. And she was having a very open affair with one of them—Sligo, I think.”
    “I notice Ted’s not with her tonight,” I said. Susan and I were standing in Stan’s studio, which was painted black and smelled like paint thinner. His canvases were huge, covered with nightmare images of howling skeletons. “Jesus, Susie—how can you have this stuff in the house?” It made me feel creepy, as if the skeletons could come alive.
    “They’re about Auschwitz,” Susan said. “He’s been dreaming about it for months now. We wake up and hear him screaming…”
    I shuddered. “I don’t see how you and Louis do it, living with four other people.”
    “It’s what we can afford,” Susan said briskly, and instantly I felt terrible.
    “I know,” I said, trying to smooth my gaffe. “I just mean that it must be difficult. If I have to face anyone before I have three cups of coffee and a look at the
Times
, forget it…”
    “You’re lucky you can live alone,” she said.
    “Well…”
    “You are.”
    “You’re lucky to be in
Hester’s Sister
. Is the play in shape yet? How’s it going?”
    “Fine,” she said. She warmed to me again, and her hazel eyes sparked with excitement. “I mean
really
fine. Keep your fingers crossed, Una. I think it could be a hit.”
    “That’s great,” I said, but why did my heart sink? Susan was my best friend. I wanted her to succeed. This is all because of Jane, I told myself. Jane always made me feel cheap, like a sellout, acting for money while everyone else is acting for passion. But I knew it wasn’t only Jane; for her to make me feel that way, it had to be the truth, didn’t it?
    Susan and I returned to the bosom of the party. She told me to check out the men; she had invited several she thought I might like. I danced a few times. Every so often Louis would find me with a refill for my glass of Scotch. I found myself thinking of Lily and Margo. They understood me. I was always at my best when I was with them, because they knew what to look for. Standing at the edge of the dancers, I found myself thinking of how wonderful it would be if Lily did marry the Dutch heart surgeon and move to New York; we could be one another’s built-in support system.
    I danced a few times with David Hammarslough, a man I had dated at Juilliard. David is tall and dark. He cuts his own hair and always wears the same thing: jeans and a ratty black turtleneck. Sometimes I think he looks like a prisoner, but he has soft black eyes that are kind and knowing. He has appeared in two successful Broadway plays and one Canadian movie. At Juilliard we took dance class together and spent numerous hours staring at each other’s bodies before finally going to bed together, the same night we played opposite each other in Gorky’s
Enemies
.
    The night of Susan’s party was the first time I had seen him in four years. I had drunk too much Scotch by the time I finally spotted him, and I pressed my body close to his while we danced.
    “You really look great, Una,” he said.
    “I think of you a lot. I keep reading reviews of your work, and you keep getting better.”
    “Have you seen it?”
    “Some of it. The movie and one of the plays.” I had felt overjoyed when I saw how good he was in each of