Free Sex Between, The by Randy Salem Page A

of that damned food Maggie was always harping about. About a gallon of scotch to wash it down with. More sleep. And tomorrow, back to work. No more of this stupid running around like a fool. She had a job to think about now, a whole damned company waiting for her to step into Kate's footprints.
    Maggie was sitting by the window in the kitchen, staring out at the garden with eyes Lee knew saw nothing. At the sight of the girl, she stopped short and the swirl of her good intentions gurgled down the drain.
    "What the hell's eating you?" she barked, knowing what the hell was. But something inside her could not be gentle.
    "Nothing," Maggie sighed without turning around. She leaned forward and propped her elbows on the windowsill.
    Lee realized that Maggie was trying to withdraw, to sneak away inside herself where Lee couldn't reach her. And in a way, she understood why.
    "Say, look," Lee said, "I haven't eaten for about a week now and I thought maybe..."
    Still sighing, Maggie lifted herself from the stool and came toward Lee sort of floating, as though afraid to touch the ground and reality.
    "I've got some of that chicken left," she said tiredly.
    "That's not what I meant," Lee said, her voice low and soft, absorbing some of Maggie's pain. "I thought maybe you'd like to go out for dinner with me."
    A tiny spark flared in Maggie's eyes and, for just a second, she looked almost alive. Lee caught her breath, wanting to reach out, wanting to help—yet knowing that it was Maggie's fight and that Maggie had to wage it alone.
    Then the spark was gone. A wrinkle etched its way across the smooth forehead. "I’d like that," she said dully.
    "So let's go," Lee said, trying to pump some enthusiasm into the girl. "I'm so hungry I could eat the paint off the walls."
    "I'll put on some lipstick," Maggie droned.
    "Oh, the hell with it," Lee snapped. "You look better now than anything else on the streets."
    She grabbed Maggie's wrist and pulled her outside. She did not want the girl to stay in the house another minute, feeding on whatever morbidity obsessed her. She wanted to get her out, force her to breathe, to look around. To see that there was still sunshine, still life on the planet...
    But nothing she could say reached Maggie. Beside her in the car, the girl sat silent. She took her to an Italian restaurant and they ate in silence. And afterwards, Lee smoked a cigarette in silence and Maggie just sat.
    This will never do, Lee told herself sharply. You've got to make that girl smile.
    Lee's glib tongue, that had wound its way in and out of trouble all her life, failed to get a rise out of Maggie. After a while she quit trying and let the girl brood. But she turned the car toward the Battery Tunnel, seeking a familiar spot.
    The last time they had been to Coney Island, Lee had been thirteen and Maggie, trailing at her heels like a puppy, had been an awed eight, witnessing the gaudy wonder for the first time. They had had a hell of a good time and Lee remembered Maggie, at every booth, grabbing her sleeve and whispering, "Win me a teddy bear." Lee had won her three, smashing baseballs into milk bottles with an aim perfected at the expense of Kate's greenhouse. If they could find a little of that feeling today, just a little...
    "Remember the last time we were here?" Maggie said beside her.
    Lee heard an edge of warmth in the girl's tone and she turned to glance at her. "I was," she said. Then she grinned. "Remember how Kate laid you out for getting chocolate down the front of your dress?"
    "It was mustard," Maggie said. "And I still think it was your fault. If you hadn't bumped into my arm..."
    Lee felt a well of fondness spreading inside her. Of tenderness for this girl whom she had known... and loved... for so very long. Now that it was too late, she began to realize just how much Maggie had always meant to her. And she to Maggie. If only... If only... Little, ugly words, if only. They strolled onto the boardwalk and into the stream of