“Only to yourself, hm?” He laughed. “I mess up your daydreams and your affair. God! What more can I do? I’m becoming the Man in your Life, Mother.” His laughter fizzled slowly, and Laura could tell he was quite drunk from the way he let his head hang for a minute. “You know,” he said and wagged a finger at her, articulating cautiously, “I never have trouble thinking when I’m drunk. But my tongue gets sloppy.” He laughed a little. “I say what I want to say, that’s one good thing. But it sounds sloppy as hell.” He finished the drink in front of him. Laura started to get up, but he caught her wrist and said, suddenly very serious again, “You’re in trouble, Laura. Marcie’s straight. Accept that. It’s a fact. If she’s playing games with you, she’s doing it for private kicks, not to give you a thrill. And her kicks have nothing to do with being gay. They have to do with going out on a limb, with acting nuts once in a while. Maybe she’s just pushing _you_ out on a limb to see if you’ll fall off. And you’ll fall all right. Flat on your can.” He stopped for a minute to focus his gaze on her. “Marcie’s about as queer as Post Toasties, Laura. Take my advice: move out.” “But I can’t! I won’t!” she exclaimed defensively. “Why should I? I’ve done nothing wrong!” “I hadn’t either when Joe gave me the glad news.” “I’m not you. I’ve done nothing I’m ashamed of.” “No, but you will. If you hang around, feeling like you feel. You were saved by a phone call Friday night. What if my timing isn’t so good next time?” “I don’t want to move out.” She said it stubbornly like a thwarted child. “All the more reason why you should.” Laura got indignant. “I’ve got more will power than you give me credit for and I’m not going to be scared out.” “What are you going to do for will power if she gets cold some night and crawls into your bed to keep warm? Or you take a shower together? Or she feels like pulling your nerves out by the roots one by one again, and makes you play let’s-touch-tongues just for the hell of it? Just to see if she can get you sent up for sodomy? Be thankful you’re female, Mother. At least your passion won’t stand up and salute her.” “I’ve had enough from you tonight!” “Okay, okay. But I advise you to find a nice butch somewhere and set up housekeeping in the Village. Or at least, cultivate a few lovelies down there so you’ll have a place to let off steam when Marcie feels like playing games.” “You’re drunk and repulsive.” “I know what I am, Laura. Don’t change the subject.” “I’m going home.” “I’m coming with you.” He got up unsteadily and followed her toward the door. Outside he stopped her. “Don’t hate me, Laura,” he said. And she couldn’t, looking at him there in the pink glare of neon, short and plain, brilliant and miserable, offering her his curious stinging sympathy. “I wish I could,” she said and shook her head. He smiled at her. “I’ll walk you home,” he said. “You don’t need to. Why don’t you get a taxi and get yourself home?”