talk to Evie about and I don’t want to feel—rushed.”
“Rushed,” Jack repeated.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” Chessey told him. Then she plunged into the crowd, moving against the current, in the direction of Evie.
When she got to the punch bowl, the crowd was moving out the door, led by Jack, and Evie was pouring herself another drink. The punch was spiked. It was much paler than it ought to have been, and that meant vodka. Chessey Flint almost never drank, literally never at noon, but she took a cup of it anyway.
“Come to the ladies’ room,” she told Evie. “We have to talk.”
If she had waited around to see the expression on Evie’s face, she would have known she was about to hear a lot of things she didn’t want to hear. As it was, she was in the hall leading to the ladies’ room before the last words were out of her mouth, and leaning, panting, against one of the marble sinks by the time Evie made her way in. By then, Evie looked the way she always looked, except a little more skeptical.
“Love on a mattress hasn’t done you much good today,” Evie said. “What’s the matter, Jack get a little out of control?”
“No.”
“No,” Evie assented. “Jack wouldn’t.”
There was a bar of Camay soap in each of the brass soap dishes attached to each of the marble sinks along the wall. Chessey picked up the bar closest to her and started to wash the makeup off her face. That way she had her back to Evie and her eyes closed so she couldn’t see her own face in the mirror.
“Listen,” she said. “I think he’s starting to believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“All those things Dr. Steele said about me. All those rumors he put out about the things we did together. Except that we didn’t do them. We really didn’t.”
“I know you didn’t. Jack knows you didn’t.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s changed, Evie. Just in the last two days, he’s changed. Do you know what I think happened?”
“No.”
“I think he found Dr. Steele yesterday, even if he says he didn’t. I think they had a talk and I think Dr. Steele—convinced him.”
“Well, there’s an answer to that, isn’t there, Chess? You just let Jack sleep with you, and when you bleed all over the sheets, he’ll know he was wrong.”
“Evie.”
“Oh, Chess, for God’s sake, what do you want me to say? You’re being such a goddamned jerk.”
The water was backing up in the sink, making a small puddle filmy with soap. Chessey held her hands under the clean cold water from the tap, making them wet, making them wrinkle. Then she splashed water onto her face and turned the tap off.
“Does he talk to you?” she asked Evie. “Does he tell you things—about us?”
“Jack?” Evie shook her head. “Jack doesn’t talk to anybody. Not even to Dr. Crockett. Not about you.”
“Then how can you possibly know I’m being a jerk?”
“Common sense,” Evie Westerman said piously. Then, Chessey thought, she must have seen the effect she’d had. She made a small moue of self-disgust and reached under her costume for her cigarettes.
“Chess, listen to me. Jack didn’t see Dr. Steele yesterday. Nobody did. Nobody’s seen him today, either. I got it from Mandy Cavanaugh. She went over to Liberty Hall to drop a course and she heard Miss Veer talking about it.”
“Talking about what?” Chessey asked, confused.
“Talking about how Dr. Steele has disappeared.” Evie was impatient. “According to Mandy, he hasn’t just disappeared, he discorporated. No one’s been able to find him. Miss Veer was talking about calling in the police.”
To Chessey, this was not just confusing, this was incomprehensible. “Calling in the police about what?” she demanded. “What’s Dr. Steele supposed to have done?”
“It’s not what Dr. Steele is supposed to have done, it’s what somebody maybe did to him. I mean, let’s face it, Chess, senior professors don’t just fall off the face of the earth without telling
“Rushed,” Jack repeated.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” Chessey told him. Then she plunged into the crowd, moving against the current, in the direction of Evie.
When she got to the punch bowl, the crowd was moving out the door, led by Jack, and Evie was pouring herself another drink. The punch was spiked. It was much paler than it ought to have been, and that meant vodka. Chessey Flint almost never drank, literally never at noon, but she took a cup of it anyway.
“Come to the ladies’ room,” she told Evie. “We have to talk.”
If she had waited around to see the expression on Evie’s face, she would have known she was about to hear a lot of things she didn’t want to hear. As it was, she was in the hall leading to the ladies’ room before the last words were out of her mouth, and leaning, panting, against one of the marble sinks by the time Evie made her way in. By then, Evie looked the way she always looked, except a little more skeptical.
“Love on a mattress hasn’t done you much good today,” Evie said. “What’s the matter, Jack get a little out of control?”
“No.”
“No,” Evie assented. “Jack wouldn’t.”
There was a bar of Camay soap in each of the brass soap dishes attached to each of the marble sinks along the wall. Chessey picked up the bar closest to her and started to wash the makeup off her face. That way she had her back to Evie and her eyes closed so she couldn’t see her own face in the mirror.
“Listen,” she said. “I think he’s starting to believe it.”
“Believe what?”
“All those things Dr. Steele said about me. All those rumors he put out about the things we did together. Except that we didn’t do them. We really didn’t.”
“I know you didn’t. Jack knows you didn’t.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s changed, Evie. Just in the last two days, he’s changed. Do you know what I think happened?”
“No.”
“I think he found Dr. Steele yesterday, even if he says he didn’t. I think they had a talk and I think Dr. Steele—convinced him.”
“Well, there’s an answer to that, isn’t there, Chess? You just let Jack sleep with you, and when you bleed all over the sheets, he’ll know he was wrong.”
“Evie.”
“Oh, Chess, for God’s sake, what do you want me to say? You’re being such a goddamned jerk.”
The water was backing up in the sink, making a small puddle filmy with soap. Chessey held her hands under the clean cold water from the tap, making them wet, making them wrinkle. Then she splashed water onto her face and turned the tap off.
“Does he talk to you?” she asked Evie. “Does he tell you things—about us?”
“Jack?” Evie shook her head. “Jack doesn’t talk to anybody. Not even to Dr. Crockett. Not about you.”
“Then how can you possibly know I’m being a jerk?”
“Common sense,” Evie Westerman said piously. Then, Chessey thought, she must have seen the effect she’d had. She made a small moue of self-disgust and reached under her costume for her cigarettes.
“Chess, listen to me. Jack didn’t see Dr. Steele yesterday. Nobody did. Nobody’s seen him today, either. I got it from Mandy Cavanaugh. She went over to Liberty Hall to drop a course and she heard Miss Veer talking about it.”
“Talking about what?” Chessey asked, confused.
“Talking about how Dr. Steele has disappeared.” Evie was impatient. “According to Mandy, he hasn’t just disappeared, he discorporated. No one’s been able to find him. Miss Veer was talking about calling in the police.”
To Chessey, this was not just confusing, this was incomprehensible. “Calling in the police about what?” she demanded. “What’s Dr. Steele supposed to have done?”
“It’s not what Dr. Steele is supposed to have done, it’s what somebody maybe did to him. I mean, let’s face it, Chess, senior professors don’t just fall off the face of the earth without telling
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