Ladies In The Parlor (3 page)

He stood in deep thought for a few seconds and then said, “Oh, well, it’s all too damn much for me,” and went to join his wife.

“Did you have an interesting morning?” she asked him.

“Oh, so, so,” was the reply. “Little Leora Blair came in—a slight ailment—that’s about all.”

“She’s a beautiful little thing,” said the wife. “How will she ever end in such a home?”

“God will watch over her,” the doctor replied, with slight mocking.

“Jonas, dear—why do you make light of what you don’t understand?”

The doctor did not answer for some time. Then, as one would address a child, he said, “That’s all right, dear.”

Farway’s wife was a beautiful, ailing woman. She was the daughter of a prosperous farmer. While attending college in Cincinnati, she had met her husband. She was still under thirty, with yellow hair, sunken white cheeks, and a slight figure. The doctor had no sex desire for her. It had died within a few months after their marriage, five years ago.

A miscarriage had made her anemic and fretful.

The doctor soon had an affair with a nurse. It lasted three years. To his dismay, she had married an osteopath, while other women went in and out of his life.

He would often see the nurse who had married the osteopath. Though her marriage had not broken the intimacy, it had made it more inconvenient. After each affair, he would smile grimly, as he did not respect osteopaths.

He would always say, “Dr. Milligan,” the name of the cheated husband, with a slight sneer.

To gain more freedom he encouraged his wife to spend weeks with her parents. His mother-in-law considered him an ideal husband for such thoughtfulness.

He now said, “It must be lovely in the country, Mary. I’m sure your mother would be glad if you paid her a visit.”

“Perhaps I will, quite soon,” said the wife.

Leora came the next day. The doctor caressed her as before, then touched her firm breasts. The girl received his caresses willingly.

Buttoning her dress, he placed her on his lap. Both were silent. Finally the girl laid her head on his shoulder, then pulled his face toward her and kissed him.

He rose and lifted her in his arms.

She sighed. Her body went limp with yielding. Satisfied with himself, the doctor seated her on the table and said, “Just a few more days, Leora, and your body will be well and white again.”

The girl crossed her legs, while the doctor watched.

“Do you love me a little?” he asked.

“A lot,” was the answer.

Hearing footsteps in his outer office, the doctor smoothed the girl’s hair, kissed her on the forehead, then opened the door and said formally, “Tomorrow at the same time, Miss Blair.”

She thanked him and left the office, while the doctor admitted the caller.

That afternoon, while making his calls, the doctor stopped at the Blair home.

“Just passing by,” he said to the father. “I wondered how you all were.”

Leora greeted him demurely, her hand lingering in his.

“I’m going for a call beyond Locust Grove,” he said. “Perhaps you girls would like to come along.”

Leora caught his meaning, “Yes, Sally, let’s do,” she said.

It was late when they returned. Sally thanked the doctor for his kindness, while Leora allowed her hand to linger in his a moment, then said quickly, “Goodnight,” and hurried away.

Two weeks passed. The doctor’s wife was with her parents in the country. The housekeeper had gone for the day.

The doctor carried the girl up stairs and placed her on the large bed in the front room. Leora looked about the room, then said, “Not in her bed.”

“Beds mean nothing,” returned the doctor. His hand was on her body. As always, she became quiet at his touch.

Removing her clothes, he surveyed her nude loveliness.

Her curiosity was stronger than her desire.

An hour later they rose. Her body glowed. She forgot the slight hurt he had caused.

The fulfillment of an often unconscious dream, she went toward him, holding her clothes before her.

Taking her clothes, he placed her on the bed again. He was more patient. She responded slowly with the rhythm of her body. He crushed her to him, exclaiming, “My God, my God.”

Several hours passed. He explained to her the mystery of her body and how she might prevent having children.

She returned home late that afternoon and remained silent upon the bed until dusk. The effect of the doctor’s caresses would not wear off. She walked again to his office.

At twelve that night she explained to her mother that she had met the doctor accidentally and had gone to a picture show.

It was the first of many days. She became listless and indifferent when not with him.

Her attitude changed in a few months. While she still liked to be with the doctor, her affection for him was not deep. She came to resent Mrs. Farway.

Not wishing trouble in his home, as Mrs. Farway’s parents were wealthy, the doctor secured Leora a position with Dr. Otis Haley, as office girl. Now self-supporting, she soon bloomed into a woman. She was sixteen years old.

Dr. Haley was the wealthiest physician in the county.

He had thick lips and a goatee. His ears were small, and his eyes furtive, rheumy, and large. He belonged to all the clubs in his home city, and was a member of the Queen City Club in Cincinnati. A deacon in the Methodist Church, he was an agnostic at heart. His surgical instruments were scattered about his medical library. Once, when Leora came into the library, she overheard him say to a visiting physician, “How can a man believe in all the Christian tommyrot, after seeing what we have seen, Doctor?”

Leora noticed that the visiting physician kept his eyes upon her, and did not answer his host’s question.

Dr. Haley’s desire for Leora soon became greater than his friendship for Dr. Farway.

Where Dr. Farway had confidently taken the fort, Dr. Haley, being older, laid careful siege.

Unaware that Leora knew of his intentions, he raised her salary twice, and gave her many presents.

At last the doctor won.

She gave herself to him as casually as she would have crossed a quiet street.

Then remembering her aunt’s words, “Never let a man think you’re easy,” she began to cry.

Dr Haley was a leading citizen. He became bewildered. Nothing could soothe her for some moments. “I’m sorry you did that,” she said. “Now I can never get married—what will my husband say?”

As Dr. Haley did not know, he placated Leora with fifty dollars.

Later, when Dr. Haley was in slight doubt about his having been the first to seduce her, Leora became angry and cried, saying over and over, “How could you think of such a thing, Doctor?” After much pleading on Dr. Haley’s part, Leora explained that she had ridden a bicycle a great deal the year before.

Satisfied with another conquest, Dr. Haley was no longer in doubt.

She was as casual and indifferent about sex relations with Haley as she was with Farway.

Though she remained discreet with both men, her intimacy with each continued. Dr. Farway gave her money, and Dr. Haley gave her a salary of twenty-five dollars each week.

There had never been so much money in her home before. She gave Sally thirty dollars with which to buy her mother new clothing. When the mother returned with clothes of varying shades, Leora, irritated, returned to the store with her mother and selected more harmonious colors.

She developed greatly during this period. As she earned more than her father, his fear of her became apparent.

She spent more time with her aunt than ever. Dr. Farway once met them in Cincinnati, where a medical convention was being held. As the doctor was busy during the day, she idled many hours with men her aunt knew.

One tried to seduce her. She laughed at him.

“Who are you savin’ it for?” he asked.

“For you, when you get a hundred dollars,” was the answer.

Leora received the money, and the man another illusion.

When she told her aunt of the experience that strange woman laughed and said, “You’re comin’ on—I wish I had had as much brains at your age.”

When they returned home a week later Leora went at once to Dr. Farway’s office.

“I’m bringing you bad news,” she said, “I’m that way for a baby.”

The doctor was speechless. Then he thought of a plan. “Why don’t you go to Dr. Haley,” he suggested, “he’ll fix you up for fifty—here it is.” He handed her the money. “You can tell him some boy did it.” She was at first doubtful. He pleaded with her until she promised to explain it to Dr. Haley. “But don’t mention my name to him,” said Dr. Farway.

“I won’t,” returned Leora.

Neither did she mention it to Dr. Haley in the way Dr. Farway had suggested.

Instead, she told Dr. Haley that she was “that way for a baby.”

Feeling that he was the only man in her life, he gave her medicine that she did not take, and when she became slightly hysterical, he soothed her with money.

When her imaginary danger had passed, both doctors breathed more freely.

Leora and her aunt laughed about the incidents as they strolled through the hickory woods in front of Red Moll’s house.

“Men are like children,” said Red Moll, “they’re fraid of the dark.”

Leora watched the evening star appear and made no answer.

Her aunt resumed, “Men are smart not to want children—it’s the women who are dumb. They chatter about motherhood, and get old and gray and fat for kids who’ll cut their throats in the end.” She pulled a piece of hickory bark from a tree. Beneath the bark were two insects fastened together. “You see,” she said, “wherever you go it’s the same thing. I get so sick of it I could crawl away and die.”

“But didn’t you ever care—?” asked Leora.

“No—not even when I was your age—it’s all so damned messy,” replied her aunt.

Leora was silent as she watched the two insects crawl away.

“It’s not what I thought it was either,” she said at last. “I could go on forever without it.”

“It’s a good way to get money though—but whatever you do, don’t be cheap,” advised her aunt. “You’ll get more out of men if you’re not cheap.”

Such talks may have helped to shape Leora’s life.

She looked again at the evening star. Her head raised upward gave the lovely contour of her white throat. A slight ripple of wind blew the red-brown hair about her temples. It blew the collar of her silk blouse until the upper part of her breast was exposed.

Her aunt, gazing at her in the dying light of the day, said more quickly than usual, “You’re beautiful as the devil, Leora.”

“Was the devil beautiful?” Leora asked without blushing.

“They say he was,” replied Red Moll. Pulling another piece of bark from the tree, she added, “It’s no wonder he went to hell.”

Turning again to Leora, she said, “I don’t know who you got your good looks from.”

“Wasn’t mother good-looking?” she asked.

“Yes,” was her aunt’s reply, “she had good hair and teeth, and her face wasn’t bad—but she was not like you—you have everything—I wonder what’ll become of you.”

“So do I,” returned Leora.

“And I wonder what’ll become of your mother if she keeps on having babies—she’s going to have another, you know.”

Leora’s voice raised, “Is she—oh dear!”

“Yes,” Red Moll mused, “it’s too bad—I feel so sorry for her.”

Leora returned home late. Her mother was sewing. All the children were in bed.

Mrs. Blair was bent over a dress, her red hand pulling a needle back and forth.

The three top buttons of her calico dress were open. Her faded hair, that had once been tinted with the sun, was now projected in two long straggles, like bent horns from her head.

She looked up wearily and asked, “Is that you, dear?”

“Yes, it’s me,” replied Leora, entering the room. “Is it true what aunt has told me?” she asked.

Knowing Leora’s meaning, the mother bowed over the dress in her hand and said, “Yes.”

“This is terrible, Mother, it’s a sin.”

Her mother made no answer.

Leora looked at a red mark around a figure on a full calendar. It indicated that a menstruation period had been two months passed for the forlorn woman.

Her mother bit the thread at the end of a seam, and laid the dress down, when Leora turned impulsively and exclaimed, “My God, Mother—it’s one squalling brat after another.”

Her mother made no reply and Leora went on, “You’ve got to stop some time.”

“What can I do?” asked the mother.

“You might shoot him if he ever touches you again—he’s just a God-damned animal.”

“You mustn’t talk that way about your father,” said the mother tiredly.

“I’ll talk worse when I see him,” was Leora’s rejoinder.

“Please don’t,” pleaded her mother, “it ain’t his fault —what’s a man to do?”

Mrs. Blair bent toward Leora, who stared at her with set face.

“Don’t look at me that way, dear—can’t you see I need you— I’m the most alone person in the house—I’m so alone I could cry—” She buttoned the top part of her dress—”it’s just no use—I can’t figure it all out,” she moved closer to her daughter. “Now just suppose I didn’t want to have you—where would you be, dear?” She began to cry; then said between sobs, “Some day, Leora, when you’re married and a baby begins to come, you’ll understand.” She looked with apprehension at her still stern daughter, “You wouldn’t kill it, would you?”

“Yes, I would,” was the sharp answer, “it’s not murder to kill what’s never lived.”

“Are you sure, Leora—maybe it’s a soul tryin’ to get back to the world again.”

“Well, it wouldn’t come to this house if it had any sense—and you haven’t got any right to bring it here either.”

The mother took Leora’s hand when she had finished speaking.

“Leora,” she said slowly, “there’s times I don’t know you, you’re so strange—you’re more like the Blairs than my people—the Flemings were never like that—my mother’d of crawled to save a baby.”

“And what for—I’d like to know,” snapped Leora.

“Because she felt it had as much right in this world as she had—that’s why.”

A thought came to Leora. Her face brightened, “But, Mother,” she said, “It may be you’re not that way at all—suppose I talk to Dr. Haley in the morning—he’s very kind, and he’ll examine you and not charge me anything.” She began to soothe her mother.