Uptown Girl. Olivia GoldsmithЧитать онлайн книгу.
wound. Bina was lovable and Jack, slow-moving as he was, had always seemed to adore her. ‘I’m sure he’ll call. Even if he leaves for Hong Kong I bet he sends you a ticket to join him and proposes there,’ Kate ventured hopefully.
‘Men are just funny …’
‘Not homosexual ones,’ Elliot said as he walked back into the room carrying a knitted afghan throw. ‘We’re fucking hysterical.’ He knelt down beside Bina and wrapped her up in it. Brice came out of the kitchen carrying a full tray which he put down gracefully on the coffee table. Arrayed before them were four dessert plates, the plate of profiteroles, a silver server of piping-hot dark chocolate sauce, lace-trimmed napkins, a crystal shot glass and a frosted bottle of Finlandia. ‘All for you,’ Brice said.
Bina looked at the tray. ‘I’d love some dessert but I don’t drink,’ she told him.
‘You do tonight, honey,’ Brice said and poured her a shot. ‘Chocolate and alcohol together beat shit out of Prozac.’
Bina looked at him, at the brimming shot glass, and, to Kate’s utter surprise, took it from him and knocked it back.
‘Good girl!’ Elliot said.
‘And here’s your chaser,’ Brice added and handed Bina the pastries. ‘You know what they say: just a spoonful of sugar …’
Bina picked up the plate to dig in.
‘Wait just a minute,’ Brice said. ‘The doctor is in.’ He picked up the silver pitcher, raised it theatrically and poured out the bitter chocolate over the ice cream pastry.
Kate looked at the three of them entranced, not sure if she was experiencing pleasure or discomfort. Her two worlds had merged here on the Fortuny-upholstered sofa and all one could have said was that it seemed quiet on the western front. Then Brice filled the shot glass again and handed it to Bina who, docile as a kosher lamb, drank it down. That broke Kate’s trance. ‘Guys, this is more serious than something a drink and an overdose of carbohydrates will cure,’ she told them.
‘Honey, there’s nothing that will cure this. But alcohol and sugar will temporarily dull the pain,’ Brice replied. ‘Trust me. I know.’
Bina, back at her dessert, looked up from her plate with a dazed expression on her face. Elliot wiped the chocolate from around her mouth with the lace napkin.
‘Who are these guys, Katie?’ Bina asked, looking at Elliot and Brice with some confusion. ‘Are they therapists, too? They’re very good.’
‘No, dear. This is my friend Elliot, who works with me at school, and his partner Brice,’ Kate told her. Bina smiled, but it was obvious that Kate’s words were merely washing over her. She suddenly realized just how drunk Bina was.
‘Why am I here?’ Bina asked. ‘And why are they roommates?’ She slurred her words, and only God knew how slurred her mind was. Again Kate wished that she hadn’t mixed Brooklyn with Manhattan. They were parallel universes, and, like parallel lines, should never ever touch.
Despite her concern, Kate was just slightly amused watching surprise mixed with curiosity and a soupçon of horror cross Bina’s face as she looked from Elliot to Brice and back. Her amusement dissolved, however, as Bina opened her mouth. ‘Oh, so you’re the …’ she started, and Kate winced, afraid of what word she might hear next.
‘… the mathematical one,’ Elliot finished for her.
‘And I’m the emotional one,’ Brice said with an exaggerated sigh. ‘Somebody’s got to do it.’
Kate had to get Bina home and onto her own couch before it became necessary to carry her. She knew once Bina was forced to stay here, Brice and Elliot would dig themselves in deeper. They were kind, but they couldn’t help Bina now and Kate knew she had a big job to do. ‘I know the floor show traditionally precedes dinner, but I did the best I could without hiring tap dancers,’ she said.
‘Ooooh, I love tap dancers,’ Brice crooned and Elliot gave him a look. It didn’t stop Brice from pouring out the next drink for Bina.
‘Put that down,’ Kate said, her voice as stern as the one she had to use in the Andrew Country Day School cafeteria. Here, just like there, it worked. ‘I’m taking Bina home,’ Kate said.
‘Nooooo. I can’t go home. I can never go home again,’ Bina said. ‘Not until I’m engaged anyway.’
‘You’re coming to my apartment,’ Kate said. ‘It isn’t far and you could use the fresh air.’
‘She’s welcome to stay here,’ Elliot offered, and Kate knew his kindness was mixed with an equal part of curiosity.
‘Show’s over,’ Kate said. ‘Say good night, Gracie.’ She pulled the dazed Bina up from the couch and began to walk her to the door.
‘Good night, Gracie,’ Elliot and Brice chorused.
Later, Kate could not remember much about the nightmare of getting Bina back to her place that night. It was called ‘selective memory’ in her textbooks – some things were just too gruesome to keep in your consciousness. In the four long blocks from Elliot’s to Kate’s own apartment, Bina alternately wept, sang, tripped, wailed, and sat down at one point on the sidewalk, refusing to move. Kate didn’t think Bina had tried to throw herself in front of a bus or wet herself but she couldn’t be absolutely sure of either. It was lucky that Max had been home and heard her trying to get Bina up the stairs. Asking no questions, he took over. Kate didn’t remember if he carried Bina up the stairs in his arms or over his shoulder. She did remember holding Bina’s head as she vomited violently, and washing her up. Max had left her to that thankless task. Kate made an executive decision not to put Bina in her bedroom but instead to tuck her up on the sofa. Made in haste, it was a decision that Kate would not regret.
The next morning Kate was up early brewing coffee, laying out the Tylenol, and waiting to call in sick to work. One look at the bedraggled, unconscious Bina gave Kate a pretty good idea of how she was going to spend her next twenty-four hours. She took down her favorite coffee mug. It was the only gift she could remember her father giving her. A molded, ceramic one, the handle was shaped like Cinderella bending over the top of the mug and looking into whatever liquid would be put there, as if it were a wishing well. Then she added another, plain cup to wait until Bina woke. She thought of calling Mrs Horowitz or even trying Jack before he left, then thought better of it. Kate didn’t mind being involved, but she didn’t want to become the puppeteer pulling strings. Bina – despite her many childlike qualities – would have to decide on her own what actions to take and Kate would support her as best she could. She retied her cotton bathrobe tighter around her waist. The radio alarm, when it went off in her bedroom, hadn’t made a ripple on the dark pool of Bina’s unconsciousness, but it had informed Kate that the day was going to be a scorcher for April.
When the phone rang Kate glanced at the caller ID, picked up the receiver and without preamble said, ‘Yes, she’s still sleeping. No, I’m not going into school today and no, you can’t come over.’
‘Good morning to you, too,’ Elliot’s voice said briskly. ‘Can I at least drop off a couple of bagels on my way up to Andrew?’
‘Forget it. I don’t think Bina is going to want to eat anything, and if she does I have plenty of Saltines.’ Kate poured the hot coffee into her Cinderella mug. She was careful, as always, to avoid the little blond head peeking over the rim.
‘God, Brice and I feel so bad for her.’
‘At least you’re not feeling as bad as her … I mean, she is. Bina doesn’t have the genetics to handle a hangover,’ Kate told him. ‘You shouldn’t have let Brice pour all that booze down her throat.’
‘Well, he’s not apologizing for getting her drunk and I think it