The Burglar in the Rye Read Online Free PDF Page A

been sneaking stares all night and you’re doing it again.”
    “Sorry.”
    “Maybe you need another drink. But I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
    “Neither am I. Carolyn, you look different. That’s why I’ve been staring.”
    “I guess it’s the hair.”
    “That’s what I thought, but there’s something else, isn’t there? What is it?”
    “You’re seeing things, Bern.”
    “It’s lipstick,” I said. “Carolyn, you’re wearing lipstick!”
    “Not so loud! What’s the matter with you, Bern?”
    “Sorry, but—”
    “How would you like it? ‘Hey, Bern, what’s with the blusher and mascara?’ And next thing you know the whole room’s gawking at you.”
    “I said I was sorry. You took me by surprise, that’s all.”
    “Yeah, it was a real sneak attack. We’ve been sitting here for close to an hour, and I just now snuck up and ambushed you.”
    “Lipstick,” I said.
    “Cut it out, Bern. It’s not such a big deal.”
    “Long hair and lipstick.”
    “Not long hair. Longer, that’s all. And the lipstick’s just to add a little color.”
    “Why else would anyone wear it? That’s all it ever does, it adds color.”
    “Right. So don’t make a federal case out of it, okay?”
    “Lipstick,” I marveled. “My best friend is turning into a lipstick lesbian.”
    “Bern…”
    “So long, L. L. Bean,” I said. “Hello, Victoria’s Secret.”
    “Some secret. You know how many of those catalogs they mail out every month? They don’t make money on me, Bern. All I like to do is look at the pictures.”
    “If you say so.”
    “It’s not like I’ve got a closet full of flannel shirts, you know. I’ve never dressed all that butch. A blazer and slacks doesn’t make me a diesel dyke, does it?”
    “Far from it.”
    “And it’s just a touch of lipstick. You sat across the table from me for a whole hour without noticing it.”
    “I noticed it,” I said. “I just didn’t know what I was noticing.”
    “My point exactly. It’s not blatant. Just a subtle touch.”
    “Of femininity.”
    “Of youth,” she said. “If I were a teenager I wouldn’t need it, but I’m old enough so nature can use a little help. Don’t look at me like that, Bern.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like that. All right, dammit. It was Erica’s idea. Are you happy now?”
    “I was already happy.”
    “She’s a genuine lipstick lesbian,” she said, “and that’s something I’ve never objected to, Bern, philosophically or aesthetically. I like lipstick lesbians. I think they’re hot.” She shrugged. “I just never thought I was going to be one, that’s all. I didn’t think I was cut out for it.”
    “But now you’ve changed your mind?”
    “Erica thinks it’s low self-esteem, and not feeling confident about my looks. And she thinks a softer hairstyle and a little lipstick will change my self-image, and I have to say I think she’s right. Anyway, she likes me this way.”
    “Can’t argue with results.”
    “That’s what I figure.”
    “And you look nice,” I said. “I’ll tell you, I can’t wait to see how you look in a dress.”
    “Cut it out, Bern.”
    “Something low-cut, with lace trimming. That’s always nice. Or one of those scoop-necked peasant blouses, the gypsy look. That might work for you.”
    She rolled her eyes.
    “Or a dirndl,” I went on. “What’s a dirndl, anyway? What does it look like?”
    “To me,” she said, “it always looks like a typographical error. Beyond that I don’t know what it is, and I don’t plan on knowing. Could we talk about something else, Bern?”
    “Earrings,” I suggested. “Gold hoops would be good with the peasant blouse, but how will they look with the dirndl?”
    “Keep going, Bern. What are we gonna talk about next? Panty hose? High heels?”
    “And perfume,” I said, and sat up and sniffed the air. “You’re wearing perfume!”
    “It’s a cologne,” she said, “and I’ve been keeping a bottle at the Poodle Factory