The Catch Of Texas. Lass Small

I have to get up in the morning and go to work!”

      “I have to be at the place we’re now working about seven. Without holding you, I’ll be hyper and restless and difficult.”

      Standing on the sofa, supposedly out of reach, she tilted her head back and said, “I shall be worn out and dragging.”

      Frank told her, “Women are strange.”

      “Peculiar?”

      Frank nodded. “Different. We’re boggled by women.”

      So she asked, “Oh? And just how many women do you know?”

      “My mother, my sisters, my cousins. They’re all strange and different just like y—all the other women.”

      She laughed. He’d slid around blaming her so quickly that it amused her.

      He said, “My God. How am I going to behave and leave you be while I want you against me and in my hands?”

      “Control.” She was logical and then said, “Hustle up and leave. I’ve got to get to bed and sleep!”

      Frank said, “Oh.” He’d thought the bed reasoning was a different thing altogether. She meant to sleep? Women! How did God ever do this to another man?

      Geri pulled on Frank’s sleeve so that he got to the door, and she opened it. He looked at her as if he was a zombie.

      She told him, “Good night. Your car is out yonder, right over thataway.” She pointed.

      He nodded, not paying any attention to her chattering at all.

      Geri took his arm and pulled him out the apartment’s door, then she stepped back, closed the door and leaned against it as her body went furiously, cruelly berserk.

      It was a while before she heard his steps go slowly down the stairs. Was he a zombie or was he thoughtfully careful? The light was on. He could see.

      She fought opening the door and looking out to be sure he was all right. If she did that, she’d ruin everything. She’d take him to bed.

      And she began to remember all the things her mother had told her before she left home and got her own apartment. Her mother was opposed to her daughter going out to live in an isolated apartment.

      Her mom was right.

      Geri went to the partial window in her bedroom and looked down into the parking lot.

      His car was there. Where was he?

      Geri stretched to look around, worried. She was just about ready to run down to see if Frank had tripped when he walked slowly into the moonlight, his hands deep in his pockets.

      He was all right. But he moved so slowly! Was he ill? She thought she ought to run down and see if she should take him to the—He stopped again, pushed his hands down deeper in his pants pockets, as he leaned his head back.

      Was he going to howl at the moon? Dogs did it easily. Would he?

      She watched. She was different than she’d ever been in all her life. Why should she be interested in Frank. Would he howl? How would she respond to that? Would she be shocked? Or would she open the half window and howl back?

      Surely not.

      Frank stood, looking up at the moon. He had no idea Geri was watching him through a window. Finally he moved and went over to his car. He got into it and sat there as if he didn’t have a key.

      Geri smiled. He would come ba—

      The car’s engine started. It throbbed just like her heart. Frank moved the car easily and slowly. He carefully went out of the lot and on down the exit road out of sight by the trees.

      He was gone.

      He’d been there with her.

      She moved her hands on her body. She wished they were his hands. She breathed. She put her hands to her face in agony. She paced. She went into the bathroom and stripped. Then she got into the shower and stood as the water came down on her body. She moved her head. Her hair didn’t need water.

      She was disgruntled. She was alone. She could have been in bed with him right that minute!

      No.

      What she needed was a good run, then to go to bed and sleep!

      So Geri turned off the shower and got out. She dried herself roughly, then put on her silken red runner outfit. She locked the door as she went out...and she had the key.

      That had become automatic. She’d forgotten the keys so many times that she’d taught herself to have one along. She got really ticked with having another made.

      The crew wouldn’t give her a key. They figured if they gave her one, she’d just lose it. This way, she was more careful. Annoyed, but more careful.

      So she ran around the apartments a while in the moonlight and irritated the evening crew who watched what was going on. They mentioned that she ought to go to bed and quit running around that late at night.

      So she told them to hush! She had a problem, and she was trying to solve it. She needed them to leave her be!

      That scared the liver out of them, and they had to watch her to be sure she wasn’t snatched or didn’t fall and break a leg.

      When she called “Good night!” cheerfully, they were indignant. She was their worst person at the place. They never knew what the hell she’d do next. They watched her, frowning, just waiting for her to go to her own place.

      She did. They communicated by transmitters in their shirt pockets. “She’s in her place.”

      And the others said a really snide, “Glory be.” They mumbled it in throat-squeezing, muscle-tight irritation.

      

      Upstairs, in the apartment, Geri stripped the sweaty, hot, red silk off her body. Then after she showered again, she crawled into bed and went right to sleep. To sleep—perchance to dream?

      Naw. She slept, out cold, a deep sleep.

      

      On her way home the next evening, on her car phone, Geri called her friends at their offices. They were a tad later leaving than she. So she asked Margaret Buckman, Marian Terse and Dorothy Oswald to come to dinner that night or the next.

      The three said, “Tonight” and hung up. That meant they probably wouldn’t bring any food along but expected to be fed. Okay. So she’d do that.

      Geri went to the grocery and spoke to all the people who worked there, plus all those shopping. She didn’t actually know them all, but her grandfather had been in politics and he always spoke to everybody, and she had the same habit.

      It was interesting that some people didn’t look up at all, or they looked at the stranger with some startled indignation.

      Geri never noticed. She was always in a hurry. That’s the way her grandfather had been, and she simply felt the need to speak...as he did. He was very fragile and amused. He smiled always. That was a cheerful thing to do, and so Geri did it, too. It was the way of the family.

      Her mother thought it was nice that Geri copied her grandfather. Geri’s daddy thought she was a tad odd. He told his brothers that his daughter was a whole lot like her mother’s people.

      His brothers nodded. They never said anything. They just agreed.

      So Geri went to her apartment with all the goodies for supper. She sorted out things and put some into the oven and some into the refrigerator.

      She set the table and had everything ready when her three friends arrived, already caught up in a marvelously complicated discussion in which they included Geri. They all talked and listened and laughed. They washed their hands and settled down to eat.

      They told Geri that they’d found a cat on their way over that had been lost. She was