Beaches by Iris Rainer Dart Page B

bowling; when Leona laughed at the idea, he said he thought he should
    take Cee Gee more places and be close to her. After that one time bowling, the closeness campaign ended, but Cee Cee was never sure why. Maybe she would ask Nathan about that today.
    Bertie had already finished putting Cee Gee’s things in the suitcase when Cee Cee came out of the bathroom. Bertie led her downstairs. Neetie sat in her car, smoking. She no longer had a handkerchief in her left hand. No one said a word all the way to the bus station. When they got there, Bertie said, “I’ll go,” to her aunt, as if Neetie were dying to walk Cee Cee into the bus station. Neetie turned off the motor and lit another cigarette.
    The bus station was empty, but the eight A M bus stood outside with its doors open. Cee Cee would be the only passenger this morning. Bertie looked at the bus, then at Cee Cee.
    “Cee,” she said. “I promised you last night I’d be your friend forever and I meant it. if you get to New York and it’s too awful, call me and I’ll figure out a way to get there and be with you. Okay?”
    “Okay,” Cee Cee said hoarsely.
    ” “By,” Bertie said. A quick kiss on the cheek and she turned and started for the front door of the station.
    Cee Cee watched her. Bertie. Boberta White. The little girl she’d met on the beach in Atlantic City so long ago. Her pen pal. And now her best friend. Yes. She had to admit it. In spite of John Perry. In spite of the fact that she was so beautiful it was sometimes hard even to stand next to her.
    Cee Cee Bloom had a best friend for the first time in her whole life.
    “Bertie,” she cried out. “Bertie, wait.” Her voice was filled with so much need and so many years of holding it all inside, and with a shrillness that meant, maybe I will never have this moment again, that Bertie turned and ran back to where Cee Cee was standing.
    “Bertie,” Cee Cee said, with tears in her eyes and her throat, “I love you. I love you a lot.”
    Bertie put her arms around Cee Cee, and the two girls stood in the tiny bus station, crying and holding one another tightly.
    Dear Mr. Perry:
    This is to thank you for the six weeks you allowed me to work in your summer theater in Beach Haven and to ask you if it would be all right if I used your name as a reference in the future to obtain employment in my home town. Awaiting your reply, 1 remain
    Sincerely yours, Roberta White
    John,
    For God’s sake, I hope you get this before you get that typed-up formal note my mother made me send to you about references, yipes, it was awful. She stood over me like a police guard. Please send a formal answer. Thinking of you.
    Bertie
    Berta love,
    The funeral was a bore. I’m back in Beach Haven for the last few weeks . . . and, are you ready??? Sit down. I am no longer Cecilia Bloom. I am Cecilia Perry. Leona would die to think I married a goy (a gentile person) if she wasn’t already dead but she is, so tough shit on her.
    Oh, I know you think I’m awful, but John and I have discussed Leona every night and day and we know that she did terrible stuff to me, so how bad can I feel just saying tough shit on her? We will stay in Beach Haven till the theater is all locked up tight, and then, heaven knows what. Maybe the Big Apple and singing lessons for me. John really believes in me, says I am a big big talent and has oodles of contacts. Hope you’ll be at the opening night of my Broadway hit.
    Sincerely,
    Mrs. Cecilia B. Perry (Can you believe it,
    Bert???)
    Dear Miss White:
    The Board of Regents of Pennsylvania State University wish to congratulate you on your acceptance to our School of Liberal Arts.
    VARIETY , June 1962
    Hallie’s Club, Newark. Cee Cee Bloom, a dazzling young thrush, performs a set worthy of bigger and better rooms. The voice is tops, the patter funny. Expect more from Cee Cee Bloom.
    My dear daughter Roberta,
    Naturally, your warm reception into the sisterhood of Chi Omega did not come as a surprise to