Chapter 42

They were only traveling a short distance- right next door. John knocked on the door and a moment later it was opened by a man, Billie assuming him to be the same one that had opened the door for her some days ago. The circumstances were better now and even the man didn't seem so harsh anymore. If anything he almost looked amused as the two of them entered the apartment, his eyes precariously falling to herself. There was noise, as there always seemed to be, coming from the other room and they were escorted there immediately.

It was a similar scene to the one Billie had witnessed before, but now there were even more people gathered around the table. There were men, mostly, and they were all seated, playing cards and glasses and ashtrays littering the surface of the table. One chair at the head of the table and the one closest to them stood empty, it apparently John's for the taking. The man hovered on the threshold of the room, Billie shyly standing somewhat behind him, and the whole while he held her hand securely. A satisfied expression played on his face.

"Everyone, this is Billie."

She felt her heart pounding out of her chest, afraid to imagine what look her face displayed. In an effort to disguise her jitters she merely smiled, just barely glancing to all the faces that looked her way. Hesitantly she looked up at John, waiting and wanting him to make the next move. He looked beyond pleased, a light in his eye, and he walked them toward the chair. He sat first, Billie almost frowning that he hadn't offered her the seat when she realized he was suggesting she sit on his lap. "C'mear, doll."

The rules, if there were any, were different here. They were among friends and could be completely open with their relationship for the first time. It was kind of a thrill to spend time together in the company of others, a new situation they had yet to experience. Billie thought she might be blushing but did not deny him, settling herself on his knee. John was still smiling as he began the introductions around the table.

There was Walter Dietrich, Russell Clark and Charles Makley, men of hardened expressions that made it difficult to discern their age. Harry Pierpont, otherwise known as 'Pete,' was handsome and eyed her excitedly. Red Hamilton nodded in her direction, briefly waving again with his few fingers, in the lamplight then able to see the hue to his short hair that devised the nickname. Last there was the man who liked opening doors, Homer Van Meter. Aside from herself there were only two other women, one sitting in a chair next to Red, Jane, and one hanging close to Pete, Mairy.

Jane looked at her kindly, smiling. Her hair was a dull shade between light brown and blonde and she wore little make up, if any, and her clothes were equally modest. Mairy on the other hand had dark hair whose lips were painted a dark shade of red. She wore a crude expression, which wasn't to say she wasn't attractive, for if she smiled Billie imagined she would have been very pretty. Instead she stared at her with a heavy brow, her face creased with annoyance and displeasure. Even her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she paced back and fourth between Pete and a stool some feet away.

Billie wasn't sure if the woman was upset with her, or the fact that she clearly wasn't offered or considered to have a more decent seat.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Pete said smoothly, smiling at her. He had a scruffy kind of charm; dark hair and dark eyes but with a slightly unkempt appearance. It looked as though he hadn't shaved in a few days and there were prominent but charming creases that outlined his smile. Billie thought that John was easily the most handsome man out of the group, but Pete didn't seem to do too bad for himself. In fact, John would never admit to it, but he felt a certain kind of rivalry toward him; if anyone were to overpower him, in any way, the only man he ever feared could really do so was Pete.

"Hello," Billie returned his smile. Mairy seemed even more irked that Pete had spoken to her and that he seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Can I get you a drink?"

The man was speaking casually but in a way that was utterly engaging; he was flirting, and it was such a natural reaction Pete had to woman, especially those that appealed to him, that the other men barely noticed. Mairy had stepped even closer to Pete, glaring at him but his attention was solely on Billie.

"Aren't you going to ask me?" John asked with mock offense. When John was actually angry his whole body reacted- his jaw clenched and his nose flared and his eyes became fiery. Now he showed little of those reactions and what did come across was insincere. John could have guessed that Pete would react in such a way to Billie but he wasn't bothered; Pete could admire her, but John was the one that had her.

He would have whiskey, dry, and Billie simply asked for water. Pete was already leaving his chair when Mairy spoke for the first time. "Are you sure? We have milk."

Billie looked up and the two women exchanged a stare. Mairy's was direct and feigning innocence, while Billie processed a brutal realization. After only having met a matter of minutes, if not only seconds before, it was clear that Mairy disliked her and had no shame or fear in making that fact known. For whatever reason she had decided to tease her, maliciously, and instantly Billie accepted this form of attack. It would be foolish and even more damming to ignore it.

Someone at the table snickered, while the rest remained silent, afraid or intimidated by the sudden exchange in women. Jane was clearly frowning, looking to the other woman with distaste. Billie did not react, at least not physically, but she could feel John tense up. "You trying to make a joke, Mairy?"

Mairy almost shrugged but gave the hint of a proud smile, glancing down the table to Charles, the only person who had laughed. Making Charles laugh was nothing to be proud of.

Pete returned with the drinks, taking his seat, and John took a small sip. A round of cards had begun, John dealt in. For whatever reason the women weren't playing. Billie gazed down at John's cards then shot back up to the table when someone spoke to her.

It was Walter. "That a French accent?"

"How you know she got an accent? She only said one word," another man spoke.

"Yes. I'm French."

"She's Native American, too," John put in without looking up, calculating his cards.

Someone started to laugh. "You mean we got a chug on our hands?"

"Hey Red, we're gonna give her your nickname."

"Good thing she ain't drinkin'!"

"Easy fellas," John warned ominously. Most of them were likely half-drunk already, and he knew there was nothing under their insults except their own want to laugh. Still, he didn't want to hear more of it. Billie tolerated their teasing, knowing it was in an entirely different tone than Mairy's, and rubbed John's knee under the table to assure him of this. John smiled to himself at the touch. He let his hand rest against her hip, moving it to her lower back depending on which way he was leaning.

"You know, I learned a little French in school," Russell commented. "My mother wanted me to, I still dunno why. Où se trouvent les toilettes?" he said to Billie choppily.

"Ah," she laughed. "Je ne sais pas, mais c'est très bon."

"I don't like it when people do that," Pete said with a frown, put off by the strange language. "I think they're talking about me."

"You're not that important," Jane spoke finally, rolling her eyes.

"I asked where the toilet was," Russel clarified to others chuckles. "The only phrase I really learned...and 'Nique ta mere!' Oh," he stuttered when he looked down the table and saw Billie's wide eyes. "Jesus, I didn't mean-"

She held up a hand to silence him, understanding. He had said something very crude about somebody's mother, but Billie knew he was only showing off. She guessed it was typical that he'd been more interested in profanity.

"Honestly," Jane muttered, admonishing the men's behavior. "Don't let them bother you, Billie." The woman smiled down at her and for the first time Billie imagined it was possible she could have found a friend.