Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 19.2: 1967, Georgina

Chapter 19.2: 1967, Georgina

 

"ʼA gwtn ʼáwwnt?" a silky, sleepy voice asked in Yiddish.

"Yeah, good evening to you, too. Yeah. You slut. You better get over here right now and comfort your damn boyfriend, he's driving me up the wall," I barked at Avi over the phone. 

"Oh?" he asked in a hushed way. 

"What do you mean 'oh'? You know what you fucking did to him tonight. Get your ass over here and bring a bottle of scotch," I scolded, pressing the phone to my ear closer as Paulie banged his forehead on the wall, sobbing silently, his eyes pressed closed so hard they looked sewn shut.

"What is this banging sound?" Avi asked, concerned.

"Its your fucking boyfriend trying to kill himself," I hissed at him.

"Fuck," Avi said.

"Yeah, 'fuck'," I repeated. 

"Well, I can not go over there tonight. Esther is still here."

My eyebrow raised. "Who the fuck is Esther?" I barked.

A long wail like a banshee rose from Paulie and he sank to the floor, his forehead sliding against the wall as he went. My mouth dropped open, his reaction telling me exactly who Esther was.

"Is Esther that FUCKING WHORE YOU WERE WITH AT THE WEDDING?!" I shrieked, wanting to throw the phone at the wall as if Avi were standing there. I wanted to break his fucking head open!

"She is not whore, she is librarian," Avi said in a hushed way in his thick accent.

I heard faint female sounds on Avi's end, near to the receiver. It sounded like she said, "baby, who is that?"

"That bitch had better not have said what I THINK she just said," I said, dumbfounded.

"Look, is 2AM. We talk about this in morning," Avi said casually.

"You are a fucking goddamned I can't even...I can't even...believe!" I spat into the phone. 

"We talk in morning."

"DON'T YOU DARE EVER TALK TO US AGAIN!" I shrieked at him.

"We talk in morning," he repeated.

I let out a growling shriek and slammed the receiver down on the phone's holder. My breath came in spurts, the very air in my lungs angry. After while I became aware of the squeaking sobs behind me, against the wall like a rejected kitten crying for its mother. "Avi...Avi Avi Avi..." Paulie was whimpering, clawing at the wall.

"Oh god, Paulie," I breathed in, tears springing to my eyes at his state on the floor. He was still wearing his disheveled brown suit from the wedding reception, all crumpled now and stained where he had spilled some of my bourbon which he had tried to drown his sorrows in earlier. 

I crawled over to him, scooping him into my arms. He buried his face into my bare shoulder, grabbing at the lace of my white nightgown, covering his face with it. All I could do was hug him close to me as he ruined my favorite nightgown which Frankie had given to me. Rage spread over me, because if Avi hadn't done this shit Paulie wouldn't be rubbing his snot on my imported French lace nightgown right now.

"That fuck..." I growled, "that fucker..."

"No, don't call him...that name...don't..." came a small whimper muffled by fabric.

"Paulie," I gasped, not able to believe what I was hearing.

"He loves me, he does...he loves me..." Paulie choked. "He doesn't love her...he doesn't like women...he likes me...he likes..."