Turee seemed unperturbed at the request, as if it was a very familiar one. “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know. Something, anyway.”
“Be more explicit.”
“I can’t. All I know is, if I’m expected to do all the disciplining in the family, the children will grow up thinking I’m an ogre. They’ll have complexes.”
“Ogress. And they’ll have complexes anyway.”
“Sandra’s the instigator of this whole thing. I feel like spanking the daylights out of her.”
“Go ahead and do it, then.”
“You’re no help at all!”
Turee rose, kissed her on the left cheek, and pushed her gently toward the doorway.
The wine, the warmth of the kitchen, the playing-out of the little domestic scene, all combined to cast a flush across Harry’s face. He fidgeted with his empty glass, rolling the stem back and forth between his palms, and a glint of moisture shone in his eyes. “I can’t stay here, Ralph. I wish I could. But seeing you and Nancy — and the kids — well, I guess I couldn’t stand it. You understand.”
Turee was grave. “Make your own decision. I was only trying to help.”
“No one can help me. I’ve got to go it alone.”
It was the same sentiment Turee had heard Thelma express, and he wondered how deeply either of them meant it and how far either of them would go alone. Together, leaning on each other, entwined in marriage, they’d been able to remain upright, as cornstalks in a field can withstand a high wind.
“What you suggested on Monday,” Harry continued, “about leaving town, applying for a transfer, it’s beginning to make sense to me now.”
“Good.”
“I’m sure they’ll give me a transfer. I’m a good salesman and there’s nothing in the record against me, except that business on Monday. Maybe if I go away for a while Thelma will actually miss me, eh?”
“Maybe.”
“She might even change her mind. I could always send for her then, her and the baby, couldn’t I? I mean, it’s not impossible, is it?”
“Not at all.”
“She’s always wanted to leave this town anyway.”
Not with you, Turee thought, refilling Harry’s glass. “I realize that.”
“Say, you know something, Ralph? For the first time in days I’m beginning to feel that things are making sense again. Don’t you feel that, Ralph? Things will work out?”
“Certainly.”
“I guess I was practically going off my rocker for a while there, staying up all night, thinking, trying to figure things out, not eating, not seeing anybody. I feel quite different now. Almost hopeful, you know?” He paused to sip at his wine and wipe the beads of moisture from his face with the back of his hand. “Now why did I say almost? I don’t mean it. I mean very. Very hopeful. You were right, Ralph. I’ve got a future. I’ve really got a future, haven’t I?”
“Of course.” Turee saw Harry’s bright new smile, and the bright new confident look in his eye, and anxiety began to gnaw at his mind with the teeth of rodents. Harry was on his way up again, the long erratic journey up, like a crazed bird, or a misguided missile darting wildly in and out of the orbits of meteorites. “Harry. Listen. Don’t get too high.”
“Now that’s a funny remark. A few minutes ago you were trying to cheer me up and now that I’m cheered up, what are you trying to do? Puncture me? Well, you can’t, old boy. I feel wonderful, see, I feel...”
“Harry, before you leave town, I think you should hire a lawyer.”
Harry’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “Lawyer? What for?”
“For Thelma.”
“So she can divorce me? Is that what you mean?”
“No, no,” Turee said impatiently. “She’s going to need someone to protect her interests, that’s all.”
“Why? I’m going to protect her interests. I’ll send her every cent I can spare.”
“I know that. But suppose something happens to you — you become sick and can’t work, you get hurt in an accident — what then? Thelma would be left alone with a child to support.”
“I don’t see how a lawyer would help that.”
“You’re not thinking straight, Harry. The child is Ron’s — he’s admitted paternity — therefore his estate should be made responsible financially for the child’s upbringing.”
“Thelma would never take a cent from Esther. She’s too proud.”
“Pride be damned. There should be nothing personal in this situation. Thelma may be proud, Esther may be reluctant, you may be all churned up, but the fact remains that the child has a legal right to support. That’s where the lawyer comes in. He’ll act in the child’s best interests. His own, too. I understand in cases like this where a considerable amount of money is involved, they work on a percentage basis.”
“What exactly do you mean, a considerable amount of money?”
“I didn’t mean anything exact. All I’m saying is that Thelma should have a lawyer.”
“But then there’d be a lawsuit. Everything would come out in the newspapers.”
“If Esther’s lawyers advise her to fight the case, there’d be a lawsuit, yes, but I don’t think they will. And if they did, I don’t think she’d accept their advice. At the moment Esther’s pretty bitter about Thelma, but she’s not really a vindictive woman. She’ll simmer down between now and the time the child is born.”
“What it boils down to, then, is begging Esther for money. Well, I won’t do it. To hell with it. I can support Thelma and the child, and no begging necessary.”
“Oh, be reasonable, Harry. Why deprive the kid of its legal right? I know how willing you are to support it, but it’s going to grow up, to need things, housing, clothing, education. Ask me, I’m an expert. I’ve been broke for fourteen years and no doubt will continue that way for another fourteen. Kids are expensive. They don’t always stay in the cradle, wearing diapers and living on milk. They need shoes, dolls, new suits, bicycles, baseball mitts, piano lessons, there are doctors’ bills, dentists’ bills...”
“All right,” Harry said listlessly. “Don’t go on. You’re telling me I can’t afford all those things.”
“No. I’m telling you you don’t have to. Thelma and the child are entitled to be kept in comfort and there’s no sensible reason why they shouldn’t be, except your pride and Thelma’s, if pride is the right word.”
“I don’t need charity.”
“Keep yourself out of it, Harry. Because you’re not really in it. You’ll have to face that squarely.” Turee paused, pressing his fingertips against his temples as if to press his thoughts into the right phrases. “You’re not really in it,” he repeated. “I think you’ve been daydreaming this past week, Harry. I think you’ve half convinced yourself that nothing took place between Ron and Thelma, that the child is actually your own. Don’t keep on like this, Harry, it’s dangerous.”
“But suppose...”
“There’s no supposing about it. The child is Ron’s. Now accept the fact and go on from there. If you keep setting up delusions to stumble over, you’ll get nowhere. Why can’t you face the truth?”
“I guess — I’ll have to.” The long erratic journey up had ended for Harry. The crazed bird had grown weary, the misguided missile had struck a meteorite and was falling through space. “I couldn’t give her the child she wanted. I tried. God knows I tried. I’ve been going to a doctor for over a year without telling her. I covered up for myself by pretending that I didn’t want her to have a child because of her health, her age.”
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth, Harry?”
“I wasn’t sure, at first. Then when I was sure, I was afraid to tell her. After that, when I began taking treatments and pills — well, I kept hoping things would change. They changed all right,” he added grimly. “In a way I never thought possible. My best friend, and my wife.”