“Oh, well, you know how it is, Fox,” said Al.
Lebrix nodded. “Oh, pardon,” he said. “You have your dinner? Have a drink?”
“No, just a cuppa coffee.”
“Café Royale?”
“No, thanks, Fox. Just coffee. No drinks for me tonight.”
“Too bad. I’ll order coffee.” He pushed a button under the top of the desk and told a waiter to serve Al’s coffee. “Lots of reservations tonight. Several parties from Gibbsville, and a big dinner from Taqua. Jews. And that politician, Donovan, he has the nerve to reserve a table for ten for tonight. Cheap bastard son of a bitch.”
“He’ll pay,” said Al.
“Sure he’ll pay. He’ll hand me a century, like a big heavy spender, and I’m soppose to thank him politely, but then I give him his change and it’s ten sawbucks. The waiters are lucky if they get a tip. That’s the way he is, the cheap bastard son of a bitch. I’d like to give him a Mickey Finn. I never gave one of those in my life, but if I do, he will be the first.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I know. You want to sit with Helene tonight?”
“I guess that’s the best way.”
“Yes, I think so. Some of our guests, they get some of this so-called champagne in their bellies, and Miss Holman will begin to think she is Mistinguett.”
“What?”
“French entertainer. Yes, if your job is to keep an eye on her, you better be where she can see you so she will not forget herself. It’s Christmas, my friend. She may give something away.”
“Huh. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“So?” said Lebrix.
4
They were driving south on the way to the club, down South Main Street. Caroline was smoking a cigarette and holding Julian’s hand. He took the hand away to do shave-and-a-haircut on the horn button, signaling to the Cadillac just ahead of their own.
“Who’s that?” said Caroline.
“A good prospect,” said Julian. “Young Al Grecco.”
“Who’s he? I know him by name. Who is he?”
“He’s a sort of a yes man for Ed Charney,” said Julian. The coupé in front turned off to the left, to the Lincoln Street bridge, and apparently Al Grecco did not hear the signal. He did not turn his head or answer with bay-rum on the horn of the coupé.
“Oh, he’s the one that went to Philadelphia for the champagne. Did he get it?” said Caroline.
“If Mr. Charney wants champagne, whoever is told to get it, gets it.”
“Oh, I don’t believe it. Why are people so afraid of him?”
“I’m afraid of him,” said Julian.
“You are not. You’re not afraid of anyone. My big strong man. My mate.”
“Nuts to you, sister,” he said.
“Don’t call me sister, and don’t say nuts.”
“Say masticate,” said Julian. “God, did you ever hear anyone like Mother? Did you hear her telling the old gent not to say masticate? You know she hasn’t the remotest idea why she doesn’t like the word.”
“I’ll bet she has. Women aren’t that dumb.”
“I say she hasn’t the remotest idea why she doesn’t like the word. Somewhere in the back of her mind the sound of the word has a dirty connotation, but what it is she isn’t sure. So she thinks she prefers simple language. Did you ever masticate?”
“None of your business.”
“Did you?”
“I’m getting a little tired of this,” said Caroline.
“So am I,” said Julian. They rode for a while, and then he said: “When are we going to have a kid?”
“I don’t know. When are we?” she said.
“No, seriously, when are we?”
“You know. The five years will be up soon.”
“The Five Year Plan,” he said slowly. “Well, maybe you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. Look at these kids, Jeanie and Chuck. Married less than two years, hardly more than a year, and Jeanie may have to have false teeth. Mind you, false teeth, and do you remember her teeth? She had the loveliest strong white teeth I ever saw—”
“Except yours.”
“Well, except mine. But hers were beautiful and just right. Smallish and nice and really sparkling. Mine are bigger, and they don’t sparkle.”
“They dazzle me,” he said. He snapped off the headlights. “We’ll use your sparkling teeth for headlights.”
“Put the lights on, you fool,” she said. “No kidding, it’s awful. She’s only twenty-one. Just twenty-one, and she’s absolutely a married woman. A married woman with a child. And—”
“And a husband. And what a husband.”
“Exactly!” said Caroline. “Chuck. That little twirp Jeanie. Why, he isn’t good enough to…”
“To what. Finish it.”
“No, I’m not fooling. Chuck running around with that girl from Kresge’s and the other day at bridge club Barbara Schultz spoke up and said, ‘Well, I think someone ought to defend poor Chuck.’ Poor Chuck! She said, ‘If Jeanie had taken the trouble to keep herself attractive, Chuck wouldn’t chase after other girls.’ Golly it made me mad. She must have read that somewhere. I didn’t say anything, and neither did anyone else, but you could see what everybody was thinking. Barbara’s such a fool for letting herself in for that. Why, she did everything but handcuff Chuck to make him marry her.”
“She did? I didn’t know that. I know they had dates, but I never thought—”
“No? Well, here’s something else you didn’t know. Mrs. Schultz was so sure Barbara was going to get Chuck that she made reservations for two for a trip around the world—”
“Well, she and old Stinker went around the world.”
“Yes, but Mother told me that she was in Mr. Schultz’s office when—”
“God damn it to hell!” said Julian. He stopped the car. “Crosslink broke. I might as well fix it now while I’m sober.” He got out of the car and fixed the link. They did not speak to each other during the five-minute wait. Cars drove by and one or two stopped, recognizing Julian and the car, asking if they could help, but he sent them on.
He started the car again. “Hyuh, baby,” he said. “What were we talking about? Had we finished with Chuck?”
“Mm.”
“What’s the mattah, honey sugah lamb pie, what’s the mattah you all?”
“Listen, Ju. Listen to me, will you?”
“Listen to you? Why, Mrs. English, one of the most attractive features of the Cadillac is the minimum of noise in the motor. Just let me show—”
“No. Don’t be funny.”
“What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something? Christ, I thought we were getting along fine.”
“We were, but something you said worried me. See, you don’t even remember saying it.”
“Well, come on. Out with it, dearie. What did I say?”
“When you stopped the car. When you got out to fix the chain, you said something about you were going to fix it now, while you were sober.”
“Oh,” he said.
“As if—”
“I get it. You don’t have to draw a map.”
“Now you’re annoyed. Aren’t you?”
“No. Yes, slightly. I don’t know. What the hell. I don’t blame you.”
“I’m sorry, darling. I don’t want to be a wet towel or anything, but I couldn’t go through another half hour like that last night—I’d rather die.”
“I know. I’m terribly sorry, Callie. I won’t get drunk.”
“Please don’t,” she said. “Please. And I’ll do anything. Let’s get through these holidays without any more mess or jam or anything. I don’t want to give you a pep talk—”