As he passed the living-room he saw a piled row of packages, obviously gifts, on the table in the middle of the room. But Caroline was not in the room, so he did not stop. He went back to the dining-room and pushed open the swinging-door to the butler’s pantry. “Just some orange juice and coffee, Mary, please,” he said.
“The orange juice is on the table, Mr. English,” she said.
He drank it. It had ice, glorious ice, in it. Mary brought in the coffee and when she had gone he inhaled the steam of it. It was as good as drinking it. He drank some of it black, without sugar, first. He put one lump of sugar in it and drank some more. He put some cream in it and lit a cigarette. “I’d be all right if I could stay here,” he thought. “If I could just stay here for the rest of my life and never see another soul. Except Caroline. I’d have to have Caroline.”
He finished his coffee, took a sip of ice water, and left the dining-room. He was standing in front of the table, with its pile of gifts, when he heard someone stamping on the porch, and almost immediately the door opened and it was Caroline.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hello,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Where’ve you been?”
“Took some things to the Harley kids,” she said. She hung up her camel’s hair coat in the closet under the stairs. “Bubbie said to wish you a Merry Christmas and he told me to ask you if you wanted to ride on his new Flexie. I told him I didn’t think you would, this morning.” She sat down and began to unbuckle her arctics. She had beautiful legs that not even the heavy woolen plaid stockings could distort. “Look,” she said.
“I’m looking,” he said.
“Don’t be funny,” she said, and pulled her skirt down. “I want you to listen. This is what I want to say: I think you’d better take that bracelet back to Caldwell’s.”
“Why? Don’t you like it?”
“I like it all right. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, but you can’t afford it. I know how much it cost.”
“So what?” he said.
“Well, just this. I think we’ll probably need every cent we can save from now on.”
“Why?”
She lit a cigarette. “Well, you fixed it last night. No point in going into why you threw that drink at Harry, but I just want to tell you this much, you’ve made an enemy for life.”
“Oh, no. Naturally he’s sore, but I’ll be able to fix it. I can handle that.”
“That’s what you think. I’ll tell you something. Have you any idea how news travels in this town? Maybe you think you have, but listen to me. I just came from the Harleys’, the only people I’ve seen except Mary since last night, and almost the first thing Herbert Harley said when I got in the house was, ‘Well, I’m glad somebody put Harry Reilly in his place at last.’ Of course I tried to laugh it off as if it were just a joke between you and Harry, but do you realize what that means, Herbert Harley’s knowing about it so soon? It means the story’s got all over town already. Somebody must have told the Harleys over the phone, because I know Herbert hasn’t had his car out. There aren’t any tracks in their driveway.”
“Well, what of it?”
“What of it? You stand there and ask me what of it? Don’t you realize what that means, or are you still drunk? It just means that the whole town knows what you did, and when Harry realizes that, he’ll do anything short of murder to get even with you. And I don’t have to tell you that he won’t have to commit murder to get even with you.” She stood up and smoothed her skirt. “So—I think you’d better take the bracelet back to Caldwell’s.”
“But I want you to have it. I paid for it.”
“They’ll take it back. They know you.”
“I can afford it,” he said.
“No, you can’t,” she said. “Besides, I don’t want it.”
“You mean you don’t want to take it from me?”
She hesitated a moment, and bit her lip and nodded. “Yes. I guess that’s what I mean.”
He went to her and put his hands on her arms. She did not move except to turn her head away from him. “What’s the matter?” he said. “Reilly doesn’t mean anything to you, for God’s sake, does he?”
“No. Not a thing. But you’d never believe that.”
“Oh, ridiculous,” he said. “I never thought you were having an affair with him.”
“Didn’t you? Are you sure you didn’t?” She freed herself. “Maybe you didn’t actually think I was having an affair with him, but part of the time you wondered whether I was. That’s just as bad. And that’s the real reason why you threw the drink in his face.”
“I might have thought you kissed him, but I never thought you were having an affair with him. And the only real reason why I threw a drink in his face was I just happen to dislike him. I can’t stand his stupid Irish face, that’s all. And those stories.”
“His face looked pretty good last summer when you needed money, and by the way, here’s something you’d better not overlook. Perhaps you think people are going to be on your side if it comes to the point where people take sides in this. Perhaps you think all your friends will stick by you, and maybe you think that’s going to frighten him because he wants to run the Assembly. Well, just don’t count too much on that, because practically every single one of your best friends, with one or two exceptions, all owe Harry Reilly money.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me,” she said. “Maybe Jack and Carter and Bob and the rest would like to be on your side, and maybe in any other year they would stick by you, but I don’t have to tell you there’s a depression in this country, and Harry Reilly’s practically the only man around here with any money.”
“I’ll bet he comes to our party,” said Julian.
“If he does you can thank me. I’ll do my best, but my heart won’t be in the work.” She looked at him. “Oh, God, Ju, why did you do it? Why do you do things like that?” She began to cry, but when he went to her she held him away. “It’s all so awful and I used to love you so.”
“I love you. You know that.”
“It’s too easy. The things you called me on the way home—whore and bitch and a lot worse—they weren’t anything compared with the public humiliation.” She accepted his handkerchief. “I’ve got to change,” she said.
“Do you think Mother and Dad know about it?”
“No, I doubt it. Your father’d be over here if he knew. Oh, how should I know?” She walked out and then came back. “My present is at the bottom of the pile,” she said.
That made him feel worse. Under all the other packages was something she had bought days, maybe weeks, before, when things were not so bad as they now appeared to be. When she bought that she was concentrating on him and what he would like; rejecting this idea and that idea, and deciding on one thing because it was something he wanted or something he would want. Caroline was one person who really did put a lot of thought into a gift; she knew when to choose the obvious thing. One time she had given him handkerchiefs for Christmas; no one else had given him handkerchiefs, and they were what he wanted. And whatever was in the package, she had bought with him alone in mind. He could not guess from the size of the box what was inside it. He opened it. It was two gifts: a pigskin stud box, big enough to hold two sets of studs, with plenty of room inside for assorted collar buttons, collar pins, tie clasps—and Caroline had put in a dozen or so front and back collar buttons. The other gift was of pigskin, too: a handkerchief case that collapsed like an accordion. Both things had J. McH. E. stamped in small gilt letters on the top cover, and that in itself showed thought. She knew, and no one else in the world knew, that he liked things stamped J. McH. E., and not just J. E., or J. M. E. Maybe she even knew why he liked it that way; he wasn’t sure himself.