“I can’t.”
“Then we’ll talk here.”
Her lips tightened. Her knuckles were white against the edge of the desk. “I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”
He walked out onto the front steps, leaned against the front of the building, and lit a cigarette. It was a good five minutes before she came out. She looked angry.
“What is this all about, Mack?”
He looked into the gray eyes, saw them slide uneasily away. “I guess you misunderstood me, Erica. Hell, I was just being friendly. Quent told me you worked here mornings, and I had a call and I was going by, so I stopped in. That Quent, he’s a fine boy, don’t you think?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Of course I think so.”
“Guys like that are rare. You know... idealistic, dedicated. I was telling Marie last night that I lost my illusions when I was sixteen.”
“Too bad, Mack.”
“We’ll have to have an evening together, Erica.”
“Really, I don’t see...”
“Just the four of us again. What do you say?”
She half turned away from him. “That would be nice. I have to go back in now.”
“I’ll work it out with Quent, then.”
“Yes, do that.”
“Or we could go on a picnic. Hell, I haven’t been on a picnic in years.”
“I really have to go in, Mack.”
“Nice to see you, Erica.”
She gave him a tentative smile and went in quickly. He held the big door open and watched her go up the several steps to the main floor. He watched her coldly and he saw the faint awkwardness of her as she went up the steps, and he knew that she was aware of his eyes on her.
He went down the street toward the club, deciding to have a drink before lunch. A slight celebration. A one-man celebration. He was smiling a bit.
As the day ended, and Mrs. Ober was leaving, Mack went in and sat on the corner of Quent’s desk and said, “I stopped in and saw Erica today when I went by the library.”
Quent stared at him. “What for?”
“What for? To make a date with her, maybe? Use your head. No, I had the idea that it would be nice if the four of us went on a picnic. How long since you’ve been on a picnic?”
Quent relaxed. “Years. You asked her? What did she say?”
“She seemed to go for the idea. Marie is a hell of a good cook. We can work it this way. Cold fried chicken à la Marie. Potato salad maybe from Erica. You and I bring the beer. Go up into the hills while the weather is still good. You going to see her tonight?”
“Yes, I am.”
“We can try to set up a date.”
Quent grinned. “Sorry, it takes a little time to get used to the idea of you surrounded by nature.”
“Hell, I always sit on the ground once every seven or eight years, kid. Let’s try to set it up for next Sunday. Leave about ten?”
“It sounds like it’d be fun, Mack. I’ve been thinking about... what you said last night.”
Mack adjusted his hat and clapped Quent on the shoulder. “Forget it. Hell, we’ll get along. I worry too much. I’ll set it up with Marie. Next Sunday.”
Mack was on his second drink when Marie came in. He stood up and the waiter pulled the table out and Marie slid in onto the bench beside him, smiled up at the waiter and said, “Gibson, please.” She winked at Mack as she took off her gloves. “Have a big rich day, darling?”
“A truly handsome day. Honey, what do you think of picnics?”
She stared at him. “Picnics? God! Ants in the potato salad and nothing to sit on but rocks.”
“We’re going on one.”
“What did you say you were drinking? I better change my order.”
“No, actually. The same four like last night.”
“Goodie. I’ll bring my bird book. Really, Mack!”
“It’s all set. We leave Sunday at ten in the morning. Up into the hills. Hi ho. Cold chicken and potato salad and beer and scenery.”
“You mean it, don’t you? Wasn’t one evening with young love enough for you?”
“Just being with them makes me feel young again, honey.”
Her drink came, and as she sipped it she turned so that she could look at him over the rim of her glass. She set the glass down. “You, my friend, look entirely too smug. What evil thing are you cooking up?”
“Evil? On a picnic? Please!”
“I think you better tell me what you have on your mind, Mack.”
“You are an unflattering type. I just happen to want to go on a picnic.”
“I’ll wait until the third act, then. It better be a good script.”
“It’s all ad lib.”
“Do I supply the chicken?”
“You do, my love.”
The next morning Quent reported that Erica had agreed to a picnic, and he said it was funny she wasn’t more enthusiastic about it, because he knew that she really enjoyed the out of doors, and they had taken long walks, leaving the car parked near the highway a couple of times. He said that she praised her aunt’s German potato salad, and she would come with a large bowl of same.
On Thursday Mack took some time off in the afternoon and drove up into the hills. He spent considerable time exploring side roads. When he was satisfied, he made small check marks on his map and returned to the city.
In the afternoon he went into Quent’s office. “Kid, I think we better take both cars. You know how Marie is. She gets restless and wants to take off, and maybe you and Erica would want to stay longer.”
“That makes sense, Mack. You follow me or something?”
“We don’t even have to do that,” Mack said. He unfolded the map and spread it out on the desk. “I told a friend we were going on a picnic and he told me about this place. He says it’s fine. Easy to find. We can meet there, kid. Look. Eighteen out of town and turn left on thirty-one. Go nine miles on thirty-one up into the hills, and you see a barn right here with half the roof gone. Turn left on the first road right here beyond the barn. It’s a dirt road, and you go to the end and you come out right on the side of the mountain where you can see for miles. Nice and private. He was up there a couple weeks ago.”
Quent studied the map. “That’s easy enough. Sure.”
“So we can meet out there at eleven. Marie’s going to get some nice chickens.”
Mack awoke at eight Sunday morning when the alarm went off. For a few minutes he didn’t remember it was the day of the picnic. Then he smiled and stretched and got up feeling good. He hummed under his breath as he shaved, pulling the skin tight and doing a good clean job.
He opened a tin of tomato juice, put the coffee on, and then phoned Quent. Quent answered on the second ring. “Oh, it’s you, Mack. Say, it’s a nice day for it, isn’t it?”
“A swell day, kid. Up to a point.”
“What’s the trouble?”
“I just went down to go get the paper, and my left rear tire is flat and the spare is too soft to put on. I found a place that will send a guy to fix things, but he can’t get here for an hour or so. And there were a couple of things I was going to do. How about you helping me out, kid?”
“Of course, Mack.”
“I left that zipper case down at the office, that red job that keeps things cold. I was going to start early enough so I could take it out to Walker’s and load it up with cold beer. You can buy it there any time. Can do?”
“Sure.”
“That means you’ll have to go right by Marie’s place. So it’ll help the timing if you pick her up, and I’ll pick up Erica. Okay?”
“Glad to do it, Mack. Want me to phone the gals and tell them about the switch?”
“I don’t see any need of that. They both said they’d be ready at ten. You tell Marie what happened and I’ll tell your gal. And I’ll see you out there. Don’t get lost, kid.”