“You’re very nervous. I can tell by the way you move your hands. You’re under a lot of tension.”
Verne thought about it for a while. “It’s a strange thing. About eleven o’clock in the morning I start feeling as if there were something settling down over my shoulders. Some sort of pressure. Like a heavy weight. It bends me over.”
“Do you know why?”
“It’s a weight like a glove. As if I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. Responsibility. To my job, I suppose. It wears me out.”
“You try too hard.”
“This is a competitive world!”
“Are you afraid of not succeeding?”
He scowled and relapsed into silence.
“I’m sorry,” Teddy said.
“Well, don’t worry about last night. It’s funny the way women relate everything to themselves. Everything that happens; insult or compliment.” They drove aimlessly along.
“Are we going any place in particular?” Teddy asked. “Or are we just driving?”
“Just driving.”
“That’s fine.”
“You said Don wanted you to go out with him tonight. Are you going to? Have you decided?”
“I don’t know. What do you think? I thought maybe you and I—”
“Do you want to?”
“No. But—you and I couldn’t do something, could we?”
“I have the late shift. I won’t be off until after midnight.”
“Do they make you work that long?”
“It’s split. A break in the afternoon.”
“Later in the week could—”
“We can probably work something out.”
She nodded.
“Don’t feel hurt,” Verne said.
“I’m not hurt.”
They drove for a long time without saying much of anything to each other. At last Verne took the car into Teddy’s neighborhood. Presently he brought it to a stop in front of her apartment building. An old Negro was soaping down the front steps with a brush and a wash bucket.
Teddy looked up at the building, through the window of the car. “Well, I guess we’re here.”
“I’ll give you a call later on.”
“Thanks.” She opened the door and got out.
“What do you think you’ll do tonight? About Don. Maybe it would be a good idea to go along with it for a while more. You don’t want to hit him over the head all at once.”
“I suppose not. Well, I’ll think it over. Thanks for driving me.”
“I’ll see you.” Verne slammed the door shut and drove off. Through his rear view mirror he could see her walking slowly up the stairs of her building, past the Negro. Then a truck turned in behind him, and he saw nothing but the heavy, expressionless face of the driver, gazing impassively ahead.
Very late that night after he had come home from work there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?”
A muffled male voice sounded outside, but he could not make out any words. He opened the door. It was Don.
“Isn’t this sort of late for you to be out?”
Don came into the room. He dropped into a low chair, sighing. “Thought I’d stop and say hello.”
“So I see.” Verne sat down across from him. “Nothing special on your mind.”
“No.”
“What did you do this evening?”
“Went to hear the Woolly Wildcats.”
“You and your girl?”
Don nodded.
“She likes it, eh?”
“Teddy’s a good girl. She responds.”
“That’s nice.”
“What have you been doing recently? You haven’t been at home. I’m sorry you blew up at me the other day. I was just wondering.”
“That’s all right. I haven’t been doing anything special.”
The telephone rang. Verne did not move.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Don rumbled.
Verne got to his feet and went over slowly. He picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Verne, this is Teddy. Can I talk to you? Don brought me home a little while ago. You’re not in bed yet, are you? Could we—”
“I’ll call you back. I’ll call you in a few minutes. I have company.”
There was silence. Then the phone clicked.
Verne hung up and walked back to his chair.
“Who was it?” Don demanded. “Anyone I know?”
“No.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure are in a tizzy these days.”
“That’s too bad.”
Don fidgeted with the books he was carrying. Neither of them spoke. Finally Don got to his feet and moved toward the door. “Well, I guess there’s no use hanging around here. I’ll come back when you feel better.”
“I feel all right. I’ll let you out.”
He opened the door. Don plodded out into the hall and he closed the door after him. As soon as he heard him leave the building he phoned Teddy.
“I’m sorry. Don was here. I couldn’t talk with him sitting right in front of me.”
“Oh. I didn’t understand. I thought—”
“You were wrong.” He felt irritable.
“Verne, don’t be angry. I didn’t know. I’m sorry I didn’t understand. I’m sorry I hung up that way.”
“Well, forget it. What did you want?”
“Oh, Verne—” She moved away from the phone. Presently she went on in a low, thin voice: “I just wanted to see if you were still up. Could we talk? Could you come over? I could take a taxi to your place, if you’re too tired.”
It took him a while to answer. “Well . . . . It’s hard to know what to say.
I’m tired, of course. I feel like I’ve been hanging on the cross. But I want to see you. That goes without saying.”
There was silence. “Perhaps it would be better if we got together tomorrow night instead.”
“We’d have more time. It’s pretty late.”
“Yes. It’s pretty late.”
He could hear her twisting and turning, trying to know what to do. At last her voice came again, uncertain and hesitant.
“Well, we’ll make it tomorrow night. If it’s all right. You do want to come over, don’t you? You haven’t begun to—change your mind, have you?”
“No. I’ll be over. About seven.”
She said goodbye and hung up. Verne went to bed. He fell asleep right away.
The next day he telephoned her from the station, before he left to go home. It was about five o’clock in the afternoon. She sounded brighter.
“Did you sleep all right last night?” he said.
“Yes. i feel much better today.” Her voice was calm. Firm.
“What time shall I come over? Seven?”
“Verne, I’ll come over to your place. If it’s all right.”
“My place? If you want. But it’s a mess.”
“I don’t care.”
“What time shall I pick you up?”
“I’ll come by taxi. You go on home and I’ll be over later on. I have some things to do and I don’t know how long it will take. Okay?”
“Sure.” He hung up.
She did not come until almost nine. Restlessly, he paced around his room, deep in thought. There was no question any longer. Don could have her back. He was wasting his time; the thing had gone far enough.
While he was thinking the bell rang. He crossed quickly to the door and opened it.
“Hello,” Teddy said merrily. She stood in the doorway, dressed in a dark suit, a coat over one arm. And in the other hand holding a suitcase. He gaped at the suitcase. “Can I come in?”