“Joanne,” he said, “how well would you say you know Jenny?”
“Jenny our sister, you mean?”
“Yes.”
She frowned. “Oh, I don’t know. How old was she when I left — only eleven. Just barely getting a good start in life.”
“You don’t figure you know her very well?”
“No, not very well.”
“Well, how about — What does she say in her letters to you?”
“Oh, you know.” She grinned suddenly. “Just facts and figures — gotten much worse since you turned the money over to her.”
“Does she say how she spends the money?”
“Sure.”
“No, I mean does she tell you what bills she mails and what bills she takes in person? I mean …”
His coffee was set before him. He looked above the steam of it to Joanne’s puzzled face.
“I’m not following,” she said. “What do—”
“Well, does she say how the money is partitioned up, for instance? A certain amount to groceries, a certain amount for savings, and so on. Has she ever told you that?”
“Not even Jenny gets that specific,” said Joanne. “What’s the matter, Ben Joe?”
“Nothing. No, I just …”
He picked up his coffee and began drinking it, not meeting Joanne’s eyes. She was giving him that amused little knowing smile again; he’d never found out how much she knew. Either she didn’t know a thing or she was determined not to tell what she did know, and he’d never be able to find out which it was.
“I don’t understand a soul in this world,” he said.
“What makes you think you should? Especially girls. Think what a — Oh, hey, speaking of girls. Is that Shelley Domer?”
Ben Joe turned. Shelley was just coming in the door, dressed all in blue and carrying a coat over her arm. Behind her came a man Ben Joe didn’t know.
“Who’s he?” Joanne asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Sure looks familiar.”
“Well, it might be Jack Horner. Shelley said the other night—”
“John Horner,” Joanne said. “I remember all about him. Used to live just outside Sandhill, went to Murphy High School.”
She put her chin in her hand and examined John Horner. So did Ben Joe, although he tried to look as if he were watching something else. He was surprised to see that Horner was a nice enough looking man, with a broad face and a mop of brown hair. For some reason, Ben Joe had pictured him as thin and sinister; he couldn’t say why. Shelley was smiling up at him with that small, formal smile she always put on when she felt awkward, and when she saw Ben Joe she looked pleased and her smile broadened. Immediately she came over to their table, letting Horner follow if he wanted to.
“Hey, Ben Joe,” she said. “Hey, Joanne. It’s good to see you again.”
“It’s good to see you. Why don’t you sit down?”
“Well, all right.”
Shelley looked back and forth, first at the seat beside Joanne and then at the seat beside Ben Joe, and finally she chose the one beside Ben Joe and slid shyly into it. Opposite her, John Horner sat down by Joanne and began talking to her immediately, not waiting for an introduction to Ben Joe.
“You look kind of glum,” Shelley said to Ben Joe.
“I do?”
“What you been doing that makes you look so glum?”
“Well, I don’t know. What’ve you been doing?”
“Looking for a job. I didn’t find one, though.”
“Whered you look?”
“Sesame Printery.” She smiled, unexplainably, at her fingernails. “I worked there one summer proofreading, remember? And they’re so low on work that Mr. Crown — that’s the boss — he’s just thinking up things to keep the typesetters busy. This morning they turned out five hundred labels reading ‘Strawberry Jam,’ one hundred labels reading ‘Pickled Pigs’ Feet,’ though Mrs. Crown hates them and won’t pickle any no matter what inducement Mr. Crown offers, and seven school-book covers saying ‘All cats look gray in the dark,’ because that’s little Sonny Crown’s favorite quotation. This afternoon they’ll print the Crowns’ stationery. So I don’t reckon they need any help.”
Across the table, Horner was laughing at something Joanne had said. Shelley looked over at them and said, “I’d introduce you to John if he wasn’t talking just now. But anyway, that’s the John Horner I was telling you about. You like him?”
“Well, what I see of him I do,” Ben Joe said.
“He and I are going roller-skating this afternoon. I just know I’ll break my neck.”
“Has he asked you yet?”
“Asked me what?”
“About marrying him.”
“No, not yet.”
“What you going to say?”
“Oh …”
“Come on, now,” he said. He was teasing her, but she turned suddenly serious and began pleating the paper napkin beside his saucer. “Haven’t decided yet?” he asked her more gently.
She shook her head.
“You couldn’t drag me in this place again,” Joanne was saying to John. “It’s all taken over by hoods, looks like. Used to be a real happy place, everybody dancing together—”
“Remember Barney Pocket?” John asked. “Remember how he used to make up dances all by himself? Lord, he was a funny guy. Put himself through college, later, calculating how soon people would die and then borrowing money from them. It worked, too.”
“He walked to Newfoundland one summer,” Joanne said. “On a dare.”
Ben Joe cleared his throat. “Joanne,” he said, “I think Gram expects us home for lunch.”
“Okay, Ben Joe.”
Shelley and John stood up to let them out. While Ben Joe was struggling into his jacket, Shelley edged closer and said, “You coming tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Ben Joe said. “I’ll be by at—”
“Hush!” She frowned toward where John was standing talking with Joanne and then turned back to Ben Joe. “Will you hush?”
The urge to tease came over him again. He grinned down at her and said, “Don’t tell me he doesn’t know I’m coming! Why, Shelley Domer, that amounts to outright two-timing. I swear if you’re not—”
“I mean it, now!” Her face was white and miserable; Ben Joe immediately felt sorry. “He is a steady boyfriend, after all,” she said. “I don’t want to—”
“Okay, okay.”
He reached around to help her with her coat, and then raised one hand in Horner’s direction.
“See you,” he said.
“So long.”
When they were outside, Joanne stopped to button up her coat. “It’s getting kind of chilly,” she said. “Shelley hasn’t changed much, has she?”
“I don’t know.”
“I mean, she’s still sort of quiet and drifty. You always did alternate between two extremes, come to think of it — first a dreamy girl and then a shrieky, dancing one.”
“Well.”
“That all you got to say?”
He watched the traffic light patiently, not hearing her. “What you got on your mind, Ben Joe?”
“I don’t know. Joanne?”
“What?”
“Would you say about ten dollars a day is enough to pay for a stay in a hospital?”
“That depends on the circumstances.”
“Well, I don’t know the circumstances, really. It’s just this friend of mine. I’m worried about how much money he’d need.”