‘Say Jake is there really any borax in that lake?’
‘Sure there is. Aint we got the affidavit of four experts?’
‘Sure. I was just kinder wonderin… Say Jake if this ever gets wound up will you promise me not to go in for any more wildcat schemes?’
‘Sure; I wont need to… My you’re a redhot mommer in that dress.’
‘Do you like it?’
‘You look like Brazil… I dunno… kinder tropical.’
‘That’s the secret of my dangerous charm.’
The phone rang jingling sharp. They jumped to their feet. She pressed the side of her hand against her lips.
‘Two in the fourth row. That’s fine… We’ll be right down an get em… Jez Rosie you cant go on being jumpy like; you’re gettin me all shot too. Pull yerself together why cant you?’
‘Let’s go out an eat Jake. I havent had anything but buttermilk all day. I guess I’ll stop tryin to reduce. This worryin’ll make me thin enough.’
‘You got to quit it Rosie… It’s gettin my nerve.’
They stopped at the flowerstall in the lobby. ‘I want a gardenia’ he said. He puffed his chest out and smiled his curlylipped smile as the girl fixed it in the buttonhole of his dinnercoat. ‘What’ll you have dear?’ he turned grandiloquently to Rosie. She puckered her mouth. ‘I dont just know what’ll go with my dress.’
‘While you’re deciding I’ll go get the theater tickets.’ With his overcoat open and turned back to show the white puffedout shirtfront and his cuffs shot out over his thick hands he strutted over to the newsstand. Out of the corner of her eye while the ends of the red roses were being wrapped in silver paper Rosie could see him leaning across the magazines talking babytalk to the blond girl. He came back brighteyed with a roll of bills in his hand. She pinned the roses on her fur coat, put her arm in his and together they went through the revolving doors into the cold glistening electric night. ‘Taxi,’ he yapped.
The diningroom smelled of toast and coffee and the New York Times. The Merivales were breakfasting to electric light. Sleet beat against the windows. ‘Well Paramount’s fallen off five points more,’ said James from behind the paper.
‘Oh James I think its horrid to be such a tease,’ whined Maisie who was drinking her coffee in little henlike sips.
‘And anyway,’ said Mrs Merivale, ‘Jack’s not with Paramount any more. He’s doing publicity for the Famous Players.’
‘He’s coming east in two weeks. He says he hopes to be here for the first of the year.’
‘Did you get another wire Maisie?’
Maisie nodded. ‘Do you know James, Jack never will write a letter. He always telegraphs,’ said Mrs Merivale through the paper at her son. ‘He certainly keeps the house choked up with flowers,’ growled James from behind the paper.
‘All by telegraph,’ said Mrs Merivale triumphantly.
James put down his paper. ‘Well I hope he’s as good a fellow as he seems to be.’
‘Oh James you’re horrid about Jack… I think it’s mean.’ She got to her feet and went through the curtains into the parlor.
‘Well if he’s going to be my brother-in-law, I think I ought to have a say in picking him,’ he grumbled.
Mrs Merivale went after her. ‘Come back and finish your breakfast Maisie, he’s just a terrible tease.’
‘I wont have him talk that way about Jack.’
‘But Maisie I think Jack’s a dear boy.’ She put her arm round her daughter and led her back to the table. ‘He’s so simple and I know he has good impulses… I’m sure he’s going to make you very happy.’ Maisie sat down again pouting under the pink bow of her boudoir cap. ‘Mother may I have another cup of coffee?’
‘Deary you know you oughtnt to drink two cups. Dr Fernald said that was what was making you so nervous.’
‘Just a little bit mother very weak. I want to finish this muffin and I simply cant eat it without something to wash it down, and you know you dont want me to lose any more weight.’ James pushed back his chair and went out with the Times under his arm. ‘It’s half past eight James,’ said Mrs Merivale. ‘He’s likely to take an hour when he gets in there with that paper.’
‘Well,’ said Maisie peevishly. ‘I think I’ll go back to bed. I think it’s silly the way we all get up to breakfast. There’s something so vulgar about it mother. Nobody does it any more. At the Perkinses’ it comes up to you in bed on a tray.’
‘But James has to be at the bank at nine.’
‘That’s no reason why we should drag ourselves out of bed. That’s how people get their faces all full of wrinkles.’
‘But we wouldn’t see James until dinnertime, and I like to get up early. The morning’s the loveliest part of the day.’ Maisie yawned desperately.
James appeared in the doorway to the hall running a brush round his hat.
‘What did you do with the paper James?’
‘Oh I left it in there.’
‘I’ll get it, never mind… My dear you’ve got your stickpin in crooked. I’ll fix it… There.’ Mrs Merivale put her hands on his shoulders and looked in her son’s face. He wore a dark gray suit with a faint green stripe in it, an olive green knitted necktie with a small gold nugget stickpin, olive green woolen socks with black clockmarks and dark red Oxford shoes, their laces neatly tied with doubleknots that never came undone. ‘James arent you carrying your cane?’ He had an olive green woolen muffler round his neck and was slipping into his dark brown winter overcoat. ‘I notice the younger men down there dont carry them, mother… People might think it was a little… I dont know…’
‘But Mr Perkins carries a cane with a gold parrothead.’
‘Yes but he’s one of the vicepresidents, he can do what he likes… But I’ve got to run.’ James Merivale hastily kissed his mother and sister. He put on his gloves going down in the elevator. Ducking his head into the sleety wind he walked quickly east along Seventysecond. At the subway entrance he bought a Tribune and hustled down the steps to the jammed soursmelling platform.
Chicago! Chicago! came in bursts out of the shut phonograph. Tony Hunter, slim in a black closecut suit, was dancing with a girl who kept putting her mass of curly ashblond hair on his shoulder. They were alone in the hotel sitting room.
‘Sweetness you’re a lovely dancer,’ she cooed snuggling closer.
‘Think so Nevada?’
‘Um-hum… Sweetness have you noticed something about me?’
‘What’s that Nevada?’
‘Havent you noticed something about my eyes?’
‘They’re the loveliest little eyes in the world.’
‘Yes but there’s something about them.’
‘You mean that one of them’s green and the other one brown.’
‘Oh it noticed the tweet lil ting.’ She tilted her mouth up at him. He kissed it. The record came to an end. They both ran over to stop it. ‘That wasnt much of a kiss, Tony,’ said Nevada Jones tossing her curls out of her eyes. They put on Shuffle Along.
‘Say Tony,’ she said when they had started dancing again. ‘What did the psychoanalyst say when you went to see him yesterday?’
‘Oh nothing much, we just talked,’ said Tony with a sigh. ‘He said it was all imaginary. He suggested I get to know some girls better. He’s all right. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about though. He cant do anything.’
‘I bet you I could.’