Nettie surprised me, too. I knew she wouldn’t approve of my going out with Roger, but she was a lot more determined than I’d anticipated. “Don’t be foolish, Marta,” she snapped, then hesitating only a second, added, “I forbid you to go out with Roger Van Buren!”
I thought I must be hearing things. “You forbid me, Nettie.” It struck me funny and I laughed. “I haven’t been forbidden to do anything since I was five years old.”
Nettie looked at me, then smiled a sort of bitter-sweet smile. “I’m an old fool. I wish — that is, I have no right to interfere. Forgive me, my dear.”
The next morning I overslept and was ten minutes late getting to work. Roger was in the outer office waiting for me, looking a little upset.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Go ahead and bawl me out, I deserve it,” I told him. I didn’t want him to think that because he’d asked me out, I had any special privileges. I had some pride.
“I’m not angry.” He smiled, then said softly, “Your face is very expressive, Marta. Every thought shows through. When you’re worried, happy, angry, excited. It’s—” His voice trailed off. But at that exact moment I knew Roger Van Buren was in love with me. Hooked, but good. For a fullish minute I wallowed in self-satisfaction, like a pig in the mud. Then, for no reason at all, my conscience began giving me a hard time.
“I... I’m sorry I’m late. Nettie usually calls me, but she didn’t this morning and... and—” I actually stammered, but Roger seemed not to be listening. “Nettie?” he repeated vaguely.
“Yes, Nettie Barnard, my landlady. She’s very nice. She kind of watches out for me.” I was babbling, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want this old fellow to look at me that way.
“Have you ever thought of living anywhere else? There’s a small apartment not far from my place that I think you might like. I’d like your living in my neighborhood.” There was no mistaking the emotion in his voice, or the intention either.
“I... I couldn’t leave Nettie. She... she’s been like a mother to me,” I managed, nearly gagging. If Mom could have heard me, she would have howled.
Roger’s black brows drew together. “Yes, of course,” he said, then he turned and walked slowly back to his office.
I started breathing again, and just then Christine came in. I had no idea how much she’d heard. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips tight, but when she spoke she was calm enough. “I had breakfast downtown and ran into Betty Lou’s brother,” she said. “He said Betty won’t be in this morning. She doesn’t feel well.”
Right after she left, I called to see if there was anything I could do for Betty Lou. Her brother said no, but he sounded worried. Just why I decided to skip lunch and go see the poor kid I don’t know. Maybe because she’d been in the back of my mind as somebody who needed a friend from the first day I met her. She lay in bed in her little bare room above the tavern all by herself. Big eyes, red cheeks, hair all matted. I wanted more than anything to wrap her up and take her home with me. She looked so pathetic, I told her I’d stop by in the afternoon after work to see her.
“That’s nice. It’s lonesome up here all by myself,” she said, trying to smile.
I gave her a little squeeze and went home. Nettie, sitting in her rocker by the window, looked startled when I walked in. “What are you doing home at noon? Is anything the matter?”
I told her about Betty Lou stuck up there in that hole all by herself. Nettie hesitated only a second. “We have an extra bedroom here, why don’t we bundle her up and bring her over?”
“Why Nettie, how sweet you are,” I said and I meant it. And she was. I couldn’t get over it. But after work when I went back to see Betty Lou and told her about Nettie’s offer, she refused to come. I was sure it was because she thought it would be an imposition and I wouldn’t take no for an answer, just bundled her up, called Oscar and away we went. I was certain she’d be grateful once Nettie and I settled her down. She wasn’t.
“Why did you make me come here?” she whispered after Nettie went downstairs.
“So you’d have somebody to take care of you. Why else?”
“Well, I don’t like it here with that crazy old Nettie. She’ll probably try to kill me just the way she did Miss Drury,” Betty Lou said, so loud I was afraid Nettie would hear her.
I was mad. “Betty Lou! What’s the matter with you anyway. You’re being ridiculous and you know it!”
“I’m afraid of her,” Betty Lou said and started to cry.
That was Thursday night. All the next day Betty Lou was on my mind, but Fridays were busy at school and besides that, Roger was breathing over me. Around noon he came up and stood behind me. I kept on typing, pretending I didn’t know he was there.
“Marta,” he said quietly, too quietly. I knew the expression that was going to be on his face even before I turned around. And sure enough. His whole face had gone soft. It made me feel weak inside, helpless, cornered, “Marta,” he said again. “What time shall I pick you up tonight? We are going out, aren’t we?” He sounded more like sixteen than forty-six. It was pathetic. There was no sense in my prolonging this silly game. “I can’t go out tonight, Mr. Van Buren,” I said. “You see, Betty Lou is staying at our house. She’s sick and I hate to leave her. Nettie’s too old to be running up and down stairs, so... so I don’t think I’ll be able to go. Maybe some other time,” I said, letting him down easy, but hoping he’d get the message.
Roger scowled. “What’s the matter with Betty Lou? What’s she doing at Nettie’s?”
“Just the flu, but she’s quite sick and needs attention that’s why Nettie and I are taking care of her.”
“Just the flu, are you sure?”
“I guess so. We haven’t had the doctor yet, unless Nettie called Doctor Carberry today.”
Roger came nearer, hovering over me like a wet nurse. “How long has she been sick?”
“A day or two, I’m not sure.”
“Don’t you go near her!” Roger cried suddenly, gripping my shoulder. I stared at him. “Flu is very infectious,” he said fiercely. “Perhaps you’d better go visit your relatives for the weekend. I don’t want you to get sick.”
I actually blushed. Luckily, it was close to noon and I could leave. I gathered up my things and started down the hall, passing Christine’s room on the way. Her door was open. And a really brilliant thought hit me. If I could get her and Roger together, I’d be doing everybody an immense favor. I’ll admit I was mostly thinking of myself, but I felt sorry for Roger, and Christine, too, for that matter. My heart wasn’t made of iron.
“Christine,” I called. She raised her head, wary as a rattler. There was no use mincing words. “I’m throwing in the towel. Roger is yours.”
She stared at me as if I’d lost my mind, then she laughed, a harsh sound. “Not any more. Ten years ago, he was. He loved me. He truly did. I know it.” She examined the green blotter on her desk as if it offered a glimpse into the past. “Just when I thought he might propose, he said he didn’t want to see me any more. I... I made a fool of myself, I guess. At least that’s what Nettie said.”
“Nettie?”
“I was living with her then, in your room as a matter of fact.” Christine looked vague, as if the present was unfamiliar to her. “Nettie was right. I was a fool. I still am.”
“Do you suppose there was a perfectly good reason why Roger couldn’t marry you? Maybe he had a mad wife hidden in the attic. Or a couple of dead bodies buried in the basement,” I said, trying to lighten the conversation, but Christine didn’t respond at all. “That was a long time ago, Christine. Ten years! My Lord,” I went on, really quite shaken.