We had been pretty close buddies in high school, even though Tom did a few things of which I couldn’t approve. He was always such an angle shooter.
Take the day the senior boys held a meeting in the school auditorium to vote on what to wear at graduation and where to buy it, for instance. The vote was for dark suits, all of the same cut and style, and it was decided to order them all from Boyd’s Clothing Store, downtown.
Tom slipped out of the auditorium as soon as the vote passed. Later I learned he had rushed down to Boyd’s and made a deal to receive a free suit if he could swing the Claremont High graduating class there.
He was always doing things such as that, never anything which might land him in jail, but just a shade unethical. Whenever I fussed at him about it, he would just laugh and tell me he wasn’t crooked; he was just opportunistic.
The night I was initiated into the Elks, as soon as the meeting adjourned, the members present all crowded over to where we new inductees were standing in a self-conscious row to shake our hands and congratulate us. Suddenly I felt a whack between the shoulder blades, turned around and found Tom Slider grinning at me.
“Tom!” I said, gripping his hand. “Are you an Elk?”
“I’m even a past exalted ruler,” he said. “Congratulations, Brother Morgan. I’ll pop for a drink.”
We went downstairs to the bar and had several. I didn’t get to talk to Tom much, because brothers who had missed me upstairs kept coming over to introduce themselves and congratulate me. I did learn that he was still a bachelor, though, and was currently between jobs. He said he had shucked his travelling job because of a disagreement with his district sales manager. He had a couple of possible jobs lined up, he told me, but he wasn’t in any hurry to get situated because he had a few bills stacked away to tide him over. He said he planned to wait until exactly what he wanted came along.
Knowing Tom’s tendency to shoot angles, I wondered if his “disagreement” with his district sales manager had been over something such as padded expense accounts or failure to turn in all his collections.
When the bar closed at one a.m., we drifted outdoors together and stood talking for a few minutes in front of the club.
Tom said, “Now that you’re a brother Elk, Sid, we’ll have to get together more often. You’re tied down with a wife, though, aren’t you?”
“I’m married, but I wouldn’t call it tied down. I’m allowed out with the boys.”
“Oh, sure,” he said with a disbelieving grin. “All you married guys claim that. I forget who you married, but I remember it was somebody I knew. It must be two years since we ran into each other, and you hadn’t been married long then.”
“Evelyn Cross,” I said.
“Oh, yeah, that cute little redhead who was a couple of years behind us in school. We used to call her Red Cross. Is she still as much of a doll?”
“Even prettier,” I told him. “How come you never married, Tom?”
He flashed his white teeth in a smile. “I like variety.”
“I got that out of my system long ago. It’s pretty nice to have someone waiting when you come home.”
“Fiddle flap,” he said. “I’ll take bachelor freedom. You coming to next week’s meeting?”
“I planned to. There’s a stag party afterward, isn’t there?”
He snapped his fingers. “I’d forgotten that. You won’t want to miss it. You play poker or shoot craps?”
“If it’s not too steep.”
“We may as well come together,” he said. “I’ll stop by to pick you up. Where are you living?”
I took out one of my insurance agency cards and handed it to him. “My home and business addresses are the same,” I said. “I use an extra bedroom as my office.”
Glancing at the card, he stuck it into his pocket and pulled out one of his own. By the light of a street lamp he wrote an address and phone number on the back.
“Pay no attention to the business address and phone on the front,” he said as he handed me the card. “I’m not there any more. If your wife balks at letting you go to a stag, give me a ring during the week. Otherwise, I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty next Wednesday.”
“I’m not henpecked,” I said a bit testily. “Just be there.”
When I got home, Evelyn was in bed but still awake. As I eased open the bedroom door, she said, “You can turn on the light honey.” I switched on the light and began to undress, thinking of Tom. “How’d it go?” she asked.
“Fine. Guess who’s a brother Elk?” “Who?”
“Tom Slider.”
Her eyebrows raised. “The Tom Slider who used to be a full-back at Claremont High?”
“Uh-huh.”
She sat up in bed. “Is he still as handsome as he used to be?”
I paused in the act of hanging up my suit to glance at her over my shoulder. “I guess, but that’s a kind of funny question to ask. You trying to make me jealous?”
Evelyn giggled. “You should be, because I used to have a mad crush on him. Is he married?”
“No,” I said shortly. “Nor employed either. You would have to live on love if you’re contemplating a switch in husbands.”
“Don’t be an old bear,” she said. “I was only fifteen when I had my crush, and as a noble senior he was above even looking at fifteen-year-old sophomores. You weren’t looking my way either back then.”
“I’ve grown more possessive in my old age,” I told her. “You knew me too back then, but I don’t recall you ever mentioning having a crush on me.”
“I’ve got a crush on you now, haven’t I? Isn’t that better?”
Looking at it that way, I decided it was. I wasn’t really jealous anyway, because I’m not the jealous type. I do incline to be possessive, but that’s not the same thing. I don’t go around frowning suspiciously every time Evelyn smiles at another man, but if I ever thought there was a chance of losing her, I would fight like a tiger. I think she understands exactly how I feel, and I think it pleases her. Jealous husbands make women feel hemmed in, but they like to know they’re wanted.
I put on my pyjamas, switched out the light, and climbed into bed.
The following Wednesday Tom Slider showed up at seven-fifteen instead of seven-thirty. I was in the bathroom knotting my tie, so Evelyn answered the door. When I entered the front room, he was seated on the sofa with a can of beer in his hand and Evelyn was seated next to him.
“Hi, Sid,” he said. “Your wife said you weren’t ready yet and forced a beer on me.”
“There’s no hurry,” I said. “The meeting doesn’t start until eight.”
“You want a beer, honey?” Evelyn asked.
I shook my head. “There’ll be enough to drink at the stag party. I’ll wait.”
I took a chair across from the sofa. Evelyn smiled at Tom.
“You haven’t changed much,” she said. “You’re still as lean and hard as you were in high school.”
“You’re still as slim and soft,” he said gallantly. “If I’d known you were looking for a husband, I’d have beat Sid to the punch.”
When Evelyn blushed like a schoolgirl, I demonstrated my lack of jealousy by saying with a smile, “You would probably have won out. She had a mad crush on you when she was fifteen.”
Tom cocked an eyebrow in her direction and Evelyn’s blush deepened. “That was supposed to be a joke, blabbermouth,” she said to me. “You just wait and see if I ever tell you another secret.”
“Well, well,” Tom said with a mock leer. “I wish I’d known before Sid got to you.”
“Cut it out,” Evelyn said. “You’re not even the marrying type, or you would have been hooked long ago. Sid tells me you’re still single. You still live at home?”