"You don't need your pen."
"I do, though, Mom. It won't take a minute. Just let me-"
He was past her before she could protest again. Kathy had not stirred. Mark tiptoed to the door between the rooms.
"I'll just slip in," he whispered. "I won't wake him up."
"I'm awake," said a grim voice from the darkness. "If I had been asleep, I'd be awake now."
"Gee, Mr. Friedrichs, I'm sorry. I just-"
"Shut up and get on with it."
"Yes, sir."
Pat heard objects rustle and rattle and jingle as Mark fumbled. There was no further comment from Josef, not even a creak of bedsprings. Mark finally reappeared.
"Thanks," he said "I just wanted-"
"Get out of here," Pat said.
Mark gave her a wide smile full of teeth and ingratia-tion. Before he slipped out the door he glanced at the bed where Kathy was sleeping, and his mother's rude comment died on her lips. He cared so much it hurt her to see him.
IV
She felt less kindly toward Mark when the incident was repeated at what seemed to her an incredibly early hour the following morning.
"Go away," she shouted-and then, remembering
Kathy, she rolled over, clapping her hand to her mouth.
Kathy was sitting up in bed. With her hair tumbling over her bare shoulders and the thin fabric of her batiste nightgown showing all the fresh young curves beneath, she looked good enough to eat. Her eyes were shining as she slid out of bed and headed for the door, where Mark's insistent tapping could still be heard.
Pat fell back against the pillow, wondering whether she was tough enough to become the mother of a nubile young maiden.
"Put a robe on," she croaked.
Kathy came to a stop and turned red from the top of her nightgown to the roots of her hair. Remembering a number of things she ought to have recalled earlier, Pat added quickly, "Mark is always in a weakened state before breakfast; you don't want him to pass out in the hall, do you?"
Kathy's flush subsided. "You're funny," she said, giggling.
"That's me," Pat agreed. "Keep 'em laughing." Mark's attack on the door increased in volume. Pat yelled, "Wait a minute."
"I'll let him in," Josef said. He stood in the doorway between the two rooms, buttoning his shirt; and as Pat rolled a weary, wary eye in his direction he grinned dis-armingly. "Hi," he said.
"Uh," Pat said. Her nightgown was heavy cotton and she knew there were bags under her eyes; there always were when she had not had enough sleep. Josef glanced at his daughter.
"Get your jeans on, honey," he said casually. "The lady is correct, as always; if a passing bellboy gets a look at you, we'll have to beat him off with a club."
Kathy snatched up a handful of garments and vanished into the bathroom. Ignoring the increasing fusillade of knocks, Josef sat down on the bed. Pat was still groggy; his kiss caught her unawares, and for a few moments after that she didn't even hear the knocking.
"You look gorgeous in the morning," he said, his hands on her shoulders.
"You're either blind or a liar or-"
"In love," said Josef against her ear.
"Don't do that. What if one of the kids-"
"They'll have to get used to it eventually," Josef said. His warm breath moved across her cheek and mingled with hers. Pat wondered briefly how he had acquired such skills in a loveless marriage with a frigid wife. She decided she didn't care.
Finally she freed her mouth, fighting her own instincts as well as his, and pushed him away.
"How can you be so frivolous at a time like this?"
"I must have undeveloped talents for frivolity," Josef said, smiling. "I feel drunk. No, I feel better than that. Getting drunk is no fun."
"You'd better let Mark in before he kicks the door down."
"Mark." Josef's smile vanished. "That's right, I have something to say to that young man."
There was a decided swagger in his walk as he crossed the room. Pat pushed a pillow under her back and watched him with lazy amusement. No doubt she ought to inquire why he was annoyed with Mark, but at that moment she was inclined to let them fight it out. Like Josef, she felt slightly drunk. No; it was much better than being drunk…
Josef opened the door. Ruffled and red-faced, Mark stalked in, and Pat's suppressed amusement surfaced in a weird gurgle as her son's suspicious gaze moved from Josef's face to hers.
"What took you so long? What were you doing?"
"I sent Kathy in to dress before I opened the door," Josef said blandly. "Just because we are in an abnormal situation doesn't mean we can lose sight of all the proprieties." Unappeased, Mark continued to glower at him, and Josef went on, "Speaking of proprieties, I'd appreciate it if you would return my car keys. One can hardly speak of theft among friends, but it wasn't kosher, was it, to borrow the car without asking me?"
Pat sat up in bed.
"Mark! Did you really?"
"Mom, you aren't dressed," Mark said.
"Stop trying to change the subject. Did you take-"
"I just wanted to check on poor old Jud," Mark said in injured tones. "I figured you would all get mad if I suggested it, so…"
He handed Josef the keys. The latter inspected them.
"How are the fenders?" he inquired.
"Not a scratch," Mark replied indignantly.
"Hmmm. All right, sport. Let's get some breakfast. The ladies will join us in-"
"Fifteen minutes," Pat said.
She didn't want to lecture Mark in front of Josef. He felt enough hostility already. But she promised herself that she would have a few words to say to him when they were alone.
She knew she was hooked when she found herself hurrying to dress, in order to see Josef a little sooner. Like a high-school girl, she thought, banging her head with her brush in her haste. But it's nice. It feels good. And when she and Kathy entered the dining room, she was surprised to see that the sky outside was dark with rain. She felt like sunshine.
Josef's behavior was sophomorically infatuated. He tried to hold her hand under the table, and the way he looked at her would have been a dead giveaway if anyone had been watching.
But Mark wasn't watching. When he had finished his breakfast he sat staring vacantly at his plate. Pat offered him her toast, and he refused. Then she really got worried.
"What did you say to him?" she hissed at Josef.
He shook his head. "Not much. I'm saving it."
"He's up to something," Pat said aloud. "Mark." She nudged his elbow, which was inelegantly propped on the table. "Mark, wake up."
"Huh?" Mark started. His mother, studying him with undivided attention for the first time that morning, saw the telltale signs. "Did you get any sleep last night?" she demanded. "What were you doing?"
"Working," Mark said. "Thinking."
"That's work," Josef agreed. He exchanged glances with Pat, and some of her suspicions must have slipped into his mind. "What else did you do last night, Mark? Did you really go back to the house?"
"We better leave," Mark said hastily. "Poor old Jud must be about ready to burst. I mean-"
"So you didn't go to the house," Pat exclaimed. "Where-"
But Mark was halfway to the door, and by the time Josef had paid the check, he had vanished into his own room and closed the door.
"We may as well check out," Josef said resignedly. "When we get him home I'll string him up by his thumbs and ask him again. I don't want to make a scene here in public."
True to his promise, he said nothing during the drive. Mark was in a peculiar state, mumbling under his breath, squirming and twitching, and once, to his mother's consternation, bursting into a hoarse, sardonic laugh. Seeing Pat's alarm, Kathy patted her hand.
"It's all right, Mrs. Robbins. He's got an idea, that's all."
"If it affects him that way, he'd better give up intellectual activities," said her father, from the front seat.
"Do you know what the idea is?" Pat asked.
"Well…" Kathy looked as sly as it was possible for her to look. "I promised I wouldn't talk about it till he has it all worked out. If it does-we might have this whole thing settled by tonight. Wouldn't that be great?"