“Yes, I have. I admit that I have. Having too much is something I do too often, and I admit that also.”
“You didn’t used to drink at all, except a little beer.”
“True. It’s something I’ve learned since then.”
“Why do you do it?”
“Well, it comes in handy.”
“For what?”
“Oh, for all sorts of things. For forgetting things, and for making things seem different than they are, and for acquiring courage to do things I wouldn’t otherwise do.”
“Is that why you drank tonight? The last reason?”
“To get the courage to come here? Yes. Of course. There is certainly no point in denying it. I drank quite a lot in quite a short time, and here I am.”
“It was completely unnecessary. Now that you’re here, I’m very glad to see you.”
She said it, she thought, only to reassure him, but after the words were spoken she realized that they were true. She realized also that they should not, for her own good, have been true at all. In her life, he could be at best no more than a mistake, and this kind of mistake at this time was something she could not afford.
“Why are you glad?” he said.
“I don’t know. Perhaps I am also remembering how it was that summer.”
He turned to face her more directly. Without thinking, she reached out and took one of his hands. “Is that true?” he said.
“I think so. I’m not completely sure. I may know definitely after a while.”
“It was good, that summer. It was the best time of my life. Do you know that I was a little afraid of you?”
“Why ever should you have been?”
“Because you were so sure of yourself and I was not. You knew just what you wanted to do, and I hadn’t the least idea. Still haven’t, for that matter. Are you designing, as you planned?”
“Yes. I’m working in a shop here.”
“Are you successful?”
“Somewhat. I’m becoming so, I think.”
“You see? You are certain to succeed in anything you choose, and I am just as certain to fail.”
“There’s no good reason why you should fail. Why do you feel this way?”
“I’ve tried to understand it, and I believe it is because I do not choose at all. I’m always chosen. Do you see the difference between us? You choose, I am chosen.”
“I don’t think I see any sense whatever in that.”
“Maybe there isn’t any.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Teaching.”
“Here in the city?”
“Yes. At Pine Hill.”
“Teaching at such an exclusive school is quite an accomplishment, it seems to me.”
“Not at all. It’s a horrible place, crawling with detestable little monsters. Every day I think I cannot possibly endure another one.”
“Oh, please! It can’t be as bad as that.”
“It’s worse. It’s unspeakable, and therefore I don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right. We won’t mention it again. Would you like me to make you some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I don’t believe I need any coffee. What I need more than anything else is to go to bed, but what I need least of anything else is to go back to my room at the school, and this puts me in a dilemma. I’m no good in a dilemma. When I’m in a dilemma, I just do nothing or start drinking. That’s something else that drinking is handy for that I forgot to mention.”
She knew while he was speaking what she would do, and knew also she shouldn’t do it. Once, a very long time ago, she had wanted him and had had him briefly. Afterward she had not wanted him in the least, and had been unable to understand why she had ever wanted him. Now, because of her strange vulnerability, she wanted him again, knowing the time would shortly come when she would again not want him.
“Would you like to stay here?” she asked.
“I’d like it very much if you will let me.”
“It’s all right. You can stay if you want to.”
He leaned toward her and let his head fall forward upon her shoulder. She put her arms around him and felt, under the thin stuff of her gown, the hot appeal of his hands, to which she responded.
He is lonely and in need of me, she thought, and I am lonely and in need of him too, though he doesn’t know it, and if it is a mistake for one or for both of us, as it will certainly turn out to be, it is at least one that we can now make the most of.
Disengaging an arm for a moment, she removed her glasses and laid them aside.
Chapter V
1.
Thinking severity would be appropriate, she wore a brown wool gabardine suit and a simple white Dacron blouse with a string bow at the collar. As she waited in an outer office for Tyler to become free, Donna wondered that she had bothered to come here on an errand, certainly futile and with small chance of success. But she understood she was compelled to explore all possibilities, however remote, just as she had been compelled to effect the fiasco with Shirley Burns. Two hundred thousand dollars was to her an enormous sum of money, something about which one might talk, as one talked about the light years to the sun, but which was never quite clearly comprehended or obtained. Here in the rich atmosphere of the bank, where money was handled and kept in staggering amounts, paradoxically it seemed to be more remote and unobtainable than ever. However hard she tried to convince herself of the reasonableness of her effort, she simply could not imagine that a shrewd and conservative financier would risk so large an investment in her talent and confidence, which were all that she had to offer as security. Perhaps he would scoff at her. Perhaps, even worse, he would treat her appeal with the kind condescension that one accords the fantasy of a child. She could not bear the thought she was absolutely the greatest possible fool to expose herself to such humiliation, and if she were to leave immediately, she could still avoid it. But she did not leave, of course. Because she was compelled, she sat and waited.
“Mr. Tyler is ready to see you now. Please go right in.” Standing, Donna crossed to Tyler’s door and let herself into the office. Now that she was irrevocably committed and was acting positively, her dread of the interview was suddenly gone. The first thing she felt inside the office was an extravagant pleasure that she had worn by chance a color that went well with the dark walnut paneling, and she was able, moreover, to be amused by her pleasure as she would have been amused at choosing a hat to match a car. Tyler was seated behind a massive desk, walnut like the paneling, and he stood up as she entered and came around to meet her. Behind him an expanse of Venetian blinds admitted light in a pattern of horizontal bars. He was wearing gray, as he had been the one time she had seen him in the shop, expensive and impeccable, and he held her hand a moment with the same cool, dry touch she had noted then.
“How are you, Miss Buchanan?” he said. “I’m happy to see you again.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I wasn’t certain that you’d remember me.”
“You’re much too modest. It would be more difficult to forget you than it is to remember you.” He indicated a chair beside the desk. “Will you sit down?”
She thanked him again and accepted the chair. Seated again, he offered her a cigarette from a silver box on the desk, leaning forward to light it with a lighter that matched the box. The cigarette was just what she needed. She felt relaxed and durable and, if not confident of success, at least prepared to accept failure.
“Has Mr. Joslin spoken with you?” she asked.
“Yes, he has. About you — and very highly.”
“Mr. Joslin has been kind and helpful. I don’t know why he should concern himself with my affairs, but I’m thankful that he does. I suppose he explained to you why I asked to see you.”