He is like a child, she thought, with a terrible problem, whatever the problem may be.
“Are you going to sleep now?” she said.
“Maybe now. In a little while.”
“Do you feel good?”
“Yes, good. Very good.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“You.”
“What about me?”
“That you are lovely. That I love you. That I can almost believe in myself when you are with me, and that I cannot believe in myself, and consequently nothing at all, when you are not with me.”
“You shouldn’t say that. You must not be dependent on me or anyone else. It isn’t necessary.”
“Don’t you think so?”
“Of course not. Just consider a minute. It was only three weeks ago that we met again, and before that we knew each other for only a few months. You see? Out of all your life, you have known me less than half a year, and all the rest of the time you got along perfectly well without me.”
“I did not get along perfectly well.”
“Nonsense, darling. Certainly you did.”
“No. Perhaps sometime I’ll tell you just how I did not.”
“I’d like that. I’d like you to tell me about yourself.”
“Perhaps I’ll tell you.”
“But not now?”
“No, not now.”
“All right. Tell me how things were at school. Did you have a good week?”
“No. I had a terrible week. All weeks are terrible at the school.”
“Is it that bad?”
“It’s bad enough.”
“Why do you stay, then?”
“I don’t know. Where else is there to go?”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. You sound as if you thought Pine Hill were, so far as you’re concerned, the end of the world.”
“Perhaps it is. Who knows?”
“Oh, such nonsense! Besides, you are almost criticizing me by implication. I have tried to make you happy, and you obviously are not happy at all.”
“You mustn’t think that. When I am with you, I am as happy as I can be. I’d like to stay here always.”
“That’s not possible, of course.”
“I could at least stay again tomorrow night. Is that possible?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think you’d better.”
“Why? Can’t you stand me two nights in succession?”
“It’s not that. It’s just that we probably shouldn’t do it too often.”
“You’re only trying to avoid telling me the truth. You simply don’t want me. Have you planned to be with someone else?”
“No. With no one.”
“Truly?”
“Of course. Do you think I spend all my nights with different men in turn?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“I didn’t think you did, really.”
“May I stay, then?”
“All right.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
They lay quietly for several minutes, not talking, and then she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Do you want a cigarette now?” she said. “No, thank you.”
“I believe I’ll have one.”
She stood up and walked across the room in darkness to the table where she had left her case and matches. Lighting a cigarette, she stood and smoked it slowly with her back to the bed, and she could hear behind her no slightest sound.
The trouble is, she thought, I could never be strong enough. I am strong enough for one, but not for two, and after tonight — or tomorrow night, since I promised — I had better send him away for good, before worse is made of what is already bad enough.
Chapter VI
1.
She had planned to go on Sunday to see her mother, but she changed her mind and did not go, and she did not go the following Sunday, either. She tried to convince herself that she did not go because of other things which needed doing, and she actually worked hard at the shop on both days, but she knew quite well, nevertheless, that she did not go simply because she dreaded the visits so much. The third Sunday after her last trip to the high, narrow house on the mean street, she understood that it would be impossible to procrastinate any longer. It had now become imperative to go for the sake of her own peace, if nothing else, and so she took a taxi and got there about three o’clock in the afternoon.
Her father was in the living room. He did not rise from his chair when she entered, and apparently, since there was neither a book nor a newspaper in his hands or near him, he had simply been sitting alone and doing nothing. She was thankful that he remained still and made no effort to greet her physically, for she could not bear to have him touch her. His gray, curly hair was uncombed, and his face below it, still rather handsome in a heavy, florid fashion, had a kind of blurred look, the features somehow indistinct, as if he had been drinking heavily. She knew, however, that he had not, for he never drank at all. Neither did he smoke or gamble or engage in infidelity. His only vices were failure and petulance and sometimes petty sadism. Looking at him, she wished that she might never have to look at him again, but she was determined to be amicable.
“Well,” he said, “so you have finally condescended to come and see us.”
“I have come to see Mother,” she said, violating her amity at once with the pointed exclusion. “Is she here?”
“She’s upstairs in bed.”
“Taking a nap?”
“I don’t know if she’s asleep or not. She’s sick.”
“Sick? What’s the matter with her?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t had a doctor.”
“Has she been sick long?”
“Why should you be so concerned? If you came to see her a little more often, or if you lived at home as a decent daughter should, you would not have to ask such questions. What if she had died any time in the past three weeks? Would you want to know how long she had been dead?”
She turned away from him and started toward the door, but when she reached it, she stopped and turned and looked at him with loathing.
“I’ll tell you something,” she said, “which you know is perfectly true, though you would never admit it. I came here determined to be amicable, but I see that it is impossible, and so I will tell you what we both know. You have done a great deal for Mother, and I have done very little, this is true. But the little I have done has been for good, and the great deal that you have done has been for bad, all for bad. It would have been better if you had gone away and left her long ago.”
With an intensification of her loathing, she watched a dull and ugly flush rise slowly into his face. Before he could speak, she went on out into the hall and upstairs to her mother’s room. The room was closed tightly and did not look clean. The air was still and sour. On the bed, her mother lay breathing with a harsh, throaty sound, almost as if she were fighting strangulation, and every few seconds the strangled sound of breathing was punctuated by a moan. Crossing to the bed, Donna looked down at the sick woman and saw immediately that she was certainly burning with a high fever. That her illness was serious, if not critical, was obvious. “Mother,” Donna said.
She laid a hand on her mother’s forehead and repeated the word, and her mother’s eyes opened slowly and focused slowly.