Instantly, he found himself in an atmosphere of masculine gaiety and good fellowship, the large reception hall, the adjoining living room and the dining room beyond were full of men standing around in groups, talking, laughing, arguing. When they caught sight of Safferstein, they hailed him jovially.
"Hi, Billy."
"Hyuh, Billy, old boy."
"Hey, there's Bill Safferstein."
From the tone of their greeting, he suspected that Kaplan had already told them of his offer to buy the Goralsky property and that they approved.
He took off his coat and looked around for a place to put it, there were large piles of coats on several chairs in the reception hall, but since his was wet, he hesitated to place it on top of them.
Kaplan greeted him and then whispered, "It's all set." Taking his coat, he said, "It's wet, I better hang it up in the closet." Kaplan draped it on a hanger and then pushed the mass of coats along the closet rod and insinuated Safferstein's. "How's Mona? She okay now?"
"I went to get her some medicine and the driving was so bad I thought I'd stop here till it lets up a little."
"You bet. Come and have a glass of beer." "Coffee would be better if you've got it." "Sure. One coffee coming up."
"Say, can I use your phone?" "Right there."
He dialed his house. It was the maid who answered. "Hilda? How's Mrs. Safferstein?... Oh, good. If she wakes up, tell her I stopped off at the Kaplans because of the storm, and I'll be along later."
Mrs. Kestler leaned over the banister and called down to her husband below. "Joe, come quick. Your father— he sounds terrible."
He ran up the stairs. "Hey, Pa, what's the matter? You all right?" To his wife he snarled. "Don't just stand there, dummy. Call the doctor."
She hurried downstairs, he could hear her dialing and then talking but he could not make out what she was saying, he went down to join her, and she turned to him, her hand cupping the receiver. "It's the answering service, she wants to know what's the matter and she'll notify Dr. Cohen."
Grabbing the phone out of her hand, he shouted into it. "Look, lady, my father is acting up from some pill Doc Cohen gave him. You get hold of him and tell him to get his ass over here right away. Understand?" He banged down the receiver.
"Oh, Joe, I don't think you should have talked to her like that. You know, out of spite they can—"
"She better not. I could sue her for everything she's got down to her panties. You go and stay with him. I'll wait here by the phone."
"Oh, Joe, I'm afraid."
"Afraid? What's to be afraid of?"
"I don't know, he looks so— so funny."
"Go on. I want to be here to answer the phone when the doc calls. You, he could give fifty-seven varieties of crap."
Reluctantly, she started for the stairs, the phone rang, and she paused.
"Yeah, Who?"
"I'm Dr. DiFrancesca." said the voice over the phone. "Dr. Cohen can't be reached. His phone appears to be out of order. I'm standing in for him. What's the matter?"
"Well, he gave him this pill, and now he's having trouble breathing."
"I see. I think we'd better get him to the hospital. I'll call the police, and they'll send the ambulance. I'll alert the hospital that he's coming."
"And what happens if he gets worse on the way to the hospital?"
"Well.., well, all right. I'll have the ambulance stop and get me and I'll come by with them."
"Hey, Chet, got an extra one of those maps?"
"Sure, Howard, plenty, help yourself." Chester Kaplan held out a sheaf of Xeroxed sheets showing the route to the campsite where the retreat was to be held. "Now you're coming for sure, aren't you?"
"Would I give you my check for twenty-five bucks if I didn't plan to make the scene?"
Since the rain had let up a little, many of the guests began to leave, taking advantage of the lull in the storm, with much jovial humor, they moved toward the hall to get their hats and coats.
"While you're at it, Bert, pick out a good one." "Hey, you sure you wore a coat?"
"Now remember, you guys," Kaplan called out to them, "we start out from here at half past two sharp. But if you should miss us, you'll have no trouble getting there by just following the map."
As Safferstein rose, Dr. Muntz called out to him, "You going now, Bill?"
"Well, I—You staying?" "Sure. Stick around for a while."
Kaplan approached. "What's your hurry. Bill? Edie is fixing some sandwiches, we'll have another cup of coffea and shmoos a little."
"Well, all right. How does it look?"
"In the bag, I'd say. I figure there'll be no sweat voting it officially Sunday."
"Fine."
"I got a couple of letters from people interested in the vacant store. One is from a paint and wallpaper—"
Safferstein shook his head.
"And there's a letter from the drugstore about his lease."
"What about it?" Safferstein asked quickly.
"It seems his lease was expiring, so he wrote to Goralsky for a renewal, the old man agreed and had the forms drawn up. But he died before he got around to signing them."
Safferstein smiled broadly. "Is that so?" "What do you want me to do?"
"Why don't you just write Aptaker and tell him I'm taking over and to see me about it."
Marcus Aptaker turned the key in the lock and then jiggled the knob to make sure the door was locked. "Good night, Ross," he said, and to his son, "Coming, Arnold?"
"You go ahead, Dad. I got my car here. I'll be along a little later."
The rain had stopped but it was misting, and as Akiva drove along the shore road he encountered patches of heavy fog that his headlights could barely penetrate, as he approached the house by the shore he saw that the entire area was dark, not only the houses but the street lights as well, he began to have doubts. Leah might have taken the boy to her parents' house at the approach of the storm and was there with him now. Or if they had remained, then they could be asleep, and if he rang the bell...
Then he saw her silhouetted in the window, looking out at the turbulent ocean, he parked his car and walked across the street, hoping she would recognize him as he approached.
She opened the door before he could reach for the bell. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "What do you want?"
"I tried to call you a couple of times, but I guess your line is dead. I was worried. You're right on the water. I thought I'd run out and see if you were all right."
"The electricity is out," she said, "and I used up the one candle I had." She stood aside for him to enter.
He found his way into the living room and sat on the sofa, a moment later he felt it give as she plumped down beside him, her thigh was tight against his, and he thought she had misgauged the distance in the darkness. But she leaned against him, and then she was on top of him, her mouth pressed hard against his.
Later, when they were lying close together on the narrow sofa, she murmured. "It's been so long."
"For me too," he said huskily.
The phone rang, and Chester Kaplan called from across the room. "Take it, will you, al."
Dr. Muntz picked up the phone and said. "This is the Kaplan residence....Who?.., he's not here. Just a minute, hold on." He cupped the instrument and called out to Kaplan. "It's for Dan Cohen. Was he here tonight? I didn't see him." He spoke into the phone again. "No, he didn't get here. Say, who is this?... Oh, it's you, John. I thought I recognized your voice. What's up? ... What! ... Just a minute." He raised his head and said. "Hey, pipe down, you guys, will you? I can't hear."