Elizabeth’s dying words came back to him, “Don’t be too hard on Maury. The first time was not anticipated by either of us. All the rest was because of my need. He really loves you, Seth—if you must hate someone, hate me.”
Maury’s grin began to dissolve under the coldness of Seth’s stare.
“Hey! What’s the matter? Is that anyway to greet your old Pard?” As Seth continued to stare at him, his expression became perplexed and uneasy. “OK, Seth, what is it? Are you angry that I was unable to come to Liz’s funeral? I’m sorry about that. She was a great lady.” When Seth said nothing, he said, “I know, it was the dissolution of our partnership. I wanted to wait until you returned to Pawhuska, but I couldn’t. Things were moving fast in my new job and I had to get myself to New York.”
Seth just continued to stare at him.
“This is dumb, old buddy. Surely it wasn’t because I took some of the liquid out of the firm. Well, actually a lot of it, I suppose, but I left you all the other assets, including somevery promising oil leases down in Seminole county. If you are unhappy about that, we can work out some kind of an adjustment.”
Finally, Seth replied, his voice calm and low key. “I know about you and my wife.”
“Me and Liz? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Well, old friend, that whole year, you were sleeping with her.”
“You are crazy,” Maury said, but with a shade less force.
“Are you saying that Elizabeth lied to me on her death bed?”
Maury paled. “No—but listen Seth, you’ve got it all wrong. It was not like the way it possibly looks.”
“Any which way you turn it, it has a rotten side. You were my friend and partner. That should have meant something.” I even thought of you as my son.
“Seth, let’s talk this over.”
Seth turned and started back up the Capitol steps. Maury made a desperate grab for his arm. “Wait!” his voice hoarse, let me explain. You owe me that.”
Seth stopped and looked back at Maury. “I’m not interested in any explanation you can make. What I ever owed you is wiped clean. Just stay out of my way, you hear?”
Maury stood there with a stunned look on his face, watching Seth walk back up the steps. He opened his mouth to call out, “OK by me, old buddy,” but the words wouldn’t sound. He turned and walked slowly into the crowd below.
From his position on the far left of the portico, Seth could only get a partial view of the bareheaded Woodrow Wilson, with his left hand on Ellen Wilson’s small Bible and his right hand raised in oath taking. The oath was being administered by the former Confederate officer, Chief Justice White. Exactly at that moment, the sun broke through heavy gray clouds and was greeted by a murmur of appreciation by the crowd.
“A good omen, perhaps,” said a man standing next to Seth.
“Let us hope so,” Seth answered. “It’s been a long drought for the Democracy.”
Wilson’s ringing, “So help me God!” concluded the oath taking. The nation had a new President.
The wind popping the huge flags above his head made it difficult for Seth to hear much of Wilson’s address. There were some phrases that came through, like “high course of action” and “the right to social justice,” but for most of the content of his speech, Seth was going to have to resort to the newspapers.
He was irritated by the discourtesy of some of the people seated behind the President who were now rising and making their way back up the Capitol steps while he was still speaking. Among several women were Bessie Mae and Molly Langdon. When they came up to him, he asked, “Bessie Mae, where are you and Molly going?”
“It’s too damned cold down there,” she replied, clutching her outer wrap tightly about her. “Some of us congressional wives have set up a table on the House side where we will be serving hot coffee and doughnuts. Come along and join us. You can’t hear anything out here.”
“Reckon I won’t,” Seth said. Good Lord, the President is still speaking. “I want to see the whole show.”
Molly grabbed his arm, possessively. It’s getting to be a habit with this girl. “In that case, Mother, I’m staying with Seth. See you back at home.”
“That reminds me, Seth,” Bessie Mae said. “Some of the Senators and Representatives and their wives are going to walk down to the White House south lawn tonight to watch the fireworks. Afterwards, we are going to the Shoreham to have our own little inauguration party. We would like to have you join us.”
“Thanks, Bessie Mae, but I have a call that I must pay tonight.”
Molly looked at him quickly and let go of his arm. She had a pretty good idea who he was going to see. I thought thearrangement was just for lunch tomorrow. “Seth, I guess I will go with mother.”
“OK, see you later,” Seth said to her stiff back as she moved off after Bessie Mae.
13
THAT EVENING HER FACE REVEALED a mild annoyance when Annaliese opened the door of her second floor apartment.
“I know, I know,” Seth said with a placating wave of his hand. “I was supposed to call you tomorrow for lunch and I suppose you have plans for this evening. I didn’t want to take a chance that I would not see you tomorrow because I have to leave for New York.”
She relaxed into a smile. Holding her dressing gown closed, she nodded toward the living room. “Oh, it’s all right. Come in, Seth. You can keep me company while I get ready for my escort tonight.” She gestured toward a wood coat stand in the tiny foyer. “You can hang your big hat and overcoat there.”
“It’s called a Stetson.”
“Your overcoat is called a Stetson?”
“No. My big hat is called a Stetson.”
“How interesting. Would you care for a sherry?”
“Anything stronger? It’s been a long day.”
“Only sherry.”
“Sherry is fine, if it’s no bother.”
“I would not have offered if it were a bother. Besides, I think I would like one myself. You will find the decanter and glasses on the table behind the sofa. Give me a minute to slip into my gown and I’ll join you.” She disappeared down a small hallway.
He poured two small wine glasses of the dry sherry and looked around the sparsely furnished living room. It consisted mostly of a sofa, a long walnut table behind it, two upholstered arm chairs, two floor lamps, and a new looking cabinet style Victrola phonograph machine.
He was looking at the titles of books on a wall shelf when she returned wearing a blue and silver evening gown that emphasized the blue of her eyes.
“Help me, Seth,” she said, holding the back of her gown together with her right hand. “I’ve missed some of these darn buttons. Think you can hook me up?” She turned offering her back to him.
“No problem,” and he began to hook the last four buttons at the top as she held her chestnut hair up out of the way. His fingers felt thick and clumsy trying to get the small loops over the buttons, even though he had often performed the same act for Elizabeth on special occasions. After hooking the last one, he remembered the ritual in those early years of marriage when he would reach around and gently lay his hands on her breasts.
“Thank you, sir. You did that nicely.”
“Wasn’t much to it.”
“You must have done that a lot of times for your wife.”
He laughed. “Yes, but you only got the first part of the hooking up.”
“First part? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t think I had better explain that.”
Annaliese looked at him puzzled, and said, “Well, you did it nicely. Let’s sit so we can enjoy our sherry.” On the sofa, she sat half turned toward him, studying his face while she slowly sipped her drink.
“I see you have one of those new record machines. Do you enjoy it?
”
She shifted her eyes briefly toward the Victrola. “It is not mine. A friend loaned it to me. And, yes, I do enjoy it very much. When I get home from one of those exasperating days at the bureau, it is so utterly relaxing to get my bath, put on my robe and sit here with a drink listening to good music. Not that ragtime stuff you hear everywhere these days, but really fine music, you understand. I have some excellent Wagner. They are rather long or I would play one of them for you.”
“That’s OK. I can’t stay long. Besides, I don’t know much about that kind of music.” Was her smile a trifle condescending? Damn, we’re acting like a couple of strangers. “I have often thought of you, Annaliese.” Why did I say that?
“Oh yes?”
“Especially that night before you left Baltimore.”
She pointed toward his empty glass. “May I pour you some more?”
He looked at her searchingly. “Annaliese, am I wrong, but didn’t that night also mean something to you?”
“Seth, I thought I made my feelings clear about that in the note I sent the following day, when I had to leave Baltimore.”
“I know, but I was hoping it reflected only your concern for your Mother’s illness and maybe—”
“You must not read anything more in it other than my expression of thanks for that whole wonderful evening. Nothing more.”
So that was it. He had the answer he had come for and as a result he was feeling rather stupid. To cover his embarrassment, he asked, “How do you like your brand new job here in Washington?”
Her eyes suddenly brightened with enthusiasm. “Not exactly brand new, you know. I’ve been here a little over two weeks and things are beginning to shape up. Running the bureau is enormously satisfying and challenging. Politically, I am not exactly the same grass green goose that I was at the convention in Baltimore.”
“I wouldn’t call you that, you were a quick study.”
Her eyes flashed in disagreement. “I was grass green and you know it, Seth Cane. I badly needed your help and you came through for me. I know a lot more now. Oh, there is still a lot I need to learn and I still get derision from some of my male colleagues on other papers.” She laughed. “As well as frequent propositions. Several times, though, I’ve beaten them to the punch and they don’t know how to take it. I also seem to be something of a gadfly in the eyes of your good friend, the Secretary of State.”
“Yes, well—,” he trailed off, not sure what kind of comment he wanted to make.
She produced a package of Herbert Tarrington cork tips from a silver box on the sofa table, shook out a cigarette and held it out for him. He waved his hand no. She said, “Still no exciting vices, I see.”
“Oh, a few, I reckon.”
She smiled. “One of them wouldn’t be that young blonde you were with this morning, would it?”
“Molly Langdon?” he asked, surprised at her question. “Why, she’s only a kid.”
“No kid. She’s a nubile young woman,” she corrected, “and a very pretty one, at that.”
“OK, she is somewhat attractive, but—”
“More than somewhat, I would say. Seth, are you playing with me? There is something between you two. The way she was holding on to your arm indicated some intimacy there.”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Have you slept with her yet? She said you were staying at her home.” She looked at his face and shook her head. “No, I can tell by your shocked expression that you haven’t yet. More’s the pity. What are you waiting for?”
“Annaliese—don’t be ridiculous. She is the daughter of my very close friends. I’m almost twice her age.”
“Nonsense, you are nowhere near that.”
She laughed at his discomfort. “OK, relax my friend. I’mjust teasing you, but, you really should not ignore the possibilities there.”
This was teasing that hurt. Not because of any suggestion of an affair with Molly, but because it was her device to establish further distance from any notion on his part of a lingering intimacy from Baltimore.
She said she must have left her watch in the bedroom and asked if he had the time.
“Going on seven thirty,” he answered after consulting his pocket watch. Her hint was plain. It was time for him to go. He stood up and she stood up with him.
“This has been nice, Seth. I’m so sorry, but I am expecting my dinner companion any moment now. As you can see, I haven’t fixed my face yet.”
“Looks fine to me, but I quite understand,” he said. “I should not have barged in on you tonight without calling.”
“It was grand seeing you again and I enjoyed our little chat.” As they walked toward the foyer, she said, “Seth, I wish you well in whatever you undertake. Should you ever get to Washington again, you must call me and we’ll arrange lunch.”
She retrieved his coat and hat from the stand for him and when he put them on she said, “As you Texans say, ‘Have a care, Seth Cane’.”
“You too, Annaliese Faver.”
She opened the front door for him and they were both startled to find a man in evening clothes wearing an expensive fur collared overcoat and top hat. He had one gloved hand raised intending to knock on the door.
“Captain Boy-Ed,” Annaliese exclaimed. “What are you doing here?’
Karl Boy-Ed’s eyes flickered appraisingly toward Seth before he said, “We’ve had a bit of an emergency at the Embassy tonight. Nothing serious, but I am afraid Lieutenant Dohrman is going to be busy for several hours. However, with his knowledge and your permission, I volunteer as a humble substitute to escort you to dinner.”
For the first time that Seth had known her, Annaliese seemed suddenly disconcerted. She looked from him to Boy-Ed.
“Captain Boy-Ed, this is my friend Mr. Cane from Texas—I mean Oklahoma. Seth, Captain Boy-Ed is the Naval Attache’ at the German Embassy. He is Paul Dohrman’s immediate superior.”
The two men shook hands, gripping hard, appraising the other with cold eyes that belied their tight smiles. Even if Seth had met the man at any place other than Annaliese’s front door, he would not have liked him.
“Captain,” Annaliese said, “this is somewhat unusual.”
“Of course,” Boy-Ed said smiling. “It seems we are both without a dinner companion tonight, and it will give me an opportunity to discuss some ideas his Excellency has for a few changes in the bureau, which I think you might like. However, I certainly do not wish to impose myself on your evening.”
Seth watched her face as she resolved her momentary confusion. “Yes. Won’t you come in, Captain Boy-Ed. I will be ready in a moment. Seth, again, it was nice seeing you. Remember, you must call me the next time you are in Washington.”
He had been dismissed.
Outside he fastened his overcoat and pulled down his Stetson. There were no stars visible. The clouds had returned and a light cold mist was falling.
He addressed the night chill. “Well, now I know how the cow ate the cabbage.”
14
THE TAXI STAND AT THE Union Station seemed to offer the best opportunity to catch a cab on that chilly inaugural evening. He walked the few blocks to it from Annaliese’s apartment but there were no cabs waiting in the stand in front of the station. Waiting there with his chin sunk into his upturned overcoat collar and his hands thrust deep into the pockets, he came to a decision. He would leave for Oklahoma in the morning after sending a note of apology to the Bryans for not attending their reception tomorrow night. He would have to make a short stop at the Larimers’ to explain to Ginny and Aunt Eudora his need to return home. He didn’t need to tell them that he had barely enough money for the ticket and he had to get back to earn a living. But it was the only practical move for he was licensed to practice in Oklahoma and would have no problem lining up a position with some f
irm. It probably wouldn’t be in Pawhuska but perhaps in Tulsa or Oklahoma City where he had some connections.
His hand felt something long and crinkly in his right pocket. He fished it out. It was the forgotten cigar Bill Murray had given him. He shucked off the wrapper, bit off and spit out the tip and located the small box of wooden matches, with Woodrow Wilson’s picture on it, that he had picked up in that small diner on Pennsylvania Avenue. This is a train station, right? Some taxis have to show up here soon. As he struck the wooden match across the side of the box, he was startled by a series of loud explosions coming from the direction of the Washington Monument, followed by a red, white and blue floral pattern of bursting rockets in the sky.
Then he remembered Bessie Mae saying that there would be fireworks on the south lawn of the White House tonight to cap the inaugural festivities.
Just then an empty taxi, brakes squealing, pulled to the curb. “Where to Mister?” the driver asked. Seth opened the door and gave the Langdon address.
15
A HARDY LARGE CROWD WAS assembled on that south lawn of the White House to greet each colorful pyrotechnic burst with “Oohs” and “Ahs” and applause. A smaller group, bundled against the cold, stood on the White House porch watching the display. The President was there, beginning to show fatigue after standing seven hours earlier reviewing the parade of marching troops, bands and floats from a temporary platform on the other side of the White House. He was accompanied on the porch by his family, the Axsons ,his wife’s family from out of town, his physician Dr. Grayson, Vice President and Mrs. Thomas R. Marshall , three secret service men and Mr. Handsome Otho Comfort of Texas, his personal bodyguard during the 1912 campaign,.
“Hot dang!” the latter exclaimed after a particularly loud stunning burst of green and white. “It kinda reminds me of the time in ‘96 when Sally Parsons blew up off Galveston.”
An Axson woman cousin standing beside him, turned to him, wide-eyed, “How horrible! Who was this Sally Parsons?”
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