So we walked around the house and up the porch, and inside the door was a skinny little man marking down people’s names as they came in. There were some people ahead of us, and he didn’t look surprised to see any of them, but when it came to our turn he did. He looked at us that way, and Egan said, “Hello, Ingle. The name is Egan. Daniel Egan.”
“That’s right,” the man said. “That’s right,” as if there was any question about it. Then he looked at the names on his paper and at Egan and me and said, “Well, you’re not on the list but I’ll take care of that. I’ll make a note of it. You’re not staying for the ceremonies tomorrow, are you?”
“No,” Egan said, “we just came for potluck.”
“That’s right,” the man said again. “Yes, well, I’m glad you two could make it.”
“I knew you would be,” Egan said.
That’s how it went with everybody we met there. First they’d be so surprised to see Egan you’d think he had two heads, then they’d be nice and polite, and Egan was so polite back to them that it was hard to believe. And once I found out that most of the talk was about the same old things I stopped worrying so much and started to have a real good time for myself.
What the men wanted to talk about was how quick they drove up to the college, and what roads they used, and how much gas it took them, and anything to do with cars. And what the women wanted to talk about was babies. For all they were so young and nice-looking there wasn’t any of them didn’t have a couple of babies. So they would talk about them, and about who was taking care of them over the week end, and about how much trouble it was getting baby-sitters, and then they would take out pictures and show them around. I liked that, because I could look at the pictures and say, “Isn’t he sweet,” and “Isn’t she a doll,” and get along fine that way.
I even got along fine with the women all by myself later on. There was a little room with a toilet in back of it had been fixed up as a powder room and when I went in I saw a lot of them there talking their heads off to each other. One of them was a cute little blond thing, and she was sitting in front of the dressing table trying to pin up the strap of her slip. She saw me in the mirror waiting in back of her, and she said, “Give me a hand, will you, honey?” and from the way she said it I knew right off she was from down South.
So I helped her pin up the strap, and she said, “God bless you for that, honey,” and then she said, “Aren’t men the biggest goddam babies in the whole world? I’m Elizabeth-Ann Chandler, honey, but you just call me Liz. You see my man yet? I bet you did if he got first look at you. He’s the big fat one with a drink in both hands and women on his mind. What’s your name, honey? Where are you from?”
I said, “Barbara-Jean, and I’m from Florida,” because if you say you’re from around Key West, people might think you’re just plain Conch, and I didn’t want that.
“Well, Florida!” Liz said. “Ain’t that something? You and I are just good old back-fence neighbors, honey. I’m from Alabama myself, even if the boss does keep me locked up in a barn out where the tall corn grows.” And then she said to the other ones, “Girls, look what I’ve got here. This is Barbara-Jean and she’s the prize-winning Rebel of them all, so now you Yankees can just go home and leave the men to us,” and they all laughed, but in a nice way.
So I stayed and talked to them awhile, some about babies, but a lot about men and buying clothes and such, and it was very nice. When I got out it was almost dark and I was real ravenous, but I couldn’t find Egan to tell him, what with all those people around, and so many rooms. But it turned out not to matter, anyhow, because one room had been fixed up with things to eat on a long table, and a lot of bottles on another table with a man in a white jacket to mix drinks.
That was the best time of all. Not the eating, but what happened when I started to put some stuff on my plate. Before I knew it, a man took the plate out of my hand and said, “Let me show you the trick to this,” and he went around the table with me following him while he filled my plate with so much of everything it would take a year to eat it. And along the way some other men started joking about it and helping him, and one went and brought me a highball, so by the time I got off in a corner where I could stand and eat, there must have been six or seven men around talking to me and not bothering about anybody else at all.
I guess it was the best time in my whole life up to then. There was a big mirror on the wall across the room, and I could see myself in it with all those nice-looking men around me talking and laughing, and all I wished was that Marilyn Olivas could see for herself what was happening. With all her stinking white dresses. And her José Marti.
The only little thing bothered me was when I saw the drinking going on, and got to wondering if Egan was loading up, too. It would be awful if he was, because he was always hard to handle when he drank too much, and we were so far away from home. So after a while I said I had to go find somebody and went looking for him. He wasn’t anywhere around, but when I got out to the hall near the front door I saw him going up the stairs to the second floor. At the top of the stairs he stopped and just stood there holding the bannister. I went up to see what was wrong, and he turned and looked at me in the funniest way, almost as if he didn’t know who it was.
I said, “You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?” because that’s how he looked.
“No,” he said. “I haven’t.”
“Well, what are you doing here? What’s up here anyhow?”
“Rooms and rooms,” he said. “I used to live in that one at the end of the hall.”
“What’s it like? Can we go see it?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I said.
“Because there’s someone in it.”
“How do you know? Anyhow, it wouldn’t bother him if we knocked on the door first, would it?”
“It would bother me,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this.”
I didn’t want to go home right away, but I knew it was no use arguing with him when he was all worked up over something, so I followed him down the steps. That was when I got a real jolt. Two people were coming in the door, and my first look at the woman I was sure I knew her from somewhere. Then I remembered where. She was that Beatrice from Egan’s photo, the one he had drawn the angel’s body under. She was talking to this man she was with, and when she turned her head it was easy to see she was the one.
I guess Egan must have seen her at the same time because he stopped short, and then I knew why he wanted to come to the college and what a fool he had made of me, and I hated him for it. Then she saw him and stopped short, too, so that the man with her turned to look at us. That was how it was, with all of us standing there and looking at each other like fools. We might have still been there if it was up to Egan, but the woman said something to the man and came walking up to us, and he followed her.
“Hello, Danny,” she said, and he said, “Hello, Marian,” which meant he had even lied to me about her name, as if it made any difference to me what it was.
Then the man said, “Hello, Egan,” and because he couldn’t help take notice of my wedding ring, the way I was turning it around and around on my finger for all of them to see, he said to me, “And you’re Mrs. Egan, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said. “I’m Barbara-Jean Avery.”
“How lucky for Mr. Avery,” he said. “And since introductions are in order, I’m Noel Claiborne and this is Mrs. Claiborne,” all the time looking me over real tourist-style so that I knew what type he was without anyone having to tell me.
But Egan wasn’t paying any attention. The only thing he was interested in was that Marian woman.
“How’s the family?” he asked her. “How are Mama and Papa?”
“Very well,” she said.
“And Aldo?”
“Oh, I imagine he’s the same old Aldo. He’s married, you know, and a terribly proud father. Of course, we don’t get much of a chance to see him or Mother and Father. It’s qu
ite a trip.”
“Is it?” said Egan, and Claiborne said to me, “Well, if these two want to renew old acquaintance, there’s nothing we can do but run for it. Have you seen this whole place yet?”
“No,” I said.
“Fine. Then I’ll show it to you.”
I didn’t care what Egan thought. Claiborne took my hand and we went off together like that, walking through one room after another, not really looking at anything, but talking. It was easy, because when he asked what part of Florida I came from I told him, and it turned out he was stationed in Key West for a while when he was in the Navy, so there was a lot to talk about. He didn’t know about Mooney’s Key because he didn’t like fishing, but he knew all about Duval Street and Trumbo Road and the Martellos, and we got along fine.
He was the smoothest thing I ever saw. In a big room where some Ping-Pong tables had been pushed up against the wall, there was a phonograph playing and people dancing. He said to me, “Care to dance?” and before I could say anything he had his arm around me and danced me through all the people there to the other end of the room, and when we went out the door he kept his arm around me and I let him.
We took our time about it, but when we got back to the hall Egan and that Marian were standing just where we left them. They weren’t saying anything, but I could tell from the way they looked that something must have happened between them. And whatever it was, they were both so furious about it that you could feel it in the air. Then Egan turned my way, and I knew I couldn’t have picked a worse time to let another man fool around with me like that, even if it was only putting his arm around me. Not that I even liked Claiborne to do it. For all he was so smooth and good-looking, there really wasn’t anything to him. The only thing I had wanted was for Egan to see us together like that, but now that he did I was sorry. I shoved Claiborne’s hand away, but it was no use.
“Well,” Egan said, “pretty chummy, aren’t you?”
He didn’t sound angry about it, but he said it loud enough to make people turn around and look. So I went up to him and took hold of his arm and said, “Please, don’t start anything, Egan. We were only walking around looking at things, and now I want to go home.”
He didn’t listen to me. He looked at Claiborne and said in that same polite voice but loud, “What is it, Claiborne? Can’t I bring any girl in here without you making a pass at her? You’ve got the makings of a bad habit, man.”
It was that Marian stopped the trouble from getting worse. Before Claiborne could say anything, she said to Egan like a cat spitting, “Well, thank you for that!” and said to Claiborne, “And thank you, too, Noel. Thank you for everything!” and pushed through the people around us and ran out the big door there with Claiborne running after her.
It was the best thing that could have happened. Even with all those people looking at the door and then at Egan and me as if we were crazy, it couldn’t have been better. Because when we went outside to the car, there was that Marian standing by the porch rail with Claiborne trying to make her listen to him, and Egan walked right by, never bothering to look at her.
FOURTEEN
I could tell from the way he drove that he was in a bad mood, but mine wasn’t so much better that I wanted to talk him out of it. So I sat as far away from him as I could get, looking out into the dark and wondering when he would cut loose. There was no question he would, sooner or later. I knew him well enough by now to expect that much.
The trouble was that other times when we had a fight I could answer him right back, but now I didn’t want to. It was that Marian did it to me. In all the time I knew Egan he never bothered about any other girl, but I could tell he was plenty bothered about her. And I couldn’t see how her being married would stop him from going after her again, if he took it into his head to do it. It never mattered to him that I was married, so why would it be different with her?
That was the first time I ever thought of what it might be like not to have him around, and it made me sick. I even got to feeling sorry for that Marian, the way she was stuck with Claiborne, and the way she must have felt seeing him and Egan against each other. Claiborne was better-looking than Egan and it was a sure thing he had a lot more money, but he was all outside and no inside while Egan was the other way around. It made it kind of tough to be with Egan sometimes, but it was always interesting. I guess that’s why I loved Jimmy so much. He was like that, and Egan was the only other one I ever knew who was the same way.
After a while I couldn’t stand to think about it any more and waiting for him to open up on me. I moved over next to him and put my arm through his and said, “Don’t be mad, Egan.”
“Mad?” he said. “Who the hell is mad?”
“You are. But I don’t want you to be. I’ve got just as much right as you to be mad and I’m not.”
“That’s nice of you. Didn’t you have a good time?”
“Yes.”
“And wasn’t the company delightful?”
“Yes, a lot more than you said they’d be.”
“Then what have you got to complain about? You were the belle of the ball.”
“I’m not complaining. And it’s no fun being the belle of the ball if you want to be a son of a bitch about it afterward. Anyhow, I sure wasn’t your belle of the ball. There was somebody else there meant a lot more to you than me.”
“But not in the same way. Take my word for that.”
As if I hadn’t seen for myself what went on. I said, “There’s only one way a woman like that means anything to a man, Egan, and you know it. And you knew she’d be there, didn’t you?”
“I thought she might be.”
“You sure did. And that’s why you wanted to come here, isn’t it? You wanted to be with her and see what she was like now and maybe start something with her all over again. And all that crazy talk about Aunt Hattie’s children and taking me along because of it—that was just being funny, wasn’t it? And all that loving and kissing and sweet talk you try out on me—that’s just practicing for her, isn’t it? You think Claiborne is bad, making passes the way he does? Well, you’re a hundred times worse, because you work at it so hard!”
We were going very fast down this winding road to the highway. He swung off the road so suddenly and jammed on the brakes so hard that the car almost heeled over. Then he got his hand behind my neck and gripped me there, turning my head toward him that way. I tried to pull loose but I couldn’t, and the funny thing was that I didn’t really mind. It was kind of exciting, feeling the way he held me so I couldn’t move, and I liked it, even if I was a little scared.
“You damn fool,” he said. “Do you think everything is as neat and pretty as one of those Technicolor movies your head is full of? Do you think every situation you run into is some fifth-rate script ready for background music and a happy ending? That makes life a real dream, doesn’t it? Now you can work out the story of me and my old flame so that we’re blissfully reunited while you duck out and go have your pipe dreams where nobody’ll bother you with his loving and kissing and sweet talk. That’s what it comes to, doesn’t it? But not this time. Oh no, not this time, lady. You may be dumb and deceitful but I like you. In fact, I more than like you. If you don’t know that by now, you’re a hopeless case, but not too hopeless for me.”
That made me real mad. I said, “I am not dumb and deceitful! Where do you come off to call names like that? You’re worse than Avery when it comes to calling names.”
“Oh, you’re dumb and deceitful all right,” Egan said. “You and your stories about the family estate on Mooney’s Key and all the money in the family. And the interlude with the rich Cuban. Jesus, what an imagination. I can see those waving palm trees now, and the butler standing by the yacht waiting to help you in. Not that it isn’t a lot prettier than a shanty where they serve turtleburgers and lime pie to fishing parties. Turtleburgers! What the hell are turtleburgers anyhow?”
“You eat them,” I said. “Who told you? Avery?”
“He didn’t tell me, he told Guion. They had a prayer meeting in the barge a few nights ago over a bottle of liquor, and he told Guion a lot of interesting things. From what Guion said, your husband is quite a talker once he gets wound up. Well, what the hell, you don’t have to cry about it. It’s nothing to cry about. Don’t you think I knew all along that those fairy tales were a load of crap?”
But I couldn’t help crying, I was so ashamed. And when he put his arm around my waist and pulled me close I didn’t stop either, because I saw he felt bad about it and that made me feel better. Then he started to sweet-talk me so that I was crying and laughing together, and he said, “Well make up your mind. Is it laughter or tears?” and I said, “You don’t know, Egan. Turtleburgers are just awful,” and he had to laugh, too, so I knew things were better between us.
He said, “All the same you’ll have to make up your mind about a couple of things. Like Avery. When do you tell him you’re walking out on him?”
“I don’t know when. I wouldn’t even know what to tell him, Egan.”
“Then walk out without telling him.”
“I couldn’t. It cost him an awful lot to marry me. I guess it cost him almost everything he had. He’d never let me get away with it. You know that.”
“Maybe so, but where does that leave me? Waiting around for something to happen to him?” And then he said, “Or would it be better if I made sure something did happen?”
I didn’t like the way he said that. I told him so, and he said, “Well, what the hell, when you get down to cases I’m more your husband now than he is except for one thing, and that’s the good old-fashioned sexual act. There’s no reason we have to play games about it any more. And don’t be misled by those paintings of nymphs and satyrs in the museum. They might look like they’re only chasing each other in those pictures, but there’s a point to it, and somebody always gets caught. You see what I’m getting at, don’t you?”
The Winter After This Summer Page 27