I said quietly, “You haven’t asked me for my side of the story yet.”
She turned to look at me rigidly. “I’m afraid to.”
“It’s a newspaper that can make a lot out of nothing,” I said.
She continued to look at me. She didn’t speak.
I said quietly, “Do you remember when we met, in Miss Engle’s English class, Carol?”
She nodded slightly.
“That was a long time ago,” I said. “Think of all the years since, Carol.”
“I’ve been thinking of nothing else all the way from the lake,” she said hoarsely.
“All right, then,” I said, “I rest my case.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. Just one question, Jim.”
I waited.
Her voice was a strained whisper. “Were you unfaithful to me, Jim?”
I thought of Max’s warning and I thought of the brokers at Ted’s. I thought of the years behind and the years ahead. And I cursed myself for being a square.
Because I had to say, “Yes, Carol, I was.”
She seemed to wince as though from some impact. She said, “Then there’s nothing more to say.”
“Only that this is the last half of the twentieth century,” I went on doggedly. “Only that it happens time and again to many, many marriages and nobody suffers because nobody finds out. Only that this is the first time for me.” I took a step toward her. “And I could have lied, Carol.”
She nodded. “Yes, you could have. And saved a marriage. Isn’t this marriage worth a lie, Jim?”
“I’ve never lied to you, Carol. I wouldn’t know how.”
Both her hands were gripping the edge of the sink now. Her voice was unnaturally even. “There are two alternatives. I can leave with the children, or you can leave. I think, for the children’s sake, it would be better if you left, don’t you?”
I said, “I think, for the children’s sake, it would be better if neither of us left and you showed a little common sense and tolerance.”
“That isn’t possible,” she said. “I’ll pack then.”
“No,” I said. “If you don’t think of the children, I’ll have to. I’ll go. You tell them I’m on a business trip. Then, when your mind is made up about us, you can get in touch with me.”
She nodded like a robot. “All right. That’s sensible.”
I took another step toward her. “Carol, for God’s sake …”
“Don’t,” she said almost shrilly. “Don’t come near me.”
• • •
I’m not too clear about the rest of it. I remember packing, and I remember explaining to Jim that I had to go to San Francisco for a brokers’ convention. I don’t think Jim believed me, but Sue did and Sue wanted me to promise I would bring a present back for her, “a surprise, something I couldn’t guess.” And I promised I would.
Carol had pulled the Ford up out of my way by the time I took my bags out to the Olds. I put them in the back and looked toward the house, wondering if one more plea to Carol might not turn the trick. Her decision couldn’t be final, not because of one indiscretion in a marriage as sound as ours. Carol was not a fool, nor a tyrant. Carol was just a one-man woman and her man had gone wrong. She’d see the light.
But not today, I felt sure. I got into the car and backed it out and tried not to notice any neighbors who might be around. I took Sunset down to the Coast Highway.
The bathers were still along the beach, though there were a few gaps in the parked cars now. The Packard wasn’t there, and I considered driving over to Lynn’s, as I approached the mouth of the Canyon.
But what had happened in the last hour was not anything I wanted to share with Lynn. What had happened was the severing of a lifeline that ran all the way back to Iowa. It was the most important thing that had ever happened to me and didn’t concern Lynn in any way.
What if the tables had been reversed? What if Carol had been unfaithful? The act itself is simple enough and meaningless without affection. There is no physical injury involved, no basic lack of loyalty involved; there is only a violation of a moral code. There are ten possible violations of my moral code; why was this one so important? And if I could commit this one, why couldn’t I commit a smaller one, the lie, and repair the damage of the first one?
Did I want to leave Carol?
I went back to my first thought; what if Carol had been unfaithful? I pictured her with men I knew — and felt sick.
That was my point and established my guilt. I didn’t want it to happen to me but I had done it to her.
But I was drunk, I tried to lie to myself. Everybody lies, steals, blasphemes, worships false idols. Some people murder. What was so damned special about adultery? I asked myself.
And the only answer which came was, Aren’t you glad it wasn’t Carol who was unfaithful?
I didn’t know what to look for, an apartment or a hotel or a motel. I settled finally for a pleasant, two-story motel on Wilshire about four blocks from the office.
It wouldn’t be for long, I told myself, and only half-believed.
On Wilshire, the traffic hummed and snorted and growled and clanged. On the bed, I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. Too much had happened today; I was emotionally exhausted. But I couldn’t nap.
I thought about Tom Edlinger and Rita. Tom was dead, now, and Rita something the bartender had to keep an eye on. Had that been because of Lynn? Or because of some defect in Tom? Or perhaps in Rita? Rita’s money and Tom’s talent had brought them along.
Carol’s money sense and my open face had brought us along, too, by Iowa standards. I wondered what Carol was doing now — if she was crying. In the kitchen, she hadn’t cried, but she was probably crying now. I hoped the kids didn’t see her cry.
Damn it, was it all my fault?
I unpacked my clothes and put them away. Then I phoned Lynn.
“I’d like to take you to dinner, but not at Heeney’s. How about Bess Eiler’s?”
“All right. What happened, Jim?”
“I’ll tell you at dinner. Should I pick you up?”
“Please. Old Ironsides has been acting up again.”
She must have been watching for my car. Because she came out her front door as I was stepping from the car. I went around to hold the door for her.
She paused before getting into the car. “You look sick, Jim. Are you?”
“A little. And how about you?”
“I’m — better. Jim, have you seen your wife?”
I nodded.
She was silent, the question in her eyes.
“She threw me out of the house,” I said.
“She believed the story in the Star?”
“We’ll talk about that,” I said impatiently. “Get in.”
“Do you think it’s wise, being seen together? I mean for you, Jim.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “All I know is that I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”
She looked at me doubtfully for a moment before getting into the car. I drove straight across Channel Road and cut up the grade toward Ocean Avenue. We drove about five blocks without talking.
Then Lynn said smilingly, “You’re being the executive type, this evening, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry. It’s been a — miserable day. It could be the first of many.”
Silence for seconds and then almost in a whisper, “Didn’t your wife ask for your side of the story?”
I nodded. “And I gave it to her.”
A longer silence, and then, “I see. You couldn’t lie, I suppose?”
“That’s right, Lynn. But don’t ask me why. I’ve lied to a lot of people in my life.”
“But not to her. You must love her very much.”
“Yes, Dorothy Dix, I must.”
We came out on Ocean Avenue and continued to Wilshire, where I had to wait for a left turn. There, Lynn asked quietly, “Why did you want to take me to dinner? You’re not in a mood for it.”
“I thought there was
still a chance that I could help you, Lynn. And I wanted to ask you about Rita Edlinger.”
Her voice was grave. “Jim, why do you want to be involved with people like us?”
“Because I never have been, I suppose.” I looked over to see her looking bleakly out at the traffic.
“We’re a novelty,” she said. “You’re being patronizing, Jim.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s nothing like that.”
She sighed. “All right. I shouldn’t have said it. But is Bess Eiler’s a good choice for dinner? It’s where the — the solid citizens eat, Jim. Some of your friends could be there.”
“So …? How can it hurt me? People who want money badly will always come to me. People who don’t won’t.” Max’s words, I gave her.
“I wasn’t thinking of business.”
“Well, my personal reputation is my concern, not anybody else’s.”
“No,” she said. “That’s not true and you know it. But I’m too tired and hungry to argue with you.”
Some of my friends might have been at Bess Eiler’s, but I didn’t see any. It was a new place of Lannon stone, large and impressive, with the best middle-class food in town.
It was a dull meal. Lynn talked about Rita Edlinger, but it was mostly opinion and Lynn’s opinion of Rita Edlinger was colored by her own prejudice and the Heeney gang standards. I switched the dialogue from Rita to Tom.
“Tom never should have married,” she said. “He didn’t have a married man’s temperament. And he had too much physical attraction for women. What could marriage offer him?”
“Rita, for one thing. Despite your opinion of her, that’s a lot of woman, Lynn.”
“Maybe. But he could have had her without the license, too. Tom could have had anybody.”
“Perhaps he could have had her, but not her money,” I said.
Lynn’s face stiffened and her voice was ragged. “That was rotten. You didn’t even know him.”
“I’m getting to know him better every hour.”
“No, you’re not. He’s dead, and you’ll never know him. And you’re not equipped to understand people like him. And I’m people like him. Let’s get out of here; take me home.”
The brown eyes weren’t soft now, and her thin hands trembled on top of the table.
“Easy,” I said. “Don’t be so sure you’re right about everything, Lynn.”
“Right or wrong, I can be loyal,” she said. “Take me home.”
“As soon as I finish my coffee. There’s no need to get hysterical.”
She took a deep breath and clenched her hands. She looked at me squarely. “Is your wife going to divorce you, Jim?”
Strangely enough, I didn’t think of Carol. I thought of young Jim and Sue. I said, “I hope not. Not if I can prevent it.”
“All right then, where does that leave us?”
“Friends, I’d hoped.”
She shook her head. “More than that, you expected. And had reason to, I’ll admit. But there’s nothing for us, any more, nothing but trouble. Take me home.”
I took her home. She sat huddled in the far corner of the front seat, a small and moody bundle of silence.
When I stopped in front of her house, she had the door on her side open before I could open mine. She said, “Good-bye, Jim,” and went hurrying up the slope to her front door without looking around.
Well, good-bye, Lynn…. Which left me where? A waiting motel room and the memories of a bad day. I went to Heeney’s.
Heeney was back behind the bar. He kept his head low, supposedly washing glasses as I came in. I had a feeling he didn’t want to look at me.
The Paiges and Jackie were drinking beer in the corner booth and I went over to join them.
“Where’s Lynn?” Jackie asked.
“Home. She isn’t feeling well.” I slid in next to Jackie.
“Neither is flyboy,” Jackie said. “The gang is disintegrating. No stamina, that’s all.”
Both the Paiges looked pained. Joe said, “The funeral is tomorrow, Jim. Are you going?”
“I hadn’t thought of it. I — really didn’t know Tom very well.”
“I wish you’d come to the funeral,” Janis said. “I don’t think there will be many there.”
“I’ll come,” I said. The waitress came over and I ordered a bourbon and water.
Joe’s voice was quiet. “Is Lynn taking this pretty hard?”
“I didn’t think so, until this evening. She was awfully moody tonight, unreasonably so.”
“She’s a moody girl,” Janis said. “But we understand her.”
“She’s a fine and sensitive girl, Jim,” Joe said.
I nodded. The waitress brought my drink, and asked, “Separate check?”
Jackie said, “No, put it on mine and then give the whole check to him. I’m running short.”
I smiled and nodded and the waitress sniffed and went away.
Janis said, “I think it’s just perversity that makes us hang around here. We’re not over-welcome; that’s for sure.”
Jackie said, “Nobody’s twisting our arms; let’s go some place else.” She looked at the Paiges. “Let’s go and cheer up Lynn.”
“I don’t think that would be wise,” I said. “There’s still time to see the last show at the Wilshire, though. Be my guests.”
The Paiges looked doubtful, and Janis said, “Not tonight, Jim. But thanks.” She looked at Joe. “Home?”
“Home,” he said.
They slid out and went over to the bar to pay their check.
Jackie looked at me and smiled. “You may go, if you want. I’ve really enough money to pay my own check.”
“I’m in no hurry,” I said, “to get back to that motel room.”
“Motel …?” Her eyes searched my face. “Are you — I mean, did you …? You know what I mean.”
“I left home,” I said. “I hope it’s temporary.”
She shook her head. “One party — and a lifetime hangover. Do you love your wife, Jim?”
“Let’s talk about you,” I said. “You and flyboy.”
She shook her head again. “Let’s not. It’s a painful subject.” She gestured expansively toward the ceiling. “There’s something about the air up there that makes them hard to chain. This freedom gets too important to the flyboys.”
“You want to chain him, Jackie?”
“I don’t really want to limit him. I just want to be Mrs. Tex Newman.” She wasn’t smiling now.
“That’s limiting him.”
For the third time, she shook her head. “In name only. My trouble is that I can’t say no to him, so why should he marry me?”
I didn’t pursue that line. I asked, “And how about Miss Lynn Bedloe? Would she like to be married, too?”
“I think she would. Will you call the waitress? My glass is empty.”
I called the waitress and ordered another pair of drinks. When the waitress went away, I said, “If you and Lynn were married, the whole gang would be married, wouldn’t they? That ought to settle you.”
“I doubt it. Most of them are married now. But none of them have any kids. It’s kids that settle you, Jim. I told Tex we wouldn’t have to have any kids.”
“What did he think of that?”
“Not much. What’s that waitress doing, stamping out the grain?”
“Easy, Jackie. Slow up. Tell me, do you know Rita Edlinger?”
She nodded. “But I might be prejudiced about her. Remember, I’m from Texas, from a border town.”
“Prejudiced …? Because she’s Spanish, you mean?”
Jackie smiled. “All right, she’s Spanish, if she wants it that way. Well, here comes slew-foot now.”
The waitress set our drinks in front of us and picked up the empty glasses. She didn’t look at either of us.
The waitress wasn’t out of hearing when Jackie said, “What’s that hunk of henna got, that she’s so superior? You’d think we had leprosy.”
“Maybe she i
sn’t Spanish,” I said.
Jackie’s smile was tight. “Let’s not fight, Gulliver. We’re both in a foul mood, so let’s both be careful.”
I asked, “Tex is from Texas, too, is he?”
“Yup. And any time he wants me to go home and be a hippy Houston matron as Mrs. Newman, I’m ready.”
I sipped my drink, saying nothing.
Jackie asked quietly, “Who’s your favorite, Jim? Who do you think is the murderer?”
“I’ve no favorites. I’ve no idea.”
“Do you want to know who mine is?”
I stared at her and nodded.
“Heeney,” she said. “He hates us all, and Tom had a bar bill he was never going to pay.”
“That’s silly, Jackie. First of all, Heeney’s no killer, and secondly, Tom had plenty of money, I understand.”
“Not any folding money. Real estate he might have had; I don’t know about that. But he was mighty short on pocket money.”
Weariness went over me in a wave. I said, “Forget it, Jackie. I’m bushed. I think I’ll go home. Can I drop you off?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got my car. I think I’ll hang around a while. Maybe somebody will drop in.”
“Somebody like Tex?”
“Go, Gulliver, you’re getting irksome. Go home and dream of Iowa.”
I didn’t go home; I went to the motel. Somebody had a radio playing in the next room, and under the soft music I could hear the clink of ice in glasses. We had some motel mortgages and I’d seen some motel books. It was amazing how many people one room would serve in one night, two at a time. I saw the books they showed to their creditors, not to the Internal Revenue boys.
The traffic on Wilshire was quieter. I turned on the TV and watched a fight from the Olympic and then switched to some movies of the Ram-Detroit game.
I love the Rams. For college football, I am still a Big Ten fan, but I love the Rams. Tonight, I couldn’t get interested.
This was all temporary; Carol would come to her senses eventually. She had to; there was no alternative I could accept. And Dyke would find his killer and Lynn would find a job and Max would lick the Colonel without losing us our business. And Jackie would get her Tex and have a dozen kids. And Rita would remarry.
Oh, yes, and Tom Edlinger would be reborn. Oh, yes, of course …
Square in the Middle Page 9