Their conversation finally terminated and Harry drifted among the others, feeling a little heady and superior, and had a feeling that he was just a little taller (in some cases much
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taller) than the others. He also felt suave and enjoyed shaking his glass and hearing the ice cubes tinkle.
He walked up to the Davises, pulling his shoulders back just a bit more as he approached them, and looked at her intently as Mark introduced him. Honey, this is Harry White. Harry, my wife Terry.
Hi, its a pleasure.
Hi, Mark has mentioned you often.
O, he has has he, looking at him and smiling, then looking back at her, nothing good, I hope. Mark has mentioned you, too, but he never said that you were so beautiful, Terry blushing slightly. Mark, you old devil, no wonder I havent met her before. If I were married to you, looking at her intently again, I/d be afraid to let you out of the house, his face opening up into a friendly smile, Marks a lucky man, and Harry continued to look at her for another second or two, feeling a slight twinge inside and wanting to follow where it would lead him, but others came and joined them and so he drifted away with a feeling of relief.
Eventually he came across Linda sitting with Rae and Louise. Three lovely young ladies all alone, this is my lucky day.
Join us?
Thanks, Louise.
So listen to Sir Finklestein. You think Im going to believe your looking at these ancient ruins when such a beautiful girl like Linda is here?
Everyone laughed as Rae looked at them with a huge impish grin. They joked and laughed until it was time to eat, then got up and followed the others into the main dining room.
Harry was once again conscious of Lindas presence, and as they walked to the dining room he could feel the way her thin dress clung to her body. They sat near each other at one of the long banquet tables, Rae and Louise on one side and Harry and Linda across from them. He was still aware of it as they sat at the table, her bare arm just a few inches away from him.
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The friendly chitchat, and Raes humor, prevented Harry from becoming completely, and exclusively, preoccupied with Linda, though even with the joking and laughter, he was constantly aware of her presence and a feeling that was new and vague, that seemed to come from her. He felt attracted to her, yet, at this particular moment, there was no knot of anxiety in his gut or tightness of apprehension. He gave fleeting moments of thought to this feeling, but the closest he could come to defining it, in any way, was simply to be aware of the absence of certain feelings he usually had. For the most part he simply tried to enjoy what was happening (or wasnt happening) as they proceeded from soup to the dessert, which Rae kept claiming she was not going to eat, then started nibbling at with looks and sighs of approval. Youre going to hate yourself in the morning. O Harry, youre awful.
So whats so bad? I wont get on the scale for a few days and I/ll think thin.
They continued chuckling until Mr. Wentworth stood, tapped on his glass for a moment and asked for everyones attention. The room became silent and everyone turned toward Mr. Wentworth. Thank you. He looked around the room for a moment, a large smile on his face. I trust you all enjoyed the dinner—there were bursts of verbal approval and applause— and, Mr. Wentworths smile broadened, the relaxing cocktail hour—more applause, laughter and the energetic nodding of heads. Mr. Wentworth was silent for a moment as he looked around the room. Now you will get the tab. . . . Im going to make a speech—there was a splattering of applause and a self-conscious silence for a moment, and Mr. Wentworth chuckled and waved his hands. No, no, please dont worry. I would not ruin a good meal like that—more chuckling and laughter. All Im going to do is introduce our president, Clarke Simmons, turning toward him and extending his hand, then applauding as the others joined him.
Clarke Simmons stood and listened to and acknowledged the applause for a moment, smiling broadly, then raised his
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hands for silence. Thank you, thank you very much. It is indeed a pleasure to be with you on this festive occasion. And like my good friend Walter, looking toward Wentworth, I do not want to ruin a good meal with unnecessary words. He smiled and was silent until the chuckling died down. However, I do want to thank each and every one of you for being faithful employees and the type of individuals who meet their responsibilities with enthusiasm and energy and who helped make this the best year in the firms fifteen-year history. And in keeping with that tradition and the growth that it has fostered, I want to make a brief announcement about a new position that that growth has made possible and necessary... and to introduce the gentleman who will be our new, and first, junior vice-president—Louise and Rae quickly looked at Harry with large congratulatory smiles on their faces, and Louise started to reach for Harrys hand but he quickly lifted it off the table to scratch the back of his neck. I must confess that this bright young man has not as yet been advised of his change of status, and so it will come as a surprise to him and his lovely wife too. Ladies and gentlemen, I want to introduce our junior vice-president, Mark Davis—ooos and ahhhs and Mark Davis looking around surprised, happy, startled, smiling, and his wife bouncing up and down in her chair, clapping her hands vigorously and screeching hurray and pushing her husband toward President Simmons as those nearby shook Marks hand and patted him on the back as he hesitatingly moved forward and grasped the outstretched hands of Clarke Simmons and Walter Wentworth, and some of the people started chanting, speech, speech and others joined the chant as Mark Davis stood between Wentworth and Simmons, each with an arm around the new junior vice-president's shoulder, and a few flashbulbs popped as pictures were taken for trade publications, and eventually the applause and chanting for a speech died down so Mark Davis could speak, and Louise and Rae looked at Harry with frowns and disbelief and questioning expressions and Harry fought like a sonofabitch to keep a goddamn smile on his face and shrug away the tacit questions
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and accusations of Louise and Rae and not let his skin crack open from the heat that seemed to be pounding through him and the nausea that was suddenly twisting his gut and constricting his throat, and Wentworth and Simmons sat there with those grins on their faces as that jerk Davis made some kind of dumb remarks about how happy he was and how he would try to live up to the responsibility of his position—new position, jerk—and he had to thank his wonderful wife for all the help she/d been and for making it possible for him to do the kind of job that got him this—and he continued to thank people with a bunch of meaningless tripe, the gutless wonder, and he finally sat down and everyone clapped like a bunch of mentally retarded seals, and Harry could feel Louises and Raes eyes burning into him like two mothers who had just been told that their son was a mass murderer, and he had to stand in front of them and open the zipper on his chest and let everyone look inside of him and see the ugliness and rottenness that was hidden there and was slowly festering and explain himself and why he was sitting there while that ass-kissing Davis was taking all the bows and his fishmonger of a wife was screeching and hanging from his neck like a syphilitic albatross as if that dumb sonofabitch had actually done something to be proud of when he was lucky if he could brush his teeth and comb his hair without getting the comb and brush confused, and Harry was grinding his teeth as he smiled, gently, at Rae and Louise, and felt as if his legs were going to run away from his body and he shrugged again and wanted to laugh but was afraid he would puke all over the table and he tried to force an attitude of nonchalance and let his two surrogate mothers know that he could have had the job, but turned it down as it might interfere with his future, but he couldnt say it, but only imply it, because he couldnt let the word get around, but anyway it was no big deal and there are bigger things ahead and Davis needs it with all those people he has to feed, the poor sucker, and thats the real reason they gave it to him anyway, and anyway, who gives a damn about the whole damn thing, and the muscles in Harrys
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shoulders and the back of hi
s neck felt like they were about to snap and the pain became so intense that Harry thought he would either faint or jump up on the table and scream, and the goddamn smile seemed to be cemented on his face and Louise and Rae didnt seem to be talking to him and there was a slow awareness of something new happening, something in addition to the renewal of the voices chatting and chuckling and laughing, and out of the corner of his eye he became aware of movement and then the sound of music, dance music, and he blinked his eyes a few times and it seemed to crack the cement slightly and slow down his heart just enough so that it wasnt pounding in his ears, and then he heard a semblance of words as Rae told him to get up and dance already, what are you, some kind of schlemiel, youre just going to sit there like that? And he heard Linda laugh and felt himself rising on legs that were weak from painful muscular spasms, and tears came to his eyes as he stood and tried to walk and he blinked away the tears rapidly and chuckled as he stumbled, hoping to hell that his legs wouldnt collapse, and he supported himself by leaning on the backs of those sitting as he worked his way to the dance floor and gropingly led Linda in among those stumbling around the dance floor, allowing himself to fall against whoever was near until his legs finally started to strengthen and he could stand and move without fear of falling, but fortunately the dance floor was too crowded for that and it was a simple matter to bounce off other couples until he could stand, without aid, on his own two feet, and it was as if an endless wind had slowly seeped from inside him, cracking away the cement that had been holding him, and his smile, in place, and he pulled Linda closer to him and put his cheek against her ear and felt the softness of her dress against him and the heat of his breath as it filtered through her hair back into his face.
What were all those looks about before? What looks?
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What looks? Rae and Louise looked at you as if something weird was happening and they expected you to explain it— Linda laughed, or as Rae would say, explain me?
Harry was regaining his composure as they lost themselves among the dancers, feeling anonymous and inconspicuous, and his face fell into his relaxed smile. Who knows? Whatever it is, its not worth talking about now. Lets just enjoy dancing. Linda smiled and tilted her head in a shrug, and Harry pulled her back to him and they continued to dance.
When they got back to the table, some of the people had already left and they decided to have another cup of coffee before leaving, Linda having accepted Harrys invitation to have him drive her home.
When they drove past the gatehouse, through the huge stone columns and past the iron-grill-work gate, then turned onto the narrow road leading to the highway, Linda looked through the rear window at the darkened and shadowed grounds, and the dotted lights of a few cars as they moved along the narrow road toward the gate. A turn suddenly removed the grounds from view, but Linda continued to feel the pool, the sunken garden and sloping green ground and trees, and the sun and laughter. She smiled as she turned around and sort of wiggled into her seat. Louise and Rae certainly are nice ladies. I dont think I have ever laughed so much in my life. She looked at the silhouetted trees and the bright moon and stars. Gee, its a beautiful sky. The moons almost as bright as the sun, but the sky is softer now. Like velvet. She settled deeper into her seat and sighed softly. Sort of a perfect day. I really had a marvelous time. I guess it would be almost impossible not to have a good time there, its such a beautiful place. Linda chuckled, I didnt realize it, but I was born for country club living . . . gracious living as they say. Dont you agree Harry? Dont you think its a beautiful place?
Yeah, but its all over till next year. In no time we/ll be back in the stink and sweat of the city.
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Linda chuckled and looked up at the velvet soft sky as Harry felt the telegraph poles chopping by. That may be, but it certainly is beautiful right now.
Linda turned on the radio and tuned in a quiet-music station and nestled into her seat and the warmth of her feelings, her gentle smile and attitude remaining as the trees turned into distant smoke stacks and cluttered buildings. Harry anticipated bumps in the road and fumes from the smokless stacks. I suppose Davis will have to move to the suburbs now that hes a big man. Some elegant cardboard box in Levittown— no, no in Jersey. Yeah, some anthill in Jersey.
What? Linda became aware of Harrys voice, but the bitterness had not as yet registered. She was still feeling the gardens and the sun and the laughter.
You know, when you have a high class title like junior veepee, you have to live in the suburbs. Linda looked at him, her smile still on her face, and blinked a few times. I mean, after all, a junior anything cant afford Central Park West. And anyway, its no good to get that close to Park Avenue, you might get some stupid ideas. Of course theres Connecticut, but the carfare would put him in the poorhouse. No, its got to be Jersey. In some miserable tract where everything freezes in the winter and they have a two-man volunteer fire department. And they can sit around and bullshit about the house theyll have some day with a lawn with automatic sprinklers and an azalea bush next to the front door.
What in the world are you talking about? chuckling and shaking her head.
What? Our new giant of industry. Our vice-prezeeeedent. That worldbeater, Davis.
O. You really had me confused. I had no idea—
Did you hear that speech he made? Jesus, what a bunch of bullshit.
I didnt notice anything wrong, peering at Harry and frowning.
Are you kidding? Krist, he sounded like he had just been given the Nobel prize, or at least the Man of the Year award:
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and I want to thank my sweet wife, who has stood by me (while I kissed ass) and has always encouraged me and given me—achh, what a bunch of shit.
Youre serious, arent you?
What do you mean?
I mean youre really upset by his promotion. Youre really angry.
About his promotion? No. Who needs it? Thats not it at all. Its just all the fuss over nothing and that dumb broad of a wife of his getting up there and squealing like a stuffed pig—
My God, you really are angry. I think youre jealous.
Are you kidding? turning his head to look at her, his grip tightening on the wheel, jealous of him? O, you have to be kidding. Ive got more going for me in my little finger, sticking it up in the air, than he has in that empty head of his. And I sure as hell wouldnt want to wake up in the same bed with that wife of his. Jesus, what a dumb broad.
I thought she looked very sweet, looking at Harry earnestly, very petite and pretty.
Yeah? Well, better him than me, shaking his head, and junior veepee sure isnt anything to write home about.
Me thinks the lady doth protest too much, looking at Harrys face in the blinking light from the street lamps. Youre the one whose making a big thing out of nothing, Harry.
He looked at her face for a moment. She was obviously relaxed and sincere. She wasnt putting him on. Listen, let me tell you something. If I wanted to be some kind of flunky junior veepee, I could get it in my sleep. Davis may be a nice guy and all that, but hes a simple-minded shit, his voice becoming louder and more intense, and anything that dumb bastard can do I can do a thousand times better with a finger up my ass whistling Dixie, and if you think Im just going to be some kind of schlunk while that ass-kissing sonofabitch gets somewhere, youve got another guess coming and youd better hang around and see whats going to happen because Im going to be long gone while hes still a junior vice stuck in some
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crummy shack in the Jersey swamp somewhere and— Harry breathed deeply and clutched the steering wheel and blinked his eyes rapidly for a moment. The rage in his voice was obvious to him now and it scared him. And, too, he could sense the pettiness of what he was saying and he was starting to cringe, inwardly, from embarrassment. Ah screw it. Its not worth getting bugged about. He clamped his mouth shut, then pushed in the cigarette lighter. When it popped out, Linda held it while he lit his cigarette. He nodded and mumbled a tha
nks, still fighting the embarrassment twinging inside him, worrying and wondering what Linda was thinking, afraid to look over and try to determine by her expression what was going on in her mind.
Linda stretched out and turned her ear to the soft music coming from the radio, a satisfied smile once more softening her face. Long before Harry started his tirade, or before they had even started the drive home, a part of her had reviewed the day and decided that it was a good day, a day to be enjoyed and that nothing could ruin it ... or anyone either. She had listened more with curiosity than real interest and had no intention of going to the trouble of remembering what had been said, but was content to allow it to drift away with the scenery and the passing of time.
The radio suddenly went dead as they entered the Lincoln Tunnel, and Harry tried, desperately, to join Lindas light chitchat, but found conversation almost impossible and was aware of the sweat dribbling down his sides, and he cursed the guy in front of him under his breath for not moving faster so they could get out of the tunnel and she could go back to listening to the radio.
When they finally left the tunnel and merged into the New York traffic, Harry started to feel a little better. But the closer they got to Lindas place, the more apprehensive he became. He just did not feel like sitting around and bullshitting with some broad and he knew he didnt feel like putting the make on her, and all they would do would be to sit around and
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talk about the day and how nice it was and all that sort of shit and jesus krist he sure as hell wasnt in any mood for that.
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