Boys & Girls Together (62 page)

No more than an hour after Mr. Fiske left, Archie Wesker called her on the phone. He sounded more than a little drunk and Jenny listened as he apologized for propositioning her that afternoon and then proceeded to proposition her again, this time for later in the evening. That’s very funny, Jenny thought, but instead of smiling she simply handed out a flat “no” and hung up, grabbing a pencil and paper, commencing a letter to Tommy Alden. She wrote for over an hour, six full pages and she was in the middle of the seventh when she abruptly tore it all up. Because it was all his fault, Tommy’s. Everything was. Who needed a Rhodes scholarship anyway? Why couldn’t he have just turned the silly thing down? Jenny went on like that a while before she realized how funny it was, the way she was thinking. But again she didn’t smile. She got through the night alive, remarkable, considering the heat, and the first thing the next morning she dressed and subwayed down to Korvette’s and bought an air-conditioner. She was writing out the check when she remembered that her building wasn’t wired for air-conditioning. That was funny too, only the Korvette’s man didn’t think so.

The rest of the weekend was like that: funny.

Monday morning, she called up Kingsway to quit her job. It was hot and she felt very tired, groggy almost, and she misdialed twice before finally making connections. “Kingsway,” the operator said.

“Hello. This is Miss Devers.”

“Yes, Miss Devers.”

“I won’t be in today.”

“You’re ill?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be in tomorrow, do you think?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. If I feel all right.”

“Thank you. Goodbye, Miss Devers.”

Jenny hung up and fell into bed. She lay still, breathing deeply, her right hand roaming the sheet, trying to find a cool spot. I would really like to sleep, Jenny thought. More than almost anything. She closed her eyes. I feel much better, she thought, now that I’ve quit my job. Except I didn’t really quit. Tomorrow. I’ll quit tomorrow if it rains. I would like that. Some nice cool rain. And sleep. Nice cool sleep. I’m really tired too. Sometimes when you’re really tired, you can’t sleep. You’re so tired you’re too tired. I wonder if I’m too tired to sleep? “Miss Devers. Miss Devers!” Jenny heard the voice and was at first angry because it was the super come to ask something except that when she heard the voice again, “Miss Devers!
Jenny!
” she decided it couldn’t be the super because he never called her by her first name, and even though, as she said “Who is it?” she knew who it was, she said it.

“Who is it?”

“Charley.”

“Charley?” Jenny sat up and shook her head. It was cool in the room. She grabbed her old bathrobe and tied it tight and went to the door. “Charley? “she said again.

“Yes.”

“Oh,
Charley
.” Jenny rubbed her eyes. “I’ve been asleep,” she muttered.

“May I come in?”

“Sure.” She opened the door and looked at him. He was carrying a raincoat and a hat and a large briefcase. “What time is it?” Jenny said.

“Five.”

“In the afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Five Monday afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Well, fancy that. I’ve slept the day away.”

“May I sit down?”

“I’m not awake yet. Would you like some coffee?”

“Thank you, no.”

“I’d like some coffee.” She hurried to the tiny kitchen. “Oh, wonderful,” she said as she lifted the coffeepot. “There’s some old.” Jenny turned the heat up full and when the coffee boiled over she poured herself a cup. “I always do that when I wake up,” she said, coming back to the other room. “Boil it over. Terrible. Sure you won’t change your mind?”

“Thank you, no.”

“Did it rain?”

“Earlier, yes.”

“Thank heavens; it’s cooler.”

“Yes.”

Jenny took a small sip. “I don’t think I can drink this stuff. It’s like solid oil.” She laughed. “Except oil’s a liquid. But you know what I mean.”

“Go put some water on your face,” Charley said.

“Why?”

“Just go do it.”

Jenny went to the sink. “Any particular part of my face?”

Charley said nothing.

Jenny came back and sat down. “All wet,” she said. “So?”

“You weren’t sick today, were you?”

“Yes, I was.”

“You didn’t come to work because you didn’t want to see me.”

“That’s not true. I like you. You’re a very nice man, Mr. Fiske.”

“I’ve been terribly upset. All day. Just as soon as I got word you weren’t coming in. I decided then I had to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“Because I felt what we said might be of an intimate nature.”

Jenny broke out laughing.

Charley waited till she was done.

“I’m sorry,” Jenny said then. “ ‘Intimate nature’ struck me funny.”

“I don’t pretend to be good at this; I admit to a certain lack of agility.”

“I’m going to laugh again if you keep talking like that.”

“I become overly formal under certain conditions. I’m sorry.”

Jenny shrugged.

“At any rate, I want to tell you something.”

“What?”

Charley hesitated. Then: “That you may return to work secure in the knowledge that there will be no repetition of Friday’s actions.”

“Friday’s actions? What happened Friday?”

“Jenny—”

“You’re married, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Kids?”

“One.”

“Happy home life in the suburbs. Right?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“How embarrassing it must be for you. Coming here. A solid citizen like you. A den of iniquity like this.”

“There’s no reason for us to fight. We both did something. We’re neither particularly proud of it. I’m sure we’re equally sorry.”

“
I’m sorrier!
You had the kid to play with this weekend. You had the wife to hold your hand. Let me tell you something about Friday’s actions. I regret Friday’s actions so much ... so much ...”

“I didn’t mean to upset you like this.”

“What did you think, coming here?”

“You won’t be at work anymore, will you?”

“That’s right.”

“I bungled this whole thing. I’m sorry, Jenny.”

“Now you’re going, I suppose.”

“Would I make things any better if I stayed?”

“I don’t see how.”

“Neither do I. Goodbye, Jenny.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” he said again and she watched as he grabbed his raincoat and hat and hurried out the door and was gone. He left the door partially open and for a moment Jenny thought he was coming back, back on the run, to take her in his great arms, but then she realized that he was not returning, wasn’t about to return, and she wondered why she wanted him to. For she did. That much was sure. She stood slowly, shook her head, took a deep breath. The apartment was cool and that should have made her feel better but it didn’t. She was alone. Alone and lonely in a cool place, and that was better than being alone and lonely someplace hot, but it still wasn’t enough to warrant a hooray. Jenny started trudging toward the door, thinking that she must absolutely do something cheerful tonight. Like go to a play and sit in the orchestra or take in a foreign film. It was Monday, so getting a good seat wouldn’t be hard. Yes, she thought, I must do that. And I won’t cook myself dinner, either. I’ll eat out. I’ll eat out and I’ll go to the theater and if I have to walk more than half a block I’ll take a taxi. For a moment she contemplated hiring a limousine for the evening, hiring it and just telling the chauffeur to drive, and her sitting back on the soft cushions looking out at all the people, but she killed her contemplation because it was so silly and because as she was almost to the door she saw his briefcase standing by the chair where he must have forgotten it, and when she saw it she said “He forgot his briefcase” right out loud, and then she said “Charley” right out loud and she started running to the door but as she reached it he was already there and he said “I forgot my—” but that was all, because she cut him off with “Thank God,” and then she was in his arms, his great arms, and he said “Thank God,” and then they were saying it more or less together, eyes closed, in blind unison, “Thank God, thank God, thank God, thank God, thank God.”

“I tell you,” Archie Wesker said as he paced around Charley’s office, “she’s putting out for somebody.”

Charley looked at him. “What makes you think so?”

“Think? Goddammit, I can tell. A girl starts putting out, old Arch, he knows. Just look at her. Talk to her. She’s acting different than a week ago.”

“Different from.”

“From, then, dammit, Charley, somebody’s scoring with that broad and it’s
not me.
”

“So?”

“So? Have you taken a look at her?
Zoftig
.”

“How’s Mrs. Wesker?”

“Mrs. Wesker is built like Marjorie Main, thank you.”

“She is not.”

“Have you seen her naked? I’ve seen her naked. The female frame loses its elasticity after three kids, believe me.”

“You were cheating before you had any kids.”

“Come on, Charley, what do you want to say a thing like that for?”

“It’s true.”

“I know it’s true; so what? Don’t make me out immoral, Charley. I want to be one of the good guys.”

“No, you don’t. That’s what I like about you: you’re an honest lecher.”

“The basis of our entire relationship, Charley, is that we look down on each other. You’ve got a great marriage, and I don’t, so you feel sorry for me, but actually all the time I’m feeling sorry for you. Let me tell you my philosophy.”

“Don’t tell me. Write it down. No kidding, Archie. You write it and I’ll edit it and it’ll be the biggest children’s book since
Horton Hatches the Egg
.”

Archie laughed. “Score one for you.”

The intercom sounded. “Yes, Miss Devers,” Charley said.

“Ready for that dictation now.”

“Fine,” Charley said.

Archie started for the door. “What’s all this ‘Miss Devers’ crap? She’s your secretary.”

“If you think I’m about to call her ‘Jenny’ with a suspicious mind like yours around, you’re crazy.”

Archie shook his head. “I do not consider you a suspect, I promise you.” Jenny knocked and entered. Archie looked at her. “How do you do, Miss Devers.”

“How do you do, Mr. Wesker.”

“She hates me,” Archie whispered, and he closed the door.

“He’s right,” Jenny whispered when it was safe.

“You shouldn’t.”

“I don’t, not really. I just wish you didn’t like him.”

“I guess I wish I didn’t too, but I do. What’s the dictation?”

“You haven’t asked me where I’ve been?”

“All right; where have you been?”

“The lounge. Beautifying myself. Combing my hair. But more important, taking off my lipstick.”

“Jenny, this is a busy office and it’s three o’clock in the afternoon—”

“Put a piece of paper on your desk. Do as I say.”

Charley put a piece of paper on his desk.

“Now point to it.”

Charley pointed.

“Now I can’t tell what the paper says from here, don’t you see, so I’ll have to walk around the desk until I’m right next to you.” When she was next to him she said, “Then I’ll bend down to see better and—”

Charley kissed her. He rose out of the chair and his arms went around her and he shoved his body tight against her.

Jenny broke free.

Charley stood very still.

She moved around the desk away from him and sat down uncertainly.

“Now will you please keep away from me? While we’re here? Please?”

“I’m sorry. But I didn’t intend for quite
that
. Your lips were just supposed to graze mine—that’s how they tell it in novels. ‘His lips grazed hers.’ ”

“Just stay away from me. We could have been caught then. Archie might—”

“That’s part of the fun of an affair,” Jenny said. “I’ve been reading about them this past week and it seems a great part of the fun is in almost getting caught. At least in the beginning it is.”

“Don’t call it an affair. It’s barely a week—”

“You’re right, but I don’t know what else to call it.”

“We’re confused about each other. How’s that?”

“Wonderful. And we’re having a confusion.”

“A confusion.” Charley nodded. “Fine with me. Now what’s this dictation?”

“You have that important letter to write, remember? To that nice Devers girl. About dinner. I’ll read you what I thought might be a nice opening: ‘Dear Miss Devers, let me begin by saying that our conference of last evening has lingered in my mind. You have a mighty brain and touching it gives me more pleasure than you will ever know. Consequently, I thought we might pick up this evening where we left off. I thought we might even go to that same restaurant—the one that seems like a tiny apartment over on the West Side. The food and the decor aren’t much but you couldn’t ask for greater seclusion.’ I thought you might take it from there, Mr. Fiske.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Miss Devers will understand.”

“Miss Devers thought you were joining her for dinner. She may not understand at all.”

“ ‘My darling Miss Devers: I must send my regrets for this evening. A certain lady of my acquaintance—’ ”

“You said you thought you could get home late again.”

“ ‘I do not feel it wise to arouse the least curiosity in this certain lady, and therefore I feel our conference had best be put off till later in the week.’ ”

“You said you thought you could get home late again. You said that, Charley.”

“I know. I changed my mind.”

Jenny stood up.

“You look very pretty, Jenny.”

“Thank you.” She started for the door, stopped, started talking, her back to him. “I’m sorry, I’m not ordinarily like this—possessive—I’m sorry. You’ve got to realize something, though.”

“What?”

“I care for you, Charley.” She turned and gave a little smile. “But then, I guess I have to.”

“I have seen happier smiles.”

“The thing is, Charley, when everything goes right, that’s fine; but when everything doesn’t, then I have to ask myself what I’m doing. I don’t much like asking myself what I’m doing.”

“I banished that question from my vocabulary recently. I suggest you do the same.”