Wheels (18 page)

"We have smaller sizes, madam
.”

"No . . . Well, you see, it's a gift. I suppose I
ought . . . But I'll
wait and think it over
.”

As the woman left the counter, so did the perfume salesclerk, She moved
through an archway, momentarily out of sight. On the counter, the boxed
perfume remained where the clerk had left it.
Irrationally, incredib
ly, in Erica's mind a message f
o
rm
ed: Norell's
my perfume. Why not take it?
She hesitated, shocked at her own impulse. While she did, a second
message urged: Go on
!
You're wasting time! Act now
!
Afterward, she remembered that she waited long enough to wonder: Was it
really her own mind at work? Then deliberately, unhurriedly, but as if
a magnetic force were in control, Erica moved from Cosmetics to
Perfume. Without haste or waste motion, she lifted the package, opened
her handbag and dropped it in. The handbag had a spring fastener which
snapped as it closed. The sound seemed to Erica like the firing of a
gun. It would draw attention
!
What had she done?
She stood trembling, waiting, afraid to move, expecting an accusing
voice, a hand on
her shoulder, a shouted "Thief !
"
Nothing happened. But it would; she knew it would, at any moment.
How could she expla
in
? She couldn't. Not with the evidence in her
handbag. She reasoned urgently: Should she take the package out, return
it to where it was before the foolish, unbelievable impulse swept over
her and made her act as she had? She had never done this before, never,
nor anything remotely like it.
Still trembling, conscious of her own heartbeat, Erica asked herself:
Why? What reason was there, if any, for what she had just done? The most
absurd thing was, she didn’
t need to steal
the perfume or anything else.
There was money in her purse, a checkbook.
Even now she could call the salesclerk to the counter, could spill out
money to pay for the package, and that would be that. Providing that she
acted quickly. Now!
No.
Obviously, because still nothing had happened, no one had seen her. If
they had, Erica thought, by now she would have been accosted,
questioned, perhaps taken away. She turned. Casually, feigning
indifference, she surveyed the store in all directions. Business was
going on as usual. No one seemed in the least interested in her, or was
even looking her way. The perfume salesclerk had not reappeared.
Unhurriedly, as before, Erica moved back to Cosmetics.
She reminded herself: she had wanted some perfume anyway. The way she
had got it had been foolish and dangerous and she would never, ever, do
the same thing again. But she had it now, and what was done was done.
Trying to undo it would create difficulties, require explanations,
perhaps followed by accusation, all of which were best avoided.
A salesclerk at Cosmetics was free. With her
most engaging smile and manner Erica asked to try some orange lipstick
shades.
One danger, she knew, still remained: the clerk at the perfume counter.
Would the girl miss the package she had put down? If so, would she
remember that Erica had been close by? Erica's instinct was to leave,
to hurry from the store, but reason warned her: she would be less
conspicuous where she was. She deliberately dawdled over the lipstick
choice.
Another customer had stopped at Perfumes. The salesclerk returned,
acknowledged the newcomer, then, as if remembering, looked at the
counter where the Norell package had been left. The salesgirl seemed
surprised. She turned quickly, inspecting the stock shelf from where she
had taken the package to begin with. Several others were on the shelf;
some, the ounce-size Norell. Erica sensed the girl's uncertainty: Had
she put the package back or not?
Erica, being careful not to watch directly, heard the customer who had
just arrived ask a question. The perfume clerk responded, but seemed
worried and was looking around her. Erica felt herself inspected. As she
did, she smiled at the cosmetics clerk and told her, "I'll take this
one
.”

Erica sensed the inspection by the other salesclerk finish.
Nothing had happened. The salesgirl was probably more worried about her
own carelessness, and what might happen to her as a result of it, than
anything else. As Erica paid for the lipstick, opening her handbag only
a little to extract a billfold, she relaxed.
Before leaving, with a sense of mischief, she even stopped at the
perfume counter to try a sample of Norell.
Only when Erica was nearing the store's outer door did her nervousness
return. It became terror as she realized: She might have been seen after all, then watched
and allowed to get this far so that the store would have a stronger case
against her. She seemed to remember reading somewhere that that kind of
thing happened. The parking mall, visible outside, seemed a waiting,
friendly haven-near, yet still far away.
"Good afternoon, madam
.”

From nowhere, it seemed to Erica, a man had
appeared beside her. He was middle-aged, graying, and had a fixed smile
revealing prominent front teeth.
Erica froze. Her heart seemed to stop. So after all . . .
'Was everything satisfactory, madam
.”

Her mouth was dry. "Yes . . . yes, thank
YOU
.”

Deferentially, the man held a door open. "Good day
.”

Then, relief flooding through her, she was in the open air. Outside.
Driving away, at first, she had a let-down feeling. Now that she knew
how unnecessary all the worrying had been, that there was nothing
whatever she need have become concerned about, her fears while in the
store seemed foolishly excessive. She still wondered, though: What had
made her do it?
Suddenly, her mood became buoyant; she felt better than she had in
weeks. Erica7s bu
oyancy persisted through the af
ternoon and carried over while
she prepared dinner for Adam and herself. No carelessness in the kitchen
tonight
!
She had chosen Fondue Bourguignonne as the main course, partly because
it was one of Adam's favorites, but mostly because the idea of them
eating together out of the same fondue pot suggested an intimacy which
she hoped would continue through the evening. In the dining room, Erica planned her table
setting carefully. She chose yellow taper candles in spiral silver holders,
the candles flanking an arrangement of chrysanthemums. She had bought the
flowers on the way home, and now put those left over in the living room so
that Adam would see them when he came in. The house gleamed, as it always
did after a day's sprucing by Mrs. Gooch. About an hour before Adam was due,
Erica lit a log fire.
Unfortunately, Adam was late, which was not unusual; what was unusual was
his failure to telephone to let Erica know. When 7:30 came and went, then
7:45 and eight o'clock, she became increasingly restless, going frequently
to a front window which overlooked the driveway, then rechecking the
dining room, after that the kitchen where she opened the refrigerator to
satisfy herself that the salad greens, prepared over an hour ago, had
retained their crispness. The beef tenderloin for the fondue, which Erica
had cut into bite
-
size pieces earlier, as well as condiments and sauces
already in serving dishes were in there too. When Adam did arrive, it
would take only minutes to have dinner ready.
She had already replenished the living-room. fire a couple of times, so
that now the living and dining rooms, which opened into each other, were
excessively hot. Erica opened a window, allowing cold air to blow in,
which in turn made the fire smoke, so she closed the window, then wondered
about
the wine-a '61 Cha
teau Latour, one of a few special bottles they had
squirreled away
which she had opened at six o'clock, expecting to serve it
at half-past seven. Now Erica took the wine back to the kitchen and
re
-
corked it.
Returning, with everything completed, she switched on a stereo tape
player. A cassette was

already inserted; the last bars of a recording finished, another began.
It was Bahama Islands
, a song she loved, which her f
ather used to strum
on his guitar while Erica sang. But tonight the sof t calypso melody made
her sad and homesick. Gentle breezes swirl the shifting strand, Clear blue waters lap this
fragrant land; Fair Bahamas!
Sweet Bahamas I Sun and sand. Arc of islands, set in shining seas, White sand beaches rim these
sun-kissed cays; Island living, Island loving, Sand and trees. Bright hibiscus line the path to shore, Coral grottos grace the ocean
floor
.
Nature's treasure, Life's sweet pleasure, Evermore. She snapped the machine off, leaving the song unfinished, and dabbed
quickly at sudden tears before they spoiled what little make-up she was
wearing.
At five past eight the telephone rang and Erica hurried to it expectantly.
It was not Adam, as she hoped, but long distance for "Mr. Trenton," and
during the exchange with the operator, Erica realized that the caller was
Adam's sister, Teresa, in Pasadena, California. When the West Coast
operator asked, 'Will you speak with anyone else
.”

, Teresa, who must have
been aware that her sister-in-law was on the line, hesitated,
then said, "No, I need Mr. Trenton. Please leave a message for him to
call
.”

Erica was irritated by Teresa's parsimony in not letting the call go
through; tonight she would have welcomed a conversation. Erica was aware
that since Teresa became a widow a year ago, with four children to take
care of, she needed to watch finances, but certainly not to the point
of worrying about the cost of a long-distance phone call.
She made a note for Adam, with the Pasadena operator's number, so he
could return the call later.
Then, at twenty past eight, Adam called on Citizens Band radio from his
car to say he was on the Southfield Freeway, en route home. It meant he
was fifteen minutes away. By mutual arrangement Erica always had a
Citizens receiver in the kitchen switched to standby during early
evening, and if Adam called it was usually to include a code phrase
"activate olive
.”

He used it now, which meant he would be ready for a
martini as soon as he came in. Relieved, and glad she had not chosen the
kind of dinner which the long delay would have spoiled, Erica put two
martini glasses into the kitchen freezer and began mixing the drinks.
There was still time to hurry to the bedroom, check her hair, freshen
lipstick, and renew her perfume-the perfume. A full-length mirror told
her that the Paisley lounging pajamas which she had chosen as carefully
as everything else, looked as good as earlier. When she heard Adam's key
in the lock, Erica ran downstairs, irrationally nervous as a young
bride.
He came in apologetically. "Sorry about the time
.”

As usual, Adam appeared fresh, unrumpled, and clear-eyed, as if ready
to begin a day's work
instead of having just completed one. Lately, though, Erica had detected
a tension at times beneath the outward view; she wasn't sure about it now.
"It doesn't matter
.”

She dismissed the lateness as she kissed him,
knowing that the worst thing she could do was to be Hausfrau-ish about
the delayed dinner. Adam returned the kiss absently, then insisted on
explaining what had delayed him while she poured their martinis in the
living room.
"Elroy and I were with Hub. Hub was firing broadsides. It wasn't the
best time to break off and phone
.”