Ten North Frederick (65 page)

“Well, think about it, Kate, because I'll be back to find out what you've thought.”

“I know you will. Oh, I know that.”

“I'm way past where I ever thought I'd be again, and if it isn't you, it'll never be anybody. Good night, dear Kate.”

“Good night,” she said, and went inside.

Joe got in the taxi. “Yale Club, please.”

“Fifty Vanderbilt. Fif-fty Vandabilt Avenya. You know I was thinkin' if the City of New York wunda save the taxpayers about two million dollars a year, what they oughta do is . . .”

 • • • 

In a month Joe went to New York again when he knew Ann would be in Bermuda. He telephoned Kate from Gibbsville so that she would be free, and he appeared at the apartment at seven o'clock in the evening. “Let's have an evening before we get down to cases,” he said. “This time I
have
the theatre tickets.”

They again dined at “
21
” and were at the theatre in time, but as they were getting up to go out for a smoke after the first act Kate said: “Let's take our things and not come back.”

She asked him to take her to the apartment, and they rode in silence after she said: “What was the use? I wasn't paying any attention to the play. I didn't eat my dinner.”

At the apartment she said: “Will you fix me a weak Scotch and soda and I'll be back in a minute.”

She returned and lit a cigarette and took up her drink, then put it down again. She sat in a corner of the sofa and began making circles with the ember of her cigarette in the cloisonné ash tray on the end table.

“I've done a lot of thinking. A lot. But I couldn't do it all alone. I had to have you to help me,” she said.

“Yes,” he said.

“I couldn't live with Ann any more. I'd have to find another apartment.”

“Yes, that's true.”

“And you know what else, too. That's where we'd always have to see each other. We couldn't go out together any more. Your wife and Ann and Joby would know right away, and my family'd find out too.” She took a quick look at him and then looked away. “I'm by nature a faithful person. That means that it wouldn't be long before I didn't even see anyone else. I'd really be alone except for when you could come to New York. And how often would that be? Once a month at the most. But I've taken the first step.”

“You have?”

“I've broken off with the man that I've been having an affair with. I
am
by nature a faithful person. I had to stop seeing him the day after you and I went out together. And please don't say I shouldn't have. It was my decision.”

“That's what I
was
going to say,” said Joe.

“Marriage would be out of the question for you and me, even if you asked me, which hasn't entered into the discussion. But I'm not in a hurry to get married. Nobody's come along that made me want to be married to him for the rest of my life, and when I get married that's what I want it to be. And so—that's how it is with me. I've said just about everything, not much for a month of thinking, but I guess I'm a plodding thinker. In any case, that's my side of it, and I thought I ought to tell you. Oh—and needless to say—I wouldn't be saying any of this if I didn't
want
to be your mistress.”

He sat with his elbows on his knees and his finger tips at his temples, and for a long time he did not speak. At last he spoke and softly: “This is something that I could easily have lived all my life for. I'll tell you now, Kate, that I love you as I've never loved anyone else. As surely, and deeply, and completely, and happily—never like this, never anyone. When it happens, you know. You're sure. And the millions of men it never happens to, and the millions of
women
. But it happened to me.

“And now I'll tell you what I was going to tell you, and why I wanted to have an evening together.

“Everything you've told me, I knew. Except, of course, your breaking off with the other gentleman. But I realized two weeks ago, three weeks ago, maybe four—I knew you'd have to take another apartment, and all the rest of it. Seeing me every month or two. Hiding from people. Never going out. Kate, my dearest Kate—what do you think I was going to tell you?”

“You have to tell me,” said Kate.

“Two things. I
was
going to ask you to marry me, although I know better than you do the objections to that. And since I knew what you'd say—I was going to tell you to stop thinking and to stop worrying. You can't be my mistress. You alone in an apartment, waiting till I came to New York, and then hiding from people while I was in New York? Would I let you do that?”

“No, I don't think you would. But I'm willing.”

“I said to you the night we went out, when I was saying good night to you, I told you I was past the point with you where I ever thought I'd be with anyone again. Well, that was only my way of saying that I was already in love with you. But now that I've actually told you I love you, I can add something. I can add that I always will love you, and that I'll always feel that you loved me.”

“And I do,” said Kate. “I wasn't going to say it. But I do.”

“Will you marry me?”

“No,” said Kate.

“Why?”

“Because my marrying you would be just as bad as your making me your mistress. It would do almost the very same things to your life. Cutting you off from your friends. You'd be embarrassed when you saw my father. You'd worry about what Ann was thinking. You'd be conscious of the difference in age between you and my friends. Even now, on account of Ann, I can't quite make myself call you Joe.”

He smiled. “I noticed that.”

“I was afraid you had.”

“Then it's settled, and I'm not unhappy, Kate. I can't tell you how un-unhappy I am. The fact that you love me and that I love you. I want you to let me give you a wonderful present. I don't know what. But something exquisite and extravagant. Will you let me?”

“Yes.”

“A ruby. Would you like a ruby?”

“Yes.”

He stood up. “Now I think I'll leave you,” he said.

“No,” she said. “You're not going to leave me tonight.”

“I'm not?”

“I want you to remember all your life that I meant it when I said I love you. You'll have to leave me tomorrow, but tonight I want you to stay, just as though I were your mistress or married to you. We'll make love and sleep together, and we'll always have it.”

In the morning when she awoke he was leaning on his elbow, smiling down at her. “It's morning, Kate,” he said. “Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning, Joe,” she said. “What time of morning?”

“About twenty of eight,” he said.

“Naked as the day we were born. Isn't it nice?”

“Yes.”

She reached out and folded up the traveling clock on the night table. “Turning off time,” she said. “Let's ignore it.”

“All right,” he said.

“I want you,” she said.

“You're going to have me,” he said.

“Not just right away, very sensually, darling. Very sensually and nicely. And sleepily. Are you wide awake?”

“Yes.”

“Isn't it wonderful? I'm not. But I know what's going on, sweet. Oh, do I ever?”

That day they had lunch together at one of the hotels where they were not likely to encounter anyone who had seen them the night before. At the coffee Joe said: “I know the moment you leave me the sadness will begin. But I've been putting it off, and I haven't really been thinking all day.”

“No, neither have I.”

“Kate! In a few minutes—do you realize? It'll all be over?”

“Yes, I realize. But we've got to stick to it.”

“That's why it's going to be so sad, because right now I feel as though my full life had just begun.”

“Don't think of it as beginning or ending. Think of last night as a separate part of your life. That's what I'm going to do. You know, that song that Grace Moore sings, ‘One Night of Love.'”

“Tonight I'll be in Gibbsville, going from the station to my house. And I'll know every face I see, and the houses I've passed a thousand times. I know which sidewalks are brick and which ones are concrete. Everything the same as when I left there yesterday morning. But I won't be the same. Practically nobody in the town will know I've been away, and won't know I've come back to what? To nothing. To everything that's away from you, Kate. To nothing. To death. To the end of life. To death. To life away from you.”

“Oh, Joe, I know. Please.”

“Then I'm coming back tomorrow, Kate.”

“No, please. Everything we said last night is true, all the things we thought out.”

“They've stopped being true, Kate.”

“No, they haven't. They're
worse
true. More true and worse true.”

“No, you're wrong.”

“I won't be here. I'm going away.”

“Where?”

“I won't tell you, but I'm going. And I won't tell Ann where I'm going. It's the only solution.”

“Wait till tomorrow, Kate. I'll have my talk with my wife when I get home tonight.”

“By that time I'll be gone. I mean it, Joe. I'll be far away.”

“You'd really go away, Kate?”

“I'm going. Please believe me. Please impress it on your mind. I'm going, and I don't know when I'll be back. So don't say anything to your wife, don't do anything that will make your life different.”

“That's already happened.”

“But I mean your life in Gibbsville. Your home, your law practice. Joe, you decided everything that I decided, we decided the same things, and then I weakened because I love you. But everything we said was true. And I take that back. I didn't weaken. I wanted you, and I love you, but everything else is wrong for us. So don't say anything to your wife, because if you do you won't change a thing. You'll only make things worse for us and for goodness knows how many other people. Please see that. Do you love me?”

“Oh, Kate.”

“And I love you. I love you just as much as though we were both going to be killed today. Love me that way, Joe. As far as love is concerned, it'll never change. But the other things won't change either.”

“Waiter, will you bring me the bill, please?” said Joe.

“My dearest,” said Kate.

“You're right,” said Joe. “But you don't have to go away, Kate.”

“Yes, I'm going.”

“But don't go because you want to run away from me. I give you my word of honor, I'll stay away, I'll stay out of your life.”

“I want to go away.”

“Yes, I'm beginning to see that, too. Yes, I guess you have to go.” He looked at the check and put down a fifty-dollar bill. “You may keep the change.”

“Twelve-forty, gentleman. This is a fifty, gentleman. Keep the change?”

“I want to make somebody happy,” said Joe.

“Merci, m'sieur, and much happiness to you, sir, and mademoiselle. Thank you.”

The waiter stood away from the table. “The waiter now thinks that the middle-aged gentleman has persuaded the beautiful young lady—well, we know what he thinks,” said Joe.

“The unhappy young lady thinks that the middle-aged gentleman will be with her till the day she dies, in her heart.”

“The unhappy middle-aged gentleman loves you, Kate, and is grateful to you for being all that you are. I have a soul now, and I never believed in it before. But I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I want you to go home now, and start packing, and I know you'll cry when you get home, but Jesus, we'll always have this, won't we?”

She suddenly kissed him and walked away from him fast, much faster than he could have walked even if he had tried to pursue her.

 • • • 

It was late evening in the den at
10
North Frederick Street and Edith sat looking at her husband while he spoke of this and that in New York.

“Did you get a chance to stop in at Lord & Taylor's?” said Edith.

“No, I'm sorry I didn't.”

“Oh?”

“I'm sorry, but a lot of things went wrong. I didn't get downtown till this afternoon.”

“Downtown?” said Edith.

“Yes. Wall Street. Where did you think I meant?”

“I didn't know whether downtown meant downtown from the Seventies or the Sixties or what.”

“Downtown in New York always means the financial district. Wall Street. Broad Street. Cedar. So forth.”

“Well, since I hate New York I never have learned much about it. How did you come home? By way of Philadelphia?”

“No. Reading. I was downtown, more convenient to go over to Jersey City.”

“Did you see Dave?”

“For a few minutes. And Alec. I got everything done that I wanted to do, but I'm sorry about Lord & Taylor's.”

“Where did you spend the night?”

“Yale Club. I might as well get something out of my membership.”

“No, Joe. You registered at the Yale Club, but that isn't where you spent the night.”

“Oh, didn't I? I thought I did.”

“Well, you didn't.”

“Well, if you're so positive, I guess I stayed at the Harvard Club by mistake,” said Joe.

“I'd believe you if you told me you were with Alec Weeks. He's always been that kind. Is that where you were?”

“I saw Alec this afternoon.”

“Were you with him last night?”

“Don't you think you ought to swear me before asking a lot of these questions? I declare, I feel as though I were on the stand. What's got into you?”

“Were you with Alec last night?”

“Now look here, Edith, let's have a little common politeness. Have I ever said to you, ‘Edith, what did you do while I was in Philadelphia, while I was in New York?' Have I?”