arm. “We’re both going places in this outfit, boy.”
I told him I hoped so and watched his broad back as he went off toward the festivities. It was obvious that he had just enough quasi-feminine perception to sense that Nancy had somehow acquired an ally; how much else she might have in me he couldn’t tell. He wanted to pour a little water on the flame. Deciding that wouldn’t do, he had built a back fire. I cannot say that it was ineffective—mellow words from the boss are always welcome. And he was almost a nice guy.
Between eleven and twelve the party was in overdrive. Every time I saw Mary she was with Dodd. A junior miss who took considerable pride in the gaudy details ofthe recent escapade that had gotten her tossed out of Sweet Briar on her pretty tail, had taken me over and kept bruising my morale by frequent references to how much “older men” appealed to her.
She steered me, not too unwillingly, out into the darkness. But when I came to kiss her she sagged softly against me, a boneless, gasping, wide-mouthed horror. I have no idea where and how such a response happened to become fashionable among the younger set. Maybe they think it sets a mood of sweet surrender. You reach for a firm-boned young morsel and she falls into suet. I pushed her away and eased her back into the bright lights.
After the first cut-in I moved back out into the shrubbery alone. The clouds had thinned and a moon cruised blandly through the ragged edges. Music thudded out across the somber fairways. I fingered an empty cigarette package and remembered the half carton in the glove compartment. I walked across the grass toward the parking lot.
I was close enough to the car to touch it when I heard Mary Olan’s voice coming from inside the car. Her tone was lazy, taunting. “My dear, you aren’t on the basis where all you have to do is whistle. So I won’t take your key. Any time I go back there—if I ever do go back there—you’ll damn well be there waiting for me, not I for you. This isn’t Back Street, sweets.”
Dodd’s heavy voice said, “This double-dating is childish.”
“Is it? I know what you want. You want me waiting there for you any time you happen to take a notion. You don’t want me to go out at all. I happen to like this arrangement. Clint is sweet. Wasn’t he sweet with your plotzed Nancy?”
“Are you falling for him? Damn it, if I find out you’ve let him get to you, I’ll get him shipped so far away from here he’ll …”
“Jealous, darling?” she drawled.
“Why don’t you just take the key and then …”
“You want one cake to eat, one to look at and one in the cupboard. No thanks. I might decide never to pay you another visit there.”
“Mary, listen to me …”
“You listen to me. You’re boring me. That wasn’t in the agreement. I’ll continue to go out with Clint. You’ll continue to come along too, with Nancy. It’s a cozy arrangement.… And I’m getting sick of sitting here like a college girl on a date.”
“But tonight Clint took her home and we could …”
“We could but we won’t, dear. Not tonight. Face it like a brave little man.”
I had stood there and listened. And learned a great deal. It was a situation that smelled faintly of mental illness.
“But Mary …”
“And, darling, I didn’t like that phrase ‘get to me.’ People don’t ‘get to me.’ I get to people. Now if you’d take that slightly clumsy hand off my breast …”
I moved back fast as the door latch clicked. She got out of the car quickly. She’d have seen me if she’d turned my way, but she headed off, heels punching the gravel, toward the front door of the club. I was back in better cover when Dodd got out and lighted a cigarette. I watched him take three long draws, then snap it away toward the wet grass. He followed her slowly. When I got my cigarettes the interior of the car was heavy with the perfume she used, a musky, offbeat scent.
When I drove them home
I told him I hoped so and watched his broad back as he went off toward the festivities. It was obvious that he had just enough quasi-feminine perception to sense that Nancy had somehow acquired an ally; how much else she might have in me he couldn’t tell. He wanted to pour a little water on the flame. Deciding that wouldn’t do, he had built a back fire. I cannot say that it was ineffective—mellow words from the boss are always welcome. And he was almost a nice guy.
Between eleven and twelve the party was in overdrive. Every time I saw Mary she was with Dodd. A junior miss who took considerable pride in the gaudy details ofthe recent escapade that had gotten her tossed out of Sweet Briar on her pretty tail, had taken me over and kept bruising my morale by frequent references to how much “older men” appealed to her.
She steered me, not too unwillingly, out into the darkness. But when I came to kiss her she sagged softly against me, a boneless, gasping, wide-mouthed horror. I have no idea where and how such a response happened to become fashionable among the younger set. Maybe they think it sets a mood of sweet surrender. You reach for a firm-boned young morsel and she falls into suet. I pushed her away and eased her back into the bright lights.
After the first cut-in I moved back out into the shrubbery alone. The clouds had thinned and a moon cruised blandly through the ragged edges. Music thudded out across the somber fairways. I fingered an empty cigarette package and remembered the half carton in the glove compartment. I walked across the grass toward the parking lot.
I was close enough to the car to touch it when I heard Mary Olan’s voice coming from inside the car. Her tone was lazy, taunting. “My dear, you aren’t on the basis where all you have to do is whistle. So I won’t take your key. Any time I go back there—if I ever do go back there—you’ll damn well be there waiting for me, not I for you. This isn’t Back Street, sweets.”
Dodd’s heavy voice said, “This double-dating is childish.”
“Is it? I know what you want. You want me waiting there for you any time you happen to take a notion. You don’t want me to go out at all. I happen to like this arrangement. Clint is sweet. Wasn’t he sweet with your plotzed Nancy?”
“Are you falling for him? Damn it, if I find out you’ve let him get to you, I’ll get him shipped so far away from here he’ll …”
“Jealous, darling?” she drawled.
“Why don’t you just take the key and then …”
“You want one cake to eat, one to look at and one in the cupboard. No thanks. I might decide never to pay you another visit there.”
“Mary, listen to me …”
“You listen to me. You’re boring me. That wasn’t in the agreement. I’ll continue to go out with Clint. You’ll continue to come along too, with Nancy. It’s a cozy arrangement.… And I’m getting sick of sitting here like a college girl on a date.”
“But tonight Clint took her home and we could …”
“We could but we won’t, dear. Not tonight. Face it like a brave little man.”
I had stood there and listened. And learned a great deal. It was a situation that smelled faintly of mental illness.
“But Mary …”
“And, darling, I didn’t like that phrase ‘get to me.’ People don’t ‘get to me.’ I get to people. Now if you’d take that slightly clumsy hand off my breast …”
I moved back fast as the door latch clicked. She got out of the car quickly. She’d have seen me if she’d turned my way, but she headed off, heels punching the gravel, toward the front door of the club. I was back in better cover when Dodd got out and lighted a cigarette. I watched him take three long draws, then snap it away toward the wet grass. He followed her slowly. When I got my cigarettes the interior of the car was heavy with the perfume she used, a musky, offbeat scent.
When I drove them home
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