Memories of Another Day (31 page)

Standing in the sleet, he stared down at her. *'What the hell are you doing here?"

''Get in the car," she said. ''It's stupid to stand there in the snow."

He threw his valise into the car and followed it. The door closed and the car began to roll. He turned to her. "You're supposed to be in Chicago."

"I was getting bored there," she said. She leaned over and kissed him. "Surprised?"

"How'd you get here? You weren't on the train."

"Plane," she said. "There's regular service now between Chicago and the East."

"Drop me at the Chelsea," he said. "I've got to get some sleep."

"I have a suite at the Mayfair," she said. "You're staying with me."

"I said I've got to get some sleep."

"You have a two-day train ride tomorrow. You can catch up on your sleep then."

He was silent. "You're crazy. You know that, don't you?"

"I'm in love with you. You know that, don't you?"

"Look, Chris, it was great. But it's no good chasing it. We live in different places. There's no way we can ever get it together."

"I can live in your world. I don't need the family's money."

He looked at her. "What about this car and the Mayfair?"

"We can leave the car, take a taxi and go to the Chelsea. I don't care. As long as I'm with you."

He shook his head slowly. "You shouldn't have come. If your uncle finds out about it, he'll raise holy hell."

"I don't give a damn about what Uncle Tom thinks. Let him run his steel companies. He's not going to tell me what to do."

The car pulled up in front of the hotel. A doorman

opened the door. He reached in and took Daniel's valise, then stood there while they got out of the car.

"Send the bag up to my apartment," Chris said.

''Yes, Miss Girdler," the doorman answered.

Daniel followed her into the hotel. They took the elevator up to the fifteenth floor. She pressed the doorbell. A butler opened it. ''Miss Girdler." He bowed.

'They're sending a valise up," Chris said. "Put it in the guest room."

"Yes, Miss Girdler,"

"And I'll have a dry martini." She looked at Daniel. "The usual?"

He nodded.

'' A bottle of bourbon for Mr. Huggms.''

"Yes, Miss Girdler." The butler bowed.

"Thank you, Quincy," she said, leading the way into the living room. She gestured Daniel to a seat on the couch. "Make yourself comfortable. We'll have some lunch in a little while."

Daniel looked around the hotel suite. He had been in many hotels, but he had never seen a setup like this. It was like a private house right in the middle of the hotel. "Not bad," he said.

"It's Uncle Tom's," she said. "He keeps this apartment all year round."

"Of course," Daniel said. "It's the only way."

"He says it's cheaper to do that than to try to get a good suite each time."

"Economical too," he said. "I didn't think he paid attention to things like that."

"You're being sarcastic," she said.

He feigned innocence. "Of course not. It's just in keeping with his character. After all, his average steel-mill worker makes less than five hundred and sixty dollars a year for a sixty-hour week. This can't be much more than that. Per day."

"Now you're not being pleasant," she said.

The butler brought them the drinks on a silver tray

and placed it on a coffee table in front of the couch. ''May I pour, sir?"

"FU take care of it," Daniel said.

'Thank you, sir," the butler said, and left the room.

Daniel filled his glass. He held it up toward the girl, "I apologize. I have no right to talk Uke that about the man and drink his whiskey at the same time."

"And don't forget one other thing." She grinned.

"What's that?" he asked.

"And also fucking his favorite niece."

He laughed and tossed the drink down his throat. "You've made your point."

She drank her martini in one swallow. He saw the flush rise into her face as the drink went down and began to pour himself another drink. She put out a hand to stop him. "My cunt is soaking. How about a fuck before lunch?"

"Mind if I take a shower first? I stink from sittmg up in that train all night."

"Don't," she said. "I love the smell of the sweat that comes from your balls."

That night when they went to bed she reached for him. He was flaccid. After a moment: ''What is it? Usually you're hard as a rock."

He couldn't tell her that she didn't excite him. "I'm tired. I've spent five weeks working day and night, and the train trip didn't help. The only thing I could get was a coach seat all the way from Chicago."

''It has to be more than that. I don't excite you the way I look."

"That's not it," he said. "Besides, I'm afraid to hurt you. It could do something to the baby."

"The doctor said we could go right up to the last month," she said, still stroking him.

He forced himself to feel the touch of her fingers. One thing she could do was manipulate him. She was expert at that. The sensuous stroking of his cock and cupping of his testicles. He felt himself growing hard.

After a while he tried to mount her. But the position was too awkward because of the size of her belly. Finally she rolled over on her side and he took her from the rear. She began to moan and climax almost immediately, but he couldn't feel her at all. It was as if he were putting his prick into a giant barrel filled with warm oil. There was no way he could reach a climax, but he kept driving until she climaxed herself into exhaustion, panting heavily like a bitch running in heat.

She turned to face him and kissed him. "You don't know how much I needed you. No one ever could do it for me the way you do."

He didn't speak.

"Was it all right for you?" she asked anxiously. "I didn't feel you come."

"How could you?" he lied. "You were so busy coming yourself you wouldn't have felt anything if the roof fell in."

"I love you," she said, and was asleep almost before the words were out of her mouth.

The next day he went to the doctor's office with her. The doctor came out of the examining room while she was dressing. "Mr. Huggins?"

Daniel got to his feet. "Yes?"

"There's nothing to be alarmed about," the doctor said. "But there is a strong possibility the baby might be breeched."

Daniel stared at him. "Exactly what does that mean. Doctor?"

"If it proves out, we may have to take the baby via a Caesarian section," the doctor said. "But that's nothing to be alarmed about. We do operations like that every day."

"If there's nothing to be alarmed about, why do you keep telling me that?" Daniel asked.

The doctor smiled. "We find that prospective fathers need a lot of reassurance too."

"I'm reassured," Daniel said. "You mentioned that it was a possibility. When will you know for sure?"

The doctor assumed a pontifical air. "We have a problem. Your wife is much too heavy. I'm placing her on a strict diet. From now until the baby is bom, she must lose weight—or at least, not gain any more. You'll have to see that she sticks to the diet."

Daniel didn't answer. There was no way he could do that from the other side of the country. He nodded.

"Another thing," the doctor said. "And again, I must repeat that there is nothing to be alarmed about, but I notice that Mrs. Huggins has developed a mild coronary fibrillation. That is, a heart flutter. It could be a result of the excess weight she is carrying, and I think it might correct itself if she loses the weight I ask."

"She still has another two months to go?" Daniel asked.

"Roughly," the doctor said. "My guess is six, seven weeks. By then we will know the exact condition of the child and prepare to do whatever is neces-

sary. If the baby is in a difficult breech position, I would prefer to take the child before she enters labor."

'' Six weeks?" Daniel said.

The doctor nodded. "I would prefer that. But please feel reassured. There's nothing to be alarmed about. The baby is fine, and your wife is in generally good health. There should be no problem whatever happens."

Daniel looked at him and nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."

The doctor went back into the examining room, and a few minutes later Tess came out. "What did he say?" she asked.

"He said there was nothing to be alarmed about. You were in good shape. You just have to lose some weight, that's all."

That had been almost two months ago, and now the train was pulling into Lx)s Angeles. He got to his feet as the trainman came through the aisle. "Los Angeles. Last stop. Everybody off."

He took his valise from the overhead rack and went out on the platform and was off the train almost before it came to a stop. He had asked Tess to wait for him at home; he didn't want her caught in the press of the railroad station. He walked rapidly through the terminal to the cab rank. Once in the cab, after giving the driver his address, he leaned his head back against the seat wearily.

"Coming in from the East?" the driver asked.

"Yes," he answered.

"New York?"

"No, Pittsburgh."

"Lot of snow back there?"

"Some."

"Can't beat the weather here," the driver said. "Nothing but sunshine. Best weather in the world, I always say."

Daniel didn't answer. He closed his eyes. Suddenly

he was very tired. No way for him to come home. He straightened up and tapped the driver on the shoulder. ''Stop at the first liquor store.''

When he came out of the store, the small bottle of bourbon in his pocket, he saw the flower shop next door. He picked out a large bouquet of roses, then got into the car and pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth. He finished the half-pint of whiskey, and by the time the taxi pulled up in front of the house, he didn't feel tired anymore.

*'You've changed," Tess said as he sat down at the dinner table. ''When I talk to you, you don't even seem to be listenin'."

''I have things on my mind," he said. "Murray's going to call a strike, and I think we're all going to wind up in the outhouse."

'That's goin' to be bad for you?" she asked, taking his steak from the grill and placing it in front of him.

"It's not going to do anybody any good." He cut into the steak and tasted it. It was medium rare and juicy, just the way he liked it. He smiled up at her. "Nothin' beats home cookin'."

She was pleased. "How about home fiickin'?" she laughed.

He looked at her swollen belly. "Let you know just as soon as you're back in business," he teased.

"Won't be long," she said. "Doctor said mebbejust a few weeks after the baby." She sat down opposite him and began to eat her own steak, helping herself generously to the gravy-covered mashed potatoes.

He watched her. "How about your diet?"

"I had to go off it. I was gettin' too nervous," she said. "Besides, some of my friends said that doctors are always after women to lose weight just to make their own work easier, not because it does any real good."

He didn't answer.

**You lost weight," she said.

'Tve been moving around a lot," he said.

"It would be nice if you could find work closer to home," she said. ''A man called Browne has been calling you. He says he's with the movie union, the LA. something. He wants you to call him."

"He leave a number?"

"I have it written down. Mebbe he wants to give you a job."

"Maybe."

"That would be good," she said. "Then you wouldn't have to go back."

"I have to go back," he said. "I gave Murray my word."

"But if you're gonna lose, what difference does it make?"

"I still gave my word." He looked at her. "Besides, even if George Browne offered me a job, I wouldn't take it. He's nothing but a cheap crook, taking orders from the mob. There's a guy named WiUie Bioff who's the real boss, and he gets instructions straight from Chicago."

She stared at him. "If that's true, why don't they do something about it?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But it's none of my business anyway. It's an A.F.L. union. It's up to them to police their own locals and affiliates. There has been some talk at C.I.O. headquarters about coming in and challenging them, but we have enough on our plate right now. Maybe later, when some of our own things are cleared up, we'll try to do something about it."

"You should talk to him anyway," she said. "Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

"I'll call him," he said.

She picked up the empty plates and put them in the sink. "I have apple pie and ice cream for dessert."

'Til pass," he said. 'Tm stuffed.''

* Til just take a small piece," she said. **I never feel satisfied unless I have somethin' sweet after eatin'. Coffee?"

He nodded. He waited until she put the cup of coffee in front of him. "What time is the doctor's appointment for tomorrow?"

"Ten o'clock," she said.

He got out of his chair and went over to the sideboard and poured himself a shot glass of whiskey. He brought it back to the table.

"You ought to cut down on your drinking," she said. "It's bad for your liver."

"I feel okay," he said. He swallowed the drink, then sat there with his coffee while she finished her dessert. "Mind if I turn in early? I'm beat from the trip."

"You go right ahead," she said. "I'll clean up, mebbe listen to the radio a little. Rudy Vallee Hour is on tonight, an' the Lux Theatre. Then I'll come to bed."

"Okay," he said. He went into the bedroom and began to undress. He folded his pants neatly over the back of a chair and placed his shirt over it. He placed his wristwatch and money on the dresser next to the vase of roses that he had brought home. In the dim light of the room the roses were a soft dark red, and their faint perfume hung in the air. He sat on the edge of the bed and unlaced his shoes and pulled off his socks. Then, still in his underwear, he stretched out on the bed.

Slowly he let his eyes wander around the room. She was right. But it wasn't only he who had changed. Everything had changed. Or maybe it hadn't. Right from the beginning she had never pretended to understand what he was doing. And she still didn't.