by Oakley Hall
“Good move,” Arch said. “Who’s the girl?” He was sitting stiffly in a straight chair, with his arms folded and his legs crossed.
“Gene Geary,” Jack said. “She works down at the H. and G. office.”
“Did you ask her yet?” Marian said. She peeled two onions and began slicing them into the pan with the potatoes. Her eyes were watering and she brushed a strand of hair back from her forehead. “Did you ask her yet, Jack?”
“Yeah, she’s thinking it over.”
“Well, don’t worry about it,” Arch said. “They always do that.” Marian made a face at him when he came out into the kitchen to get the bottle.
“I wondered if Arch would mind being best man,” Jack said in an embarrassed voice. “See, I haven’t been here very long and…”
“Of course he wouldn’t mind. He’d be happy to. Am I invited too, Jack?”
“Sure. Well…I don’t know if she’s going to or not.”
“Of course she will,” Marian said. “A big good-looking boy like you.” It was hot in front of the stove, her face was hot, and she felt a little tight.
“When’ll it be?” she heard Arch say.
“Right away, I guess.”
“What’s she like, Jack?” Marian called.
“Oh, she’s little. She’s got brown hair.”
Marian wondered if this girl were a virgin; probably not. None of these girls were nowadays. Probably Jack had attended to that already. She felt a sudden, jealous dislike for this girl, and she stepped to the door to watch Jack, who was moving his glass from side to side, studying the flat tilt of the liquor. She saw that Arch was drinking with great ceremony, and she knew he was a little tight too.
Jack raised his head and grinned at her. “Smells good,” he said.
“It’ll be ready in a minute,” Marian said, and then she said, “So you’re going to get married.”
Jack grinned again and looked down at his glass. Arch started to tell the story about how he and his best man had both dropped the ring at their wedding, and Marian picked up an overloaded ashtray and took it back to the kitchen.
Jack helped her to her chair when she called them to the table, and she thanked him and looked reprovingly at Arch. But Arch was shaking his head and blinking his eyes, and she smiled. She saw that they were waiting for her and she picked up her fork.
“Is your girl pretty?” she said to Jack.
“Sure, she’s pretty,” Arch said. “I’ve seen her down at the office. She’s a good-looking girl. Jack’s lucky to get her.”
“Well, it’s about time you got married. Arch and me were married when we were twenty. Fifteen years now.”
“How about eating, hon?” Arch said.
Marian didn’t pay any attention to him. “How is it you never got married before this?” she asked. “Now, don’t try and tell me you never went in for girls much.”
“Jack’s played it smart, that’s all,” Arch said.
“Now you stop those snotty cracks, Arch Huber!”
“I just never got around to it,” Jack said.
“Well, I think those girls up in Bakersfield missed a good thing. The girls in Glenwood wouldn’t’ve let you get away this long. Would they, Arch?”
“How about eating?” Arch said.
Jack didn’t say anything, rubbing his hand over his chin. His slanting yellow eyes were narrowed and insolent. Marian felt herself grow a little more sober, and she frowned and looked at Arch, who was cutting his steak. “Eat your steaks now,” she said. “Before they get cold.”
When Jack was gone Arch unfolded the couch, got the bedclothes from the closet and made it up, while Marian stacked the dishes. When they were undressed and in bed he set the alarm, kissed her, sighed and turned away, drawing his knees up toward his chest as he always did. Marian slid her arm under his neck so she could jiggle him if he tried to go to sleep.
“He’s a nice boy, Arch,” she said. “Don’t you think so? Is he a good cat skinner?”
“Yeah, he’s all right.”
“He’s terribly attractive.”
Arch grunted.
Marian giggled and worked her arm up and down under his neck. “He’s got that something women like,” she said. “Those eyes and those big shoulders and those little-bitty hips, and when he looks at you sometimes you know you ought to slap him but you don’t really want to.”
Arch grunted disgustedly.
“I wonder why he hasn’t got married till now, Arch?”
“If they all feel about him the way you do, he didn’t ever need to.”
She punched him in the ribs and jerked her arm up and down. Arch turned over quickly, pushed her arm away and began tickling her. She giggled, finally gasping for breath. “Stop!” she gasped. “You stop it, Arch Huber!” He stopped, turned over again and hunched up his shoulder when she tried to get her arm back under his neck.
“Great,” he said. “You’re ready to run off with the first good-looking skinner comes along. After fifteen years.”
“Oh, Arch!” she said, thinking about Jack Ward. She wondered what he was like, but then Arch started to breathe regularly and she punched him in the ribs again.
“Go to sleep,” he said. “Sleep now.”
She smiled at the back of his head. She loved him, and though he never said so anymore, she knew how much he loved her; he would be lost and helpless as a child without her. She supposed some people might think they weren’t much, but they were happy, and they couldn’t get along without each other. She supposed their life was nothing very special, but it was the way they wanted it, and she doubted if there were many who could say as much. They both knew what they were, and, content with that, didn’t pretend to be anything else. She smiled at the back of Arch’s head. “Arch,” she said. “Remember that time we were coming back from Rosarita Beach?”
He chuckled sleepily.
“Remember, Arch?”
He put his hand around and patted her hip. She smiled at the back of his head and ran her hand over his thinning hair.
“Come on, Marian,” he said. “I’ve got to get to sleep. I’ll be knocking grade stakes all over hell tomorrow.”
He never did seem to know, and she could never bring herself to ask him. She sighed and said, “Arch, is this girl nice?”
“Sure, she’s nice. Sleep! Sleep now!”
“Does she have any other boy friends?”
“She used to go around with Charley Long, I think.”
“Who’s Charley Long? Do I know him?”
“Surveyor boss.”
“Is he attractive?”
“He’s three foot tall and he’s got four arms and only one leg and a glass eye and a purple goatee and a dose and…”
Marian punched him in the ribs. “I asked you a civil question.”
“Oh, hell, damn it. He’s a pretty good-looking guy about our age. He’s got a good job and he makes a lot of money. Okay?”
“But he’s not as attractive as Jack, is he?”
“Christ, I don’t know, hon. Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!”
She snuggled up close to him. “I hope he’s marrying the right kind of girl, Arch. It would be too bad if he didn’t; if she can’t handle him right. You’ve really got to know, with…”
“Gene’s okay,” he interrupted. “She’s all right. For God’s sake, let’s go to sleep, Marian. I’ve got to get up at six!”
She didn’t say anything more, smiling at the back of his head in the pale light that came through the window from the street lamp on the corner. She yawned, pushing down on her thighs with her hands and stretching her shoulders deliciously. Already Arch was asleep and he would be snoring soon. She pressed herself against his back, curving her body and legs to fit his.
3
Throughout the wedding, which was at Gene’s mother’s house, Marian studied Gene carefully. She was always a little jealous of anyone younger than herself, and she was sure these girls of Gene’s age had been around much more than she had whe
n she had been married. Gene looked nice enough; but girls always did at their weddings. She had no striking features, dark hair and eyes, an animated way of speaking, but a suggestion of a pinched, nervous look around the eyes. Her figure was all right, Marian thought, although a little flat-chested and a little narrow across the hips.
Marian and Arch, the Tullys and Smitty, the grade foreman, left as soon as Jack and Gene had driven off in Jack’s Mercury. After half-promising to come over to the Tullys’, Arch and Marian walked on down the street to where Marian had parked the Studebaker.
“Well, nobody sure paid any attention to us,” Marian said. “I wasn’t going to go thank that Mrs. Geary. I certainly don’t think much of her.”
“I guess she was just as embarrassed with us as we was with her,” Arch said as he pulled the car away from the curb.
“They had another steak set. Did you see it? I didn’t think it was as nice as the one we gave them, though.”
“I should hope not. You shot our wad on the damn thing.”
“Did you think the wedding was as nice as ours, Arch?”
“Nobody dropped the ring,” Arch said. “No, it was all right, though.”
She sat silently as they turned corners and finally came out on the streetcar tracks. Pepper trees hung over the street and the streetlights were coming on. Arch was frowning.
“What’s the matter, Arch?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re thinking the same thing I am, aren’t you?”
“How do I know what you’re thinking?”
“What are you thinking, then?”
“Oh, Jack got a telegram down at his place before we came up. I was wondering what it was.”
“When? You mean before the wedding?”
“While he was getting dressed. He looked like he’d got hit with a dragline and bucket when he read it.”
“Somebody congratulating him or something. Arch, don’t you…”
“No,” Arch interrupted, shaking his head. “He looked really snowed. He tore it up like he was sore as hell.”
“You should have read it when he wasn’t looking. Arch, don’t you feel sorry…”
“I asked him what it was,” Arch said. “He said a friend of his was getting married, too. Now why do you suppose he got all upset like that?”
“I don’t know. Arch, don’t you feel sorry for that girl? I sure do.”
Arch guided the car through a traffic signal, and then turned toward her. He looked annoyed. “You don’t need to feel sorry for her,” he said. “She’s all right. What do you mean you feel sorry for her?”
“She just hasn’t got it, that’s all. She should have married that other boy.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“She can’t hold him.”
“What do you think you are?” Arch said angrily. “A prophet?”
“I don’t need to be a prophet to see that. You saw it too, only you always take the other side whenever I say anything. She should have married that other boy.”
“Will you tell me what the hell you mean?” Arch cried. “I’m so stupid I only saw Jack Ward and Gene Geary getting married, but you seen the preview or read the plot in a movie magazine or something. Why don’t you tell me what you mean?” He stopped for a red light, which changed as soon as he had stopped, and he rasped gears getting started again.
“Oh, she’s nice enough,” Marian said. “She’s sweet and she looks like a doll and all that, but she hasn’t got the stuff. Jack’s going to get sick of that sugar candy and go hunting some roast beef, and you remember I said it…”
“Jesus!” Arch said.
“You just remember I said it. And you know what she’s going to do? She’s going to think up some way to get him back, or read a book about how to get your husband back, or something, and you can’t do it that way. Not that Jack Ward. She’s going to be real sweet and forgiving when she ought to claw his eyes out and then get him in bed and show him what he can’t get anywhere else, only she hasn’t got it, that’s all.”
“Oh, Jesus!” Arch said.
“You just remember I told you.”
“We better start playing the horses, you know so damn much about the future,” Arch said irritably.
He drove into the auto court and parked the Studebaker in the shed beside their cabin. Inside, he went to the icebox, chipped some ice, and made them each a drink. “You want to go over to Tully’s, hon?”
“I certainly don’t,” Marian said. “I can’t stand that dumb Liz Tully.” She took off her coat and hung it on a hanger in the closet. She had spilled punch on the sleeve of her dress and she ought to get after it with the spot remover. Arch sat down in the easy chair, hung one leg over the arm, and switched on the radio. It began to hum and the light glowed behind the dial.
“He knew it when he was marrying her,” Marian said, sipping her drink and looking at Arch accusingly. “He knew he was going to give her a bad time when he stood up there with her. You could see it on his face.”
“Okay,” Arch said. “You know it all.”
4
A month or two after the wedding Arch and Marian had the Wards over to dinner, and everything seemed to be fine. Marian had to admit that what Arch had been telling her might be true.
Gene seemed wonderfully happy. It was obvious to Marian in her manner, in the way she talked, in the way she looked at Jack, and Marian had to admit, although grudgingly, that Jack seemed happy too. She watched him critically, watched him help Gene to her chair when they sat down for dinner, saw that he never neglected to light Gene’s cigarette, watched him help her into her coat when they left and take her arm going down the steps. She had to admit to Arch that she might have been wrong, but she didn’t admit it to herself. She was going to wait and see.
When, after Christmas, Hogan and Griffith got the new contract down near the border and Smitty was moved up to superintendent, he made Jack grade foreman in his place. Marian was angry at first because she thought Arch should have had it, but Arch didn’t seem disturbed. He pointed out that since they were working two hours overtime a day, plus Saturday, and that Jack was on a salary instead of wages, he was making more money than Jack. When Gene called him up to ask them over to dinner, Marian guessed it was to celebrate the new job.
Jack hadn’t come home from work yet when they got there, and Gene made them a drink. She and Jack had furnished their apartment themselves, with a good-looking maple living-room suite they had bought on payments from Montgomery Ward’s, a three-way lamp and a maple dining-room set. Gene had made the drapes and the spread in the bedroom and she invited Marian out into the kitchen to look at her new stove and refrigerator, which were both gas-operated. The two of them discussed the relative merits of gas and electricity, Marian leaning against the sink and Gene working over the stove, while Arch sat in the living room with his drink.
When Marian went in to look at the bathroom she closed the door behind her and combed her hair. There was a blue-and-white chenille cover on the toilet seat, and Jack’s shaving things were arranged neatly on a glass shelf below the mirror-fronted cabinet. Making sure the door was locked, Marian searched the cabinet and the closet and the drawer of the washstand beside the tub to see if she could find any birth-control equipment, and finding none, wondered if Jack and Gene meant to have a baby right away. When she looked at herself once more in the mirror she was scowling, and she carefully smoothed out her face and turned off the light when she went out.
Arch was in the kitchen with Gene, mixing another round of drinks. It was seven-thirty and Gene looked worried. She peered into the oven at the roast and turned the gas low.
“Why, I don’t know what could be keeping Jack this long,” she said.
“He’s probably working late,” Arch said. “Probably something came up at the last minute.” Gene looked at him gratefully and Marian went into the living room and lit a cigarette. She pulled the drape back and looked out the window at the dark street,
wishing Arch would come out of the kitchen so she could whisper, “I told you so.” She knew he did not come out because he knew she would.
“I’m afraid the roast will get dry,” she heard Gene say, and she snubbed her cigarette in a polished silver ashtray and returned to the kitchen, kicking Arch’s foot as she passed him. She leaned against the sink again with her arms folded, watching Gene and pitying her, and suddenly liking her. She was prettier than Marian had thought at first, with the big worried dark eyes, and dark hair clustered in curls around her head, and red lips that folded softly out of the thinness of her face. She wore an apron with frills over the shoulders and she scratched her nose as she leaned down to look into the oven.
“Oh, he’ll be along in a minute,” Arch said, refusing to look at Marian. Finally he scowled at her, and she raised her chin and looked back at him triumphantly.
“Maybe we’d better go ahead and eat without him,” Gene said. “What do you think, Marian?”
“I don’t know, honey. Arch, why don’t you go call up Smitty?”
“I don’t know his number.”
“I have it in my purse,” Gene said, and Arch went to the phone with her. He returned to say that Smitty didn’t know where Jack was.
“He’s probably out having a drink with some of the boys,” Marian said. “There’s always a first time, honey. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Arch was making frantic faces at her.
“But that’s not like Jack,” Gene protested. “He knew you were coming tonight, and why wouldn’t he have phoned?” She wandered aimlessly around the kitchen, finally taking off her apron and hanging it behind the door. “I’m afraid something’s wrong,” she said, nervously running her hand up and down over her bare arm. “Well, I guess we’d better go ahead and eat.”
They ate an awkward and silent meal. Afterward Marian insisted on helping Gene with the dishes while Arch sat in the living room looking at a Life magazine. Gene was sniffling and Marian was beginning to be angry with Jack, even though this proved she had been right. She kept talking, telling Gene whatever came into her head about her married life with Arch. But when she had stopped for a moment, Gene said, “Marian, don’t you think we ought to call the police or something?”
