The Tight White Collar

by Grace Metalious

  How ridiculous, thought Margery and sat down in one of the huge armchairs in her living room. Who could possibly care about one schoolteacher more or less? Nate seemed to care, though. In fact, he had managed to work himself into quite a state about the whole thing. What in the world is the matter with me today? wondered Margery.

  She could not seem to sit still and asked herself worriedly if she could possibly be coming down with something. In ten years, Margery had never allowed herself to become ill even once. If she fell sick, who would look after Robin? Certainly Virgie was a help but she couldn’t do everything alone and Nathaniel was worse than helpless around his own daughter. Jess Cameron? Margery shook her head. Jess was good and he meant well, but every time he was around Robin he began to nag Margery about putting the child into an institution.

  “What will you do if you have another child?” he had asked.

  And Margery remembered her own words to the doctor.

  “Are you crazy?” she had demanded. “Another child after Robin?”

  “Lightning doesn’t usually strike twice in the same place,” Jess had said. “You can’t save Robin, but another child might save you.”

  “Save me! What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m trying to say that if you had another baby you might save your sanity and Nate’s and your marriage.”

  “My mental state is in fine condition, Jess, and as for my marriage, it’s fine, too.”

  “Margery, you might try it my way, you know. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

  Margery sighed. “I know you wouldn’t, Jess.”

  “There’s a doctor I know,” continued Jess. “He is a very good man, fine and kind and gentle and his only child is like Robin. He’s given his whole life to caring for children like yours and his. He has a home, a sort of school, where he cares for them. Margery, for your own sake as well as Robin’s and Nate’s, go to see him.”

  “All right,” she said wearily. “If it’ll make you and Nate happy, I’ll go.”

  Margery had gone alone to see Jess’s friend, Dr. Nathan Alter. The doctor showed her around the house and the school and explained everything to her in his soft, gentle voice.

  It’s true, Margery admitted to herself. Jess was right. Dr. Alter is a kind man.

  The children, all so like Robin, came running to him, smiling as he walked across the lawns. They nuzzled against him, loving him. Margery saw a girl who seemed to be about twelve years old playing on one of the walks. The child had a miniature broom and she was making awkward, hesitant, sweeping motions at the ground.

  “You see,” said Dr. Alter. “Some of them can be taught!”

  “Oh, yes I know,” said Margery. “One doctor told me that Robin would never walk, but I’ve taught her to walk. How long did it take you to teach that little girl how to play with the broom?”

  “Five years,” said the doctor proudly. “Notice, please.”

  He walked up to the girl.

  “Hello, Marya?” he said gently.

  The child dropped the broom and reached for the doctor. Patiently, so patiently, smilingly, he picked up the broom and held it out. Marya fixed her eyes on the broom, reached for it hesitatingly and then, with an air of heartbreaking concentration, she gripped the broom, held it in the correct position and began to make the sweeping motion.

  “You see?” asked the doctor jubilantly. “You see how well she remembers?”

  Five years, thought Margery and burst into tears. At once, Marya dropped the broom and gazed at her. Slowly the child’s eyes filled with great tears that spilled onto her cheeks.

  “Please, please,” begged the doctor. “Please, Mrs. Cooper. It upsets the children.”

  He went to Marya and turned the child away so that she could not see Margery. Instantly, Marya stopped crying and the doctor handed her the broom.

  “Come, please,” said Dr. Alter and led Margery rapidly down the walk toward the house.

  When they were seated in his office again, he said, “Mrs. Cooper, Mongoloids, such as the ones we have here, are very sensitive to affection and they respond just as quickly to tears. You must learn this first, before anything else. We do not weep.” His voice softened. “It is not easy, Mrs. Cooper, to look at them and keep from weeping. But we must all learn. And you must also learn, in fact, you must come to believe that an institutionalized child is happier than one who remains with the parents. We love the children here, Mrs. Cooper, but we are also impersonal. We have taught ourselves to take our days off and our vacations, and we have learned to forget the children while we are away. But most of all, Mrs. Cooper, we have learned not to weep.”

  Margery stood up quickly. She was afraid that if she sat still any longer, listening to the doctor’s calm, quiet voice, she would begin screaming.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Alter,” she said rapidly. “But I could never bring myself to leave Robin here. You have a lovely place and I know you treat the children well, but I simply could not leave Robin here.”

  “What if you ever became pregnant again, Mrs. Cooper? What would you do with the second child?”

  “In the first place,” said Margery, “Mr. Cooper and I do not plan to have a second child. However, if it happened we would all manage together as best we could.”

  “I strongly advise you to abandon that latter idea, Mrs. Cooper,” said the doctor. “Do you actually suppose that a normal child could grow up happily in a home with a child like Robin? Don’t you understand that your tension and nervousness and concern with your first child would communicate itself to the second one and make him miserable? No, Mrs. Cooper, with Robin at home you would never be able to give a second child the love and attention that is his right.”

  Margery kept her eyes on her gloved hands.

  “Then there won’t be a second child,” she said.

  “And your husband?” asked the doctor.

  “Robin comes first,” said Margery.

  “My dear,” said Dr. Alter, “you are making a very grave mistake.”

  All the way back to Cooper Station, Margery remembered all too vividly the sights she had seen at Dr. Alter’s school and she shuddered.

  I’ll teach her myself, she thought. I’ll never send her away to a place like that. I’ll teach her everything she needs to know and I’ll do it alone.

  And Margery tried. She tried with every grain of determination that was in her. She talked to Robin, sang to her, held her in her arms and rocked her. She spent long, long hours repeating one word, over and over again.

  “Ma-ma.”

  She pressed the child’s fingers to her lips so that Robin could feel the sound of the word.

  “Ma-ma.”

  Robin looked at her mother with slanted, empty eyes and smiled. She rubbed against her mother’s shoulder like a kitten seeking attention.

  “Oh, please, darling,” Margery begged. “Please try. Please listen. Ma-ma.”

  And Robin smiled.

  Margery began to cry and immediately, the child, too, was weeping.

  Margery grabbed her up and held her against her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, darling. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” She rocked back and forth in the chair and smoothed back the child’s coarse hair. “Hush-a-bye, my baby, slumber time is coming soon. Hush, darling. I love you, darling. Hush. Hush.”

  The rain was letting up, Margery noticed vaguely. Then she stood and started back up the stairs to see if Robin still slept. From the window in the upstairs hall she saw Lisa Pappas run across the graveled pathway and into Anthony Cooper’s house.

  I suppose it’s true, thought Margery. What everybody is saying about her and Anthony. No wonder the town doesn’t want her husband teaching here.

  Even as Margery watched, the lights went on in Anthony’s living room and in the moment before he drew the drapes, Margery saw Lisa
standing in the middle of the room in sharp outline.

  I wonder what they say to each other, thought Margery. Do they talk about everything, or do they just talk about love?

  As if she could pierce the darkness and the curtains in the house across the street, Margery stared at the windows of Anthony’s living room.

  Maybe he has his arms around her, thought Margery. Maybe now he’s kissing her and whispering that he loves her. Nate used to do that.

  Margery turned away and went into Robin’s room.

  A mistake, she was thinking. A very grave mistake.

  And what of Nathaniel? How does he feel? It’s been a long time since I wondered what Nate was feeling. I wonder if Lisa Pappas knows how Anthony feels about everything. Odd, the way I noticed Nate’s eyes today. It’s been a long time since I looked into his eyes at all. But when I left him earlier today to come upstairs to Robin, he had such a bleak look about him.

  Margery walked to the cradle and looked at Robin, who still slept, and suddenly she was tired, achingly, painfully, bone tired. Her throat felt thick and her eyes burned.

  The first thing you must learn, Mrs. Cooper, she remembered, we do not weep.

  She heard Nathaniel’s car drive into the garage and a moment later the front door opened and closed softly.

  Nate’s always careful like that, she thought. He never makes a sharp noise that might wake Robin because he knows that it will hurt me.

  And suddenly, with no warning, Margery Cooper’s dam of self-control broke into a million pieces. Her tears came in a flood, pouring unbeautifully down her face. Her whole body ached with the pain of loosening and she ran out of Robin’s room and down the stairs.

  “Nate!” she screamed. “Nate! Where are you?”

  Nate dropped his hat and briefcase and rushed with his arms outstretched to catch her while her voice, shrill and insane, filled the whole house. He could see Virgie, her wide, black face gray with fright, standing in the doorway, her hands twisting her white apron, her eyes watery.

  “For God’s sake, Virgie,” roared Nate. “Don’t just stand there. Get Jess, quickly!”

  He saw Virgie turn and run to the telephone and he watched helplessly as she fumbled with the receiver.

  “Come quick,” said Virgie at last. “Mist’ Cooper, he say come quick!”

  Nate stood still in the hallway, holding Margery. He saw the pattern of the black and white parquet floor and he realized that he had never really seen it before. In the center of the floor, surrounded by black and white squares, the parquet was arranged to depict a gigantic snowflake. How odd, he thought foolishly. A black and white snowflake.

  Jess Cameron came rushing through the front door.

  “Robin?” he asked quickly.

  Nate was unable to speak but just stared dumbly at Jess while his big arms cradled Margery.

  Jess dropped his black bag on the floor and took Margery away from Nate almost roughly.

  “Go pour yourself a drink, Nate,” he ordered. “A big one.”

  “Nate!” Margery screamed. “Nate, where are you?”

  “It’s all right, Margery,” said Jess gently. “You’re going to be all right.”

  Her eyes searched wildly and her hands pushed at Jess. “Nate, where are you?” she screamed, and it was the cry of a child caught in a nightmare.

  Jess carried her upstairs and put her down on her bed. His fingers found the vein in her arm and he injected the quick, merciful needle.

  “Nate,” she moaned. “Nate, I’m so tired. Where are you, Nate? Where are you when I need you so?”

  Nathaniel knelt beside his wife’s bed.

  “I’m right here, darling,” he said. “I’m right here. Don’t be frightened, darling. I’m right here.”

  Jess Cameron and Virgie, standing in the open doorway twisting her apron, heard him and realized that Nathaniel was speaking to his wife in the same soft croon with which Margery habitually spoke to Robin. There was something horrible about Nate’s voice, something frightening, and at last Nate heard it himself and stopped.

  Margery slept and Jess put his hands under Nate’s armpits and raised him to his feet.

  “Virgie,” said Jess, “I want you to sit right here with Mrs. Cooper. If she wakes up, call me. I’ll be downstairs with Mr. Cooper.”

  In the dark, chill library, Jess struck a match to the waiting paper and wood in the fireplace.

  “Here, Nate,” he said. “Sit down.”

  He poured brandy into two glasses and handed one to Nathaniel. “Drink it up, Nate,” he said.

  “What is it, Jess!” asked Nate. “What’s happened to Margery?”

  “She’s tired,” said Jess as calmly as he could. “She’s tired in a way that you and I can’t even begin to imagine. It’s the kind of tired that is called a nervous breakdown and the only miracle I can think of is that it hasn’t happened long before now.” Jess sipped at his brandy and lit a cigarette. “I think that today all the strain that’s been building up since Robin’s birth is finally beginning to splinter in Margery. The time’s come when you’re going to have to make a choice, Nate. Robin or Margery. You’re going to have to choose one because now it’s going to be impossible for you to keep them both.”

  “But what shall I do?” asked Nate, and in spite of the fire and the brandy he could barely keep his teeth from chattering. “If I pack Robin off to some place or other, I’m afraid that it would finish Margery completely.”

  “If Robin stays, she will kill Margery,” said Jess. “She’s close to a complete breakdown now.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Jess. “Perhaps in a few days we’ll be able to talk to Margery and when we do we are going to have to convince her that Robin must go.”

  Nate stared out of the window at the gray lines of rain.

  “Is Margery going to get well, Jess?” he asked at last.

  “I don’t know,” replied the doctor. “I hope so. I think she will, but I’m not sure.”

  “When will you be sure?”

  “Maybe tonight, when she wakes up. Maybe not for several days.” Jess finished his drink. “I’ll be back tonight and I’ll send a nurse over from the hospital to look after Robin. You and Virgie will have to take turns with Margery. I don’t want anyone strange around her right now.”

  That night, for the first time in years, Margery Cooper slept in her own bed instead of on a cot in Robin’s room. Nate and Virgie undressed Margery and slipped a nightgown over her head, then Nate sat in a chair and held her while Virgie smoothed the sheets on the bed.

  “I’ll stay with her, Virgie,” said Nate. “You go to bed now.”

  “I dunno, Mist’ Cooper,” said Virgie worriedly. “I dunno if that white gal gonna do all right with Robin and if she don’t that jes’ fret Miz’ Marg’ry.”

  “She’ll do all right, Virgie,” said Nate. “You go to bed.”

  Nate put his wife to bed and then he undressed and lay next to her and Margery slept. Nate lay on his back and cradled her head on his shoulder and listened to her breathe.

  Please, he prayed. Not Margery. Let Margery be all right and I’ll never ask another favor as long as I live. Haven’t You done enough? Can You hear me? Does even one word break through to You? Make Margery well.

  He knew that she was awake when he felt her tears against his shoulder. He brushed her hair away from her face and tightened his arms around her and Margery began to sob. Nate had never heard a woman weep like this. It seemed to him that Margery was lost in a sea of tears and heaving sobs. She twisted against him and beat her clenched fists against the blankets and her cries were hoarse and jagged, and Nate could do nothing but hold her and try to soothe her.

  For the first time in ten years the Cooper household did not function around Robin alone. Jess Cameron came every fo
ur hours to give Margery an injection and if the nurse, who looked after Robin and could just as easily have given Margery her shots, thought this peculiar, she said nothing. Her name was Iris Boulton and she had worked for Gordon long before Jess was out of medical school. She saw the extra gentleness in the way Jess touched Margery, the way his fingers smoothed her hair away from her forehead and the way he held her wrist so that it was almost a caress when he took her pulse. Iris Boulton was sorry and she turned away when Jess looked at Margery for surely if there were anyone who deserved more than this, it was Jess Cameron. Margery turned her face away from Jess and wept.

  “Do you think he hates me?” she sobbed. “Does he hate me, Jess?”

  “Of course he doesn’t hate you,” replied Jess. “Nate loves you. Always has and always will.”

  “He’s always been so kind, Jess, and I never took the time to be kind in return. I only had time for Robin.”

  “I know, Margery.”

  “But I love him, Jess. I’ve always loved him and I didn’t stop after Robin. I just didn’t have time anymore, that’s all.”

  Jess turned away from her and stood up. “I know,” he said.

  “I just lost my way,” she said. “And for a while I forgot all about him, but I never stopped loving him.”

  “Why don’t you tell him, Margery?” said Jess gently.

  “I used to watch Lisa Pappas,” Margery told Nate. “I was like a spy the way I watched her and Anthony, but I couldn’t help it. I’d see her going into Anthony’s house, or I’d watch him walking toward the cottage and I’d picture them together.”

  Nate laughed and held his wife close to him.

  “I guess everybody in town has been watching Lisa and Anthony.”

  “Yes,” said Margery, “except, you see, I couldn’t make myself think that they were doing wrong. At first I told myself that it was terrible, the way she was carrying on her cheap little love affair right under the eyes of her husband and children, to say nothing of the whole town, but then I started thinking about love, and the whole thing didn’t seem bad at all anymore.”