The Dream Merchants
Page 31
She didn’t catch Rocco’s reply because just then Peter came on the phone. “Hello, Johnny,” he said.
“Yes, Peter,” she heard Johnny say into the phone she switched off her key and hung up the phone.
Rocco and Dulcie came into her office. He closed Johnny’s door behind him. There was a strange smile on his face as he brought Dulcie over to her desk.
“I’d like you to meet Miss Andersen, Johnny’s secretary,” he said politely. “Miss Andersen, this is Miss Warren.”
Dulcie smiled at her. Jane thought the smile was condescending and her dislike for Dulcie deepened. “I’m glad to meet you,” she said politely, not meaning a word of it.
Rocco took Dulcie’s arm and steered her toward the door. They stepped out. A few seconds later Rocco popped back into the office, alone. He looked at her and whistled softly. “No wonder Johnny’s standing on his ear.” He grinned mischievously at her. “What a babe!” He shook his head from side to side. “She sizzles when you touch her!”
Jane made a face at him. “You men are all alike.”
His grin grew broader. “I just came back to tell you not to worry ’bout me, baby. I’ll be true to you!” He turned to go out the door again and then stopped. His words floated back mockingly over his shoulder. “But poor Johnny—Oh!”
6
Dulcie knew that he was looking at her but she kept her face turned away from him, watching the dancers on the floor. The lights were soft, the music was sweet, and the dancers were moving slowly as if caught in a dream world of their own.
She was thinking about what Warren had said to her that morning before Cynthia had come into the room. “How are you making out with our big picture man?” he had asked mockingly.
“All right,” she had answered. “I think he’s trying to screw up enough courage to pop the question.”
He had grinned derisively at her. “You better turn on more charm, sugar,” he said, “or the fish will get off the hook. I see in the paper that he’s going to the studio in the morning.”
Johnny’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Dulcie.”
She turned and looked at him, her eyes wide and clear. “Yes, Johnny.”
He smiled apologetically at her. “I don’t suppose there’s much fun in it for you going to a dine-and-dance place with me.”
She knew what he meant and a sudden inexplicable wave of sympathy for him ran through her. She put her hand on his. “That’s not so, Johnny,” she said softly. “If I didn’t want to go with you, I wouldn’t be here.”
He turned his hand over and held hers. He looked down at her hand. It was thin and small-boned and soft in his. “It’s been very kind of you to spend so much time with me that last few weeks,” he said humbly, not looking up from the table.
She restrained a smile. “I wanted to, Johnny,” she replied.
He didn’t look up. His voice was still humble. “It’s meant a lot to me that you did,” he said. “It’s difficult for some people to understand how a guy like me feels. We watch people living and having fun and somehow we’re always on the sidelines, never in the crowd.” He looked up at her. His eyes were a dark blue and there was an honest warmth in them. “By being so kind, you’ve made me feel for a while like I was one of the crowd.”
“The fool,” she thought desperately. “Why doesn’t he say it and get it over with?” But she didn’t genuinely understand what he had been saying—that he felt he couldn’t ask her what he wanted to. She didn’t speak. She sat there waiting for him.
His eyes were still on her. “I like being with you,” he said. “And I’ll miss you.”
He didn’t ask her. The surprise she felt showed in her voice. “You’ll miss me?”
He looked at her. His heart leaped within him at the disappointment in her voice. “Yes,” he said. “Have you forgotten? I’m going to California in the morning.”
“Oh, Johnny,” she said, and this time there was genuine disappointment in her voice. “Must you go?”
He nodded his head. “I have to. Business.”
She tossed her head angrily. He liked the way her eyes flashed at him. “Sometimes I think that’s all you really care about! Business! The trouble with you is don’t know how to relax and have fun.”
He smiled at her. “A guy like me isn’t set up to have fun. All I can do is work.”
She leaned forward, her face very close to his. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Johnny!” Her lips parted a little, showing the white ends of her teeth. “You’re no different from anybody else! What happened was an accident and doesn’t really make any difference to anybody and shouldn’t to you.” She closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her. “That should do it!” she thought triumphantly.
She felt his hand press hers and heard his voice. She opened her eyes, feeling a little ridiculous. “It’s kind of you to say that, Dulcie,” he was saying. “I won’t forget it.”
He looked at his watch. “My God, I didn’t realize it was this late!” He looked at her. “Ready to go?”
She looked back at him. For a moment anger flared through her. What the hell was he doing, she thought, playing with her? As quickly as the feeling had come, it vanished. No, he really meant what he was saying. He didn’t want to impose himself upon her. She took her lipstick from her evening bag. “I’m ready,” she said. “Be with you in a minute.”
They were silent in the cab on the way home. He paid the driver and followed her into the lobby. They waited silently for the elevator and rode up to her apartment.
He waited while she opened the door and then followed her into the foyer. There was a small light glowing and it cast a dim shadow over their faces. She turned to him.
He held his hat awkwardly in his hand. His free hand reached for hers. “So long, Dulcie,” he said.
She took his hand. “Will you be gone long, Johnny?” she asked wistfully.
“Till March,” he said.
“Oh,” she said disappointedly. “That’s a long time.”
He smiled at her. “It’s not so long, Dulcie. I’ll see you when I get back.”
She turned her face away from his in the darkness. “Maybe you won’t,” she said, her voice small and plaintive. “Warren wants me to go home and give up the idea of going on the stage.”
He watched her. His voice wasn’t steady when he finally spoke. “Maybe Warren has the right idea. It’s a pretty tough life.”
She turned her face toward his. In the dark it was glowing with an inner incandescence. True feeling rushed into her voice. “No, it isn’t right, I know it!” Her shoulders drooped helplessly. “But there isn’t anything I can do about it. I guess I’ll have to go home.”
He put his hand under her chin and turned her face up to his. His voice was sympathetic. “Don’t feel blue, Dulcie. If you really want something, you’ll get it.”
“Do you really think so, Johnny?” Her voice was excited. “I want to be an actress, a great actress. Do you think I will be?”
He looked down at her reassuringly. “You will be if you want it bad enough.”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He almost stumbled in his surprise; then his arms went around her. She let her body press against him. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you, Johnny,” she said against his ear.
He drew away from her stiffly and looked at her. He was suddenly aware of his clumsiness. Coldly his mind told him that she couldn’t be interested in him. A man with only one leg. He felt a pain stab through his breast. All she could really do was feel sorry for him.
“I’ve got to be going, Dulcie,” he said uncomfortably.
She stared at him unbelievingly. The man was crazy. What did he want? A written invitation? In a sort of daze she held out her hand.
He took it. “Good-by,” he said.
She didn’t answer. Still dazed, she watched the door close behind him. Then suddenly she came to life. In a rage she took off one of her shoes and flung it at the door.
“What did you want me to do?” she snarled at him. “Hold him by his trousers?”
He walked over to her, shaking his head gently. “Temper, temper,” he said. “Can’t you see the man has ideals and is a gentleman?”
With an effort she controlled herself. She smiled and came toward him, put her arms around him, and looked up into his face. “What are we going to do now, Warren? I tried.”
He disengaged himself from her clasp. “I don’t know what you’re going to do, honey,” he said quietly, “but you’re going to have to leave here.”
She stared at him for a moment. Rage flashed across her face, and suddenly it was gone and she smiled. She turned, walked over to the door, and picked up her shoe from the floor. She walked back to him slowly. “Darling,” she said, sweetly, “did you ever want something you couldn’t have?”
His face was puzzled. “No,” he answered. He watched her walk past him to the inner door. “Why?”
She turned and faced him. The light of the room fell across her. She let her evening wrap fall from her shoulders. “Then take a good look, darling,” she said slowly, “because some day you’re going to want it an awful lot and you won’t get it!”
***
Johnny looked out the window of the train. They were rolling through the Jersey meadow. He settled back against the cushions comfortably. There was a knock on the door.
He looked up. It must be Rock with the papers. His hands were probably filled and he couldn’t turn the knob. He got up and opened the door.
“Can I come in, Johnny?” the voice asked him plaintively.
He stood there for a moment in shocked surprise. “Dulcie!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
She came into the compartment and closed the door behind her. “I wanted to be with you, Johnny,” she said breathlessly, looking up at him.
Happiness gradually replaced the look of surprise on his face. He reached out an arm to her. She took his hand. “But what about your plans?” he asked bewilderedly.
She put her arms around his neck and clung to him. “Last night when you kissed me I suddenly knew what I wanted. I didn’t want to be an actress any more. All I want is you!”
“But—” Johnny insisted.
“No buts!” she said swiftly. “I’m free, white, and twenty-four and I know what I want!” She pressed her lips to his.
He held her close to him. Her lips told him what she said was true. He could hear the words in his ears: “I know what I want!” The only thing the matter was that he didn’t know how true they were.
7
The sound of the water running in the shower woke him up. For a moment he lay listening to it, then, slowly, he rolled over on his back. He had been sleeping on his stomach. He opened his eyes. The bathroom door was open and through it came the sound of the running water.
He sat up and reached for his watch on the table next to the bed. It was almost six o’clock in the morning. He reached for the crutches that lay next to the bed and lifted himself up. The bed squeaked as his weight came off it.
Dulcie’s voice came from the shower. “Darling, are you up?”
He grinned to himself. If he hadn’t been awake before he heard her voice, he was now. He was suddenly alive. Alive in every part of his body in a way he hadn’t been for many years. “Yeah,” he called back.
“There’s a note on the dresser for you,” she called in to him. “I found it under the door this morning when I woke up.”
He went to the dresser and picked it up. It was a white square envelope with the hotel’s imprint up in the left-hand corner. On it was his name scrawled in Rocco’s familiar handwriting. He opened it.
“Dear Johnny,” it read, “I ordered the car to pick you up at seven fifteen downstairs as you wanted and took the five ten this morning back to New York. There’s no place for an extra man on a honeymoon. Good luck.” It was signed: “Rocco.”
He tapped the letter thoughtfully against the dresser. He thought Rock had been acting strangely yesterday when they had been married at that whistle stop just inside the California border. They had got off the train at Pasadena at ten thirty last night and had come directly to the hotel.
He had told Rock to have a car ordered for seven fifteen in the morning. Rock had looked at him and laughingly said: “Do you think you’ll be up that early?”
He had grinned back at Rocco foolishly. “Sure,” he had said. “I told Peter I’d be out at his house for breakfast.”
Awkwardly they had shaken hands and bidden each other good-night. He had gone up to their room and knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Dulcie’s voice was small.
He had gone into the room. She was in bed already, a small robe flung across her shoulders. The light from a small table lamp next to the bed was the only light in the room. She was watching him.
He smiled reassuringly at her. “Nervous?” he asked.
She nodded her head. “A little,” she replied. “I was never married before.”
He laughed at her small joke and sat down on the bed next to her and put his arms around her. She turned her face to his and he kissed her. He looked down at her; her eyes were closed. He kissed them tenderly. “Don’t be afraid, darling,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
He didn’t know it, but the shoe was on the other foot. She was gentle with him. So gentle he hadn’t suspected her experience.
She came out of the bathroom, a robe hanging loosely around her shoulders. “What is it?” she asked.
It was a moment before he realized she was referring to the note he held in his hand. The robe hung open and she was lovely beneath it. “From Rock,” he said looking at her.
She tied the robe around her and walked toward him. “What does he say?”
He handed her the note and she read it swiftly. A feeling of elation ran through her. There was something about Rock and his devotion to Johnny that she was afraid of. She gave it back to him. “It’s funny, he didn’t say anything last night,” she said.
“Yes,” he said slowly, “it is funny.” He laughed shortly. “I feel strange.”
She had turned and was running a comb through her hair. At his words she turned back to him. “How?”
He was uncomfortable. “This is the first time since the war Rock hasn’t been around.”
She came to him and put her arms around him. “You don’t need him any more, darling,” she said. “Now you’ve got me.”
He smiled down at her and kissed the lobe of her ear where it peeked out from under her hair. “It’s not that, sugar,” he said. “It’s something else.” There was a guilty feeling inside him. Strangely he couldn’t help thinking he had let Rock down.
She snuggled closer to him. “What else?”
He laughed embarrassedly. “Like who’s going to drive the car to take us out to Peter’s house this morning?” and was ashamed of his words as soon as they were out of his mouth, for that wasn’t the way he felt at all.
She kissed him. “I’m quite talented, darling,” she said, taking him at his word. “I can drive, too.”
She was curious about Peter and his family and asked him many questions about them as they drove out to his house. She asked him so many questions he didn’t realize most of them were about Doris.
At last he turned to her and laughed. “Don’t be such a busybody, you’ll meet them for yourself in a few minutes.”
She kept her eye on the road. “I’m only asking because they have known you so much longer than I,” she said in a hurt tone of voice. “And I wonder if they’ll like me.”
He kissed her cheek. “Stop acting, darling,” he said, smiling. “You know they’ll love you.”
She drove silently, following his directions. She was no fool. When she
had made up her mind to marry Johnny she decided to learn all she could about him. Warren had told her as much as he knew. She added to that by careful questioning of some friends of hers who worked on theatrical papers. From them she had learned all about Peter and his family. She had especially been interested in Doris. An instinct told her to learn more about Doris. She had checked and found out that Doris had written a novel that had been published just a few months before. She read the book. When she finished it she knew she was right about Doris. The man in the story was enough like Johnny to be him.
Johnny’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “This last turn here and we’re right at the house.”
She looked at him. His face was intent, watching the side of the road for the first sign of Peter’s home. There was also a look of happy anticipation there. For a moment she was very fond of him. He was such a nice guy; he had acted toward her like a schoolboy with his first love. She took a hand off the wheel and placed it on his. “Happy, Johnny?” she asked.
He looked at her. “What do you think?” he asked in return, squeezing her hand.
***
Doris looked at them blankly. Her mind was still numb, her heart seemed to have turned into a lump of ice within her breast.
His words still hung in the air. “We were married last night!”
She watched her father jump up and go around the table and excitedly pump his hand. Hours seemed to go by. What was Johnny saying? She tilted her head a little to one side as if to hear better. He was talking to her. Desperately she tried to hear him.
“Ain’t you comin’ over and kiss your Uncle Johnny?” he was asking as if she were a little girl.
Stiffly she got to her feet. She wished she was a little girl again. Little girls didn’t hurt inside the way she did.
8
Conrad von Elster put his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands and stared at the photographs spread out before him. He was unhappy. And he was worried too. He was looking for a woman and couldn’t find one.
Not that there was a shortage of women in a personal sense for Herr von Elster. That there never was. In spite of a carefully cultivated rudeness of manner, unkempt, sandy-colored hair that never looked washed, slightly bulging, gimlety blue eyes and a pale, oily skin, he had attracted many women. This time he didn’t want a woman for himself, he wanted a woman for a picture he was about to make.