Эд Макбейн - Barking at Butterflies and other stories

Frank took the receiver from her. “Hello?” he said. “Yes? The what’s too loud?” He looked across the room at the television set. “It isn’t even on, ” he said, “so how can it be on too loud? Well, you just tell the man in seventeen that perhaps the television on the other side of him is on. In eighteen, that’s right. Tell him it is not on in sixteen. Goodbye,” he said, and banged down the receiver. “Stupid ass,” he said. “Good thing we won’t be coming back here anymore.”

In a very tiny voice, Millie said, “Won’t we?”

They looked at each other silently.

“I didn’t know you’d get so angry,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“Then why’d you tell me, Millie?”

“I had to.”

“Why?”

“Because of what you said.”

“When?”

“Just a little while ago.”

“What did I say?”

“You said this wasn’t a banquet.”

“Huh?”

“You said it was just an ordinary long lunch hour. Well, to me it’s a banquet. And if it’s just an ordinary long lunch hour to you, then you can go to hell. If you’re in the habit of taking lots of women to a motel in New Jersey...”

“I have never...”

“Putting a projector in your trunk...”

“I have never...”

“And showing them your lousy sixty-second commercial...”

“I thought you liked my commercial,” he said.

“Not if it’s been seen by every stupid housewife in the city of New York!”

“It’s been seen by stupid housewives all over America, ” Frank said. “It’s been aired approximately two hundred and twenty times. Listen, Millie, how did you suddenly become the injured party. I’m the injured party here. I’m the one who’s been betrayed.”

“Betrayed?” she said. “Oh my God, you sound just like Michael.”

“Leave Michael out of this, if you don’t mind. Let’s get back to Paul.”

“Why? Paul was nothing but an ordinary long lunch hour.”

“A little while ago, you said he filled a very important need in your life.”

“That’s right, he did.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Millie. Either he was meaningful or he was a cream cheese sandwich on whole wheat.”

“Toasted raisin.”

“Whatever.”

“He was both.”

“Perhaps you’d like to explain that.”

“Perhaps I wouldn’t.”

“Fine. Let’s get dressed.”

“Fine,” she said.

She walked angrily to the rack, took her dress off its wire hanger, and slipped it over her head. “I thought you’d understand, but apparently you’ve never been neglected in your own home.” He did not answer. “Apparently Mae adores you completely,” she said, walking to him. She turned her back to him, and he zipped up her dress. “Thank you,” she said. “Apparently Mae never treated you in a way that might force you to consider addressing a stranger in Chock Full O’Nuts. But when someone is concerned solely with Puts and Takes and selling short, then perhaps a woman may feel the need for conversation...”

“Conversation!” Frank said. “Jesus!”

“Yes, with someone whose interests extend beyond commodities. With someone who doesn’t think of a woman as just another commodity. Paul thought of me...”

“As just another navel,” Frank said.

She stared at him icily, and then said, “Paul thought of me as a very exciting individual. That’s how he filled a need in my life. And that’s why I’ll always be grateful to him.”

“Fine,” Frank said, and put on his jacket. “Are you ready?”

“Not quite,” Millie said. “Which isn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy the other aspect as well.”

“Millie,” he said, “you have said it all, you have really said it all. Now let’s just get out of here, okay?”

“I’m not dressed yet,” she said, and sat and put on her pumps, and then walked to the dresser and rummaged in her bag for her lipstick. “Haven’t you ever felt like going to bed with somebody?”

“I have,” he said.

“Not Mae, I mean.”

“Not Mae.”

“Who?”

“Hope.”

“Hope? The Head of Creation?”

“Yes.”

“Hope!”

“That’s right.”

“That’s disgusting,” Millie said. “She’s your boss! ”

“She’s also a beautiful redhead.”

“And a Wasp besides,” Millie said.

“She happens to be an atheist.”

“Has Mae ever met her?”

“She has.”

“Does she like her?”

“Not particularly.”

“Good,” Millie said, and capped the lipstick and dropped it into her bag. “I’m ready,” she said.

“Let’s go then.”

“Let’s go,” she said, and started for the door, and then suddenly stopped, and turned back to look into the room.

“Got everything?” he asked.

She hesitated.

“What’d you leave?”

“Nothing, I guess,” she said, and shook her head. At the door, she hesitated again, and then said, “Frank, there’s just one thing I’d like to know. Why do you find Paul so threatening?”

“I do not find him in the least threatening,” he said.

“Then why are you so angry?”

“I am not in the slightest bit angry,” he said.

“I was stupid to tell you,” she said, and shook her head again. “Michael’s right. Stupid is stupid, that’s all.” She sighed, and then said, “Let’s go.”

“What do you mean, Michael’s right?”

“He’s right, that’s all. He thinks I’m stupid, and I am.”

“You are definitely not stupid,” Frank said.

“Michael thinks so. Maybe that’s because he’s so smart.”

“Has he ever actually said he thinks you’re stupid?”

“Not in so many words. But what he does is I’ll make a suggestion about something, you know, and he’ll say, ‘ Thank you, Millicent,’ with just the proper inflection and tone, you know, to make me feel like an absolute moron. As far as he’s concerned, if I keep my mouth shut and dress the girls properly and help him watch his damn calories, that’s enough. Do you want to know something, Frank? I’ve known you for only four months, and I feel closer to you than I do to my own husband. What do you think of that?”

He did not answer.

“Well, it’s true,” she said. “Which is why I can’t understand why you feel threatened about something that happened...”

“I don’t feel threatened.”

“You all feel threatened,” she said. “If I’d ever told Michael about even posing for Paul, he’d probably have hit me or something.”

“What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me he beats you?”

“Don’t be silly, he’s Jewish.”

“So was Louis Lepke,” Frank said.

“Yes, but he got mixed up with a lot of Italians. Now don’t get offended.”

“I’m not offended.”

“You do find it threatening, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t find it threatening,” he said. “In fact, I find it lovely. In fact I find it delightful that you picked up a belly-button sculptor, and posed for him, and went to bed with him, and can still remember the exact date, October eighth...”

“Sixth,” she corrected.

“Yes, I find that all perfectly damn won derful,” he said, his voice rising. “I thought we were, for Christ’s sake, supposed to be in love with each other! I thought we were supposed to be able to trust each other and...”

There was a sudden hammering on the wall opposite the bed. Frank stopped mid-sentence, and turned to look at the wall.

“The black Cadillac,” Millie whispered.