Irving Wallace - The Man

“Edna, I repeat, no need for that. Besides, you’re quitting, too, next week. Did you forget?”

“Oh,” she said, and slumped. “That’s right.”

He kept looking at her, until she was uneasy, and then he kept looking at the Scotch, and then he said quietly, “Edna, when big things happen to you, your life sort of changes-know what I mean? You’re forced to take stock-and that’s what I’ve been doing myself these last two days, taking stock. I have a better picture of myself. I’ve been too conservative, not taking any chances, and to get anything out of life you’ve got to-well-stick your chin out and say to yourself and everybody, I’m me, I’m somebody, I deserve more out of life, out of my career and out of life, and I’m going out and get my share of life, no matter what. Know what I mean?”

Her mind had gone blank, but she said dutifully, “Yes, George.”

“I’m making a fresh start from tonight on. That’s what I decided. Like the next job. No more looking for anything second-rate. I’m shooting straight for the top. And like us, the two of us, no more waiting for the big doubloons at the end of the rainbow. Live for today, that’s all there is to be sure of, and if you have to make good, somehow you make it, and meanwhile you’re getting something out of life. Do you understand, honey?”

“Yes, George.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, “or you wouldn’t be sitting there like you’re miserable.” He put aside his drink and leaned across the table. “Edna, I’ve denied myself long enough. I want to start over again from scratch. Maybe it’s the wrong time, both of us going to be out of work, but maybe it’s the best time to start living. Edna, the minute you come back from France, let’s get married.”

She had not quite heard him, with her mind wallowing in self-pity, with the Gibson in front of her face, and she had been about to say “Yes, George” when comprehension forced its way into her stultified brain. “What? What did you say? I’m sorry, I-I’ve been drinking.”

He was smiling. “I said, darling, let’s get married. Forgive me for keeping you waiting this long, but if I’m going to be big, think big, I’ve got to show I can live big like-”

“Married?” She was about to weep. Could it be? Could it possibly be? “George-I-I think I’m going to die-you said-darling, you want to marry me?”

He continued to smile. “Nobody else, if you’ll have me. The minute you return-”

“Oh, George, I’m coming apart-come here, don’t let me cry-I’m so excited, I’ve never been happier-to think-George, kiss me-”

Nervously he glanced around the cocktail room, confirmed that they were still alone, and quickly he picked the chair up under him and moved it around the table beside her. She was sniffling as she accepted his kiss.

“I haven’t heard you say yes,” he murmured.

“Yes-yes-yes-a million times yes.” She had his shoulders, held him off, searched his face. “George, you mean it? I’m tight now-I don’t want to wake up in the morning and find out I was dreaming-we’re going to be married?”

“I’ll pin a note on you to remind you and to tell everyone else, ‘No Trespassing.’ ” He saw the waiter appear in the inner door. “Hey,” he called out, “two more of the same!”

“Oh, George, I’ve had enough to drink. I don’t need-”

“You haven’t had a drink as Mrs. Murdock-to-be.”

She enclosed both his narrow hands in her own, and snuggled against the wondrous safety of him. “When, darling, when will we do it?”

“Just as I said, right after you return from France. Of course, you’ll want to give Dilman a week or two’s notice-I mean, you owe him that much. It’s not easy for a President of the United States to replace his personal secretary. Then we can marry. We’ll work out exactly where and how, and I have a few bucks to tide us over while we’re both looking for jobs-actually, maybe you won’t have to work any more, if I can find something fast, something good-”

He had become solemn again, and she squeezed his hands and said, “Darling, don’t look so worried. I don’t want to start off with me being a burden. I want to quit that job, but it doesn’t have to be right away. Of course, I’ll stay on until you’re set. It’s the least I can do.” She kissed his cheek. “In fact, I’ll insist upon it.”

She parted from him, sat back in a ladylike way, as the celebrating round of drinks was served. Her eyes made out two Gibsons-two and a half-two waiters, two Georges; and the room reeled. She had never been so excited, so happy, so floaty, so lucid in her head, and, after the waiter discreetly left the lounge, so much at one with another person. He was no longer a separate being, a desirable object, a goal, an idea. He was her own, and she was his own, and the merging was miraculous.

After they toasted, she had no notion if she made sense, but she bubbled over and talked and talked about her life and hopes, and their life and future, and what she would do for him and what it would be like, the most perfect marriage in history.

How long she went on she did not know, except her first drink as Mrs. Murdock-to-be was drained, and she was being very serious now, practical, to show him he had not been mistaken because she was practical and would make his life an eternal Christmas.

She knew that her tongue was thick, but she knew also that on this memorable evening he must be reassured that he had not made a mistake.

“I’ll make it better than any marriage there’s been on earth, George, no bickering like my folks, or bossing around like my girl friend, Dorothy, did, no unfaithfulness from either of us like the people we know about here-the Arthur Eatons-that kind. You won’t want to chase, George, because you’ll have no need to. I’ll keep a beautiful house, and raise the best-mannered, smartest children, and give you interesting meals, and help you with your work, and charm your friends so you’ll be proud of me. You’d be surprised what I’m really like, George, how much better I am-better-groomed, and brighter, more fun-like when you first met me-remember? It’s just been worse recently, and you appreciate that, you know why. But once you have the right job, the one that’s perfectly right for you-and there’s no rush, George, I won’t quit until you tell me to-but once you’re settled and happy, then I can give up the White House office. You’ll see how different I’ll be, how relaxed, devoted, better-looking, once I get away from that horrible job and that poor miserable man I’m working for.”

“I’m sure of it, Edna,” he said.

“You can be surer than being sure of being sure of it,” she said grandiloquently. “Once I’m free to devote myself to you, and be with our kind of people, who are happier, as we will be, and not tied down to a friendless, tormented, heartbroken black man, with his black thoughts, who is worrying about being killed, who doesn’t even have a wife to console him because she drank herself to death, whose son is failing in school, whose daughter is passing for white-who is so afflicted with personal problems, nobody would believe it, let alone what he goes through in public where-”

She realized that her beloved George’s cool hand was upon her hand, caressing her hand lovingly, lacing his fingers through hers like they were married and in bed together. “Edna, what are you saying?”

“What am I saying?” she repeated, not remembering.

“About the President having a daughter. You must be mixed up. No more drinks. What if someone overheard you?”

“George, stop teasing. I haven’t been drinking any more than you. I’m very sober. I know everything I’m saying, and I never make up anything, like other wives do. You’ll see. You’ll find out. It’s one of my virtues from my father. You’ll always know your wife says everything true.”