Philip Wylie - Tomorrow!

These she took into the yard, eating one and then the other, like Alice with the mushroom edges. She thought of climbing on the trunk and scrutinizing the objects her father kept in a locked garage closet. From the trunk, a dusty window gave a good view. But that had lost its shock. She saw Queenie, the cat, move furtively through the hedge into the Bailey yard. Queenie then bounded forward a number of times and flattened out again. Sneaking.

Nora went through the hedge also, skirted the summer-house and came to rest, kneeling, behind the chimney of the Bailey barbecue pit. What Queenie was after was a bird, Nora told herself interestedly—a small one with red on it. The cat looked at the girl with hate in his eyes until he saw Nora was positively rather than negatively engrossed in his stalking. Then, showing off a little perhaps, he made a pitch for the bird. He moved inchmeal, all but invisibly; when the bird moved he froze. The bird didn’t notice Nora, who ate thoughtfully, taking care to make no sudden movement. It was a fairly fascinating thing to see, and she hoped old Queenie would get the bird because she had never seen a cat eat up a bird and never even really got a good look at a bird’s insides.

Thus Nora was where she was with reason. She was not engaged in eavesdropping, hiding in bushes, or any other such furtive occupation. She was merely watching her own cat hunt, while she ate her own sandwiches. The fact that she was concealed had to do with the cat’s quarry, and nothing whatever to do with the descent upon the summer-house of Lenore and Kittridge Sloan.

Lenore came jouncing and hurrying and laughing in a sweater and a skirt but no bra, Nora observed. The man—Nora at that time did not know who he was—had a mustache, black, small, twisty. She failed to observe that he was more than six feet tall, about thirty years old, built like a first baseman and dressed in sports clothes. She did notice that he wore three gold rings, looked like a “Mexican movie actor,” and got out a little leather thing that had a file in it and dug his nails, when angry.

“I haven t got long,” Lenore said, “so let’s sit here—”

“The Jaguar would take us some place a lot better in about five minutes.”

“I told you, Kit, I have to go to a meeting…”

He looked across the lawn at the Conner house and said, “You really mean you intend to go?”

Certainly. I’m in Henry Conner’s sector.”

He laughed a long time. “And I’ve invited you to the club!”

“I know. But this is important. The Transcript was perfectly beastly, this morning and…” she broke off. There was a pause and she said, “I’m sorry.”

That made him laugh even more, and Nora could see the dark young woman was relieved. The man said, “That’s Mother’s doing. She was trapped downtown last night. Brother!

Did she ever boil, simmer, curdle and take fire!”

“She has a right to her opinion, but I don’t agree—”

The man took Lenore by the shoulder and shook her gently, so that her dark hair swung and her worried expression faded. “I certainly am glad I went shopping today. Ye gods! Imagine you being around town—and me not. knowing it! How long…?”

“I graduated over a year ago, Kit,” she said.

From behind the barbecue pit and sundry rose bushes Nora reflected that his name, anyhow, was Kit, like First Aid Kit.

“And I didn’t know!” He peered at her with what the adventitious but fascinated onlooker regarded as an oozy look. “You realize, don’t you, that you’ve turned into the most beautiful piece of stuff in two states?”

Lenore moved away from him and sat down. She said, “Nonsense!” She paused and went on, “Besides, you have seen me, or could have, when you were in town last winter—at the Semophore Hill Club Christmas party. Several places. Only—you were busy.”

That made him laugh, too. “Blondes?”

“Various shades,” Lenore answered.

Nora began to wonder what would not make him laugh or, at least, titter. He sat down very close to Lenore, offered her a cigarette, and put one, for himself, in some kind of holder. A gold one, extremely sissified. “I gave you up,” he said, “three years back because—”

“Because wouldn’t—give.”

“Still the same old Lenore.”

She nodded. “You bet. Untarnished. But with a gradually souring disposition perhaps.”

He shook his head in mock sorrow. “Naturellement,” he said, which Nora knew was French for “naturally.” Otherwise she didn’t know what he meant when he went on, “The end product of spinsterdom.”

“Are you going to be in River City long?”

“Living with Muzz,” he nodded. “For how long? Search me! You know, Lenore, you could have something to do with that!”

“I doubt it. Maybe a day or two’s difference.”

“I was pretty crazy about you.

“You were pretty crazy, period.”

“That’s really not up to your usual acid rejoinder, dear.”

“No.” She gazed at him, not happily. “Look, Kit. I was one more of the college girls back then who thought you were a young female’s dream, answered prayer—all that.”

“But I am!” His bright smile gleamed, his amused laugh sounded.

“Oh, sure. E very young girl’s—”

“Just a sign of broad taste.” He chortled. “And the curse of wealth. Let me ask you something.”

“All right.”

“Is your health good?”

“Why? Of course it is.”

“Grandparents long-lived? Have many children?”

“Just what?”

He grinned. “Tell me.”

“One had five and Dad’s family has four and they’re all living. Why?”

He leaned back, blew smoke. “Mother is getting very insistent these days. You know. The family line must be continued. I must find somebody steady, intelligent, healthy, good family, sound stock—you’d really fit the whole catalogue.”

“Did she say anything about the girl being willing?”

“Nope. Mother rarely does. Just that she be found by me. The presumption is that the rest can be managed. By her, I suppose, if not by me.” He sighed ever so slightly and Nora thought it was not an especially interesting change of mood from his mirth. “Seeing you this P.M. at the handkerchief counter did more than bring back memories, Lenore. It brought to mind Mother’s bill of particulars.”

“You didn’t have to pick up a display umbrella and open it over me and kiss me, in front of all those shoppers and clerks!”

Upon hearing that news, Nora peered at Kit with the first sign of any reaction save disdain.

“Ah, but I did!” he said. “Only kiss I ever got with no fear of reprisal. You didn’t dare—

in the store.”

“Not true.” He took her hand. “That’s what I mean, Lenore. Remember?”

“I remember our last date. I wished I had a Colt automatic.”

“I’ll send you one, and then phone you for a new date.”

Lenore nodded. “I really have to go.” She looked across toward the Conner house where cars were parked.

“What do you do in Civil Defense?”

“Radiation safety.”

“And what would that be?”

“You know. Monitoring. Seeing if it’s safe to go in places.”

“That’s my girl!” Kit Sloan was amused again. “Checking with instruments, for safety! All right. I’ll take a chance. Phone you tomorrow.”

She thought about it and nodded. They got up.

Kit grabbed her and gave her a long and large kiss. Nora edged up a little higher on her knees to evaluate it. You could tell, she felt, that Lenore wasn’t particularly keen about the kiss.