Evan Connell - Mr. Bridge

“I’m sure none of them imagined it would go this far.”

“I am not so sure. It wouldn’t surprise me if they did. I don’t know what gets into kids these days, but they can’t let well enough alone. They ought to have let the girl know she wasn’t welcome as soon as she tried to butt in.”

“Now, Walter, that’s not right. That’s not right at all. Carolyn was very clear about it: they wanted the girl.”

He lifted his hands in a light gesture of surrender. “Have it your way. I’ve given you my opinion.”

She stood up and wandered toward the door, but paused with a vague expression and said while toying with her beads, “I just hope Carolyn doesn’t carry out her threat. No matter how strongly she feels about it I can’t see how quitting the sorority would accomplish much.”

“I agree. I hope she doesn’t. But if she does it won’t be a tragedy. She can live in a dormitory or a private home. Quite a number of those people in university towns rent rooms to students.”

“I spoke with her on the phone last week and she sounded so happy.”

“Well,” Mr. Bridge said indifferently as he resumed looking through the papers on his desk, “it’s too bad.”

“Then you won’t talk to her?”

“If you insist, I will. Frankly I don’t consider it any of my business, and sooner or later she’ll have to learn to face these problems by herself. She might as well get started right now.”

“I suppose,” Mrs. Bridge said. “Oh, dear. Well, I did promise to call, so I’d better. I honestly don’t know what to say to her.”

“That woman flying in from Dallas may be able to straighten them out. I hope so. I hope so for everybody concerned.”

“Then you think the best thing would be for the girls to admit they made a mistake?”

“That is not what I said. My opinion on this matter is irrelevant. The decision is theirs. I wash my hands of the entire affair.”

One morning less than a month later Carolyn arrived from the university in midweek with an opal ring on her finger, located her mother in the breakfast room staring out the window at some chickadees in the garden, and announced that she was engaged to Gil Davis. This news was not received with much enthusiasm. Mrs. Bridge asked if she had told her father. Carolyn had not. Mrs. Bridge suggested it might be a good idea to let him know as soon as possible. Carolyn responded that it might be better to wait until he got home, and then, after dinner, if he was in a good mood, that might be the time to tell him.

They discussed the situation a while longer. Carolyn suggested that her mother telephone the office in order to let him know about the engagement. Mrs. Bridge countered by saying that since it was Carolyn’s engagement it was up to Carolyn to break the news.

After about an hour, very reluctantly, Carolyn telephoned the office.

Mr. Bridge, on learning that she thought she was going to marry some individual by the name of Gil Davis, informed her that he was too busy to listen to this sort of nonsense, if she did indeed have a ring from this boy she was to give it back, and furthermore she was to return to school at once because he was not paying her tuition in order for her to skip classes and come trotting home whenever she felt like it. He had never heard of any Gil Davis, he said, which was not true — he remembered Gil Davis as the boy responsible for the Arthur Merton fiasco — but he said this in order to let her know that he considered Gil Davis too insignificant to remember. And even if he had heard of this boy, whatever his name was, it did not make any difference because there was not going to be any marriage, nor any engagement, not now, not this year, not until she had finished her education. That was all there was to it. He was busy. He was not going to waste any more time discussing it.

Carolyn began to cry.

Hearing this familiar and unpleasant female noise, Mr. Bridge announced that he had no intention of leaving the office to drive home and straighten this matter out. She was to get hold of herself at once.

Sobbing with rage, Carolyn slammed down the telephone receiver. Somewhat later, after lunch, having had time to mull over what had happened, she started back to school with the opal ring in her purse.

Mr. Bridge came home earlier than usual on the chance that she might still be there, because the longer he had thought about her so-called engagement the angrier he got. But she was gone. Harriet told him she had left soon after lunch. He strode into the hall, took off his hat, his gloves, and his coat, laid his briefcase on the table, and went looking for his wife. He found her in the bedroom seated before the mirror at her dressing table. She did not appear to be doing anything. He had a feeling she had been there a long time not doing anything. He was puzzled that she could squander so much time this way. She did it often. He himself could not sit still for more than a few minutes unless he was occupied. He had never understood how she was able to spend thirty minutes or an hour in a trance. However, if that was what she chose to do it was all right. Harriet took care of the house and the cooking, and Douglas made no demands. There was not much else to be looked after. Possibly that was why she sat around.

He asked if Carolyn had returned to the university. Mrs. Bridge said yes. He wanted to know how she was feeling when she left. Mrs. Bridge said she had seemed terribly unhappy but was no longer crying. He asked who the boy was. Mrs. Bridge told him as much as she herself knew about Gil Davis, which was that he came from a town called Parallel in southern Kansas near the Oklahoma border, he was a junior at the university, studying business management, and he worked three afternoons a week in the dean’s office. There was one other thing, but she did not mention it: his father was a plumber.

Mr. Bridge asked what fraternity Gil Davis belonged to.

Mrs. Bridge was not sure; she thought Carolyn had mentioned that he did not belong to a fraternity, but it would be best to ask Carolyn about that.

How long had she been acquainted with this boy?

Mrs. Bridge was not sure.

Mr. Bridge announced that he was not going to have his daughter running around with every Tom, Dick, and Harry.

Mrs. Bridge said, “Goodness, you’re behaving as though it was my fault!”

He said, “I don’t know whose fault this is.”

“The boy is probably all right,” she said.

“You may think so, but I do not,” he said furiously. “These state universities are jam-packed with opportunists. Now, I am not wealthy, but one day what I have will belong to you and the children, and I do not intend to let some no-account get his hands on it. I have worked too hard for too many years.”

“Well, I do think you’re being unreasonable. You’ve never so much as laid eyes on the boy.”

“Nor do I intend to. Carolyn promised me she would give back that ring.”

“I was listening. I could hear every word. I wouldn’t be surprised if half the neighborhood heard.”

“Never mind that. Did she say anything to you about giving this fellow back his ring?”

“Not in so many words. But she promised, so I’m certain she will. I believe, though, she did mention something about waiting until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow! Why does she have to wait until tomorrow? Why isn’t she returning it as soon as she gets back to school? There’s something funny going on here, and I don’t like it.”

“I imagine she’s simply too overwrought to speak to him right away. Honestly, Walter, you could have been a little more understanding.”

“I don’t know what has gotten into Carolyn,” he said as though he had not heard. “It’s costing me a considerable sum of money to put that girl through school. I sent her up there to learn something, not fiddle around. Does she think I’m made of money? Does she think I’m paying the bills so she can chase around day and night with this whatever his name is? Either she straightens out or I’ll know the reason why. I will not put up with this much longer, believe you me!”