Эд Макбейн - Mothers and Daughters

“Really? How old is she?”

“She was just ten.” His grin widened. “And I have a son named Bobby who—”

“You didn’t tell me your daughter’s name.”

“Kate.”

“That’s a nice name.”

“Yes,” Matthew said, and he nodded. “Bobby was three in July.”

“No dogs? Cats? Elephants?”

“A dog. A cocker spaniel. Present to Kate on her last birthday.”

“And what’s his name?”

“ His name is Beverly.”

“Oh, excuse me.”

“Apologize to the dog, not me. Besides, she’s been spayed, so your descriptive pronoun is partially accurate.”

“And the elephant?”

“No elephants, tigers or rhinoceroses. Rhinocer i .” He nodded. “What gives you the most trouble when you’re drunk?”

“I don’t get drunk.”

“ Everybody gets drunk.”

“I’m not everybody. I’m Julia Regan.”

“Well, Julia Regan, the thing that gives me trouble when I’m drunk is endings.”

“Not beginnings?”

“I mean the endings of words. The plurals. Like mooses and mouses and desks.”

“Why desks?”

“That’s a very hard word to say even sober. There’s a sort of echo on that word. Say it. Desks. Do you hear the echo?”

“Desks,” Julia said. “No, I don’t hear anything.”

“Desks,” Matthew said. “Try it again.”

“Desks.”

“Listen.”

“Desks. Why, yes,” Julia said. “A sort of sss-kkk echo. How did you ever notice a thing like that?”

“I’m a very observant fellow. Why is it that you don’t get drunk, Julia Regan?”

“I don’t have to.”

“I have to. At these parties, I have to.”

“Are you very drunk now?”

“No. Not very. Only somewhat. Why did you tell me you were fifty-eight years old?”

“Forty-eight, please!”

“That’s right, forty-eight. Same thing.”

“Because that’s my age.”

“Uh-uh,” Matthew said, shaking his head.

“Then why did I tell you that, Mr. Bridges?”

“To make things clear from the beginning, right?”

“What sort of things?”

“You know,” Matthew said. “You know.”

“Yes, I do. I’m sorry. Did I sound discouraging?”

“Well, when you drag out your crutches and your wheel chair and your eighty-year-old son, I can only assume...”

“I didn’t mean to be discouraging. If you want to make a pass, go ahead and make it.”

“Huh?”

“I think you heard me.”

“You said...”

“I said if you feel like kissing me or touching me, I wish you would and get it over with.”

“Well!” Matthew said.

“Well?”

“Well, that’s putting it on the line, all right.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I must be drunker than I thought.”

“Why?”

“I don’t feel like kissing you right now.”

“All right. If you ever do feel like it, then kiss me. Quickly, and once and for all.”

Matthew shook his head in amazement.

“What’s going on inside your head?” she asked.

“That’s a line from Room Service . ‘There’s just one thing I want to know, Gribble. What the hell goes on inside that head of yours?’ That was a very funny show.”

“Don’t change the subject, Mr. Bridges.”

“Was I changing it?”

“You were.”

“Okay. What do you want?”

“I asked you what you were thinking.”

“I was thinking I don’t understand you.”

“What’s so puzzling, Mr. Bridges?”

“Are you propositioning me?” Matthew asked.

There was such a tone of bewilderment in his voice that Julia burst out laughing.

“Well now, what’s so funny about that?”

“You’re very funny,” she said. “You’re like a little boy, Mr. Bridges.”

“Call me Matthew,” he said angrily. “And don’t ever say that again!”

“Which?”

“The little-boy baloney. There’s nothing infuriates a man more.”

“I’ll remember.”

“Okay, remember.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Because I think you’re playing games.”

“No, I’m not,” she said seriously.

“Then what are you doing?”

“Not playing games. Anything but that. I’m trying to be perfectly honest with you because I like you and want to be your friend.”

“So you ask me to hop into bed.”

“I didn’t ask you that, Matthew. I’m sorry. Perhaps I overestimated you.”

“Yeah, perhaps you did. It sounded very much to me like—”

“Damn it, keep still a moment!”

“Listen, don’t tell me—”

“ Keep still! ”

“I don’t like to be told—”

“Neither do I!” Julia snapped.

They were silent.

“Boy, we get along just fine, don’t we?” Matthew said.

“We do. And we will.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie, Julia.”

“All right, then. Everything.”

“I can’t give you that.”

“Only a fool would expect it,” Julia said.

“I thought we weren’t going to play games.”

“We’re not. We’re talking.”

“Very small talk.”

“You’re not very perceptive, are you?” Julia asked.

“You’re pretty insulting, aren’t you?” Matthew asked.

“I only insult people I like.”

“Better to be your enemy, then.”

“No. Better to be my friend.”

“Oh, the hell with it,” Matthew said, and again the patio was silent.

“Do you know why we’re fighting?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because now I want to kiss you.”

“That’s right,” Julia said.

“Is that your point?”

“That’s exactly my point.”

“Okay.” He nodded. He approached her awkwardly, clumsily cupped her chin in his hand. He lowered his mouth. “I’m going to,” he said.

“Please.”

Their lips met. Her mouth was very soft. She kissed well.

“All right?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said grudgingly.

“Did you enjoy kissing me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, and I enjoyed you.” She paused. “Do you want to touch me now?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like kissing my wife better than I like kissing you,” Matthew said, surprised when the words found voice.

“Yes, that’s good,” Julia said. She smiled. “Would you give me a cigarette now?”

He shook one free from the package and lighted it for her. She smiled at him over the match.

“I feel a little foolish,” he said.

“No, please,” she said, “you mustn’t. Besides, I don’t expect this to happen again, do you?”

“No. I honestly don’t.”

“But I’m glad it happened here and now. I’m glad it’s done.”

“I am, too.”

“And are we friends now?” she asked.

“I guess so. It’s been a hell of a long way around the mulberry bush, but I guess so.”

They laughed in the darkness.

“Listen,” he said.

“Yes?”

“You’re an exciting woman.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. So don’t... I don’t ever want to start anything, Julia.”

“Neither do I.”

“So don’t ever—”

“I won’t.”

“Okay.”

They were silent.

“Because I’m only human,” Matthew said.

“Yes, we all are. But if...” She stopped and shook her head. “No, I won’t say it.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“You’re starting wrong, Julia.”

“Of course, forgive me. I was going to say, if you ever need me, come to me. I didn’t want to say it because... I didn’t want you to think...”

“That’s not what I’m thinking.”