Эд Макбейн - Mothers and Daughters

“When did you arrive, David?” she called to the open bathroom door. “Last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you come by train?”

“No, I drove.”

She was glad he could not see the relief on her face. “Traffic heavy?” she asked casually.

“No, not too bad.” She heard him turn on the faucet, heard him splashing water onto his face.

“Will you be much longer, David? I may have trouble getting a hitch out to the lake.”

“I’m finished,” he said. He came out of the bathroom drying his face.

She did not want to ask him directly if he would drive her. She wanted the suggestion to come from him. But the suggestion did not seem to be coming. She glanced again at the big clock, rose, and said, “Well, may I have the key? There isn’t a bus running, is there? Would you know?”

“To where, Kate?”

“The lake,” she said. “Daddy promised me the car, and then remembered he had to take it in for a... a greasing.” This was an outright lie, and she wondered if David would notice her father’s car was not in the Talmadge garage.

“I don’t think the buses begin running until after Memorial Day,” David said.

“Well, I’ll get a hitch, I suppose. May I have the key, please?”

He went to the kitchen cupboard and took down a Jar that was half full of tagged keys. He turned the jar over onto the table and began reading the tags, looking for the key to the lake house.

“How long will you be there, Kate?”

“Oh, just until I find the suit. I can’t stay too long. I’m supposed to meet your mother in White Plains.”

“How will you get to White Plains without a car?”

“I’ve already arranged for a lift.”

David found the right key. He handed it to her and said, “This is for the front door. It sticks a little, so pull down on it when you open it.”

“I will. Thank you.”

She turned quickly and started for the door.

“If you like, I can give you a lift there,” David said.

“Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t trouble you, David.” She opened the door.

“No trouble at all, Kate. I haven’t anything planned, anyway.”

She turned and smiled graciously. “That’s very kind of you,” she said. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Just let me get my wallet and my keys,” David answered.

She talked about the trip to Europe all the way out to the lake. She sat on her side of the car with her legs crossed and her skirt demurely pulled below her knees. She didn’t want to seem too excited about the trip because she knew this would appear childish to him. Nor did she wish to seem indifferent to it, because she knew he would detect this as a false attitude. She talked about it enthusiastically, and with a sense of anticipation, but all the while she was thinking, I’m alone with him, I’m alone with him.

The lake was deserted when they got there.

It was twelve-forty, and the sun was directly overhead, shining brightly on the water, giving the lake a curious look, as if it were composed of light beams somehow solidified. He parked the car in the driveway and they walked to the front door together. She didn’t know exactly what she planned to do now that she was here with him, but at least they were alone. David unlocked the door, and they walked into the darkened house. The living room smelled of contained dust and moisture and heat. The furniture was covered with white sheets.

“I’ll open some windows,” he said. “No sense suffocating while you look for that suit.”

She went directly to the small bedroom at the rear of the house, knowing full well she hadn’t left the suit there, but pretending to search through the empty dresser drawers and the empty shelves in the closet. She could hear David opening the windows facing the lake.

“Find it?” he called.

“No, not yet,” she answered. She slammed a drawer shut, and then opened another one.

“I’m going out on the deck, Kate,” he called, and she heard the back door of the house open and then close again. She was glad he’d gone outside. For a moment, she’d thought he would join her and watch while she went through the bogus search. But he was out of the house now, and this gave her some time to consider her next move. She went through the small end bedroom methodically, almost as if she were conducting a real search, knowing she would find nothing, trying to work out a feasible plan all the while. When she finished with the bedroom, she walked out into the corridor and opened the door to the linen closet. There were perhaps half a dozen large towels and two blankets in the closet, leftovers from the summer before. She studied them thoughtfully.

And then the idea came to her.

The idea was a simple one, a cliché she had seen represented hundreds of times in cartoons and motion pictures. But as she stood looking into the open linen closet at the blankets and towels, it seemed to her the idea had two distinct advantages. First, it would make David feel extremely masculine and heroic while presenting her as a helpless, dependent female. And secondly, it would give her an excuse for disrobing. She nodded in agreement with the idea.

She had decided she would drown.

Or, at least, she would pretend she was drowning.

He was waiting for her on the deck outside. He was sitting facing the lake solidified by light.

“I couldn’t find it,” she said. “I was sure I’d left it here.” She shrugged. “It was a nice suit, too. The red wool, do you remember seeing me in it?”

“I think so, yes.” He kept staring at the lake, seemingly absorbed by it.

“It was my favorite suit,” Kate said.

“You looked well in it,” David said.

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. May I have a cigarette, please?” She sat in the chair opposite him and crossed her legs. David offered her the package and she took one and waited for him to light it. She blew out a stream of smoke. “Thanks.” They were silent. The sun blazed on the surface of the lake, reflected dizzily onto the deck. “Mmmm, that sun is good,” she said. “Are you in a terrible hurry, David, or can we just sit here for a while?”

“I’m in no hurry,” he answered. He was still staring at the lake.

“Mmmmm,” she said, and she stretched out her legs, bracing her feet on the deck railing, pulling the tight skirt back a little. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun. “Oh, that’s really good,” she said.

“I hate this lake,” David said suddenly.

She did not open her eyes. She was thinking, Wading, I’ll say I want to go wading. I’ll slip and fall in. The water’ll be cold. I have to be careful because he knows I’m a good swimmer. I can do it, though, and I know the water’ll be very cold, and that’ll be my excuse. I just have to be very careful.

“Every time I come to this damn lake...” he started, and then shook his head and fell silent.

She was ticking off the seconds. She did not want to wait too long, what time was it already? But neither did she want him to suspect she was executing a preconceived plan. She waited. She could feel the hot sun on her face and on her legs. She pulled her skirt a little higher.

“It’s awfully hot, isn’t it?” she said at last. “I wish I had found that suit. I’d go in for a swim.”

“Water’s still probably very cold, Kate.”

“I think I’ll wade, anyway. Want to join me?”

“I’ll watch you from here.”

“Oh, come on down.”

“Nope. Thanks, Kate.”

“Please, David?”

“All right,” he said reluctantly.

“Take off your shoes.”

“This is against my better judgment,” David said, smiling. He took off his loafers and socks, and rolled up the cuffs of his trousers. Together, they went down to the edge of the lake. She chose her spot carefully, knowing exactly where the rocks were most slippery, knowing exactly where the lake bottom dropped off suddenly after a few shallow feet of shelf. She pulled her skirt up over her knees. She was sure he was watching her. She was sure his eyes were on her legs. She was suddenly glad she’d worn the tight black skirt.