Джон Макдональд - A Flash of Green

The last question was still there. Would another man ever have her? It would have to be with love. It would have to be like the way she had felt toward Van. But there might be no man in the world who could awaken that.

Wallace Lime had come over to talk to the three of them. Di took his hand away to light a cigarette. She smiled at them and murmured something about having to talk to Jackie, and went across the patio to where Jackie stood talking to Morton Dermond.

Morton said, “I was just telling Jackie she really does have the figure for one of those little sleeveless dresses, high at the throat, not fitted, no belt. I’d love to see you in one, Jackie. One of those fabrics that look like raw silk. They’re truly horrid on meaty women, dear, but you have a nice colty look.”

“He doesn’t know Ross,” Jackie said. “I dress for Ross, Morty. He doesn’t like the merchandise hidden under the counter. I’ve got to make the most of what I’ve got. Stretch pants and plenty of uplift.”

Dermond looked pained. “But it’s so obvious, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes indeed!” Jackie said, with a broad dirty grin.

Dermond looked at his watch and said, “I do have to run. I’ll send you our current membership list so you can check it against your files, Jackie.” He walked away from them, taking curiously short steps for a man of his size.

Jackie giggled. “I shouldn’t tease the poor brute. He yearns for pretty dresses, but he hasn’t got the build. He always wants to dress me, and it gives me the horrid feeling his taste is better than mine, so I strike back. He’s really one of the nicer ones. He’s not too obvious, and he has the good sense not to try to mix up the two worlds he lives in. When can we have our own little organization meeting, Katty?”

“No banking hours tomorrow. Do you want to come over?”

“You come to our house, honey. Two birds with one stone. I didn’t get a chance to tell you before, but Ross wants to use you again. Now, don’t look at me like that. It’s a stinky little six bucks for an hour or any part thereof, and the sketch has been okayed, so he knows exactly what the pose will be. There’s a swirly skirt of mine he wants you in, and it won’t take more than fifteen minutes. How about right after lunch? Bring your kids.”

“It always makes me feel like such an idiot.”

“Don’t be so self-conscious, honey. Ross loves your good bones, and he says you’ve got the best color values of any redhead he’s ever used. And he says you’re as easy to work with as a pro. And I’m so horrible at it. Poor guy. I freeze every time. I hunch my shoulders and the pictures come out looking as if I had one of those iron things holding my head steady like they used in the olden days. And I haven’t got good arms, he says.”

The group was breaking up. Kat said goodbye to Melissa and the colonel and went out to her brick-colored Volkswagen parked in the sandy shade next to the Jennings’ semicircular driveway. As she drove a mile south on Mangrove Road toward Sandy Key Estates, she thought of the meeting and how it had disappointed her. Probably, from an organizational point of view, they were better organized than they had been the last time, but there was a quality of indignation and enthusiasm which was lacking. At the first meeting two years ago, everybody had tried to talk at the same time, presenting all kinds of ideas. Perhaps now they were better qualified to combat the Grassy Bay fill, but there did not seem to be as much spirit, as much righteous anger.

The side door key was under the mat, and she was glad Roy and Alicia were becoming so reliable about replacing it. She went into the empty house and felt a familiar twinge of guilt as she snapped the big air conditioner on. She took off her blouse and skirt in the bedroom and went back and stood in the cool wind of the noisy unit until she felt chilled by the evaporation of the mist of sweat on her body.

She phoned the Sinnat home. The cook-housekeeper, Mrs. Riggs, answered. She asked her to tell Esperanza to shoo the kids on home. Mrs. Riggs asked her to hold the phone. Claire came on the line and said, “I knew you’d be late on account of the meeting, Kat. So we asked the kids to stay for a hamburger cook-out, and Gus is over here fogging us down. Here’s the deal, dear. You come on up whenever you feel like it, and the upper classes will have steak later on. Then when my pair are sacked out, either Nat or Esperanza can take yours home and sit with them until you’re damn well ready to call it a night.”

“Claire, I just can’t keep imposing on—”

“You’ve never imposed on anybody, Kat. Di wants you around tonight. As soon as he got home a few minutes ago he phoned Martin and Eloise, and they’re coming over too, later on, but without the little Cable heirs, thank the good Lord. We were talking about it when you phoned. Di wants to nail Martin about why he’s optioned that land to the developers. You know Di, so it ought to be something to hear. He thinks it would be a good thing if you were here.”

“But I work for Martin!”

“You work in the bank and so does Martin. Don’t be so darn timid, Kat, really. You were a friend and neighbor long before you worked for him. We’ll expect you, dear.”

“Well... all right, but I’m not going to get into any hassle. I’ll just listen.”

“Come along whenever you’re ready.”

Brian Haas muttered, stirred, opened his eyes at a few minutes before five. Jimmy Wing put his book aside. The small bedroom was hot.

Haas slowly fumbled the sheet down to his waist. His broad chest was shiny with sweat. His color was very bad. He looked at Jimmy.

“Still Friday?” he asked, his voice slow and toneless.

“Still Friday. Almost five o’clock.”

“One long son of a bitch of a day. How long have you been here?”

“Fifteen minutes or so.”

“Nan around?”

“She said she’ll be here a little after five.”

“Can you pour me some water?”

Wing poured a glass from the pitcher on the night stand. Haas hitched himself up in the bed and took the glass in both hands, shaking so badly he spilled perhaps a third of the water down his chin and chest. Wing took the glass, and Haas slid back down with a sigh.

“Been shooting me with something new,” he said. “It’s like the whole world was in slow motion. How about Borklund?”

“You’ve got a virus.”

“A two-quart virus.”

“Was it that much?”

“I don’t know. Probably. I bought four pints. I always buy pints. It cuts the losses if you drop one, I guess. I think I finished two before the car got stuck. I can remember waking up on the sand and killing another and feeling around for a full one and not finding it.”

“Couldn’t that much kill you? Taking it so fast?”

“I guess so.”

“Then what’s the point?”

Haas stared at him and Jimmy Wing thought he saw a flicker of amusement in the dark deep-set eyes. “Only the drunks know there’s no point in it, Jimmy. The civilians say it’s immaturity, or a need for love, or a physiological deficiency, or an escape from reality, or some such crap. I’m a drunk. So I drink. It’s that simple.”

“We civilians have to find reasons for things.”

“Happy hunting.”

“Is it over for this time?”

“It might be.”

“It’s rough on Nan.”

“It’s no picnic for me, fella. My life is full of places I can’t ever go again, and people I can’t ever see again. If it gets too rough, she can join that group. I can’t talk to you about it, Jimmy. You never joined the club. You haven’t been there. We’ll always be talking about two different things, so let’s skip it.”