Эд Макбейн - Strangers When We Meet

“Were you a lieutenant?”

“Yes.”

“That’s very exciting. Don was a private. Or a pfc, I think. Is there a difference?”

“Sure.”

“Don enlisted.” She moved closer to him, making herself comfortable, and he put his arm around her waist.

“I wanted to enlist,” he said. “My mother wouldn’t let me. I wanted to join the Air Corps.”

“Did you see any action?”

“Yes.”

“Did you kill anyone?”

“Yes. At least I think so. It’s hard to tell when everyone’s shooting at once.”

“Where were you?”

“The Pacific.”

“Don was in the Pacific too,” she said, surprised.

“Really? Where? Was he on Tarawa?”

“I don’t know.”

“In combat?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then he’s killed his share, too.”

“I don’t know. He never talks about it.”

“Lots of men don’t.”

They fell silent. She felt quite content all at once. She had forgotten how the conversation had started. She knew only that they’d been talking in a friendly, easy, intimate way. She pictured him as a lieutenant in his Army uniform, shooting at the enemy. And then she moved away from him suddenly.

“Eve,” she said.

“What?”

“What happened at the Officers’ Club?”

“Are we back to that?”

“Yes, we’re back to that.” Unfortunately, I’m only a woman, she thought, and “Curiosity” is the password of our secret sorority, and so we are back to that. And perhaps we will always be back to wondering what it was about Eve besides the accidents of time and place that made you choose her.

“All right,” he said wearily. “I was there and she came in with an ensign. Her mother would have killed her if she’d known. Eve wasn’t allowed to date servicemen.”

“How sweet ,” Margaret said, hearing the nasty tone of her voice, and marveling at it, and despising it.

“Were you?”

“I was a baby during the war. I was only twelve when it started and almost sixteen when it ended. I never knew any servicemen except cousins.”

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-seven.”

She was about to be amused. After what they had shared together, he did not even know her age. She was about to smile when he said, “Two years younger than Eve. She’s twenty-nine,” and then she was no longer amused.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“I’ll be thirty-two in July.”

“Don’s thirty-two already.”

“Remember how old thirty used to seem when we were in our teens?”

“It still seems old to me. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever reach it.”

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Hell, no.”

He sat up and kissed her quickly and suddenly. “I like women who say hell,” he told her.

“Does Eve?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“You mean she does say hell?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I thought. It could have meant... you know... does she like women who say hell.”

“No.”

“No, I didn’t think you meant that.”

“No.”

They were silent again. She sat at the core of the silence, her lips pursed, smoldering. I won’t ask him another thing, she thought. Not another thing. I don’t care who they met or where or why. I don’t give a damn, and I won’t ask.

“What happened when she came in?” she asked.

“I recognized her, but she didn’t seem to remember me. Looked straight at me and then went off dancing with her ensign. Later on, I asked her to dance. She’s a good dancer, always was.”

“What else does she do well?”

“Lots of things.”

“Like what?”

“Look, you don’t want to hear this. You’re getting angry. I’d rather not tell it if you’re—”

“I want to hear it, Larry.”

“All right, I was dancing with her and I said, ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’ and she said, ‘Should I?’ and I said, ‘You slapped me on the B.M.T. in nineteen forty-three.’ And then she remembered.”

“What did she say?”

“She said, ‘I’m surprised the government allows degenerates to become officers.’” He laughed with the memory. “I explained to her that I hadn’t been the offender, though I certainly would have been if I’d known how pretty she was.”

“God, what a line!”

“It wasn’t a line.”

“Then you meant it?”

“Well... well, yes, I did.”

“You’re such a damn—” She stopped. “Did she swallow the hook?”

“She... oh, hell what’s the sense of this? I’m with you . Must we talk about Eve?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I asked her out, and that was the start of it. Let’s not talk about it.”

“You don’t seem to mind very much. You’ve been talking about it for the past fifteen minutes.”

“Look, you know she’s my wife, don’t you?”

“Of course I know it,” she said sharply.

“Then you know that people don’t get born married. They meet, and they go steady, and they get engaged, and things go through a natural progression, and then eventually they get married. So we went through the same natural progression and—” He grinned suddenly. “I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”

“You’re talking about your wife, Eve.”

“Let’s talk about Don, shall we?”

“You love her very much, don’t you?”

“Oh, for Pete’s—”

“Why is it so painful for you to talk about her?”

“It isn’t. I just can’t see why—”

“Is she good in bed?”

“Excellent!” he answered quickly, angrily. “The next question is ‘Is she better than me?’ Go ahead. Ask it.”

“I’d never ask that,” Margaret said.

“Why not?”

Her voice was very low. “I’m afraid of the answer.”

“Don’t ever be afraid of anything, Maggie,” he told her, and his voice was suddenly gentle. She looked at him a moment, rose suddenly, and walked away from the bed. She turned her back to him and stood by the dresser as if debating her next move. Then, without looking at him, she lowered the dress from both shoulders. It slid to her waist, catching at her hips. She pushed it over her hips, and then stepped out of it when it fell to the floor. Then she turned. He watched her as she walked to the bed.

“Do you know how much I love you?” she asked.

He did not answer.

“You’ll know,” she said. “Kiss me. Put your mouth on me.”

He sat up and pulled her to him. She stood close to the edge of the bed, her hands at her sides, accepting his mouth.

“Touch me,” she said. His hands moved over her body. She watched him with curiously calculating eyes. “We’re strangers until now, aren’t we?” she said. “Until this minute, we’re strangers.” And then she pushed him back onto the bed and her mouth descended fiercely, hungrily.

“Say it!” she said.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Oh, you,” she said. “Again, you. Say it again, you, you !”

“I love you.”

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop saying it. Tell me you love me. Tell me I’m all that matters.”

“You’re all that matters.”

“Nothing else matters. Not her, not anything.”

“Nothing else matters.”

“No one, Larry. Nothing. Only me. Tell me you need me. Tell me you want me.”

“I want you.”

“Ohhh, yes. Yes. Yes. You, you, you, you. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me !”

Eve sat alone in the living room.

When the doorbell rang, she put down the socks she was darning and went to answer it. The clock in the kitchen read 10:45, and whereas she knew it was too early for him to be back, she hoped it might be Larry.