Эд Макбейн - Strangers When We Meet

“Okay,” she said.

She took her good bra from her dresser drawer, changed into it, and then went to the bed. Picking up the low-cut dress, she slipped it over her head and then smoothed it past her hips. She turned her head to examine her stocking seams. “Just haven’t felt like it? Or what?”

“Just haven’t thought much about it,” Larry said.

“ Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, nothing at all. I’m sorry I’ve been withdrawn, Eve, but I always get that way when I’m working.”

“Never like this,” Eve said.

“Well, I’m sorry.”

His voice had grown suddenly sharp. She looked at him and said, “I don’t want to start an argument.”

“Neither do I.”

“Good. Let’s not. I’m only trying to find out why you’ve... you’ve cut yourself off from me. What is it, Larry? Where have you been for the past four months?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where have you been? Where are you? You’re not here, that’s for sure. Where are you?”

He went to her suddenly and lifted her chin. “Hey, come on,” he said, “don’t be silly. You look as if you’re ready to cry. We’re having a party, remember?”

She nodded and then put her arms around his waist and buried her head in his shoulder. “I bought mascara,” she said.

“What for?”

She shrugged. “And pancake, too.”

“You don’t need that crap.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Yes. You’re very pretty.”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you.”

“Larry?”

“Yes?”

“Will you make love to me later? When everybody goes home?”

“Yes.”

“Kiss me now before I put on my lipstick.”

He kissed her and she clung to him, and he said gently, “You’d better hurry. They’ll be here soon.”

“All right,” she answered, smiling.

She kissed him again and then walked down the corridor to the bathroom.

The Ramsays were the first to arrive. Larry greeted them at the front door.

“Hi,” he said. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“Better bring in the brass monkeys,” Ramsey said.

Larry laughed. Closing the door, he said, “Let me have your coats.” He took Ramsey’s and then his wife’s. Doris was wearing a blue woolen dress, her hair clipped short. She was an unattractive woman except for her mouth, a loose-lipped, sensually inviting mouth in an otherwise plain face. Ramsey, on the other hand, had no physical saving grace. He was possibly the ugliest man Larry had ever known. They’d met at a Pinecrest Manor beer party, and it had taken an effort on Larry’s part to prevent a snap judgment of character based on Ramsey’s looks.

“What are you drinking?” he asked.

“Scotch and water,” Ramsey said.

“The same for me,” Doris added, and Larry hoped there would not be too many Scotch drinkers tonight. He had bought more rye on the assumption that most of his guests would prefer that. They followed him to the makeshift bar in the kitchen.

“Nice wallpaper in here,” Doris said. “I’ll bet it was well over the allowance.”

“Ten cents over, I think,” Larry said.

“If that’s mine,” Ramsey said, “just put a drop of water in it.” The doorbell rang. “Finish the drinks,” he said. “I’ll answer it.” He walked to the door, opened it, grinned at Felix Anders and said, “My, my, they let all sorts of people into these parties, don’t they?”

“Hello, Paul,” Felix said, and the men shook hands. Larry came to the door, handed Ramsey his drink and then said, “Hi, Felix, Betty. Here, let me take your coats.”

“You’ll never get them in that hall closet,” Ramsey said. “You’d better start using the bed.”

“Come on, Larry,” Betty said, winking. “Let’s use the bed.”

Eve came into the living room. “Hi, everybody!” she said. “Come on in. Sit down.” They moved out of the entrance corridor and into the living room, sitting with the stiffness of early arrivers, waiting for the ice to break.

“I’ll have gin and ginger ale, Larry,” Betty said.

“Gin and ginger ale?” Ramsey asked. “What the hell kind of a drink is that?”

“It’s called a Gin Buck,” Betty said. “It’s perfectly legitimate.”

“Then it must be dull as hell,” Ramsey said.

“Can I help you with the drinks, Larry?” Felix asked, following him into the kitchen.

“Eve, honey,” Ramsey said, “if your husband wasn’t in the house I’d tell you exactly how much I like that low-cut dress.”

“Tell her anyway,” Betty said. “There’s nothing a woman likes more.”

“You look lovely, too, doll.”

“Second fiddle,” Betty said. “Larry, is that juice coming?”

“In a minute,” Larry called from the kitchen.

The doorbell rang again. Eve went to answer it. “Mary, Arthur,” she said. Turning to the living room and her other guests, she said, “It’s the Garandis. Hello, Signora,” she added warmly. “Come in.”

In her best prehistoric mother turtle manner, Mary Garandi, the Signora’s daughter-in-law, said, “Looked like there was a party here, so we decided to come over.”

“Good evening, Eve,” Arthur Garandi said stiffly, palely, blondly.

“Coats in the bedroom, please,” Eve said. “Give me your orders and I’ll have drinks ready when you return.”

“Do you have any Scotch?” the Signora asked.

“Yes.”

“Scotch and soda, Eve.”

“Fine. You know where the bedroom is, don’t you? I’ll introduce you when you get back. What are you drinking, Arthur and Mary?”

“Anything,” they chimed together as they walked to the bedroom.

There was a knock at the kitchen door.

“Who the hell...?” Larry said, and went to open it.

“Good morning,” Max Levy said, popping his red head around the door jamb, bugging his blue eyes. “I represent Collections, Incorporated. About that delinquent payment on your automo—”

“Come in, idiot,” Larry said, grinning. “Where’s Fran?”

“Here I am,” Fran Levy said. She was a tiny girl with brown hair and brown eyes. She came into the kitchen after Max, wagging her head. “He insisted we make a grand entrance through the side door. He threatened to divorce me if I didn’t come with him.”

“Throw your coats in the bedroom,” Larry said, “and I’ll mix you some sauce. What’ll it be?”

“Scotch,” Max said. “A water glass full. And I won’t bother you for the rest of the night.”

“Fran?”

“Rye and water.”

“I love you,” he said. “Do you two know Felix Anders? Felix, this is Fran and Max Levy.”

“How do you do?” Felix said, taking Max’s hand. He nodded at Fran. Felix never shook hands with women.

“Fran, Max,” Eve said, coming into the kitchen. “How’d you get in?”

“Hiya, honey,” Max said, kissing Eve on the cheek. “Down the chimney. How else does Santa arrive?”

“Put your coats away. Watch out for the traffic,” Eve said. “Larry, is Betty’s drink ready?”

“Oh, God, did I forget to bring it to her?”

“Which is it?” Felix asked. “I’ll take it out.”

“Your husband loves me, Eve,” Fran said. “He just said so.”

“Yeah? How come?” Eve asked.

“She drinks rye,” Larry said. Fran laughed and followed Max to the bedroom. Felix took his wife’s drink into the living room. Alone in the kitchen with Larry, Eve said, “You love me, too?”

“Sure.”

“How much?”

“The world.”

“Baloney. The Signora wants Scotch and soda. Mary and Arthur want anything.”

“We’ll give them rye. The Scotch is getting too big a play.”

“Okay. Remember your promise?”