Эд Макбейн - Strangers When We Meet

Perhaps, if Larry had made love to her that day — or even that night — she’d have put the idea aside temporarily. But Larry did not make love to her.

Perhaps, too, if Harry Baxter had not called the next day, she’d have put the idea out of her mind permanently.

But Harry Baxter did call the next day.

Wednesday morning.

The television forecasters the night before had promised temperatures in the high nineties. By eight in the morning the house was already suffocatingly hot. There was a muggy oppressiveness on the air, a clinging, crawling, penetrating, sticky heat that invaded clothing and furniture and flesh. There was a stillness to Pinecrest Manor. The lawns and the sidewalks and the roof tops baked. In the stillness, you could hear telephones ringing halfway up the block. You could hear a dog barking occasionally. The smothering blanket of August hung in the sky, bright, yellow, glaring.

She awoke to the heat.

The first thing she did was take a cold shower. She sent the kids out in shorts, with no shirts. She hoped the heat would not reach her. She wore her briefest halter, her shortest shorts, but still the heat penetrated. And as the morning doggedly wore on, it became more and more evident that the forecasters had been right. She sought the shade outdoors, but even in the shade it was difficult to breathe.

“Larry,” she said, “please! Let’s pack up and go to the beach.”

He agreed instantly. She went into the house to make some sandwiches and then discovered they were out of cold cuts. She made out a list, sent Larry to the market with it, and then went outside to the shade again. Larry had put out the children’s plastic pool and they romped and splashed in the water noisily. She watched them with adult envy and then finally went over to sit on the pool’s rim with her feet in the water. Across the street, the Signora was sitting on her shaded front stoop fanning herself. The front screen door opened and clattered shut again. Mary Garandi came out of the house.

“Hot enough for you, Eve?” she called.

Eve nodded but made no comment.

“Why don’t you get in there with the kids?” Mary called.

“I wish I could.”

“Go ahead.”

Eve smiled weakly. She heard a telephone ringing. At first, because of the stillness of the street, because sound seemed to be magnified by the heat that day, she wasn’t sure it was her phone. She listened. Persistently, the phone rang. She swung her feet over the pool’s edge and walked across the grass to the front door. Standing there, she knew the ringing was unmistakably hers. She opened the screen door and ran through the house to the bedroom. The minor exertion exhausted her. When she lifted the receiver, she was wringing wet.

“Hello?” she said.

“Mr. Cole, please. Harry Baxter is calling.”

“He just stepped out for a few minutes,” Eve said. “This is Mrs. Cole. May I take a message?”

“Just a moment, please,” the girl said. Eve waited. The girl came back onto the line. “Mr. Baxter will speak with you,” she said. “One moment.” Again Eve waited.

“Hello, Eve?” Baxter said, his voice booming cheerily onto the line.

“Hello, Mr. Baxter,” Eve said warmly. “How are you?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“And Mrs. Baxter?”

“In the pink. It’s good to talk to you, Eve. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

Eve laughed, not knowing whether or not an answer was expected of her.

“Why don’t you come in with that man of yours sometime, and we’ll have dinner together, the four of us?”

“I’d love to,” Eve said.

“How about today?”

“We’re going to the beach. It’s insufferable here. How is it in the city?”

“Worse,” Baxter said, “but I’m sitting here with air conditioning all around me.”

“Oh, lucky lucky man.”

“Why not come in after the beach? We’ll have a late dinner.”

“That’s awfully nice,” Eve said, “but we’ll probably be exhausted. Couldn’t we make it some other night?”

“Certainly,” Baxter said. “I suppose I’m being a little overanxious.”

Eve smiled and said nothing, not knowing what he meant.

“But,” Baxter went on, “time’s getting a little short, you know.”

“Yes,” Eve said, and then wondered why she had agreed with him. Time was getting a little short for what?

“So forgive my impatience, will you?”

“All right,” she said, puzzled.

“How do you feel about it, Eve?”

“We’re happy to come in anytime,” she said. “Just give us a little notice so we can get a sitter.”

“What?” Baxter said.

“Didn’t you mean...?”

Baxter chuckled. “No, no, I was talking about Puerto Rico.” He paused. “Or are you just being a shrewd business-woman?”

“Oh, Puerto Rico,” Eve said laughing.

“Yes. How do you feel about it?”

“Well, I think it’s wonderful you liked Larry’s ideas. Has construction started yet?”

There was a long pause.

Baxter chuckled and then said, “Oh, Eve, Eve, I’m too old to play this sort of game.”

“What?”

“Can I count on Larry, or can’t I?”

“What?” she said again.

“The offer I made him,” Baxter said.

“The...” She stopped. Despite the heat, she felt suddenly cold. With terrifying intuition, she realized that Baxter knew something she did not know. The instant question that leaped into her mind was “ What offer?” With remarkable restraint, she kept it off her tongue. Instead, she said, “Oh, yes, the offer.”

“What did you think of it?”

“Well, I... uh... I... I’d rather not say. Larry might... uh... want to tell you himself.”

“Uh-oh,” Baxter said. “That sounds bad.”

“No, no,” she said hastily. “It’s just I... I don’t like to meddle in business.”

“But doesn’t the idea of island planning excite you?”

“Island...” She felt weak all at once. She hoped she would not faint. She clung to the receiver as if it alone held her erect. “Yes, it... it excites me.”

“This is a wonderful opportunity for Larry, Eve. I wouldn’t try to fool you. There are a hundred architects in the country who’d cut off their arms to be my assistant on this project.”

“The... the island planning for... for Puerto Rico, you mean?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Your assistant,” she said blankly.

“Yes. Or didn’t you like Puerto Rico?”

“No, I liked it.”

“What is it then? It can’t be taking the kids out of school that’s bothering you. Your eldest is just going into the first grade, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he... he...”

“Wouldn’t you want to go down there with the family?”

“I... I don’t know. It isn’t that,” she said, the size of the offer finally overwhelming her, the importance of it, the enormity of it, and the fact that Larry had not even mentioned it to her. Why, why, why? “You’d better... you’d better talk to Larry. Shall I ask him to call you back?”

“Eve, convince him for me, will you?”

“Yes, yes, I...”

“If you haven’t already.”

“No. I’ll ask him to call you. He’ll call you, Mr. Baxter. I hear one of the children. I have to hang up.”

“Don’t let him miss out on this, Eve. He deserves the opportunity to show what he can really do.”

“Yes. Goodbye, Mr. Baxter. He’ll call you.”

She hung up abruptly, and then collapsed in the chair alongside the phone, feeling certain she would faint. She knew there would be an argument when Larry returned to the house. She did not want an argument, and she told herself, He must have a very good reason, he must, he must, he would not withhold something as important as this from me unless he has a terribly good and valid reason, but she knew there would be an argument. She knew because while she told herself there was a good reason behind Larry’s strange behavior, she simultaneously thought, He has another woman.