—
In the early evening, the concierge called to tell us that Hank was waiting for us in the lobby bar.
Ellis and I were no longer speaking, a result of my suggestion that he talk to his mother and try to pave the way for a truce. We rode the elevator in silence.
The boys drank bourbon sidecars, and I ordered a gin fizz. A few drinks in, as Ellis and I took turns recounting the disastrous repercussions of the party, the freeze began to thaw. Soon, we were finishing each other’s sentences and apologizing with our eyes. We were in the same mess, facing the same consequences. Although I was willing to capitulate sooner, it was just a tactical difference. We were upset with our situation, not each other.
I reached my foot out under the table and ran it lightly down his calf. His eyes brightened, and the edges of his mouth lifted into a smile.
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea of your mother shouting,” said Hank. “Are you sure it was your mother? The same Edith Stone Hyde I’ve known all these years?”
“The very one. And it was more like a hooting,” said Ellis. “An overtaxed owl.”
“A broken-down woodwind,” I added. “Frail, yet screechy.”
“I’d have paid good money to see that,” said Hank, lighting a cigarette.
“I wish I’d known,” said Ellis. “I’d have offered you my seat.”
“Do you really think the Colonel and your mother had an affair?” Hank asked, blowing a series of smoke rings.
“Of course not,” I said. “My gorgon of a mother-in-law extrapolated that because at some point she caught him looking at her, which I’m sure he did. Everybody did.”
“Yes, but he also defended her,” Hank pointed out. “To his wife.”
“So maybe he carried a little torch for her,” I said, “which still means nothing, because who didn’t? She had that effect on people.”
“Not your father,” Hank continued. “I never did understand why she married him. She could have had anybody she liked. Gorgeous, pedigreed, a bank account the size of Montana…I can’t imagine why she allowed herself to get hitched to an old fart like your father.”
“She wasn’t pedigreed,” I said, throwing him a dirty look. Hank knew perfectly well that my mother had married up.
Hank looked outraged. “Of course she was pedigreed…in the Levee District!” He broke down, cackling at his own joke.
“Ha ha,” I said flatly.
“No offense, darling girl. Money is its own pedigree. But back on topic, what if it’s true? Maybe that’s why your mother-in-law was so hell-bent against the two of you getting married. Maybe,” he said, waving his cigarette in circles, “you’re brother and sister.”
Ellis and I burst into simultaneous groans of disgust.
“Hank, that’s not even remotely funny! Please. My mother did not have an affair with the Colonel.”
“How can you be so sure?” Hank went on. “Maybe that’s the reason your mother-in-law encouraged him to go monster hunting. To get him out of harm’s way, so to speak.”
“I’m sure she just wanted him out of the way, period,” I said. “She probably packed his bags. She probably booked his passage.”
“You’re both forgetting that it was his idea,” said Ellis. “He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I’m surprised he didn’t leave a Colonel-shaped hole in the front door on the way out. Can hardly blame him, though.”
“She is a trial,” I said.
“She’s worse than that,” said Ellis, looking suddenly grim.
Hank leaned back in his chair and cocked an eyebrow. He looked first at Ellis, and then at me. “Your drinks are empty. Let me remedy that.” He snapped his fingers over his head until he got the attention of the bartender, then pointed at the glasses.
Ellis stared into his depleted drink, poking the ice cubes with his swizzle stick.
“So,” Hank said, rubbing his hands together. “Given the circumstances, I think you’ll be even more pleased to hear my news.”
“Unless you’re about to tell me my father dropped dead, I highly doubt it,” Ellis said without looking up.
The waiter delivered fresh drinks. Ellis pulled his toward him, picked up the new swizzle stick, and went back to stabbing ice.
“Maddie, darling?” Hank said expectantly.
I sighed before dutifully asking, “What news?”
“I’ve found us passage.”
“Passage to where?” I asked in the same disinterested voice.
I knew full well what he was talking about, and was trying to convey that I didn’t want to play, and was quite sure that Ellis didn’t either.
“You know,” Hank said with a coy smile.
I went for the direct approach. “Hank, we’re not in the mood right now. That’s what got us into this pickle in the first place.”
“Then get in the mood. We leave in three days.”
I put my drink down and took stock of his demeanor. He was deadpan, yet clearly pleased with himself.
“You’re not serious,” I said.
“I’m in absolute earnest,” he replied.
“But it’s impossible. There are no liners running.”
“Connections, Maddie, connections,” he said with a flourish. “We’re going on a Liberty ship. The SS Mallory, a freighter taking supplies. It’s part of a convoy. And speaking of supplies, stock up on cigarettes and stockings, both nylon and silk. International currency, if you will.”
His continued straight face began to worry me.
“Hank, this isn’t funny.”
“It’s not meant to be.”