A Cup of Tea - Amy Ephron [5]
“And you know,” said Rosemary laughing, “how much I like to arrange things.”
Philip smiled because he knew that every detail of the wedding mattered to her. “Would you excuse us, Jane? Miss Smith?” he asked looking once more at Miss Smith as he said it.
Rosemary answered for them. “Of course, they would.” She followed Philip out of the room.
The rain was still beating steadily outside. Jane Howard walked over to the fireplace and took a cigarette off the mantel. She offered one to Eleanor. “Would you like one?” she asked.
Miss Smith narrowed her eyes. “I’d love one, thanks,” she said almost languidly. And, in that moment, it appeared she might not be as innocent as she seemed.
Philip shut the door behind them to the library. “What gives?” he asked.
Rosemary came over and kissed him playfully on the mouth. “What do you mean, what gives?”
“Who is she?” Philip asked. “Where did you find her?”
“Could you tell, then?” said Rosemary laughing. “I picked her up.”
Rosemary walked over to the fire. There was a mirror in a large wood frame behind them on the mantel. Rosemary looked at herself in the glass for a moment and at Philip standing behind her. She turned to him.
“That is what I did.” She was sort of pleased with herself. It was like something in a Dostoyevsky story, to pick a girl up in the dusk and bring her home. “I found her on the corner of Greenwich,” she said. “I don’t know. You read about these things. And I just did it.”
“And now what do you plan to do?” asked Philip. This wasn’t the reaction she had expected. “You can’t just pick someone up like that. And, then what?”
“I don’t know,” said Rosemary. “We haven’t talked yet. Be nice to her. Be awfully nice to her. Show her—make her feel—”
Philip cut her off. “I’m not sure it can be done.”
“Why not?…” said Rosemary, pouting again. “I want to. I decided—”
“She is so astonishingly pretty,” he said.
“Pretty?” said Rosemary. “Do you think so? I hadn’t thought of it.” She turned and looked at her own face in the mirror for a moment. Philip looked at her reflection, as well.
“She’s absolutely lovely,” he insisted. “Take a look at her again.” Rosemary turned to him. “I was knocked out by her when I came into your room just now. Even so, I think you’re making a mistake.” He laughed and said, “But let me know if Miss Smith is going to dine with us tonight.”
Rosemary searched his face for a moment before she gave a small laugh back. “I will, Philip,” she said.
Rosemary left the library but did not go immediately to her bedroom. She walked instead to the little sitting room upstairs where she kept her papers and wrote notes in the morning. Pretty! Absolutely lovely! I was knocked out by her when I walked into the room! She sat at the Victorian desk. Her cheeks were flushed. She reached for her chequebook. But cheques would be no use. She opened the desk drawer and took out fifteen one-dollar bills, and after a moment’s contemplation, put three back, folded the others neatly and tucked them in the pocket of her skirt.
Eleanor and Jane were deep in conversation when she walked back into the room. Jane was laughing. Rosemary cut them off. “Jane, would you be a dear and check on Philip?”
Jane stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray. “Of course,” she said. Rosemary liked to run things in her own house and Jane Howard rarely questioned her. “It was awfully nice to have met you,” she said to Eleanor, gave a small wave, and left the room.
Rosemary walked into the closet and hurriedly went through some things. She came out of the closet carrying an overcoat.
“I think the rain is stopping,” she said to Eleanor.
Eleanor sat up on the couch. She knew what this meant.
Rosemary pressed the coat on her.
“No, take it,” said Rosemary as the girl reached a hand up to protest. “I never wear the thing. It isn’t new.” Not that anything Rosemary had was old, probably only been worn a couple of times. “I’ve put some money in the pocket. No, don’t say a word. If the tables were turned,