Last Night - James Salter [27]
— Darling, you must be crazy, he said in a furious, low voice when he reached her.
— Hello, she said cheerfully.
There was always such life in that voice.
— What are you doing? he insisted.
— What do you mean?
— The earrings!
— I’m wearing them, she said.
— You can’t wear them. That was my father-in-law. He bought them! He gave them to Sally! Why did you wear them here?
His voice was still low but people close by could hear the anxiety.
— How was I to know? Pamela said.
— Jesus, I knew I shouldn’t have lent them to you.
— Oh, take the damned earrings, she said, suddenly annoyed.
— Don’t do that.
She was taking them off. It was the first time he had seen her angry and suddenly he was frightened, afraid to be in her disfavor.
— Don’t, please. I’m the one who should be angry, he said.
She pushed them into his hand.
— And yes, she said, he saw them. Then, with astounding confidence, Don’t worry, he won’t say anything.
— What do you mean? What makes you so sure? The answer suddenly struck him like an illness.
— Don’t worry, he won’t, she said.
Somebody was handing her a glass of wine.
— Thank you, she said calmly. This is Brian, a friend of mine. Brian, this is Tahar.
She did not answer the phone that night. The next day, his father-in-law called and asked to meet for lunch, it was important.
They met at a restaurant Brule favored, with formal service and a European-looking clientele. It was near his office. Brule was reading the menu when Brian arrived. He looked up. His glasses, which were rimless, caught the light in a way that made his eyes almost invisible.
— I’m glad you were able to come, he said, returning to the menu.
Brian made an effort to read the menu himself. He made some remark about not having had a chance to say hello the night before.
— I was extremely disturbed by what I learned last night, Brule said, as if not having heard.
The waiter stood reciting some dishes that were not on the menu. Brian was preparing his reply, but after they had ordered, it was Brule who continued.
— Your behavior isn’t worthy of the husband of my daughter, he said.
— I don’t know if you’re in a position to say that, Brian managed.
— Please don’t interrupt me. Let me finish. You’ll have your chance afterward. I discover that you’ve been having an affair with a young woman—I’m aware of the details, believe me—and if you place any value at all on your wife and family, I would say you have put that in grave jeopardy. If Sally were to learn of it, I’m certain she would leave you and, under the circumstances, probably retain custody, and I would support her in that. Fortunately, she doesn’t know, so there is still the possibility of this not being disastrous, providing you do the necessary thing.
There was a pause. It was as if Brian had been asked a bewildering question, the answer to which he should know. His thoughts were fluttering, however, ungraspable.
— What thing is that? he said, though knowing.
— You give up this girl and never see her again.
This wonderful girl, this smooth-shouldered girl.
— And what about you? Brian said as evenly as he could.
Brule ignored it.
— Otherwise, Brule continued, I’m loathe to think of it, Sally will have to know.
Brian’s jaw, despite his effort, was trembling. It was not only humiliation, there was a burning jealousy. His father-in-law seemed to hold every advantage. The manicured hands had touched her, the aging body had been imposed on hers. Some plates were served but Brian did not pick up his fork.
— She wouldn’t be the only one to know, would she? Pascale would know everything, too, he said.
— If you mean you would try to implicate me, I can only say that would be futile and foolish.
— But you wouldn’t be able to deny it, Brian said stubbornly.
— I’d most certainly deny it. It would just be seen as a frantic