Mildred Pierce - James M. Cain [129]
It was all for her.
Veda began it, but when she finished it, or whether she finished it, Mildred never quite knew. Little quivers went through her and they kept going through her the rest of the night, during the supper party, when Veda sat with the white scarf wound around her throat, during the brief half hour, while she undressed Veda, and put the costume away; in the dark, while she 'lay there alone, trying to sleep, n'ot wanting to sleep.
This was the climax of Mildred's life.
It was also the climax, or would have been if she hadn't got it postponed, of a financial catastrophe that had been piling up on her since the night she so blithely agreed to take the house off Mrs. Beragon's hands for $30,000, and pay the tax lien of $3,100. She had expected, when she made that arrangement, to do the major part of the financing through the Federal Homes Administration, about which 'she had heard. She received her first jolt when she paid a visit to this authority, and found it made no loans of more than $16,000. She had to have at least $20,000, and wanted $25,000. She received 'another jolt when she went to her bank. It was willing to lend her whatever she wanted, seemed to regard her as an excellent risk, but refused to lend anything at all until repairs were made to the property, particularly in the way of a new roof.
Up to then, she had known there would be outlays, but thought of them vaguely as "a couple of thousand to put the place in order, and a few thousand to furnish it." After the bank's report, however, she had to consider whether it wouldn't be better to give the place a complete overhaul, so that she would have a property that somebody might conceivably want to buy, instead of a monstrosity. That was when Monty was called into consultation. She didn't tell him about the financial problem, but she was delighted when he hit on the plan of restoring the house to what it had been before Beragon, Sr., put into effect his bizarre ideas for improvement. But while this satisfied the bank, and qualified her for a $25,000 loan, it cost upwards of $5,000, and cleaned out her personal cash. For the furnishings, she had to sell bonds. When she married Monty he had to 'have a car, or she thought he had. This meant $1,200 more. To get the money, and cover one or two other things that had 'come up by then, she dipped into the reserves of the corporation. She drew herself a check for $2,500 and marked it "bonus." But she didn't use a check 'from the big checkbook used by Miss Jaeckel, the lady she employed to keep the books. She used one of 'the blanks 'she always carried in her handbag, in case of emergency. She kept saying to herself that she must tell Miss Jaeckel about the check, but she didn't do it. Then, in December of 1939, to take 'care of Christmas expenses, she gave herself another bonus of $2,500, so that by the first of the year there was a difference of $5,000 between'what Miss Jaeckel's books showed and what the bank was actually carrying on deposit.
But these large outlays were only part of her difficulties. The bank, to her surprise, insisted on amortization of her loan as well as regular interest payments, so that to the $125 a month in carrying charges were added $250 in reduction charges, a great deal more than she had anticipated. Then Monty, when he sold her Kurt and Frieda at $150 a month, put her to somewhat heavier expenses in the kitchen than she had expected. Then the endless guests, all of whom seemed to have the thirst of a caravan of camels, ran up the bill for household entertainment to an appalling figure. The result was that 'she was compelled to increase her salary from the corporation. Until then, she had allowed herself $75 a week from each of the corporation's four component parts: the Pie Wagon, the pie factory, the Beverly restaurant, and the Laguna restaurant, or $300 a week in all. This was so grotesquely in excess of her 'living