Mildred Pierce - James M. Cain [133]
"Veda has to kick in."
They had driven to San Fernando, to Van Nuys, to Beverly, to the ocean, and were now in a little all-night cock'tail bar in Santa Monica. Mildred, 'breaking into tears, had told the whole story, or at least the whole story beginning with Veda's return home. The singular connection that Monty had with it, and particularly the unusual circumstances of her marriage, she conveniently left out, or perhaps she had already forgotten them. But as to recent events she was flagitiously frank, and even told about the two $2,500 checks, as yet undiscovered by Miss Jaeckel. At Bert's whistle there was a half-hour interlude, while he went into all details of this transaction, and she spoke in frightened whispers, yet gained a queer spiritual relief, as though she were speaking through the lattice of a confessional. And there was a long, happy silence after Bert said that so far as he could see, there had been no actual violation of the law. Then solemnly he added: "Not saying it wasn't pretty damn foolish."
"I know it was foolish."
"Well then—"
"You don't have to nag me."
She lifted his hand and kissed it, and then they were back to the corporation and its general problem. It could only be solved, he had insisted, through Veda. Now, on his second highball, he was even more of that opinion. "She's the one that's costing you money, and she's the one that's making money. She's got to pay her share."
"I never wanted her to know."
"I never wanted her to know, either, but she found out just the same, when I hit the deck. If she'd had a little dough when Pierce Homes began to wobble, and I'd taken it, and Pierce Homes was ours right now, she'd be better off, wouldn't she?"
Mildred pressed Bert's hand, and sipped her rye, then she held his hand tight, and listened to the radio for a minute or two, as it began moaning low. She hadn't realized until then that Bert had been through all this himself, that she wasn't the only one who had suffered. Bert, in a low voice that didn't interfere with the radio, leaned forward and said: "And who the hell put that girl where she is today? Who paid for all the music? And that piano. And that car? And those clothes? And—"
"You did your share."
"Mighty little."
"You did a lot." Intermingling of Pierce Homes, Inc., with Mildred Pierce, Inc., plus a little intermingling of rye and seltzer, had brought Bert nearer to her than he had ever been before, and she was determined that justice must be done him. "You did plenty. Oh we lived very well before the 'Depression, Bert, as well as any family ever lived in this country, or any other. And a long time. Veda was eleven years when we broke up, and she's only twenty now. I've carried on nine years, but it was eleven for you."
"Eleven years and eight months."
Bert winked, and Mildred quickly clutched his hand to her cheek. "All right, eleven years and eight months, if you've got to bring that up. And I'm glad it was only eight months, how do you like that? Any boob can have a child nine months after she gets married. But when it was only eight, that proves I loved you, doesn't it?"
"Me too, Mildred."
Mildred covered his hand with kisses, and for