Mildred Pierce - James M. Cain [65]
The twanging voice, the voice that Mildred had hated, twanged on, and Mildred responded to it with a tingle that started in her heart and spread out through the rest of her. Her nerve came back, her hands recovered their skill, as things began moving again. She was pouring a waffle when Mrs. Gessler 'appeared at the door, and came tiptoeing over to her. "Anything I can do, baby?"
"I don't think so, Lucy. Thanks just the—"
"Oh yes there is."
Ida seized Mrs. Gessler by the arm as she usually seized the members of her command. "You can take off that hat and get out there and sell pies. Don't bother them while they're eating but stay near the showcase and when they get through see what you can do."
"I'll be doing my best."
"Containers in the drawer under the case, they're out flat and you'll have to fold them, then tie them up and put the carrying handles on. If you have any trouble, just call for me or ask Mildred."
"What's the price, Mildred?"
"Eighty-five cents. Everything's eighty-five cents."
Mrs. Gessler laid her hat beside Ida's and went out. Soon Mildred saw her come back, lay a dollar bill in the tin box, take change, and go out. In a short time she saw many bills in the box, as Ida repeatedly came in, made change, and sent Arline out with it, so she would get her tip. When she had a lull, she slipped off her apron and went out. Nobody was standing now, but every seat was filled, and she, felt as she had felt yesterday, at the funeral, when she walked through the living room and saw all those half-remembered faces. These were people she hadn t seen in years, people reached by Wally's clever system of mailing. She spoke to , them, asked if everything was all right, received their congratulations, and from a few, words of sympathy about Ray.
It was well after eight when she heard another car door slam. Bert, Wally, and Veda had adjourned their meeting, on Ida's invitation, to the running board of Wally's car, and for some time she had heard them talking out there, while she worked. But now, as a foot crunched on the gravel, the conversation stopped, and then Veda burst in the back door. "Mother! Guess who just came in!"
"Who was it, darling?"
"Monty Beragon!"
Mildred's heart skipped a beat, and she looked at Veda sharply. But Veda's shining eyes didn't suggest knowledge of scandal, so cautiously she asked: "And who is Monty Beragon?"
"Oh, Mother, don't you know?"
"I guess not."
"He plays polo for Midwick, and he lives in Pasadena, and he's rich, and good-looking, and all the girls just wait for his picture to come out in the paper. He's—keen!"
It was the first she had known that Monty was anybody in particular, but she was too busy to be excited much. Veda began dancing up and down, and Bert came in, followed by Wally, who looked as though he had just beheld God. "Sa-a-a-a-ay! If that guy's here, Mildred, you're in! Why there's not a restaurant in L. A. that wouldn't pay him to eat there. Isn't that so, Bert?"
"He's very well-known."
"Known? Hell, he's a shot."
Arline came in, from the dining room. "One waf."
Veda went to the out door, peeped, and disappeared into the dining room. Wally began speculating as to how Monty knew about the opening. He wasn't on any list, and it seemed unlikely he had seen the Glendale papers. Bert, with some irritation, said that Mildred's reputation as a cook had spread far and wide, and that seemed sufficient reason, at least to him,, without doing any fancy sleuthing about it. Wally said by God he had a notion to find out, when all of a sudden he was standing there with open mouth, and