Mildred Pierce - James M. Cain [81]
Now, as she got up and dressed, she had a sour recollection of the harangue, and a still sourer recollection of the four $1 0's that had followed their predecessors down a bottomless rathole. She had given Letty the day off, so she went to the kitchen, made herself coffee, and drank it black. Then, hearing Veda's water running, she knew she had to hurry. She went to her bedroom, got a pile of packages out of the closet, and took them to the living room. Quickly she arranged a neat display around the base of the tree that had already been set up and decorated. Then she took out her own offering and looked at it. It was a wrist watch. She had put off buying it until the last moment, hoping the profits from the bar would permit her to order the piano anyway. But the unforeseen 'had again intervened. During the first hectic days of Repeal, Mrs. Gessler had a devil's own time finding liquor, and for much of it had to pay cash. So the hope died, and at the last minute, Mildred had dashed downtown and bought this gaud for $75. She listened close and heard its tiny tick, but it didn't sound much like a grand piano. Glumly she wrapped it, wrote a little card, tucked it under the ribbon. Then she set it beside the package from Bert.
She had hardly stood up to survey the general effect when there came a tap on the door, and Veda, in her most syrupy Christmas voice, asked: "May I come in?" Mildred managed a soft smile, and opened the door. Suddenly Veda was smothering her with kisses, wishing a merry Christmas to "you darling, darling Mother!" Then, just as suddenly, the kisses stopped and so did the greetings. Veda was staring at the Pierce upright, and by the look on her face Mildred knew she had been told about the grand, by Bert, by Monty, by the cashier at the bank, by somebody—and had expected to see it there, as a fine surprise, this Christmas morning.
Mildred licked her lips, opened her mouth to make explanations, but at the cold look on Veda's face, she couldn't. Nervously she said something about there being a great many presents, and hadn't Veda better make a list, so she would be sure who sent what? Veda made no reply, but stooped down and began pulling ribbons. When she got to the wrist watch she examined it with casual interest, laid it aside without comment. At this Mildred went back to her bedroom, lay down on the bed, tried to stop trembling. The trembling went on. Presently the bell rang, and she heard Bert's voice. Going to the living room again, she was in time to hear Veda ecstatically thank him for the riding boots he had given her, and call him "you darling, darling father." A little scene ensued, with Bert saying the boots could be exchanged if they weren't the right fit, and Veda trying them on. They were perfect, said Veda, and she wasn't going to take them off all day. She was even going to sleep in them.
But Veda never once looked at Mildred, and the trembling kept on. In a few minutes Mildred asked Bert if he was ready, and he said any time she was. They went to the kitchen for the flowers they were going to put on Ray's grave, but Bert quickly closed the door. Jerking his thumb toward the living room he asked: "What's the matter with her? She sick?"
"It's about the piano. What with the bar and one thing and another I couldn't get it. This Christmas, I mean. But somebody kindly tipped her off."
"Not me."
"I didn't say so."
"What did you give her?"
"A wrist watch. It was a nice watch, a little one, the kind they're all wearing, and you'd think she'd at least—"
But the trembling had reached Mildred's mouth by now, and she couldn't finish. Bert put his arm around her, patted her. Then he asked: "Is she coming with us?"
"I don't know."
They went out the back door to get the car out of' the garage, and Mildred drove. As they were backing down the drive, Bert told her to hold it. Then, lightly, he tapped the horn. After a few seconds, he tapped it again. There was no response from the house.