The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [117]
It was swell out, just cool enough, with the park air smelling sort of cool; and the trees were green and leafy, their shadows falling in solid black now as it got dark. He looked at her again, then up at a tree, and in back of him; she must be catching on that he had to keep looking at her. What a sweet piece she must be!
She told Paulie about the new set of dishes she wanted; he didn’t seem to be interested; Studs thought that part of things should be taken care of by the wife, and she shouldn’t bother the guy about it. Same way at home, the old lady always had to tell the old man what she’d buy, and he didn’t want to hear it.
“Going to have a football team in the fall, Studs?” Paulie asked, ignoring her as she harped about dishes.
“I think so. Looks like it will be pretty good.”
Maybe Paulie would say something to let her know he’d be captain and quarterback, and that he was one damn sweet football player. Next fall, she might even come out to one of the games and see for herself how good he was.
“You’re not going to play, Paul?” she said, entreating.
“No.”
They walked along on the path that led from the entrance, and curved around to the left, past the boathouse.
Studs used to like to talk to Paulie; now, with his wife around, there didn’t seem anything to talk about, and it didn’t mean much; it was like stabbing in the dark to reach something when there was nothing to reach. Paulie was different.
“Think you’ll be getting married?” Paulie asked, and Studs saw that his wife smiled condescendingly.
“No,” Studs said, luckily checking himself from putting a “hell” first; he’d just thought that it had its advantages, but then the way it kept a guy from his pals, the arguing, the kids later on, the time to come when your wife wouldn’t be a hot hunk any more; there were both sides to it.
“You’ll tumble some day,” Paulie said in the voice of experience.
“No danger,” Studs insisted, dismayed by her steady smile.
“It’s always the ones talking like you who fall the hardest,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“You’ll fall!” Paulie said confidently.
Studs enjoyed being the center of conversation like that. If it kept on, Paulie might say something like, how’s Lucy, or, why don’t you marry Lucy? Of course, he’d answer he didn’t want to, but he didn’t know if he did or not. And he’d shrug his shoulders don’t-care-like when Eileen would ask who Lucy was, and Paulie would say she was a nice girl, Studs’ girl. The whole business suddenly seemed goofy. Still, he waited to hear Paulie mention her name.
“Yes, Studs, some morning you’ll just wake up to find yourself married.”
He forced another laugh. He tried to think of himself settling down with a wife. Himself getting up in the morning, kissing her, sitting down to be served breakfast, eating supper with her; himself coming home one night and telling the family he was going to be married, looking Fran in the face when he said it. He was glad he wasn’t going through that kind of thing yet. But having a woman! Fellows saying Studs’ woman. That was all right. Thinking about it, at least, was. They’d kid him, but it would only be fun and half jealousy on their part. Himself coming home in winter, she taking his shoes off, putting his slippers on, sitting and watching him with love while he read, doing things for him, and then, when it was cold out, going to bed, he taking her clothes off, she taking his off, getting all warmed up together. That would be better than hanging around the poolroom. But then, if she nagged! He had time, and there were both sides of it.
“Why so quiet?” asked Paulie.
“Ope, just looking around, and thinking about the team we’ll have in