The Wapshot Chronicle - John Cheever [113]
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s the nicest invitation anyone’s ever given me,” Josie said, and she got up and kissed Betsey and then Coverly and linked her arm in Max’s. Max held his hand out to Coverly and Betsey kissed Josie again and they said good night—softly, softly for it was late then, it was after two o’clock and theirs were the only lights burning in the circle.
Josie didn’t call Betsey in the morning and when Betsey tried to call her friend either the line was busy or no one answered, but Betsey was too absorbed in the preparations for the party to care much. She bought a new dress and some glasses and napkins and on the night before the party she and Coverly ate supper in the kitchen in order to keep the dining space clean. Coverly had to work on Saturday and he didn’t get home until after five. Everything was ready for the party. Betsey had not put on her new dress yet and was still wearing her bathrobe with her hair in pins but she was excited and happy and when she kissed Coverly she told him to hurry and take his bath. The table was set with one of the cloths, the old candlesticks and the blue china from West Farm. There were dishes of nuts and other things to eat with cocktails on all the tables. Betsey had laid out Coverly’s clothes and he took a shower and was dressing when the telephone rang. “Yes, dear,” Coverly heard Betsey say. “Yes, Josie. Oh. Oh, then you mean you can’t come. I see. Yes, I see. Well, what about tomorrow night? Why don’t we put it off until tomorrow night? I see, oh I see. Well, why don’t you come tonight for just a little while? We can bundle Max up in blankets and you could leave right after dinner if you wanted. I see. I see. Yes, I see. Well, good-by. Yes, good by.”
Betsey was sitting on the sofa when Coverly came back to the living room. Her hands were in her lap, her face was haggard and wet with tears. “They can’t come,” she said. “Max is sick and has a cold and they can’t come.” Then a loud sob broke from her but when Coverly sat down and put an arm around her she resisted him. “For two days I haven’t done anything but work and think about my party,” she cried. “I haven’t done anything else for two days. I wanted to have a party. I just wanted to have a nice little party. That’s all I wanted.”
Coverly kept telling her that it didn’t matter and gave her a glass of sherry and then she decided to call the Frascatis. “All I want now is to have a little party,” she said, “and I have all this food and maybe the Frascatis would like to come. They haven’t been very neighborly but maybe that’s because they’re foreigners. I’m going to ask the Frascatis.”
“Why don’t we forget the whole thing?” Coverly said. “We can eat our supper or take in a movie or something. We can have a good time together.”
“I’m going to ask the Frascatis,” Betsey said, and she went to the telephone. “This is Betsey Wapshot,” she said cheerfully, “and I’ve meant to call you again and again but I’ve been a bad neighbor, I’m afraid. We’ve been so busy since we’ve moved in that I haven’t had the time and I’m ashamed of myself for having been such a bad neighbor but I just wondered if you and your husband wouldn’t like to come over tonight and have supper with us.”
“Thank you but we already had supper,” Mrs. Frascatti said. She hung up.
Then Coverly heard Betsey calling the Galens. “This is Betsey Wapshot,” she said, “and I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner because I’ve wanted to know you better but I wondered if you and your husband would like to come over tonight for supper.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Mrs. Galen said, “but the Tellermans—I think they’re friends of yours—Max Tellerman’s young brother has just come home from college and they’re bringing him over to see us.”
Betsey hung up. “Hypocrite,” she sobbed. “Hypocrite. Oh she’d break her back, wouldn’t she to get in good with the Galens and she just wouldn’t tell me, her best friend,