Let Me Tell You by Shirley Jackson Read Free Book Online

away.
    Alice’s mother was staring off at the entrance, her eyes narrow and interested, and at the same time her hand was feeling around on the table for her bag; when her hand found it, she took out her compact, still without looking, then her lipstick and comb. Finally she dropped her eyes and hurriedly opened the compact and looked at herself, touched her nose with the powder puff and her hair with the comb, turning the compact to see the sides of her hair, and then she put on a little more lipstick, and raised her eyes again to the entrance. While she looked, her hands were busy again, putting everything back into her bag and the bag back onto the table. Then suddenly she turned to Mrs. Carrington. “Look,” she said excitedly, “isn’t that Clark Gable, coming in with that party? Over
there.
” She gestured for Mrs. Carrington to look. “About three tables in back of Alice? I’m certain it is.” Mr. Carrington and Alice’s father were listening by this time; Mrs. Carrington gave one quick glance to the side.
    “It certainly does look like him,” she said.
    Alice’s father and Mr. Carrington both looked. “Sure, it’s him,” Mr. Carrington said.
    “Major Gable,” Alice’s father said, “volunteered to be a top gunner during the war.”
    “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” whispered Mrs. Carrington to Alice’s mother.
    Alice didn’t turn around, because everyone else at the table had; people all over the room were looking too, and she felt oddly conspicuous because she was so close to Mr. Gable and at a table where everyone was turning around to look.
    “How soon does the floor show start again?” she asked her father.
    “Pretty soon,” her father said absently. He was looking sideways at the famous man’s table.
    “I’ve always thought I’d like to be an actress,” Alice’s mother said gaily. Everyone laughed.
    “Look over here, Gable,” Mr. Carrington said softly, “I could use a million dollars.”
    “A man like that means glamour to a lot of people,” Alice’s father said. “Made six, eight movies with Jean Harlow!”
    “I remember you playing Romeo in college,” Alice’s mother said. She took her eyes off the nearby table for a minute and looked at Alice’s father. “You might be pretty,” she said, “but you sure can’t act.”
    Alice’s father laughed again, unhappily. “I never had a chance to learn to be an actor anyway,” he said. “By the time I was married and had a wife and baby—”
    “Shh,” Alice’s mother said, “he’s looking this way.” She looked at Mr. Carrington and smiled vivaciously. “Aren’t we silly,” she said, and threw back her head and laughed. Mrs. Carrington joined in, nudging Mr. Carrington, and Mr. Carrington sat back and guffawed. Alice’s father didn’t laugh; he sat quietly with one hand over his eyes and the other before him on the table. Alice reached out and touched his hand. When he looked up she smiled embarrassedly, and he sighed and dropped his head to his hand again. Suddenly, Alice’s mother stopped laughing and sat back in her chair. Mrs. Carrington looked around once, then picked up her glass and took a long drink from it.
    Alice’s mother said across the table to Alice’s father: “You look like you just lost your last friend.”
    Alice’s father dropped his hand from his eyes and sighed. “Just thinking,” he said.
    “About what you might have been if you hadn’t had a wife and baby?” Alice’s mother asked. Alice looked up, surprised at her mother’s voice.
    “ ‘It seems too logical…I have missed everything, even my death,’ ” Alice’s father said softly. He looked at Mrs. Carrington. “Cyrano,” he said apologetically, then laughed sadly again.
    “It’s all right,” Alice’s mother said. “He isn’t looking this way anymore.”
    “I’d like to meet that man,” Mrs. Carrington said. “He looks so intelligent.”
    Alice’s father looked up. “Alice!” he said,