slippery horsehair furniture, and Marcia was passing a tray of cocktails.
“Oh, hello, Betsy. Come in,” said Marcia. “I believe you know everybody, don’t you?”
“Of course.” Betsy exchanged greetings with Pauline Semmes, Anne Gray, Bobbie Prior and Steve Ellis. They were all several years older than she; Bobbie and Steve had been recently discharged from the service.
As Marcia took the cocktail tray to the kitchen, Betsy followed her, protesting in a low voice, “But, Marcia, I don’t think Pete wants to see — I mean, to meet — people, yet.”
“Then Peter is a very silly boy,” said Marcia. “It’s high time he was meeting people. It will be good for him; he can’t crawl into a hole, and pull the hole in after him — not unless he wants to get warped and morbid. I invited Steve and Bobbie and their dates because they’re just out of the Army, and veterans always like to trade experiences.”
“Experiences!” exclaimed Betsy, furiously. “Bobbie Prior spent his eighteen months in this country, at a desk job; and Steve Ellis broke his foot in the first six months of basic training and never got closer to combat duty — ”
“Is that their fault?” Marcia asked, and there was an edge to her voice. “You’re being very silly, Betsy. Shall we go back and join the others?”
Without waiting for an answer, Marcia pushed open the door and crossed the dining room to the living room, where the others were laughing and talking.
Betsy felt hot and uncomfortable. Marcia’s curtness had surprised her and she was resentful. She was convinced that Pete would not have come to dinner tonight if he had been told that there were going to be other guests.
When the sound of a car in the drive announced the arrival of Peter and his mother, Marcia went on talking to Bobbie Prior, although Betsy felt that she should have gone to the door to greet her guests. But the door stood open in the friendly, hospitable way that all doors stood open in Centerville throughout the summer, and a moment later Peter and his mother came into the hall.
Marcia met them at the doorway, and Peter’s smile flashed warmly at her.
She slid her hand through his arm and steered him into the living room, saying, “I think you know everybody here — Pauline Semmes, Anne Gray, Bobbie Prior, and Steve Ellis.”
Betsy held her breath, her eyes on Peter’s face, ready to read the first flicker of an expression that would show her he hated coming face to face with people. Instead, she saw his face light up with a smile. She heard the warmth of his voice and saw the firmness with which he shook hands with the two men.
“I hear you’ve been to a war, fella!” said Bobbie cheerfully, and there was nothing in his voice to indicate the pity revealed in his eyes. “What was it like?”
Pete grinned. “Oh, not much fun. I’ve enjoyed other things more.”
“So I can imagine,” said Bobbie. “Tough luck, fella!”
“Oh, it could have been worse. At least I got back,” said Peter, and Betsy felt tears dropping in her heart.
“Well, it wasn’t much fun where I was, either,” said Steve. Although his voice rang a little with a false gaiety, it was apparent that Peter was not too critical. “Of course, with the wound I got — ”
“You were hit?” asked Pete.
Bobbie chuckled. “Don’t start handing Steve any Purple Hearts. He tripped over his gun at maneuvers and broke his foot! He fought the battle of a military hospital. The only engagements he ever got tangled up in were with the pretty nurses!”
“Pay him no mind. The guy’s jealous because he wasn’t as smart as I was,” said Steve, grinning.
“Have you ever seen this living room, Peter?” asked Marcia.
“No — they tell me it’s something out of this world,” answered Peter. Betsy, still watching him, thought she saw a tautness about his mouth.
“Well, it really should be seen to be believed,” Marcia assured him, lightly casual. “But I’ll do
David Cook, Walter (CON) Velez