Whisper Their Love by Valerie Taylor Read Free Book Online Page B

warning look and said, "Sloe gin, weak." Joyce felt irritated because she was being treated like a child, then weepy because someone cared about her. She feels responsible for me, she thought.
    The drink was pink and very cold; it tasted flat. "You don't feel it till later," Irv said.
    She started to laugh, but her arms and legs felt as if they were falling off, and her head was queer. You can't get drunk on one drink, she assured herself, not remembering to count the excitement and the loss of sleep the night before, the smoke and noise and the impact of solid food on an empty stomach. She stared fixedly at the bass drum until feeling came back and her head cleared. "It's hot in here," she said, smiling at Irv.
    A baggy-eyed comedian came on and told some jokes, mostly smutty and not too well timed, and then there was a hot number by the band, and then a ballerina came on. Very young, very light, she went through a pas seul to a tinkling music-box tune, and suddenly Joyce felt a tear slide down her nose. The woman at the next table was really crying, tears plowing through her make-up and smearing her lashes.
    * * *
    Nobody said anything, going home. Mimi leaned against Irv's shoulder, not amorously but sleepily. The shadows under her eyes had deepened and she had licked off most of her lipstick. Irv's eyes were as bright as ever and his full lips curved alertly. I wish I knew him better, Joyce thought; I bet he'd be fun to know, but I don't mean a thing to him. Her own indignation suddenly seemed comic to her and she snickered. What do you want him to do, throw his arms around you and holler, "My daughter!" He's taken you out and spent a lot of money on you; the least you can do is be grateful. Besides, he doesn't look like a fatherly type.
    Mimi staggered a little, getting her long skirt out of the taxi. Irv steadied her. "Wake up, baby, we're home." He shook her gently, and she pulled herself together, reflex of many a groggy morning on the road, and marched up the walk with her head high. Joyce noticed sleepily that Irv unlocked the door, taking the key from an expensive-looking pigskin holder. It's none of my business, she told the accusing shade of Aunt Gen. He pays the rent. They're getting married tomorrow. I wonder if he'll stay all night? She felt a queer embarrassment, and a tingling excitement she had never known before.
    "I feel like hell," Mimi complained.
    "Take a phenobarb," Irv advised her. He followed her into the bathroom, leaving Joyce perched uncertainly on one of the small straight chairs. She could hear the murmur of voices, the running of water, the slamming of a cabinet door. After what seemed like an endless time Irv came back. "Poor kid, she feels terrible. She'll be okay in the morning, though." They looked at each other uncertainly.
    Joyce felt that she ought to say something, some kind of thanks for the evening. Mention the school fees, too. It's so good of you to spend all this money on me, I feel so grateful. The creaking of the bed in the next room distracted her from her dilemma. "Is she very sick?"
    Irv shrugged. He looked embarrassed. "Aw, you know how it is. Lots of women feel pretty punk the first few weeks." He waited for her to answer. She didn't know what to say. "Well, hell," he said defensively, "she did it on purpose. You don't put anything over on that baby; she's been around." He glanced at his watch. "I was pretty burned," he said. "Me, getting hooked by the oldest racket in the world! Then I got to thinking, hell, a man gets up in the forties he sort of wants to settle down. Have a home and some kids." He looked at Joyce, who remained silent and blank with astonishment. "I'm marrying her," he said, sounding a little angry. "Christ, not every guy would be that decent about it."
    Two tears trickled down Joyce's cheeks and fell. She felt, suddenly, tired and very sad. Irv patted her on the shoulder. "Don't feel like that, kid. I figured she told you. Happens all the time."
    Now that