Part 72 (1/2)
”Well, then, I'll give you three guesses.”
”I dunno.”
”Look--now can you?”
He showed her the top of a small, square box tied with blue cord. It bore a jeweler's mark.
”Can you guess now, Lil? It's something you been aching fer.”
”Lemme alone!” she said.
He looked at her in frank surprise, slowly replacing the box in his hip-pocket.
”Durned if I know what's got you!” he muttered.
”Nothing ain't got me,” she insisted.
He brightened.
”Poor little girl! Never mind; next summer I'm goin' to grab that Atlantic City job I been tellin' you about. The old man said again yesterday that, jest as sure as he opens his sheet-music bazar down there next season, it's me fer the keyboard.”
”His schemes don't ever turn out. I know his talk,” his wife objected.
”Sure they will this time, Lil; he's got a feller to back it. He dropped in special to hear me play the 'Louisanner Rusticanner Rag' to-day; an'
honest, Lil, he couldn't keep his feet still! I sprung that new one on him, too--the 'Giddy Glide'--an' I had to laugh; the old man nearly jumped over the pianner--couldn't sit quiet! Just you wait, Lil. I got that job cinched--no more picture-show stuff fer me! It'll be us fer the board-walk next summer!”
”That's jest what you said about grabbin' that Coney Island job this season.”
”I couldn't help it that they cut out the pianner at the Concession, could I? The films ain't no more fun fer me than fer you, honey.”
”It's pretty lonesome for a girl sitting here alone every night. It was bad enough before you took the twelve-to-two job; but I never have no evenin's nohow.”
He looked at her with wide-open eyes.
”I didn't know you were sore, Lil--on the real, I didn't! I jest took that cafe job fer a few weeks to help along the surprise.” His hand went to his hip-pocket.
”Oh,” she said, her lips curling, ”I'm sick of that line of talk.”
”Lil!”
There was a count-five pause; and then the old cheeriness came back into his voice.
”I'm going to cut out the cafe job, anyway, now that--”
”Oh, never mind,” she said, indifferently. ”What's it matter whether you are home at twelve or two? I ain't had no evenin's for a good long time, anyhow.”
”I guess you're right. Don't I wish I had some steady clerkin' job, like Bill! But it don't seem like I am cut out fer anything but pounding ragtime--you knew that, honey, before we was--” He stopped, reddening.
”No, I didn't! If I'd known before we was married what I know now, things might be different. How was I to know that you was goin' to be changed from matinee work to all-night shows? How was I to know you was goin' to make me put up with a life like this? When I see other girls that's married out of the department, and me, I jest wanna die! Look at Sally Lee and Jimmy--they go to vaudyville every week and to Coney Sat.u.r.days. You even kick if I wanna go over to Loo's to spend a evening!”
”I don't kick, Lil; I jest don't like to have you running round with that live wire. She ain't your style.”