Mildred Pierce (32 page)

By now the reality behind this visit was beginning to dawn on Mildred, and she became calm, cold, calculating. Looking up, she saw Arline at her dusting again, her ears bigger than ever. Calling her, she told her to straighten the chairs at the next table, and as she approached, turned pleasantly to Mrs Lenhardt. ‘I beg your pardon. For the moment I wasn’t listening.’

Mrs Lenhardt’s voice rose to a scream. ‘I say if there are any more threats, any more officers at my door, any more of these tricks she’s been playing – I shall have her arrested, I shall have her prosecuted for blackmail, I shall not hesitate for one moment, for I’ve quite reached the limit of my patience.’

Mrs Lenhardt, after panting a moment, got up and swept out. Mildred looked at Arline. ‘Did you hear what she said?’

‘I wasn’t listening, Mrs Pierce.’

‘I asked if you heard what she said.’

Arline studied Mildred for a cue. Then: ‘She said Veda was
trying to blackmail her boy into marrying her and if she kept it up she’d have the law on her.’

‘Remember that, in case I need you.’

‘Yes’m.’

That night Mildred didn’t go to Laguna or to Beverly. She stayed home, tramping around, tortured by the fear that Arline had probably told everybody in the restaurant by now, by uncertainty as to what dreadful mess Veda had got herself into, by a sick, nauseating, physical jealousy that she couldn’t fight down. At eleven, she went to her room and lay down, pulling a blanket over her but not taking off her clothes. Around one, when Veda’s car zipped up the drive, she took no chances on a locked door, but jumped up and met Veda in the kitchen. ‘Mother! . . . My, how you startled me!’

‘I’m sorry, darling. But I have to talk to you. Something has happened.’

‘Well – at least let me take off my hat.’

Mildred went to the den, relieved that she had smelled no liquor. In a minute or two Veda came in, sat down, lit a cigarette, yawned. ‘Personally, I find pictures a bore, don’t you? At least Nelson Eddy pictures. Still, I suppose it’s not his fault, for it isn’t how he sings but what he sings. And I suppose he has nothing to do with how dreadfully long they are.’

Miserably, Mildred tried to think how to begin. In a low, timid voice, she said: ‘A Mrs Lenhardt was in to see me today. A Mrs John Lenhardt.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘She says you’re engaged to marry her son, or have some idea you want to marry him, or – something.’

‘She’s quite talkative. What else?’

‘She opposes it.’

In spite of her effort, Mildred had been unable to get started. Now she blurted out: ‘Darling, what was she talking about? What does it all mean?’

Veda smoked reflectively a few moments, then said, in her clear suave way: ‘Well, it would be going too far to say it was my idea that Sam and I get married. After the big rush they gave
me, with Pa breaking his neck to get me a screen test and Ma having me over morning, noon and night, and Sonny Boy phoning me, and writing me, and wiring me that if I
didn’t
marry him he’d end his young life – you might say it was a conspiracy. Certainly I said nothing about it, or even thought about it, until it seemed advisable.’

‘What do you mean, advisable?’

‘Well, Mother, he was certainly very sweet, or seemed so at any rate, and they were most encouraging, and I hadn’t exactly been happy since – Hannen died. And Elaine did have a nice little apartment. And I was certainly most indiscreet. And then, after the big whoop-de-do, their whole attitude changed, alas. And here I am, holding the bag. One might almost say I was a bit of a sap.’

If there was any pain, any tragic overtone, to this recital, it was not audible to the ordinary ear. It betrayed regret over folly, perhaps a little self-pity, but all of a casual kind. Mildred, however, wasn’t interested in such subtleties. She had reached a point where she had to know one stark, basic fact. Sitting beside Veda, clutching her hand, she said: ‘Darling, I have to ask you something. I have to, I have to. Are you – going to have a baby?’

‘Yes, Mother, I’m afraid I am.’

For a second the jealousy was so overwhelming that Mildred actually was afraid she would vomit. But then Veda looked at her in a pretty, contrite way, as one who had sinned but is sure of forgiveness, and dropped her head on Mildred’s shoulder. At this the sick feeling left, and a tingle went through Mildred. She gathered Veda to her bosom, held her tight, patted her, cried a little. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I was afraid.’

‘Of me? Of Mother?’

‘No, no! Of the suffering it would bring you. Darling Mother, don’t you know I can’t bear to see you unhappy?’

Mildred closed her eyes for a moment, to savour this sweet blandishment. Then, remembering, she asked: ‘What did she mean about officers?’

‘You mean police?’

‘I – guess so. At her door.’

‘My, that
is
funny.’

Veda sat up, lit another cigarette, and laughed in a silvery, ironical way. ‘From what I’ve learned of the young man
since
this happened, I’d say that any girl from Central Casting, perhaps all eight thousand of them for that matter, could have sent officers to his door. He has a very inclusive taste. Well, that’s really funny, when you stop to think about it, isn’t it?’

Hoping for more saccharine remarks, Mildred asked Veda if she’d like to sleep with her, ‘just for tonight’, but Veda said it was something she’d have to face alone, and went to her room. All through the night, Mildred kept waking with the jealousy gnawing at her. In the morning, she went to the Glendale restaurant and called Bert. Dispensing with Tommy, she went down to Mrs Biederhof’s corner and picked him up. Then, starting for the hills, she started to talk. She put in everything that seemed relevant, beginning with Mr Hannen’s haemorrhage, and emphasising Veda’s forebodings about it. When she got to Mr Treviso, Bert’s face darkened, and he exclaimed at the ‘rottenness’ of a dirty wop that would treat a young girl that way. Then finding the going more difficult, Mildred told about Elaine, the drinking, and Ida’s harrowing tales. Then, disconnectedly, hardly able to speak any more, or to drive, she told about Mr Lenhardt. Then, trying to tell about her talk with Veda, she broke down completely, and blurted: ‘Bert! She’s going to have a baby! She’s in a family way!’

Bert’s grip tightened on her arm. ‘Hold it! Stop this goddam car. I got to – get some place where I can move around.’

She stopped, and pulled to one side, on Foothill Boulevard. He got out, began tramping up and down beside the car. Then he began to curse. He said goddam it, he was going to kill that son of a bitch if it was the last thing he did on earth. He said he was going to kill him if they hung him for it and his soul rotted in hell. With still more frightful oaths, he went into full particulars as to where he was going to buy the gun, the way he would lay for the boy, what he would say when he had him face
to face, and how he would let him have it. Mildred watched the preposterous little figure striding up and down, and a fierce, glowing pride in him began to warm her. Even his curses gave her a queer, morbid satisfaction. But after a while she said: ‘Get in, Bert.’

He climbed in beside her, held his face in his hands, and for a moment she thought he was going to weep. When he didn’t she started the car and said: ‘I know you’d kill him, Bert. I know you would, and I glory in you for it. I love you for it.’ She took his hand, and gripped it, and tears came to her eyes, for he had reached her own great pain, somehow, and by his ferocity, eased it. ‘But – that wouldn’t do Veda any good. If he’s dead, that’s not getting her anywhere.’

‘That’s right.’

‘What are we going to do?’

Gagging over her words, Mildred presently broached the subject of an operation. It was something she knew little about, and hated, not only on account of its physical aspect, but because it went counter to every instinct in her wholly feminine nature. Bert cut off with a gesture. ‘Mildred, girls die in that operation. They die. And we’re not going to let her die. We lost one, and that’s enough. By God, I’ll say she’s not going to have any operation, not to make it easy for a dirty little rat that took advantage of her and now wants to do a run-out.’

Bert now turned toward Mildred, his eyes flashing. ‘He’s going to marry her, that’s what he’s going to do. After he’s given her child a name, then he can do his run-out. He
better
do a runout, and do it fast, before I catch up with him. He can go to hell, for all I give a damn, but before he does, he’ll march up beside her and say “I do”. I’ll see to that.’

‘It’s the only thing, Bert.’

Mildred drove along, and presently had a hollow feeling they were right back where they started. It was all very well to say the boy had to marry Veda, but how could they make him do it? Suddenly she burst out: ‘Bert, I’m going to get a lawyer.’

‘It’s just what I’ve been thinking.’

‘You and I, we can’t do a thing. Precious time is going by, and something has to be done. And the first thing is to get that lawyer.’

‘OK. And get him quick.’

When Mildred got home, Veda was just getting up. Closing the door, she addressed the tousled girl in the green kimono. ‘I told your father. We had a talk. He agrees that we need a lawyer. I’m going to call up Wally Burgan.’

‘Mother, I think that’s a excellent idea . . . As a matter of fact, I’ve already called him up.’

‘You –
what
?’

Veda spoke sleepily, and a little impatiently. ‘Mother, can’t you see that I’m trying to arrange things myself, without putting you to all kinds of trouble about it? I’ve been trying to spare you. I want to make things easy for you.’

Mildred blinked, tried to adjust herself to this astounding revelation.

Wally arrived around three. Mildred brought him to the privacy of the den, then went and sent Letty on an errand that would take her all afternoon. When she got back to the den, Veda was there, in a simple little blue frock that had cost Mildred 75 dollars, and Wally was looking at the pictures of Bert attending the banquets. He said things certainly did look familiar, and casually got down to business. He said he had done a little inquiring around, and the situation was about what he figured it was. ‘The kid comes into dough on his twenty-first birthday, that’s the main thing. How much I don’t exactly know, but it’s well up in six figures. He’s got to inherit. There’s no way the mother, or the stepfather, or any of them can juggle the books to keep him out of it, and once he dies, whoever is married to him at the time cuts in for her share of the community property. That’s what this is all about, and it’s all it’s all about. That’s why they’re breaking their necks to head it off. It’s got nothing to do with their being too young, or loving each other, or not loving each other, or the different ways they’ve been brought up, or any of the stuff that mother has been dishing out. It’s nothing but the do-re-mi – the old army game.’

When Wally stopped Mildred drew a deep breath and spoke slowly, raising her voice a little: ‘Wally, I’m not interested in whether he inherits, or how much he inherits, or anything of that kind. So long as I’m here, I don’t think Veda will be in want. But a situation has been created. It’s a terrible situation for Veda, and the only thing that boy can do about it is to marry her. If he’s a decent boy, he’ll do the right thing on his own initiative, regardless of what his family says. If he’s not, he’ll have to be made. Wally, that woman had a great deal to say that I haven’t told Veda, but that I have witnesses to substantiate – about law, and what she’ll do, and other things.
I’ll go just as far as she will
. If it’s the only way, I want that boy arrested – and you can tell him he can be very glad it’s only the police he has to face, instead of Bert.’

‘Arresting him may be a little tough.’

‘Haven’t we got laws?’

‘He’s skipped.’

Wally shot a glance at Veda, who considered a few moments, then said: ‘I think you’d better tell her.’

‘You see, Mildred, just happens we already thought of that. Two, three days, maybe a week ago, I took Veda over to the Sheriff’s office and had her swear out a warrant for Sam. No statutory rape, nothing unpleasant like that. Just a little morals charge, and same afternoon, couple of the boys went over to serve it. He wasn’t there. And so far—’

‘So that’s what she meant by officers!’

Veda stirred uneasily under Mildred’s accusing eyes. ‘Well, Mother, if you’re talking about what I said last night. I didn’t know at that time that any officers had actually
been
there.’

Mildred turned on Wally. ‘It does seem to me that on a thing of this kind, a matter as serious as this, I should have been the first one you would have talked to about it. Why the very idea, of legal steps being taken without my knowing anything whatever about it!’

‘Now just hold your horses a minute.’

Wally’s eyes became very cold, and he got up and marched up and down in front of Mildred before he went on. ‘One thing you might consider: ‘I’ve got a little thing called legal ethics to
consider. Sure, I’d have been willing to talk to you. We’ve talked plenty before, haven’t we? But when my client makes an express stipulation that I not talk to you, why—’

When Mildred turned, Veda was ready. ‘Mother, it’s about time you got it through your head that, after all, I, and not you, am the main figure in this little situation, as you call it. I’m not proud of it. I readily admit it’s my own fault, and that I’ve been very foolish. But when I act on that assumption, when I try to relieve you of responsibility, when I try to save you unhappiness, it does seem to me you could give me credit for some kind of decent motives, instead of going off the handle in this idiotic way.’