A Lovely Sunday for Creve Coeur (8 page)

DOROTHEA:
Did she do that? I didn’t know what she did.

HELENA:
You were only very
casually—

DOROTHEA:
Acquainted.

HELENA:
My cousin
Dee-Dee
from La Due takes part whenever her social calendar permits her to. She often sends over dainty little sandwiches, watercress, tomato, sherbets from Zeller’s in the summer. And a nicely uniformed maid to serve.
Well, now we’re convening from auction to contract, which is more complicated but stimulates the mind.
—Dorothea
, you have an abstracted look. Are you troubled over something?

DOROTHEA:
Are these parties mixed?

HELENA:
“Mixed” in what manner?

DOROTHEA:
I mean would I invite Ralph?

HELENA:
I have a feeling that Mr. T. Ralph Ellis might not be able to spare the time this summer. And anyway, professional women do need social occasions without
the—male
intrusion . . .

DOROTHEA
[
with spirit
]: I’ve never thought of the presence of men as being an intrusion.

HELENA:
Dorothea, that’s just a lingering symptom of your Southern belle complex.

DOROTHEA:
In order to be completely honest with you, Helena, I think I ought to tell
you—I
probably won’t be able to share expenses with you in Westmoreland Place for very long, Helena!

HELENA:
Oh, is that so? Is that why you’ve given me the postdated check which you could cancel tomorrow?

DOROTHEA:
You know I wouldn’t do that,
but—

HELENA:
Yes,
but—you
could and possibly you would. . . . Look before you, there stands the specter that confronts you . . .

DOROTHEA:
Miss??

HELENA:
Gluck, the perennial, the irremediable, Miss Gluck! You probably think me superficial to value as much as I do, cousin
Dee-Dee
of La Due, contract bridge, possession of an elegant foreign car. Dorothea, only such things can protect us from a future of descent into the Gluck abyss of surrender to the bottom level of squalor. Look at it and tell me honestly that you can afford not to provide yourself with the Westmoreland Place apartment . . . its elevation, its style, its kind of
éclat
.

DOROTHEA:
Bodey, RESTRAIN HER, RESTRAIN MISS GLUCK, SHE’S TURNED VIOLENT.

BODEY:
Sophie, no, no. I didn’t say you done wrong. I think you done right. I don’t think you did enough.

HELENA:
Violence does exist in the vegetable kingdom, you see! It doesn’t terrify me since I shall soon be safely out of its range. . . . Just let me draw two good deep breaths and I’ll be myself again. [
She does so
.] That did it. . . . I’m back in my skin. Oh, Dorothea, we must, must advance in appearances. You don’t seem to know how vastly important it is, the move to Westmoreland Place, particularly now at this time when you must escape from reminders of, specters of, that alternative there! Surrender without conditions . . .

DOROTHEA:
Sorry. I am a little abstracted. Helena, you sound as if you haven’t even suspected that Ralph and I have been dating . . .

HELENA:
Seriously?

DOROTHEA:
Well, now that I’ve mentioned it to you, yes, quite. You see, I don’t intend to devote the rest of my life to teaching civics at Blewett. I dream, I’ve always dreamed, of a marriage someday, and I think you should know that it might become a reality this summer.

HELENA:
With whom?

DOROTHEA:
Why, naturally with the person whom I love. And obviously loves me.

HELENA:
T? RALPH? ELLIS?

DOROTHEA:
I thought I’d made that clear, thought I’d made everything clear.

HELENA:
Oh, Dorothea, my dear. I hope and pray that you haven’t allowed him to take advantage of
your—generous
nature.

DOROTHEA:
Miss Bodenhafer has the same apprehension.

HELENA:
That is the one and only respect in which your friend, Miss Bodenhafer, and I have something in common.

DOROTHEA:
Poor Miss Bodenhafer is terribly naïve for a girl approaching forty.

HELENA:
Miss Bodenhafer is not approaching forty. She has encountered forty and continued past it, undaunted.

DOROTHEA:
I don’t believe she’s the sort of girl who would conceal her age.

HELENA
[
laughing like a cawing crow
]: Dorothea, no girl could tell me she’s under forty and still be singing a song of that vintage. Why, she knows every word of it,
including—what
do they call it? The introductory verse? Why is she cracking
hard-boiled
eggs in there?

DOROTHEA:
She’s making deviled eggs for a picnic lunch.

HELENA:
Oh. In Forest Park.

DOROTHEA:
No, at Creve Coeur.

HELENA:
Oh, at Creve Coeur, that amusement park on a lake, of which Miss Bodenheifer gave such a lyrical account. Would you like a Lucky?

DOROTHEA:
No. Thank you. My father smoked Chesterfields. Do you know Creve Coeur?

HELENA:
Heard of it. Only. You go out, just the two of you?

DOROTHEA:
No, her brother, Buddy, usually goes with us on these excursions. They say they’ve been going out there since they were children, Bodey and Buddy. They still ride the Ferris wheel, you know, and there’s a sort of
loop-the-loop
that takes you down to the lake shore. Seats much too narrow sometimes. You see, it’s become embarrassing to me lately, the brother you know . . .

HELENA:
Who doesn’t interest you?

DOROTHEA:
Heavens, no,
it’s—pathetic
. I don’t want to hurt Bodey’s feelings, but the infatuation is hardly a mutual thing and it never could be, of course, since I
am—well
, involved
with—

HELENA:
The dashing, the irresistible new principal at Blewett.

DOROTHEA:
—I’d
rather not talk about
that—prematurely
, you know. Ralph feels it’s not quite proper for a principal to be involved with a teacher.
He’s—a
very, very scrupulous young man.

HELENA:
Oh? Is that the impression he gives you? I’m rather surprised he’s given you that impression.

DOROTHEA:
I don’t see why. Is it just because he’s young and attractive with breeding, background? Frequently mentioned in the social columns? Therefore beyond involvement with a person of my ignominious position.

HELENA:
Personally, I’d avoid him like
a—snakebite!

Another one of her oldies! The prospect of this picnic at Creve Coeur seems to make her absolutely euphoric.

DOROTHEA:
I’m afraid that they’re the high points in her life. Sad . . . Helena, I’m very puzzled by your attitude toward Ralph Ellis. Why on earth would a girl want to avoid a charming young man like Ralph?

HELENA:
Perhaps you’ll understand a little later.

DOROTHEA
[
raising her voice
]: Bodey, please not quite so loud in there! Miss Brookmire and I are holding a conversation in
here, you know. [
She turns back to Helena and continues the conversation with an abrupt vehemence
.]
—Helena
, that woman wants to absorb my life like a blotter, and I’m not an ink splash! I’m sorry you had to meet her. I’m
awfully—embarrassed
, believe me.

HELENA:
I don’t regret it at all. I found her most amusing. Even the Gluck!

DOROTHEA
[
resuming with the same intensity
]: Bodey wants me to follow the same, same old routine that she follows day in and day out and
I—feel
sympathy for the loneliness of the girl, but we have nothing, nothing, but
nothing
at all, in common. [
She interrupts herself
.] Shall we have some coffee?

HELENA:
Yes, please. I do love iced coffee, but perhaps the ice is depleted.

BODEY
[
from the kitchenette
]: She knows darn well she used the last piece.

HELENA:
Is it still warm?

DOROTHEA:
It never cools off in this electric percolator, runs out, but never cools off. Do you take cream?

HELENA:
No, thank you.

DOROTHEA
[
bringing the coffee into the living room
]: Bodey does make very good coffee. I think she was born and raised in a kitchen and will probably die in a kitchen if ever she does break her routine that way.

BODEY
: Dotty, remember, Buddy is waiting for us at the Creve Coeur station, we mustn’t let him think we’ve stood him up.

DOROTHEA
[
sighing
]: Excuse me, Helena, there really has been a terrible problem with communication today. [
She crosses to Bodey and adjusts her hearing aid for her
.] Can you hear me clearly, now at last?

BODEY:
You got something to tell me?

DOROTHEA:
Something I’ve told you already, frequently, loudly, and clearly, but which you simply will not admit because of your hostility toward Ralph Ellis. I’m waiting here to receive an important call from him, and I am not going anywhere till it’s come through.

BODEY:
Dotty. It’s past noon and he still hasn’t called.

DOROTHEA:
On Saturday evenings he’s out late at social affairs and consequently sleeps late on Sundays.

BODEY:
This late?

HELENA:
Miss Bodenhafer doesn’t know how the privileged classes live.

BODEY:
No, I guess not, we’re ignorant of the history of art, but Buddy and me, we’ve got a life going on, you understand, we got a life . . .

DOROTHEA:
Bodey, you know I’m sorry to disappoint your plans for the Creve Coeur picnic, but you must realize by
now—after
our conversation before Miss Brookmire dropped
in—that
I can’t allow this
well-meant
design of yours to get me involved with your brother to go any further. So that even if I were
not
expecting this important phone call, I would not go to Creve Coeur with you and your brother this
afternoon—or
ever! It wouldn’t be fair to your brother to,
to—lead
him on that way . . .

BODEY:
Well, I did fry up three chickens and I boiled a dozen eggs, but, well,
that’s—

HELENA:
Life for you, Miss Bodenhafer. We’ve got to face it.

BODEY:
But I really was
hoping—expecting—

HELENA:
Dorothea, I believe she’s beginning to weep over this. Say something comforting to her.

DOROTHEA:
Bodey? Bodey? This afternoon you must break the news to your brother
that—much
as I appreciate his
attentions—I
am seriously involved with someone else, and I think you can do this without hurting his feelings. Let him have some beer first and
a—cigar
. . . . And about this super-abundance of chicken and deviled eggs, Bodey, why don’t you call some girl who works in your office and get her to go to Creve Coeur and enjoy the picnic with you this afternoon?

BODEY:
Buddy and I,
we—don’t
have fun
with—strangers
 . . .

DOROTHEA:
Now, how can you call them strangers when you’ve been working in the same office with these girls at International Shoe
for—how
many years? Almost twenty? Strangers? Still?

BODEY:
—Not
all of ’em have been there long as me . . . [
She blows her nose
.]

DOROTHEA:
Oh, some of them must have, surely, unless the death rate in the office is higher
than—a
cat’s back.

BODEY:
—You
see, Dotty, Buddy and me feel so at home with you now.

DOROTHEA:
Bodey, we knew that I was here just for a while because it’s so close to Blewett. Please don’t make me feel
guilty
. I have no reason to, do I?

BODEY:
—No
, no,
Dotty—but
don’t worry about it. Buddy and me, we are
both—big
eaters, and if there’s somethin’ left over, there’s always cute little children around Creve Coeur that we could share with, Dotty,
so—