Whistling in the Dark (40 page)

"You were looking forward to it," Ox said quietly.

Ida came out of the kitchen, seeming as weary as Esther. "Well, no surprise what's been holding you up. I've suppers ready for serving."

"You knew Esther wanted to go early tonight," Jack said. "I'll stay and wait tables--"

"Jack, no," Esther said. "You can't miss Sutton's concert."

"I'll set up the radio here and we'll have it just as good." He turned to Ida. "What do you say?"

Her mouth took an irritated downturn but, to his amazement, she gave in. "Suit yourself. But if you're bringing that radio contraption over here, she'll stay until you're done with it and ready to work. Esther, take these suppers before they're cold."

She went into the kitchen and Jack swung to Esther. "Let Ox bring the suppers. You go up and dress and I'll get the radio."

At six-thirty sharp, Jack bundled Esther and Ox into a cab, paid their fare, and stood at the curb until they were out of sight. He felt lonesome and tried to comfort himself with the possibility that he could be on time for the party after the concert. For now, he would at least hear Sutton play. At the far end of the lunch counter the radio receiver sat, with an improvised aerial--and music piping out from the horn just loud enough to grab the attention of everyone who came in.

_I

When the supper crowd at last dwindled to a couple at a corner table, Jack sat at the counter and dropped his head in his arms. He was nearly asleep when the first soft notes crept in. The restaurant melted away and he was on the piano bench, leaning against Sutton while he conjured something sweet and aching.

From the first lullaby, Sutton had played for him. He was none too sure what he'd given Sutton in return. A safe place from which to test his newfound freedom. A square meal every day and a laugh now and then. It didn't feel like an even trade.

"Ida, you going to have music with supper every night?" the young woman asked.

Ida's attention fixed on the radio. "I could, if I had a mind to. That's decent music, there."

Jack would have laughed if he hadn't felt so worn. At least he was returning Sutton in as nearly a respectable state as he'd taken him. And just in time. Sutton would go back to Kansas in a cloud of rumors, but rumors were one thing--newspaper stories, arrest, and public disgrace were another. All that was left was to stand on the station platform with a wave and a smile as Sutton's train pulled out. It wouldn't be the first time he'd put a cheerful face on things and he didn't suppose it would be the last.

He helped Ida sweep up and close, though the concert had ended and everyone might yet expect him at the party. His evening clothes were mostly clean, but as ready for the Plaza as he looked, he was too heartsick to go. Nor could he face the thought of going home to bed. He had to settle for a different sort of comfort. He shrugged into his coat as Ida came to the door with her keys. "You want some pie and coffee?" she asked.

The offer surprised him. "I don't even want to look at food again tonight." He found his old grin. "A little gin and jazz, on the other hand--"

She looked disgusted and they were back on usual terms. "What about that box, then? You're taking it home with you."

"I'll come for the radio in the morning. Or send Ox. 'Night, Ida. You can keep my tips."

"Out with you," she said and locked the door behind him.

Jack stood on the sidewalk and watched as people in coats and scarves hurried home to hot meals and welcoming arms. It was a time of day he had come to look forward to. And all the other moments in the day hadn't been so bad lately, either. Maybe he'd hit another dead end, but he didn't have to sit and bawl about it. He would just retrace his steps, keep moving, and try not to think too much until he could do it without his heart crushing to dust in his chest.

Distractions would keep him in one piece. If it was still only a semblance of a normal life, it was something to hang on to. And the only thing that might keep him from letting go altogether.

- Forty-Nine -

Sutton stayed in the crowded ballroom for the better part of an hour, greeting well-wishers and switching the plate of cake from his right hand to his left only when it was necessary to shake hands. Dead on his feet, he hung on doggedly, buoyed by the hope Jack would appear and steal away with him to marvel over the concert's success. By eleven, the throb of his shoulder had grown fierce enough that he had to wonder why his arm didn't simply fall off--and that it might be a relief if it would.

Esther came to his rescue, taking him to a quiet room away from the crowd and sending Ox for an ice pack. "Ida's only just closing up, you know--otherwise, Jack would be here." She tucked a pillow behind his shoulder. "He heard every minute, despite Ida, I'm sure. He knows we were just swell."

Her face brightened and Sutton swallowed against the ache in his throat. "We were that." He said it lightly, but Esther seemed to see right through him.

"He'll be along. Ida probably has him sweeping the floor and I'm sure he's complaining through every bit of it--"

"Esther." He caught the hands that were busy fluffing another pillow.

She looked at him, her heart in her eyes. "You know, when Frank Hollister used to come by the restaurant and flirt, I--" Her face crumpled a little. "I never told him off, not once. I thought Ox was just never going to let me know if he liked me." She sat on the ottoman and smoothed the skirts of the green dress Gert had insisted she keep. "I thought maybe if another fellow was sweet on me, Ox would just have to say something--if he was ever going to. So when Frank went on about a party he wanted to take me to, I made him think I was interested in going."

"You did?"

Her face crumpled a little more, but she nodded. "I didn't know how mean I was till I saw Ox looking over at me like he'd been kicked." She folded her hands over her breast as if the memory caused her physical pain. "I knew he cared. And what I was feeling for him, it was the honest-to-God real thing. When he just got up and walked out, so quiet, I knew. I never felt so awful in my life."

"I know how you must've felt, Es. But it came out all right."

"It did." Her smile stretched, even as tears slipped. "More than I ever hoped. So you see."

"That I should flirt with someone else?" Sutton said gravely.

Esther rolled her eyes and laughed. "Silly. No--just that Jack's a little like Ox. He's sweet as pie, but talking about the things deep down in his heart don't come easily to him. And he's lost so much lately, he won't let himself believe that anything coming his way will last."

"He knows how I feel--" Sutton stopped as Esther dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry, Esther. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, I'm all right." She gave a little shrug and hesitantly looked at him. "I'm sure Jack does know. How you feel always shines right out. That day you first came into Ida's, I could tell you were mighty anxious. Even when you tried to look cheerful, something in your eyes--" She gave up on expressing it and just shook her head.

He was touched she had noticed so much. "Ox is a lucky fellow."

Esther shook her head again. "I'm the lucky one. Jack is, too, and he knows it. Oh, Sutton, he knows."

"Perhaps he's more sure of my feelings than his own," Sutton said as Ox reappeared, carrying one of the hotel's napkins, bulky with dripping ice. "I think I'm going to go upstairs. Esther, would you tell everyone--"

"Of course." She helped him up and he took the ice, thanking Ox. Esther held on to his sleeve. "If Jack comes in--"

"I'd like to talk to him."

She looked relieved. "We'll send him up."

He knew they would, but he was less confident Jack would come--at least not until it was late and everyone had left. If Jack never showed up at all...

Sutton was too tired to think about what that might mean. He reached his room and, not bothering to switch on the light, sat on the bed and pressed the ice to his shoulder. He waited a while, aching and sleepy, absorbing the distant chatter, footfalls, and music from somewhere--all the constant coming and going particular to hotel life. City lights slipped through the drapes to make soothing shadows. It lulled, but still he didn't want to sleep, didn't want to end the night without a word from Jack.

Midnight crept in and Sutton, snapping back to wakefulness, staggered up and got his coat. A light rain fell by the time he reached the shop. Both it and Ida's stood dark and shut. He went upstairs to discover an empty apartment and it occurred to him that he might have passed Jack on the way from the hotel.

Before going back, he decided to try one last place, one place he knew Jack would go at such a late and rainy hour. Wishing he hadn't dismissed the cab, he walked the few blocks to the club, to arrive damp and chilled but unmindful of it in hopes of finding Jack. It didn't take long. Perched on a table midway between the bar and the dance floor, Jack, Theo, and three other fellows swayed back and forth and sang with gin-fueled enthusiasm, much to the entertainment of several nearby patrons.

"You might've sent word we were celebrating down here."

The singing trailed off into awkward silence. Jack stared at Sutton for a startled instant before grinning as if nothing were wrong. "Well, look who's here. Didn't think we'd see you tonight. The concert was a whiz-bang--wasn't it, Theo?"

Theo was sober enough to look troubled. "The whizziest," he said, reaching for the bottle of gin and offering it meekly. "Have a drink?"

"Thanks, Theo, not just now. Jack--" Sutton moved nearer, lowering his voice. "Come with me so we can talk? I want to tell you about the concert--well, mostly about after the concert."

"So go ahead. Tell." Jack waved a careless hand. "We all want to know, right?"

The others murmured agreement, Theo most encouragingly. Sutton acquiesced for the moment, his earlier excitement coming back. "I have an invitation to play with the symphony orchestra. What do you think of that? And to tour with them in Europe next year."

Jack raised his nearly empty glass. "Sutton Albright, gentlemen. Soon to be loved the whole world 'round."

A note of regret tinged the toast, but Sutton understood where it came from. Jack felt a little left out of things, that was all. "There's more, Jack. Much more. You'll never guess."

"Bet I could--" Jack avoided his gaze, instead grinning at Theo and the others. "Oh, hell, I've forgotten introductions. Sutton, this is Fielding, that's Henry and--Henry's brother, Elliot."

Dark-haired and handsome despite the spectacles that sat crooked on his nose, Elliot slipped an arm from around Jack's shoulders and shook Sutton's hand. "You're the fellow on the radio? Say, you're swell."

"Swell," Jack echoed. He held out his glass. "Any gin left?"

"Jack, what are you doing?"

Theo sat up straight and almost slid off the table. Standing, he tried to pull himself together. "We've got to go. Time to dress. Hurry, hurry."

Sutton recognized the other three as the men who'd sung with Theo the night before. Elliot started to stand, then looked at Theo in confusion. "We've got another hour yet."

"Time to rehearse, then." Theo got hold of his lapel and hauled him away from Jack. The four of them made it as far as the bar and Sutton knew they were not too surreptitiously listening from that vantage point, but at least now he had Jack's full attention.

Jack lifted eyes not as clouded by gin as they'd first seemed. "I thought I'd come to the station tomorrow to say good-bye."

"Good-bye?"

"Well, yeah." A tired smile formed, then faded. "Seems like as good a time as any to call it a day. Don't you think? Back in your family's good graces. You've got your music again. The old emporium will stagger on a while longer." He stood. "You can go your own way, I can go mine, no hard feelings."

Sutton stared at the offered hand, then into Jack's calm face. He'd seen no sign of this coming, no distance in their conversations, no hesitancy in the way Jack kissed. "Have my parents said something? Has Phillip--"

Jack cut him off with a shake of the head. "I'm being sensible, that's all." He laughed. "Fellows like us, we have to know when to call it quits. You said, yourself--it's only a bit of fun. And you and me, we're not exactly two of a kind. Wouldn't be long before we're bickering like an old married couple."

Jack stared at the empty glass cradled in his hand. He seemed to be waiting for Sutton to curse or swing at him or--something.

If anything Jack had said made sense, he might have replied. But the blow still reverberated and the words from Jack's lips fell, meaningless, around him. Sutton struggled from the muddle of his own thoughts. Jack wanted him to walk away.

In that, he could oblige.

- Fifty -

Sutton went out into a cold, stinging rain, refusing to let himself wish for a penitent Jack in pursuit. When a lantern shining through the dark signaled an approaching cab, he hailed it and fell into the musty interior, grateful for the enveloping night around him. What had been a tiring but grand evening a little while ago felt hollow and shut off from every lovely vision of things to come. Worse, he couldn't escape the feeling he deserved a share of the blame. He'd meant to be smart--but once again, his heart had gone readily ahead, without ever giving him a say in the matter. Lewis had warned him Jack's feelings didn't run deep. Sutton still balked at the notion, but he couldn't deny he'd had a clear understanding of what Jack was like--and it hadn't stopped him from falling headlong just the same.