I Will Fear No Evil (56 page)

“Did I goof again?”

“My dear, I have an announcement. Dr. and Mrs. Roberto Carlos Garcia y Ibañez are on their honeymoon.”

“
What?
Why, the dirty little rat! Didn’t wait for big sister to hold her hand. Good for them! Jake, that’s
wonderful—
I think I’ll cry.”

“Go ahead, you cry while I shower.”

“Hell, no, I’ll cry when Winnie is back. I’ll take that shower with you and you can scrub me. My back, where I can’t see the paint; not my front, I’m tired, too. When was it and do you know when they will be home? And, goodness, I must pick out a suite for them; Roberto won’t want to be next to mine with a connecting door. And I need to think of a wedding present—I may give them the painting you don’t pick; Roberto won’t let me give them anything expensive, he’s a stubborn man.” (Boss, is there another sort?)

“I can’t see why Bob wouldn’t want to have a connecting door into your bedroom.”

“I think that was meant to be an insult. Perhaps he would like it, dear—
I
would like it. But it would not look right to the servants.” (Frimp the servants!) (
All
of them, Eunice? I’m kept busy as it is.)

“Eunice, I took the liberty of telling Cunningham to have the Gold Suite set up for the Garcias—”

“Perfect! I’ll have a door cut from my lounge into theirs . . . and there already is a lock-off that we can unlock between its foyer and the upstairs library we joined to your suite—and then we can quit this unseemly ducking back and forth through the hall.”

“The newlyweds
might
prefer to be left alone.”

“Hadn’t thought of that. Oh, well, ‘I have some friends of my own,’ as the old gal said.”

“In any case they’ll be back too soon for carpentry. I have it from a usually dependable source that a reliably dishonest member of your staff agreed to phone Mrs. Garcia the instant you returned. I assume that the call was made. I assume that they will be back by, oh, nightfall.”

“I wonder whom I should fire? That’s a hell of a way to run a honeymoon.”

“I understand the good Doctor was in on it—the idea being to keep you safe from harm, since between them they constitute your medical staff.”

“What nonsense. I’m the Pioneer-Mother type. Rugged. If I had crossed with the prairie schooners, they would have yoked me in with the oxen. But I’m glad they’re coming home. I want to kiss them and cry on them.”

“Johann, sometimes I can’t make up my mind whether you are a silly young girl—or senile.”

“The last time you called me ‘Johann’ you acquired some scar tissue. Dear, has it occurred to you that I might be both? A senile silly young girl?”

“Interesting. A possible working hypothesis.”

“If so, I’m a well-adjusted one—Jake, I’m as happy as a cat left alone with the Christmas turkey. With Joe squared away and the Supreme Court being sensible for a change my last fret is gone. Life is one long giddy delight. I’m not even morning sick.”

“Can’t see why you should be—
huh?
” (Boss, I thought you weren’t going to tell him?) (Eunice, he was bound to know soon . . . and I couldn’t just let him find out, can’t do that to
Jake
. This is the perfect time—he’s officially ‘first to know.’)

“I said I wasn’t bothered by morning sickness, Jake. I’m healthy as a horse and the only change I’ve noticed is that I’m hungry as a horse, too.”

“You wish me to believe that you are pregnant?”

“Don’t give me that stern-father look, Jake. I’m knocked up and happier than Happy Hooligan. I could have kept it to myself a while longer but I wanted to tell you before anyone else could notice. But be a dear and treat it as privileged—because the instant Winnie finds out she’ll start mothering me and worrying. Which is not what a bride should be doing. With luck I can keep it from Winnie until she’s pregnant, too.” (Boss, what makes you think Winnie intends to get pregnant?) (Use your head, Eunice—five to one she’s got a Band-aid over the spot where that implant used to be this very minute.) (I don’t have a head, Boss—just yours and it doesn’t work too well.) (Complaints, huh? Talk that way and I won’t marry you, either.) (We
are
married, Boss.) (I know it, beloved. Now be quiet; I’ve got to juggle eggs.)

“Eunice—are you sure?”

“Yes. Test positive.”

“Did Bob make the test? Or some quack?”

“A patient’s relations with a doctor are confo. But it was not a quack. Don’t pursue this line of inquiry, Counselor.”

“We’ll get married at once.”

“The hell we will!”

“Eunice, let’s have no nonsense!”

“Sir, I asked you to marry me quite some time back. You emphatically refused. I asked you at a later time. Again I was turned down. I decided not to renew my request, and I do not do so now. I will
not
marry you. But I will be honored and delighted to continue as your mistress until I am benched by biology—and more than pleased to be allowed again to be your concubine when I am back in commission. I love you, sir. But I will not marry you.”

“I ought to spank you.”

“I don’t think it would do me any damage, darling. But I don’t think you could bring yourself to strike a pregnant woman.” (Now kick him in the
other
shin, Boss. You little hellcat.) (Eunice, stay out of this row. I’m not only a woman scorned; I’m also old Johann Smith who never could be pushed too far. Jake can have us any time, sure. But I’m damned if I’ll let him be ‘noble’ about it when I’m knocked up.) (Boss, aren’t we
ever
going to marry him? This is a mistake, dear; he needs us.) (And we need him, Eunice. Sure, we’ll marry him—after we’ve whelped.
After
.) (Boss, you’re making a big mistake.) (If so, I’m making it. I never make little mistakes—just big ones.)

“I didn’t say I was going to spank you, Eunice—I said I ‘ought’ to. What happened? I distinctly remember you telling me that you had taken care of contraception.”

“Your memory is good, sir. The exact phrasing, as I phrased it most carefully. I have ‘taken care’ of such matters in whatever fashion I wished. Every time. With you. With others. Each time I have taken such care as suited me—at that time and with that man.”

“Hmmm! That’s as unresponsive an answer as I’ve ever heard. Let me put it more plainly. Eunice, did I get you pregnant?”

“I won’t answer. You know that at least one other man has slept with me—and I may have been the bride of the regiment. Jake, you would not marry me when I was a virgin; you still would not marry me when you made me your mistress. So where I got this child in me is not your business and you have no right to quiz me and—much as I love you!—I will not tolerate one more question along this line. Not now nor in the future! Whom I chose to father my child is
my
business. But you may be certain that I selected him with care, eyes open and wits about me. You’ve been acting as if you were a father dealing with a wayward daughter, or a Welfare Visitor trying to establish responsibility for an unlicensed pregnancy. You
know
that is not the situation. I am ninety-five years old—much older than you are—able to afford a dozen bastards if it suits me—and it may—and wealthy enough to tell the world to go pee up a rope. Jake, I was sharing happy news with you. You elect to treat it as bad news and take me to task about it. I won’t accept that, sir. I made a mistake in telling you. Will you please treat the matter as privileged—and never mention it again?”

“Eunice.”

“Yes, Jake?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Jake.”

“Had I been twenty years younger—even ten years!—I would have married you long before now. Since you won’t tell me—and since I have no right to quiz you; you are correct—will you forgive an old man’s pride if I choose to believe that
I
am the man you picked? I promise that I will not discuss that belief with anyone.”

“Jacob, if you choose to believe that, I am honored. But I ask no promises. If you chose to proclaim such a belief, I would never shame my oldest and closest and most beloved friend by denying it. I would smile proudly and let my manner confirm it. But, Jacob my beloved, to
you
I neither affirm nor deny it—and never will. I did this on my own. I
alone
am parent to this child.” (Watch your words, Boss! You almost spelled it out.) (He’ll take it as rhetoric. Or if he does suspect, investigation will prove that he’s wrong. Hank Olsen knows which side of his bed is buttered. Mine, that is.) (And the dates are going to check out so that Jake will be certain it’s his. Hmm—) (Still think I’m a fool, Eunice?) (No, Boss—just reckless. You scare the hell out of me at times.)

“Well, Eunice, from the restrictions you
have
put on me that seems to be all we can say about it.”

“That was my intention, Jake.”

“I understood. What would you like to do the rest of today—at least until our newlyweds return? Play cribbage?”

“If you wish, Jake, certainly.”

“I have a better idea. If you want to join me in it. Could be fun, I think.”

“
Will
be fun, Jake. Anything is always fun shared with you. Even if it’s just cribbage.”

“This is a better two-handed game if it’s played right. Let’s phone Mac, ask him to have his clerk start the ball rolling—and get married. With luck we can be legal by twenty-one or -two—and still get in a couple of boards of cribbage before bedtime.”

“Oh, Jake!
‘Cribbage’!
”

“Answer me, woman. A simple ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. I won’t argue it . . . and I won’t ask you again. And blow your nose and wipe your eyes—you’re a mess.”

“Damn you, Jake!
Yes!
Let me go and I’ll blow my nose. I think you’ve cracked my ribs, you big brute. That’s a hell of a way to treat an expectant mother.”

“I’ll do worse than crack your ribs if I have any more nonsense out of you. Now to call Mac—I’ll have to think up a plausible lie so that he’ll be justified in authorizing the County Clerk to issue a special license.”

“Why does it have to be fancy, Jacob? I thought you were going to tell Mac that you had knocked me up?”

“Eunice, is that what you want me to say?”

“Jacob, I’m going to marry you as quickly as possible, I don’t care how. I hope Winnie and Roberto show up in time but I’m not going to wait; you might come to your senses. I thought you preferred to claim that you had done me in and I know I agreed to confirm it. So tell Mac so. Tell anybody.”

“Doesn’t fret you?”

“Jake dearest, maybe that’s the best way to handle it . . . because, presently, God and everybody is going to know about the Silent Witness. Jake? Do you recall my first day of freedom? The day after Mac conditionally confirmed my identity and discharged me as a ward of the court?”

“My dear, I am not likely to forget
that
day.”

“Nor I. Count two hundred sixty-seven days. That is when the Silent Witness should show up.”

“You’re telling me that I
am
the father of your child.”

“Not at all, sir. I was in heat and had slipped the leash and you may assume if you wish that I spent the day bouncing in and out of beds, going from one man to another.” She smiled beatifically. (Boss, that’s awfully close to the truth—but it sounds like a whopper.) (It
is
the truth, Eunice; I worded it most carefully. That is the second best way to tell a lie—tell the truth so that it sounds like a whopper.) (And I thought
I
knew how to lie.) (I’ve had years more practice, Beloved—and as a kid had more reason to lie than you ever had. Lying is a fine art; it is learned only through long practice.)

“Knock off the nonsense, Eunice, or I’ll start married life by giving you a fat lip. Okay, we’ll tell Mac that; the truth is often the simplest solution. But we have to have health certificates; Mac can get us out of the waiting time but not out of that requirement. My doctor will phony one for me without stopping to take a blood sample and make tests, but how about that quack you mentioned? Will he cooperate?”

“Jake, I don’t recall mentioning a quack. If Roberto gets here in time, I think he would take a chance. Or Rosy would, I think. I don’t think I’m harboring even a cold bug unless I picked up something from Joe and Gigi. Most unlikely. But how about
you
, darling? Washington, D.C., has the highest V.D. rate in the country. Did you fetch anything home?”

“Oh, nothing but big and little casino.”

“A nice girl like me can’t be expected to understand such terms.”

“You impudent little baggage, I slept
alone
in Washington. Can you make the same claim? For the past five days?”

“Of course not, dear; I’ve never been interested in sleeping alone—and Gigi is very snuggly. I commend her to your attention—take a look at that painting.”

“I’m sure she is. Just Gigi, eh? Not Joe?”

“Is Joe snuggly, Jake? Tell me
more!
”

“Woman, you may get that fat lip
before
I marry you.”

“The groom’s present to the bride? Sir, if you want to give me a fat lip, I’ll hold still, smile happily, and take it. Oh, Jake darling, it’s going to be such
fun
to be married to you!”

“I think so, too, you dizzy bitch. Mmm, my doctor will phony a certificate for you, too, if I explain the circumstances. But he’ll need your blood type.”

“Jake, the whole country knows that my blood type is AB-negative. Had you forgotten it?”

“Momentarily, yes. That’s all I need. Except—Wedding here? Or in Mac’s chambers?”

“Here, if possible. I want our servants for ‘family’ if Winnie and Roberto don’t show up. Jacob, do I dare send a car with a message and ask Joe and Gigi to allow themselves to be fetched here for this purpose? I do want them present. Gigi is no problem; she will do as Joe wishes—but I think you know Joe better than I do. I don’t even know that he has clothes he would be willing to wear here—all I saw him wear were denim shorts so caked with paint they could stand alone.”

“Mmm, I agree that Eunice’s former husband is entitled to be invited to Joan Eunice’s wedding, though there has never been a protocol established, that’s certain. Dear, the clothes Joe wore in court would be okay for a home wedding. How about yourself, Eunice? Going to be married in white?”