“Well, I was saying, ‘Damn it, we must remember your reputation—Joan Eunice.”
“My what? My reputation as a woman? I doubt if I have one—other than as a sideshow freak. Doesn’t worry me.”
“You’re not in the news, Joan Eunice, since shortly after the operation. Oh, you will be again when we go into court and perhaps sooner, when someone in your household staff or Dr. Hedrick’s staff spills the fact of your recovery.”
“So I’ll be a sideshow freak again and who cares? A nine-day wonder lasts only a couple of days now; they wear out faster than they did when I was a kid. Jake, I haven’t worried about what anyone said about me for over half a century. The image our P.R. men built up was for the company, not for me personally. As for Mrs. Grundy—I think she’s dead. The present generation does not care about her opinion—a change for the better in a world otherwise deteriorating. I doubt if Eunice ever heard of Mrs. Grundy.” (Sure have, Boss. My fourth-grade teacher. Used to shack with the vice-principal until his wife found out. We kids giggled over it—but you would have liked her, you dirty old darling. Keep working on Jake, dear—time to back away closer.) (Who’s driving this car?) (I am.)
Mr. Salomon said thoughtfully, “I think you are right about this younger generation, Joan Eunice. Only people my age and older give such matters a thought. But you know that I should not live under your roof now. And so do I.”
“Jake, I am not trying to force you. Nor am I trying to compromise you—”
“Eh? Me? It’s your reputation I am thinking of. With your servants, at least.”
(Why, the old hypocrite. Ask him about the time he crowded me into a cloak closet with Cunningham almost breathing down our necks. Go on, I dare you. Oh, he’s a one, that one—courage under fire.) “Jake, that is sweet of you but I don’t give a triple damn how my servants gossip in the kitchen. But I am able to protect you from gossip, sir. I have acquired the most conventional of Victorian chaperonage-a respectable lady’s maid. She’ll sleep just through that door, where Hubert used to sleep. If it frets you, she can always be present when you and I are together.” (Hey, what is this? Trying to get Winnie into act? She might go for it—Jake won’t. Watch it, dear.) (Qui kibitzing, Eunice.)
The lawyer raised his brows. “You’ve hired a maid already? Surprising. Though you never were one to dillydally. Or did you shift around part of your in-house staff?”
“Some of both, Jake. I anticipated that Dr. Garcia will insist on my having a trained nurse. . . so I persuaded one of the nurses to stay on, in both capacities. Winnie. You’ve seen her, the little redhead.”
“Possibly I have.”
(‘Possibly’ he says. All you men are hypocrites. If he hasn’t patted her butt, he’s thought about it.)
“I’m lucky to get her. Intelligent. Educated. Able to teach me things I must know and, being a nurse, used to caring for people even more than a maid does. I used the usual argument—money—but I was careful to respect her professional pride; she’ll still be my nurse, she’ll lady’s-maid me as a friendly favor. I think she may be in bed. But she would get up and chaperon us if asked. Shall I send for her?”
“What? Oh, don’t be silly, Joan Eunice. You’re making a mountain of a molehill.”
“It seemed to me that you were, Jake. I do feel defenseless as a woman . . . even though I was far more vulnerable as a sick old man than I am now in this strong young body. But I feel safe with you present—and not at all safe when you are away. Jake, I can’t urge you to live here. . . but can’t you see what a favor it would be to me? As well as— How many rooms do you have at the Gib?”
“Two; Adequate for my needs.”
“The rooms there aren’t large . . . whereas the living room of the Green Suite is as large as this room. We could cut a door from it into the upstairs library and it could be your study. Move anything into it you need for my affairs or your own—plenty of room for files or books. Jake, I don’t need this big mausoleum any more than you needed your house. But if I tried to sell it, I couldn’t get ten percent of what it cost; I built it during the worst of the Riot Years and the cost doesn’t show; it’s a prettied-up fortress, stronger than police barracks. Well, we may have such years again; I may yet be glad I spared no expense. In the meantime it’s big and safe and comfortable, and you might as well use it. When you wish, I mean, especially when you work on my affairs.”