“We can call for a cab downstairs he said.
“%y the wall?” Ed Bitter asked when the cab dropped them in front of the house on Q Street. : “My uncle Chesty built it when Roosevelt got elected,” Whit taker said, “to preserve civilization as we know it from the barbarian Democrats.”
E I d Bitter laughed. “That wall’s at least fifty years old.” And then he made the connection. “Chesty? Chesty Whittaker? Chesley Haywood Whittaker?”
“One and the same,” Whittaker said. “You know the name?”
“He and my uncle Brandon are friends,” Bitter said. “My father, too, I think.”
“Brandon what?”
“Brandon Chambers,” Bitter said.
“Newspapers, right?” Whittaker asked, and waited for Bitter to acknowledge the association. When Bitter nodded, Whittaker unlocked the heavy wooden door in the wall, pushed it open, and waved Canidy and Bitter through.
Paul, the butler, opened the door as they approached. “Good afternoon, sir,” he said to Whittaker, and then looked at Canidy. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Canidy. Just set those bags down. I’ll take care of them.”
“How are you, Paul?” Whittaker said. “Is my uncle here?”
“I just sent the car to fetch Mr. Whittaker, sir,” Paul said. “Miss Chenowith is in the library.”
“Then that’s where we’ll go,” Whittaker said. “Would you please bring some beer to the library, Paul? Unless you’d rather have something stronger, Ed?”
“Beer is fine,” Bitter said.
“Yes, sir,” Paul said.
Canidy and Bitter followed Whittaker across the wide foyer, where he slid open the double doors. Cynthia Chenowith, her shoulder-length brown hair parted simply in the middle, was sitting sidewards on a couch, with a newspaper laid open next to her. She looked up when the door slid open.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “Your uncle was worried.”
“Edwin Bitter, officer and gentleman, USN, say hello to Miss Cynthia Chenowith,” Whittaker said. “But don’t get your hopes up.
Not only is Canidy smitten with her, but I have been in love with her since she was eight and I was four.”
Cynthia smiled at Bitter.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you you are judged by the company you keep?” she asked. “Hello, Canidy.”
“Miss Cynthia, ma’am9″ Canidy said, in a mock Southern accent, and bowed deeply.
4″You. could have called,” Cynthia said to Whittaker. “We weren’t even sure you were on the train. It was damned inconsiderate of you. Aren’t you ever going to grow up?”
“That time of the month again, is it?” Whittaker asked, without thinking.
“You can go to hell, Jim she said. With her face flushing with embarrassment and anger, she stormed out of the room.
“Why the hell did you say that?” Canidy asked Whittaker as soon as she was gone.
“Who the hell does she think she is, talking to me that way, my mother?” Whittaker replied. “And since when do you take her side? What happened between you when you were here before?”
“I didn’t make a pass at her, Jimmy ” Canidy said, “if that’s what you are asking, though I confess the possibility entered my mind.”
“Then what?”
“Could it be a case of mutual loathing, Jimmy?” Canidy said, with an angelically innocent smile. “In my experience, that’s the reason a man and a woman are at each other’s throats every time they see one another.”
“I think Dick is right ” Ed Bitter said, trying to keep a straight face. “It couldn’t be that you two actually like each other, could it?”
“Oh, fuck it,” Whittaker said, wanting to stop the conversation before he was really stuck on the hook.
A few moments later a young black woman in a maid’s apron and cap came into the room and set a tray with three bottles of beer and three glasses on the coffee table before the couch.
As she left, Cynthia Chenowith returned.
IV “Can I get you something, Miss Chenowith?” the maid asked.
“Nothing, thank you”, Cynthia Chenowith said, and then looked at Canidy.
“Jim is sorry,” Canidy said. “Tell her you’re sorry, jackass I”
“To the extent an apology is required, I apologize,” Whi’ said. ttaker “Accepted,” she said. “I don’t know why I thought I had a right to give you hell, and I’m sorry.”