'Are you? Would they?' Lucien said. 'And why is everyone so intimately concerned with my happiness?' That didn't quite take the bull by the horns, but it came close.
O'Doull smiled at him. 'Because of the gossip, as I said.'
'Well? And what is this gossip? And why are you acting like an old woman and listening to it?' There. Now Lucien would find out whatever there was to find out.
So he thought, anyhow. But O'Doull only smiled and said, 'That it could be you have some reason for happiness.'
'Well, if I do, that reason is not a beau-fils who comes around snooping after what I am doing,' Lucien said pointedly.
This time, Leonard O'Doull laughed out loud. 'As if you never did any snooping of your own,' he said. The only comeback Galtier found for that was dignified silence, so he used it. But even silence made his son-in-law laugh at him. O'Doull got to his feet.
'Well, mon beau-pиre, I won't keep you any more. I hope you find happiness wherever you can.'
He didn't even wait for an answer. He just put on his hat and overcoat and left. Through the howl of the wind, Lucien heard his son-in-law's old Ford roar to flatulent life. The motorcar sputtered up the path from the farmhouse to the road. Then its noise faded away.
As soon as quiet returned, Lucien put on his own warm clothes again. He hoped the Chevrolet would start. It did. The battery might be going, but it wasn't quite gone. He let the engine get good and warm, then put the auto in gear and drove off to Йloise Granche's.
'What kept you?' she said when he knocked on the door. 'I expected you half an hour ago.'
'My son-in-law paid me a call,' he answered with a shrug. 'From what Leonard says, there may be some gossip about us. Do you mind? Does it bother you?'
'No, not at all,' Йloise said with a shrug of her own. 'I've always expected it. We should be grateful it's taken this long to show up.'
'Who knows whether it has?' Lucien said. 'It's taken this long for one of us to hear about it, yes. But that's different. Who knows how long people have been mumbling this, that, or the other thing?'
Йloise looked thoughtful. Slowly, she nodded. 'Yes, it could be that you are right. Still, it is a small thing. Shall we go?'
'Certainly,' Lucien replied. He held the passenger door of the Chevrolet open for her, then went around to the driver's side. Again, the motorcar started. Lucien surreptitiously patted the steering wheel. The machine might be less reliable than a horse, but it was doing what it was supposed to do.
Hardly any traffic was on the road as he drove back to his own farmhouse. The autos and trucks that did appear seemed to come out of nowhere, loom enormously for a moment through the swirling snow, and then disappear as abruptly as they'd come into view. 'Everything goes by so fast,' Йloise murmured.
'Tu as raison,' Galtier said. 'That was what gave me the hardest time when I learned to drive after the war.' Up till then, he hadn't had a prayer of affording a motorcar. Only a bargain with the Americans for the land they'd taken from his farm for their hospital had let him do it. He went on, 'In a buggy or a wagon, you have time to look away from the road and back again. In a motorcar? No. Mon Dieu, no. If you do not pay attention every moment, you will have a wreck.'
He got back to his house without having a wreck. He was anxious even so as he handed Йloise out of the Chevrolet. The anxiety grew on the short walk to the front door. He thought the place was reasonably tidy. But what did he know? What did he really know? He was only a man, after all.
When he opened the door, he distracted Йloise for a moment by flipping the switch and turning on a lamp across the room. 'Electricity,' she said, and nodded to herself. 'Yes, I knew you had it. It's so much brighter and finer than kerosene.'
A moment later, Lucien wondered whether that fine, bright light was what he wanted. It would let her see every flaw in his housekeeping. Mercifully, though, she didn't seem inclined to be critical. She let him guide her through the house, every so often nodding again.
'Very nice,' she said when the tour was done. 'Very nice indeed. I am glad you're comfortable. I have worried about you living here by yourself.' She raised an eyebrow. 'Somehow, though, I doubt everything is quite so neat when you are not having company over.'
Lucien looked back at her, nothing but innocence on his face. 'Why, my sweet, what can you possibly mean by that?'
Йloise started to explain exactly what she meant. Then she caught the glint in his eye and started to laugh instead. 'You!' she said fondly. 'You are a devil, aren't you?'
'If I am, it is because you make me one,' Galtier answered. He took her in his arms to show just what kind of devil she made him. Her lips were sweet against his. She didn't kiss quite like Marie-but she was probably thinking he didn't kiss like her dead husband. And so what, either way? They were kissing each other, and nothing else mattered, not right then.
XII
Cincinnatus Driver wasn't happy about walking upstairs from his apartment. He knew he should have been happy. Knowing that only made him more unhappy yet. He sighed and muttered something under his breath. The more you looked at it, the more you lived it, the more complicated life got.
He knocked on the door of the apartment just above his. The wireless was on inside, pretty loud. He had to knock twice before anybody in there heard him. Suddenly, the wireless got softer. A few seconds later, the door opened.
'Evenin', Mr. Chang,' Cincinnatus said. 'How are you today?'
'Oh. Hello, Mr. Driver,' said the father of Cincinnatus' daughter-in-law. Joey Chang was polite. He'd always stayed polite with Cincinnatus, even if he didn't much care to have Achilles in his family. He hesitated, then brightened. 'I just make new batch of beer. You want some?' If Cincinnatus had come up about homebrew, then maybe they wouldn't have to talk about… other things.
And Cincinnatus smiled and nodded and said, 'I'd love to have some, for true.' He meant every word of it. Iowa was a dry state, with liquor of any kind hard to come by. And Chang made damn good beer. But that wasn't why Cincinnatus had come upstairs. 'I got some news you need to know.'
'News?' Mr. Chang asked, and Cincinnatus nodded again. The Chinaman sighed, much as Cincinnatus had while climbing the stairs. He stepped aside. 'You come in, you tell me news.'
'Thank you kindly,' Cincinnatus said. 'Evenin', Mrs. Chang,' he called to the woman sitting close by the wireless set. It was playing a comedy about a trolley driver and his friend who worked in a sewer. Cincinnatus wondered how much Mrs. Chang followed; her English wasn't as good as her husband's.
As if to underscore that, Joey Chang spoke to her in Chinese. She answered in the same language. Cincinnatus understood not a word, but she didn't sound happy. Mr. Chang sighed again, on exactly the same note. He lit a cigarette, then offered Cincinnatus one. Once they were both smoking, he said, 'What is this news?'
'Achilles and Grace, they gonna have themselves another baby toward the end of the year,' Cincinnatus answered.
'Baby?' Mrs. Chang said sharply. She might not have a whole lot of English, but she sure understood that.
'Yes, ma'am. That's right,' Cincinnatus said.
'This is good news. Here, you wait.' Joey Chang went into the kitchen. He came back half a minute later with three small glasses. He gave one to his wife, one to Cincinnatus, and kept the third for himself. 'A baby. Kampai!' he said, and knocked back his glass.
'Mud in your eye.' Cincinnatus followed suit. This wasn't beer. It scorched his gullet all the way down, and exploded like a bomb when it hit his stomach. 'Whew!' He eyed the empty glass with respect. 'You make that yourself?'
'Not me.' Chang shook his head. 'This place too small for proper still. Beer easy. Can make beer anywhere. But need more room for still, need place where neighbors no smell… smoke.' He scowled; that wasn't the word he
