Oliver's Story

'Not here. But there's a crisis in the Denver store. I'm flying there in twenty minutes. I'll explain tonight.'

'Is it serious?'

'Yeah, I guess. It may take several days, but if we're lucky we can save the ship.'

'How can I help?' I asked.

'Well … please explain to Philip. Tell him that I'm really sorry.'

'Okay. But that won't be easy.'

Minipause. Which would have been much longer were she not in haste to catch her plane.

'Hey, you sound slightly pissed.'

I weighed my words. I didn't want to aggravate her problems.

'Only disappointed, Marce. I mean we — never mind.'

'Please hang in there till I get to Denver. It'll take some long explaining.'

'Yeah,' I said.

'Say something nice, please, Oliver.'

'I hope they serve you turkey on your flight.'

There was some consolation in my solo feast with Phil.

It was like old times. We were together, just the two of us.

The food was wonderful. It's just my thoughts were rather difficult to swallow.

Philip tried to help me brave it.

'Look,' he said, 'such things can happen in the world of business. Business people travel. It's the nature of … the business.'

'Yeah.'

'Besides, there's other people who can't make it home. Like soldiers … '

Great analogy!

'And if they made her stay away, that must mean Marcie is important, right?'

I didn't answer.

'Has she some executive position?'

'Sort of.'

'Well, that's to her credit. She's a modern girl. Christ, you should be proud. She's an achiever. Is she bucking for promotion?'

'In a way.'

'That's good. Ambitious. That's to be proud of, Oliver.'

I nodded. Just to show I wasn't sleeping.

'When I was growin' up,' quoth Phil, 'a family took pride to say, 'My kid's ambitious.' Of course they usta say it of the fellas. But these modrun girls, they're equal, ain't they?'

'Very,' I replied.

At last my taciturnity convinced him that he couldn't mitigate my disappointment.

'Hey,' he said, and shifted to another gear. 'It wouldn't be this way if you would marry her.'

'Why not?' I was as light on irony as possible.

'Because a woman is a woman. Wives gotta be at home here with their families. It's nature's way.'

I would not dispute his philosophy of nature.

'Look,' he said, 'it's your own goddamn fault. If you would make an honest woman of her — '

'Phil!'

'What's true is true,' he barked, defending someone he had never met. 'Those woman's-lib Comanches can throw pies at me, but I know what the Bible says. A man an' woman gotta cleave together. Right?'

'Right,' I said, and hoped that it would shut him up. It did. For several seconds.

'Hey, what the hell does 'cleave' mean, anyway?' he asked.

'Hold very close,' I answered.

'Has she read the Bible, Oliver?'

'I guess so.'

'Call her up. There's bound to be a Gideon in her hotel.'

'I will,' I said.

 

'What are your feelings?'

Dr London, here's a time I really need your help. My feelings?

'Anger. Rage. Pissed off.'

But also more.

'Confused. I don't know what to feel. We're on the verge of … I don't know.'

Yeah, I did know, but couldn't say it.

'I mean … building a relationship. Or trying to. How can we tell if it can really work if we don't have the time together? Time in person. Not just on the telephone. I'm not the slightest bit religious, but if I thought that we'd be separated Christmas Eve, I'd … '

Maybe cry? I'm sure that even Jack the Ripper spent the Yule with friends.

'Look, the problem's serious. I mean the Denver store's got shaky management. Marcie had to go. She has to stay. It's nothing she can delegate. And who the hell's suggesting she should delegate? To hold my hand? To cook my breakfast?

'Dammit — it's her job! I've got to live with that. I'm not complaining. All right, sure I am. But I'm the one who's immature …

'And maybe more than that. I'm selfish. Inconsiderate. Marcie is my … we're a … sort of couple. She's got hasslement in Denver. Truly. Even though she is the boss, some wise-ass locals think she's got a heavy hand. It's not that easy.

'Meanwhile I'm just lounging here and moaning over nothing, when I maybe should be there to back her up. A little personal support. Christ, I know what it would mean to me. And if I did, she'd really know … '

I hesitated. How much was I telling Dr London with my incompleted sentences?

'I think I ought to fly to Denver.'

Silence. I was pleased with my decision. Then I realized this was Friday.

'On the other hand, next Monday I'm supposed to go to trial against that School Board. I've been dying to get in there with those Yahoos … '

Pause for introspection. Weigh your values, Oliver.

'Okay, I could give the ball to Barry Pollack. Actually, he's deeper into it than I. Of course, he's younger. They might rattle him. Ah, shit, I know I'd make it stronger. It's important!'

Christ, what a ferocious game of psychic Ping-Pong. I was dazed from hearing my own counterarguments!

'But dammit, Marcie's more important! Never mind how cool she is, she's out there all alone and she could use a friend. And maybe I could — once in my whole life — consider someone other than my goddamn self!'

I was convinced by my last argument. I think.

'I fly to Denver, right?'

I looked at the doctor. London pondered for a moment and replied:

'If not, I'll see you five o'clock on Monday.'