Who Dealt?
You know, this is the first time Tom and I have been with real friends since we were married. I suppose you’ll think it’s funny for me to call you my friends when we’ve never met before, but Tom has talked about you so much and how much he thought of you and how crazy he was to see you and everything—well, it’s just as if I’d known you all my life, like he has.
We’ve got our little crowd out there, play bridge and dance with them; but of course we’ve only been there three months, at least I have, and people you’ve known that length of time, well, it isn’t like knowing people all your life, like you and Tom. How often I’ve heard Tom say he’d give any amount of money to be with Arthur and Helen, and how bored he was out there with just poor little me and his new friends!
Arthur and Helen, Arthur and Helen—he talks about you so much that it’s a wonder I’m not jealous; especially of you, Helen. You must have been his real pal when you were kids.
Nearly all of his kid books, they have your name in front—to Thomas Cannon from Helen Bird Strong. This is a wonderful treat for him to see you! And a treat for me, too. Just think, I’ve at last met the wonderful Helen and Arthur! You must forgive me calling you by your first names; that’s how I always think of you and I simply can’t say Mr. and Mrs. Gratz.
No, thank you, Arthur; no more. Two is my limit and I’ve already exceeded it, with two cocktails before dinner and now this. But it’s a special occasion, meeting Tom’s best friends. I bet Tom wishes he could celebrate too, don’t you, dear? Of course he could if he wanted to, but when he once makes up his mind to a thing, there’s nothing in the world can shake him. He’s got the strongest will power of any person I ever saw.
I do think it’s wonderful, him staying on the wagon this long, a man that used to—well, you know as well as I do; probably a whole lot better, because you were with him so much in the old days, and all I know is just what he’s told me. He told me about once in Pittsburgh—All right, Tommie; I won’t say another word. But it’s all over now, thank heavens! Not a drop since we’ve been married; three whole months! And he says it’s forever, don’t you, dear? Though I don’t mind a person drinking if they do it in moderation. But you know Tom! He goes the limit in everything he does. Like he used to in athletics—
All right, dear; I won’t make you blush. I know how you hate the limelight. It’s terrible, though, not to be able to boast about your own husband; everything he does or ever has done seems so wonderful. But is that only because we’ve been married such a short time? Do you feel the same way about Arthur, Helen? You do? And you married him four years ago, isn’t that right? And you eloped, didn’t you? You see I know all about you.
Oh, are you waiting for me? Do we cut for partners? Why can’t we play families? I don’t feel so bad if I do something dumb when it’s Tom I’m playing with. He never scolds, though he does give me some terrible looks. But not very often lately; I don’t make the silly mistakes I used to. I’m pretty good now, aren’t I, Tom? You better say so, because if I’m not, it’s your fault. You know Tom had to teach me the game. I never played at all till we were engaged. Imagine! And I guess I was pretty awful at first, but Tom was a dear, so patient! I know he thought I never would learn, but I fooled you, didn’t I, Tommie?
No, indeed, I’d rather play than do almost anything. But
