put in for that early, in March. I thought we could rent a camp up at Lake Pleasant. That would mean only a seventy-mile trip and a chance for some fishing. But Linda kept harping on it. Now, of course, I know why she kept after me the way she did. I know the horror that lived in the back of her mind all those months she was cooing and wheedling. Now that it’s too late, I can look back and see just how carefully it was all arranged.
Ever since Christmas we had been seeing quite a lot of the Jeffries. His first name was Brandon, but nobody would ever call him that. You instinctively called him Jeff. They were a little younger than Linda and me, and he was with the same company, but on the sales end, while I’ve been in the purchasing department for the past nine years—in fact ever since I got out of the army and married Linda. Jeff was one of the top salesmen on the road and last year they brought him in and made him sales manager of the northeastern division. He got an override on all the sales made in his division and had to make only about three trips a month. I guess he made out pretty well—probably a lot better than I do—and on top of that Stella, his wife, had some money of her own.
When they brought him in last year Jeff and Stella bought two adjoining lots about a block and a half from our place and put up quite a house. A little more modern than I go for, but Linda was just crazy about it. Linda always seemed to take a big shine to people who had more to do with than we did, and so it was always a strain trying to keep up. I tried to save a little, but it was a pretty slow process.
The four of us played bridge and canasta pretty often. Usually I don’t like to see too much of people who work at the same place because it’s like bringing your work home with you. But Jeff was in an entirely different division and we didn’t talk about the company at all.
Daytimes, Linda would go over and gab with Stella, or vice versa. They didn’t ever seem to become real good friends, if you know what I mean. We saw a lot of each other, but there was always a little reserve. Nobody ever seemed to let their hair down all the way. Maybe some of that was my fault. I have about two or three close friends, and a lot of people I just happen to know. I’ve always been quiet. Linda did the talking for both of us.
If you’ve ever been in purchasing, where you have to see the salesmen, you’ll know what I mean when I say that Jeff was a perfect salesman type. Not the cartoon type, slapping backs and breathing in your face, but the modern type of top sales hand—tall and good-looking in a sort of rugged way. When he told jokes, they were on himself. He’d listen when you talked. I mean really listen, drawing you out. He had that knack of making you feel important. I’m sure he wasn’t really interested in my woodworking shop, but he’d come down to the cellar and pretend to be. I probably bored him, showing him how the stuff worked, but you’d never guess it.
Jeff kept himself in shape too. He really worked at it—swimming and tennis and so on. And I guess he had a sun lamp home because he had a good tan the year round. All of which added to the kind of impression he made.
When you’re married to a woman like Linda, you develop a sort of sixth sense for those jokers who are on the make. We couldn’t ever go to a big party without somebody trying to hang all over her. I hate parties like that, but they made Linda sparkle. She was thirty-four when we met the Jeffries and looked about twenty-six or seven. People were all the time telling her that she looked like Paulette Goddard, but I never could see it.
One thing Linda really had, and that’s a beautiful figure. I have never seen a better figure anywhere, on anybody. She had to watch her weight pretty carefully. She liked to stay at a hundred and twenty-five. Personally, I liked her at about a hundred and thirty-two, because when she weighed less her face looked
Ever since Christmas we had been seeing quite a lot of the Jeffries. His first name was Brandon, but nobody would ever call him that. You instinctively called him Jeff. They were a little younger than Linda and me, and he was with the same company, but on the sales end, while I’ve been in the purchasing department for the past nine years—in fact ever since I got out of the army and married Linda. Jeff was one of the top salesmen on the road and last year they brought him in and made him sales manager of the northeastern division. He got an override on all the sales made in his division and had to make only about three trips a month. I guess he made out pretty well—probably a lot better than I do—and on top of that Stella, his wife, had some money of her own.
When they brought him in last year Jeff and Stella bought two adjoining lots about a block and a half from our place and put up quite a house. A little more modern than I go for, but Linda was just crazy about it. Linda always seemed to take a big shine to people who had more to do with than we did, and so it was always a strain trying to keep up. I tried to save a little, but it was a pretty slow process.
The four of us played bridge and canasta pretty often. Usually I don’t like to see too much of people who work at the same place because it’s like bringing your work home with you. But Jeff was in an entirely different division and we didn’t talk about the company at all.
Daytimes, Linda would go over and gab with Stella, or vice versa. They didn’t ever seem to become real good friends, if you know what I mean. We saw a lot of each other, but there was always a little reserve. Nobody ever seemed to let their hair down all the way. Maybe some of that was my fault. I have about two or three close friends, and a lot of people I just happen to know. I’ve always been quiet. Linda did the talking for both of us.
If you’ve ever been in purchasing, where you have to see the salesmen, you’ll know what I mean when I say that Jeff was a perfect salesman type. Not the cartoon type, slapping backs and breathing in your face, but the modern type of top sales hand—tall and good-looking in a sort of rugged way. When he told jokes, they were on himself. He’d listen when you talked. I mean really listen, drawing you out. He had that knack of making you feel important. I’m sure he wasn’t really interested in my woodworking shop, but he’d come down to the cellar and pretend to be. I probably bored him, showing him how the stuff worked, but you’d never guess it.
Jeff kept himself in shape too. He really worked at it—swimming and tennis and so on. And I guess he had a sun lamp home because he had a good tan the year round. All of which added to the kind of impression he made.
When you’re married to a woman like Linda, you develop a sort of sixth sense for those jokers who are on the make. We couldn’t ever go to a big party without somebody trying to hang all over her. I hate parties like that, but they made Linda sparkle. She was thirty-four when we met the Jeffries and looked about twenty-six or seven. People were all the time telling her that she looked like Paulette Goddard, but I never could see it.
One thing Linda really had, and that’s a beautiful figure. I have never seen a better figure anywhere, on anybody. She had to watch her weight pretty carefully. She liked to stay at a hundred and twenty-five. Personally, I liked her at about a hundred and thirty-two, because when she weighed less her face looked
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