Free The City Below by James Carroll

impossible.
    Didi excused herself to go to the ladies' room. Terry watched her go, unsure why he felt sad all of a sudden.
    Ed Lake returned and reported that the gods above were well pleased. "And so am I," he said. "Thanks, gang. You're the best."
    "Praise from Caesar," one of the girls snapped. Lake struck a self-mocking pose that made everyone laugh, and made them like him again too.
    "Cow time!" Bright McKay cried, and a Tufts guy named Thatch countered "Chugalug!" Which meant the Grill Room of the Parker House. There were noises of agreement while they grabbed their coats and bags.
    Lake said to Doyle, "Is Didi gone already?"
    "She's in the head. I'll wait for her. I'll see if she'll come."
    "Tell her dinner's on the candidate. I hope she'll ..." Lake hesitated.
    "Sign on?"
    "That's what I was going to say, but I guess she probably ..."
    "Probably what, Ed?"
    "Probably wouldn't." Lake stared at Doyle, hard. Doyle sensed his dislike, and realized Lake had just decided something, but it had more to do with him than with Didi.
    "You could ask her," Doyle said.
    "I don't think so, no. Young Dems is a little different. If she wants on, she could hook up with the church-supper ladies." Lake tossed his head toward the main part of the room. "They need a typist for those voter lists."
    "That way,
if you
need one again, you can just raise your hand and snap your fingers."
    "Give it a rest, Doyle. Anyway, tell her the offer stands. About dinner, I mean. Dinner's on us."
    "Tell her yourself." Terry indicated Didi, who was coming toward them from the far side of the room. Her rich red hair was loose now, brushing her shoulders.
    "No, you do it." Lake glanced at her as he put his coat on and moved away. "See you at the Grill."
    By the time Didi reached Terry, Lake was gone. "Where'd everybody go?"
    "The Parker House. It's sort of a tradition, if we're here this late. Everybody's hoping you'll come."
He
was, anyway. With her hair down she looked less prim, more like one of the debs, ready to go out. He caught a whiff of her perfume. It stirred him to think she'd just applied it. "In fact, the campaign wants to buy you dinner."
    "Oh gosh, Terry, I don't think so."
    "No, really, Didi. You saved the game tonight. That was really important, what you did."
    "Terry ..." Unconsciously, she leaned toward him, a gawky posture. Her neck was so long. Her hair fell forward on her face. "I'm glad you asked me. I mean, I liked doing it."
    "So come have a sandwich or something. Then I'll take you home."
    "No, I'm sorry, but no."
    But hadn't she just prettied herself up? Had she done it only for going home?
    Terry realized she had just this moment changed her mind. Watching Ed Lake, that bastard, she must have grasped it that they were finished with her now, ready to send her back across—
    Doyle did not have the language to describe the gulf that separated Didi from his new friends, the gulf on both sides of which his feet had been planted for weeks now. He'd been a big shot, a comer. But Didi knew him. He was a fumbling adolescent pretending to be a man.
    "Well, let me take you home then."
    "You don't have to, Terry."
    "No, really. I'd like to."
    "I have cab money. Ma makes me take a cab at night."
    "Are you downtown that much at night?"
    "Not really, but at work sometimes ..." She let her voice trail off. Downtown? What would he think when he saw what downtown was to her—the world in which she worked, and the world from which she fled?
    He put his coat on, feeling slightly sick. "Well, anyway, I can walk you to a cab stand."
    "Sure you can, big guy." Didi tried to defuse the glumness by bumping her hip into "Terry, a stab at Mae West, but it didn't come off.
    They crossed the room, Terry leading the way between the tables and desks. He imagined reaching back to take her hand, but knew how out of the question that was. Instead, he reached up and slapped a light fixture, which began to sway behind them, playing its beam back and forth across the