Free The Cocktail Waitress by James M. Cain Page A

the floor. They’re so beautiful I knew you then. They’re the most beautiful legs in the world—anyway, the most beautiful I ever saw.”
    I could feel my face getting hot, and asked him: “Can I serve you something else, sir?”
    “After last night, I think I’d better stick to seltzer for a while.” Then, staring down at my legs—my bare legs, don’t forget, as I was wearing the chambray hot pants Liz had bought me the day before— he half whispered, as though really shook: “They’re really quite unforgettable, Mrs. Medford.”
    “… How come you know my last name?”
    “I said: We’ve met before.”
    “We haven’t—I’ve never seen you before.”
    “It’s possible you didn’t notice me that day—but we met, I assure you. You live in a bungalow, just up a ways from this place. I called for you there, took you home there, and stayed by your side in between.” “… When was this?”
    He named the day in June, and I felt the blood leave my face, for itwas the day Ron was buried. I stared at him, and suddenly asked: “Who are you? And what is this, anyway?”
    “Barclay’s my name,” he said in a casual way. “Thomas Barclay— Tom. I took the place of a friend’s son, Jim Lacey’s son Dan, who couldn’t respond to the undertaker’s call because he’d been out with me the night before. We’d gotten to drinking, I’m afraid—and you’ve seen for yourself how that can end up. But if Dan had simply failed to show, he’d have gotten the one more black mark the school had told him he couldn’t afford—in a word, he’d have been expelled. So his father asked if I would sub in: go for you in the car, pick you up and ride you over to the cemetery that day, and then ride you back. I didn’t much want to, I’ll admit, but his father’s an important man and I did it. And I was awfully glad I did. When you waved me goodbye, then blew me a kiss from the porch—”
    “I? Blew you a kiss? You blew one to me, I recall, but I did no such thing.”
    “I’m here to tell you you did. I couldn’t see your face as you had on a veil. I never did see it, that day. But I saw your hand move, under it and out.”
    “Do you hear? I did not blow you a kiss.”
    “I’m sorry, I was sure you did.”
    “I may have fussed with the veil.”
    “But you did see me blow you one?”
    “I couldn’t very well help it. And I confess I was greatly surprised. It seemed a piece of insolence, to a woman bereaved as I was.”
    “I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t done it first. It was only polite to respond in kind.”
    “I see, so you were being polite.”
    “If that makes you happier to receive it, certainly, let’s say it was politeness.”
    “I’d believe it more if you hadn’t made so much just now of how unforgettable my legs are.”
    “Can’t a man have two reasons?”
    “He can have as many as he wishes. It’s no concern of mine.”
    “Mrs. Medford, I apologize. I’ve made a terrible impression. I’d like to make it up to you. But I see here is not the place to do it—not with you waiting on me, and people watching. What would you say to my taking you out? Somewhere private, when you get through, some place where we can talk and get better acquainted.”
    “Thank you, that wouldn’t please me.”
    He had a way of smiling, a way of holding his head cocked slightly, that defied you to dislike him. “It might. You never know.”
    I struggled not to show any response. It was more of a struggle than it should have been. My heart had been warring with my head since the first moment I’d seen him, or perhaps it was something lower down inside me than my heart, and the battle wasn’t over yet. “Will there be anything else?”
    He put up his hands in surrender. “What do I owe you?”
    “I’ll get you your check for the seltzer.”
    Taking me home that night, it was Liz who began talking about him. “Not to be nosey,” she said, “but did Tom Barclay settle that check? The one he