Free The Theoretical Foot by M. F. K. Fisher Page B

she said, “we’ve got to settle this business.”
    Joe kept twirling his glass between his enormous heavy hands and did not look at her.
    â€œOh, darling !” Her voice broke suddenly, sounding almost like a cry and she had to clear her throat for camouflage. “Don’t just sit there! I don’t want to sound like an hysterical female and everything but we’ve simply got to make up our minds! My boat sails in only a few days.”
    Seven days, she cried out within herself. Seven! Time’s passing, it’s growing late, it’s almost evening of one day and where is everybody? Sara? Tim? Won’t someone help me?
    Joe was still gazing downward and as Susan stared at him it seemed that he had never looked so handsome, so strong. She felt suddenly that he knew exactly what they were going to do. She was relieved and a little proud of his ruthlessness so that when he finally spoke his words were like a blow in the face, after the conviction she was certain she had seen in him.
    â€œI don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know.” He sounded miserable.
    For a moment she was too shocked and disappointed to speak. Then she said, in a weak voice, “But I thought . . .?”
    Joe put down his glass with a thump and finally looked at her squarely. His eyes looked hot and unhappy.
    â€œI don’t know what all this is about, Sue,” he said in a rather complaining tone. “I thought everything was all set. God, you know I can’t live without you. I thought you wanted to come to England with me. I thought it was all decided that you’d stay in London or someplace and then when I was through we could get married if you wanted to and . . .” His voice trailed off as he dropped his eyes.
    She sighed. What was the use? She felt very tired and her head still ached and here they were back in the same old groove, saying the same old things. She’d felt for a moment that now was the timeto finish all their arguments, that now, for some miraculous reason, they’d be able to decide, but she’d been wrong.
    Joe peered at her. Perhaps he felt ashamed as he looked at her tiny body with its weary bones, looked into her darkly shadowed eyes. Perhaps he wanted to finish things. He straightened his shoulders, then gulped his drink.
    â€œSusan!” he said, then grinned suddenly, infectiously. “You know, I feel as if I were going to have a tooth pulled or something and I wonder why?”
    Sue smiled back at him. “I’ve been feeling rather that way, too, darling, on the brink somehow? It’s the altitude maybe?” Now she frowned. “But you know, Joe, we really do have to decide what I’m to do. I thought I’d talk with Sara Porter. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. You know her and she seems like such a sensible person.”
    Joe looked over. “What makes you think so?”
    â€œWell, she’s quiet and she seems so resolute and . . .”
    â€œIt’s a funny thing about Sara,” he said. “Everyone speaks of her as if she were all that, so practical, so dependable, and she is ! And yet nobody knows anything about her, really, except maybe Tim. She never lets you know a single intimate thing. And yet she’s not the negative personality that that might indicate. She’s a force at least as far as I’m concerned and yet I don’t quite know her. God knows she never says a word about what she thinks or feels . . .”
    Sue stirred. “I thought I’d talk to her. I like her. I have the feeling she could tell me what to do.”
    â€œ I can tell you what to do. Stay with me. Oh, Sue, my sweet Susan, stay with me!”
    As he slid to his knees on the floor before her, his face seemed to crumple. His hands, cold from the sweating glass, pressed on her flushed cheeks, then down her throat and onto her tender pointed breasts. She shuddered, her free arm going round his heavy head.