The High Cost of Living Read Free

ferries cross, isn’t it?”
    â€œThe Chesapeake and Ohio Car and Auto Ferry. Have you taken it?”
    â€œNever,” Honor said tragically. “We only noticed it on the map, Mama and I. One of those things you imagine doing. I dare say it’d be disillusioning—a second rate imitation of a real voyage on a real sea.”
    â€œWith a bit of wind you wouldn’t think so.”
    â€œReally? Does it get stormy?”
    â€œA tanker broke up out on Lake Michigan the year I left home. Broke in half in a storm. Nobody got off.” Defending her home now, as if she’d ever go back. But Honor had annoyed her. Really, she might be beautiful but she was ridiculously affected. Probably gone to some fancy private schools where they all tried to sound British.
    â€œI’ve never been anyplace. Except in my head. But being a tourist sounds tacky. I’d like to travel, but for some compelling, some inherent reason.”
    Leslie laughed. “Like being a fugitive?”
    â€œDon’t laugh at me, Leslie. I hate to be laughed at. I always find a way to punish Paul when he does that.”
    â€œWhen Daddy was going to take us all to Niagara Falls, you wouldn’t go,” Cam said suddenly, chin on the seat back.
    â€œWell, imagine going to Niagara Falls with Daddy and you and Mignon!”
    Mignon must be another sister, whom she imagined as older than Honor, just as beautiful and already interested in women. And throw in a legacy from a rich aunt. “Does she live at home too?” Please not.
    â€œNo, she’s in Columbus with her family,” Cam said. “Poor Mignon.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Cam yawned warmly in her ear. “We always say that. Why do we always say that?”
    â€œBecause she has three children at twenty-four, she’s sweet and darling, her husband only married her for her looks, and she’s losing them already.” Honor shook her head and her long hair slithered back and forth. “Stop, Leslie, right now!”
    â€œWe’re nowhere near your house yet.”
    â€œThat dismal-looking diner. We need to make Cam presentable.”
    â€œCome on, Honor. Cam’s an adult. Surely she can come in a little soused.”
    â€œNot wih her,” Cam said. “But I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
    â€œCamille! You can’t walk without shuffling!” Honor screwed around in her seat.
    â€œYes I can. Right past Mother dear. Nighty-night.”
    â€œBesides, she’ll be brimming with questions. You know.”
    â€œWhy didn’t she come to the play if she wanted to keep an eye on you?” Leslie parked and they walked back half a block. The all-night diner stood across from the gates of a Kelvinator plant and served the night shift. There were eight or nine men in the place, including two cops at the counter. Walking past them all to the booth, Leslie felt peppered with stares. She always felt conspicuous, but here were Cam in her purple satin jumpsuit and Honor in a long velvet gown.
    â€œBeen out on the town, girls?”
    â€œPartying,” Cam started to say when Leslie nudged her into a booth at the end. Edgily she pulled off her gloves and her left hand rubbed the callused edge of her right palm. She noticed she was sweating. But she was not really with Cam or Honor; neither of them, that is, was her lover, with whom she walked always warily, always in fear of being attacked. Her jaw gave a twinge and she discovered she was gritting her teeth. Neither Cam nor Honor seemed nervous. Cam was drunk past caring and Honor seemed flattered by the comments, the stir. She had taken several minutes shrugging off her coat before sitting in the booth.
    â€œLeslie, you look quite grumpy. Are we keeping you from something? Or someone?” Honor raised her little eyebrows, undecided whether to flirt or be annoyed.
    â€œOnly a room with the heat turned off.