Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1950)

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For glam. orous eyes buy Kurlash today. $1 and $1.25 at cosmetic counters. The Kurlosh Co., Inc , Rochester 4. N. Y to dinner with him. Impulsively I hurried out and took a taxi to his office. The luxurious suite, covering a whole floor, was as empty as a museum closed for the night, and almost as frightening. As I went through the outer office, vacant chairs, pushed back from their desks, had a waiting look, as though people had just that moment risen from them and would sit down again as soon as I passed through the room. Hurrying down the corridor to Dad's office, I tapped and pushed open the door. But that was empty too. Maybe Dad had given up working late in favor of some new and better excuse to keep from having to go home to dine with Mother! I bit my lip hard against its sudden impulse to tremble. This wasn't much of a homecoming — closed doors, empty rooms, silence. Was it an omen — a foreshadowing of the future? Was it to be like this from now on, just me alone, walking down echoing corridors, looking for I didn't quite know what — and never finding it? "Come, come," I told myself sharply. "Let's not wallow in self-pity. All you had to do was wire Dad you were getting in, and he'd have met you. The plain truth is you're disorganized and frightened about being on your own again, and you're just plain feeling sorry for yourself." Frightened about being on my own . . . yes, that must have something to do with it. My marriage hadn't been much, but at least it had meant having an escort when I needed one. Neil had always been graceful about that — knowing the good places to eat, finding taxis when there weren't any. I sat down at Dad's desk and sighed tiredly, wondering if I could face having dinner alone. Without warning a tear rolled down my cheek, and then another, and then to my amazement I was burying my head in my folded arms and sobbing loudly and complainingly into silent room. Me! I hadn't wept a real tear in — I couldn't recall how long. Not even when I found out about Neil and Sylvie Cameron. Even as I bawled I couldn't help thinking, "But what in the world am I crying about?" If there was a knock at the door, the sound of my sobbing drowned it out. All at once I felt a movement beside me, and a concerned male voice said, "Good heavens, are you ill? Can I help you?" For an instant I was terrified. The office was empty, I hadn't seen a soul somebody had been working late, and I just had missed looking into his office. I raised my head, grateful for the darkness of the room. It was a young man who was bending over the chair. A very good-looking young man, as nearly as I could j udge in the half-light. A long, strongboned face, serious eyes, a wide mouth that quirked humorously as he said, "Thank goodness. I was afraid for a minute you'd fainted." "With all that noise I was making?" He said apologetically, "Well, I haven't had much experience with faints. Then he smiled. "Better now? In that case, I don't mean to pry, but would you mind telling me if you were looking for somebody special? I mean — everyone's gone home, you know, and this is the boss's office — " "I know," I said. "I'm his daughter. Have you got a handkerchief?" He took one from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. He was looking a little stunned. "But when did you leave Reno? D.W.'s been waiting to hear from you — I know he planned to meet your train. Didn't you let him know? Gosh, what a way to come home." In the midst of trying to repair my face without light enough, I sniveled. He was making me feel sorry for myself all over again. Then I managed to laugh. "Cut that out, will you? I'm already floating on a sea of self-pity. I just felt I was a big enough girl to come home by myself and find my way to the hotel without help. I guess I over-estimated myself, as usual." As nearly as I could make out in my compact mirror, my make-up wasn't too badly streaked. Feeling a bit more poised, I snapped shut the case and said pleasantly, "By the way, how do you know all about me? It's too bad, but we never have met, you know." Perching on a corner of the desk, he laughed a little. "True. But we have more in common than you know, Mrs. Weatherby. My name's Bill Roberts." "How do you do," I said. Then the name rang a bell in my mind. "That Roberts? The one Dad sub-let my apartment to?" "That one. It was quite a break, incidentally. When I first got the job here and we came on we were simply hopeless over the housing difficulties. I don't know what we'd have done if your father hadn't steered us to your place. I think you'll find it in good order. My wife's an excellent housekeeper." He added grimly, "I hope D.W.'s got something else up his sleeve for us, now you're back. Personally, I haven't heard of an apartment vacancy of the kind we could swing since we've been in New York." I shuddered. "Forget it. I've got myself a room at the Roosevelt for the time being, and I wouldn't go back to that apartment for love nor money. It holds no gay memories for me, you know." Self-pity again! Another minute and I'd be weeping on that nice broad shoulder. I pushed back from the desk and got up, stretching to uncramp my back. "I'm starving," I said, surprised that I hadn't noticed until now. "That's what's wrong with me! I might have known — I always get depressed when I'm hungry. I'd better go get a sandwich." Bill Roberts hesitated, then appeared to come to a decision. "Listen — have dinner with me, won't you? My secretary went down for some drug-store stuff, but that can go into the trash basket — that's all it's fit for anyway. Why should we eat lonely sandwiches when there are two of us?" "Why indeed?" I said, smiling. Then abruptly I remembered the 'we' he had talked about. "On second thought, you're supposed to be working, aren't you? And if you're not you ought to go home — from what I know of Dad's young executives, Mrs. Roberts probably has to eat plenty of dinners alone while you're here late. He always works them hard." He looked confused. "Rosemary? But she isn't here. She's back home in Springdale, visiting her folks. You'd be doing me a favor — I haven't eaten a meal since she went." "Oh. In that case, yes. I must protect my father's investment by helping you keep up your strength." Bill laughed. "I'll get my hat and be back in a second." While he was gone, I switched on the desk light and gave my face a few fin