Radio and television mirror (Jan-June 1942)

ohm!b wtker Elizabeth, his home, his children meant everything to John Perry. But Marianne's golden youth was beckoning him to forget them all and follow her into forbidden realms of romance CopVTiotit l'J4l, Anne and Frank Hummert J OHN PERRY was in the middle of a busy afternoon. One duty after anotlier had kepi him chained to his desli in the Willison Department Store. He had no time to Iool< out thi? window and see the bright, jifiM'y October day, the faint touch of frost in the air, the people wallting with bounce in their steps, the whole street moving more briskly. John knew that Christmas wa.s coming only by the extra demands the .store made upon him. When Elizabeth was announced, he had a moment of slight annoyance. Then he shrugged it off and told the girl to send her in. The minute she stood in the ofliee he was glad. She brought some of the bright, frosty October day in with her. Her blue eyes danced, her step lilted, there were roses delicately etched on her checks. Before she spoke, John knew an instant of sheer appreciation. Elizabeth was all that any nian had a right to expect in a wife — and more, too. She had stuck by him, nursed him, forgiven him, mothered his children, shared his love, forgotten his mistakes and applauded his triumphs. And every once in a while as now he was struck again by her beauty — the mature, settled beauty that a fine woman wears like an ever present garment. "Hello, darling." he said. "You look good enough to eat." He got up and walked around the desk and took her in his arms. Elizabeth pretended to push him away, but John could tell from the warm look on her face that she wanted him to kiss her. "In a business office!" she said. "Come on down stairs, darling. We'll have a cup of tea. I need some time off." "In a minute," Ehzabeth said 14 firmly. "I want to talk a little business first." She pushed him backwards, into the chair behind his desk, then sat down on the opposite side. "This is the way you sit when you talk business, isn't it?" "Yes," John smiled. "Now what can I do for you, Mrs. Perry? Believe me, anything within my power is at the command of a woman with your beauty." "So that's what business is like," Elizabeth laughed. "I should have gone into it myself." "Moments like this are very rare, dear Mrs. Perry." Elizabeth dimpled at John's teasing. He caught the flash of happiness and adoration that came with her smile and was mirrored an instant in her eyes. "Seriously, John," she said, "I'm worried about Claire Bartlett." "Claire Bartlett?" John repeated. "You know," Elizabeth urged. "I was telling you about them. They've been having such a hard time. Harry's been out of work for almost a year." "Oh yes," John said noncommittally. "Poor Claire's been running a little book and gift shop," Elizabeth continued. "That one around the corner on Decatur Street, but it doesn't bring in much money and they do need more." Elizabeth hesitated at John's continued silence. She sat down and John sensed her disappointment. He shook his head dubiously. "You mean you'd like me to see if there's something open here for her husband?" "If — if you could," Ehzabeth said, some of the eagerness back in her voice. John shook his head. "I don't like to do those things," he said slowly. Marianne's fresh young voice seem' fo float about him. John listened— not moving, as Elizabeth quietij stood by his side, listening I""' RADIO AND TELEVISION "You know I hire people for their ability and not because they know somebody — even you, darling." 'I do know, John," He hked the seriousness in her voice. "And I thought a long time before I came '0 you, and I wouldn't have mentioned it unless I were absolutely sure that Harry is the right kind of man." "He hasn't shown it." John stirred restlessly, wishing he could end the discussion painlessly. "No. but he hasn't ever had a fjood opportunity. The last few ihmgs he tried fizzled out through no fault of his, and I think it took •^ome spirit out of him." Maybe," John said. And besides," Elizabeth went ■^n. "Claire has a sister — much .^■ounger—whom she's keeping in '■EBRUARV. 1942 music school in Chicago. Claire says she has a lovely voice, and unless Harry finds work, Claire will have to bring her back here." John smiled. "It's such an old story, darling. I've heard it a hundred times." Elizabeth's full mouth grew firmer. "Now, John, I won't let you dismiss this as just another hard luck story. These are good, fine people, and I intend to help them. If you won't listen to me, I'm going to ask Claire and Harry to dinner and you can see for yourself what Harry's like." "All right, Elizabeth, by all means do that. . . . Now can we have our tea?" "Yes." Elizabeth smiled again, and in spite of himself John's heart lifted. Later that day, and in the succeeding days, John forgot about the Bartletts and their problems. It was not until he got home from the store the following Tuesday and Elizabeth mentioned they were expected for dinner that he remembered them. Elizabeth slipped her arms around him in quick embrace and then ran to help Granny with the dinner. John went into the pleasant, wide living room with the big bay window fronting on the street. It was a small house, not really big enough for their family — little Carol and the baby, Joy, besides Elizabeth, Granny and himself — but John had liked this room ever since the previous year, when they had been forced to move from the big house on the hill. Sometimes he thought he liked this room better than any he'd ever been in. Then he realized that it was home to him. His books lined the walls, his pipes rested on the table, waiting for him, his family spent the day here. Yes, it was home. That was why he hked it. "Carol baby!" he called. "Daddy!" The soft, little-girl voice had scarcely died when Carol burst through the door from the kitchen. "Daddy, I'm helping Granny make soup." Her dress was spattered a rich tomato color. John swung her up in his big arms. "Hullo, baby." "I'm not a baby any more, Daddy. I'm a big girl." John laughed. "All right, sugarpie. No more baby. I'll put you right down. I'll never lift you again." "Oh. you can lift me, Daddy, even if I am a big girl and have to watch out for Joy." Her voice was as light and sweet in John's ear as a bird's note. Granny came in from the kitchen. "Bedtime, dear," she said, and bustled Carol off upstairs. John looked after them, waving to Carol through the banisters. "She's a wonderful child," he said to Elizabeth, who had followed Granny into the room. He put his arm around her. and together they watched Granny bundle the little girl upstairs with much waving and calling good night. Then the Bartletts came and soon they were at dinner. He had to admit to himself that he liked them both. "I may be an odd character." Claire said. "But I like the winter. The snow and cold make me thrive." "There's nothing odd about that," John said. "I'm part Eskimo too, I believe." Elizabeth laughed. "I can vouch for that. I have a hard time get