Anyway, he couldn’t ask because Charlie was leading him into the living room and the kitchen was within easy earshot, and Charlie was saying, “Glad you decided you’d like a game of chess, George. Marge is going out tonight; movie she wants to sec down at the neighborhood show. I was going to that card game out of self-defense, but I didn’t want to.”
He got the chessboard and men out of the closet and started to set up a game on the coffee table.
Marge came in with a try bearing tall cold glasses of beer and put it down beside the chessboard. She said, “Hi, George. Hear you’re going away a couple of weeks.”
He nodded. “But I don’t know where. Candler—the managing editor—asked me if I’d be free for an out of town assignment and I said sure, and he said he’d tell me about it tomorrow.”
Charlie was holding out clenched hands, a pawn in each, and he touched Charlie’s left hand and got white. He moved pawn to king’s fourth and, when Charlie did the same, advanced his queen’s pawn.
Marge was fussing with her hat in front of the mirror. She said, “If you’re not here when I get back, George, so long and good luck.”
He said, “Thanks, Marge. ’Bye.”
He made a few more moves before Marge came over, ready to go, kissed Charlie goodbye and then kissed him lightly on the forehead. She said, “Take care of yourself, George.”
For a moment his eyes met her pale blue ones and he thought, she is worrying about me. It scared him a little.
After the door had closed behind her, he said, “Let’s not finish the game, Charlie. Let’s get to the brass tacks, because I’ve got to see Clare about nine. Dunno how long I’ll gone, so I can’t very well not say good-bye to her.”