“What’s and everything?” Jerry asked. “Why board at a bum place where you can have only certain hours to practice and have to live by rules with a lot of lame ducks—I know the kind of girls in those places, their idea of jazz is Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes—when you can come here with us?”
There was a silence. Joy had not told her real reason. Of course, Jerry had not said so, but Joy felt certain that there was no chaperone in this apartment. And that was what would make it impossible for her father ever to give his consent to her staying there. . . .
“Of course I’m selfish in this,” said Jerry, “even if it seems to sound that I’m just looking at it from your side. But just Sal alone here with me is getting on my nerves. Not to slam her unnecessarily, but—three is a lot better than two.”
Joy thought: Father was en route to California. And suddenly she knew she had been thinking about this, beneath everything else, all along. Not that she meant to deceive father. But he was on his way to California, and it would take about six days for a letter to reach him, and how could he forbid at long distance, anyway—especially when things might be represented quite nicely? The New Englander in her had left in disgust. And the Southerner in her was laughing—she had been thinking this out all along!!!
“I—I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Jerry,” she said. “I’ll stay here with you a little while—if you really want me—just a little while—and I’ll pay you the money that father gives me for my board.”
“Sal and I get pretty rocky sometimes,” said Jerry reflectively; “a regular income will fit in O. K. But a little while has got to stretch out, Joy.”
Before she realized that things had been decided, she was being transported down the hall, with Jerry telling her that she could send for her luggage. “You don’t mind having the maid’s room, do you? It’s just called the maid’s room—we never have been known to have a maid—we chew on delicatessen delicacies when we don’t bum our meals.”
The maid’s room was striking to incoherency. It had started out with some uncompromising black walnut furniture which had certainly been compromised. The room had been recklessly done over in swift black and white effects, behind which the solid furniture pieces lurked and frowned. Just as Jerry dashed over to lift the black and white striped shades, a bell rang loudly and she struck a despairing pose: “And me not fully out of bed yet!” she wailed.
“Where’s Sarah?” Joy questioned.
“Sal? Asleep,—this is one of the days when we stoke up energy for the times to come.” The bell rang again. “Oh, what periwinkle has the nerve at this hour——”