I'll See You in My Dreams

by William Campbell Gault

"For the blonde?"

"Don't be naive."

"If you're inferring that my wife, my Ann is going—"

"I only said Henri's making the trip. Maybe, just in hope. But how in hell will you ever know? Unless you're there, yourself?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Ted said. "You can look for another stooge, Lucifer. I love my wife...."

For seconds, Hamilton stared at Ted with those beady, black eyes. Then, "You're serious, aren't you. You're leveling?"

"I'm serious."

Hamilton looked at the nutmeg tree. "Oh, Truesdale, if you knew the story. If you knew what this meant." He started up the tree, and paused. "Well, there are others, plenty of them." He went quickly up the rest of the way.

Ted didn't even glance at the blonde, again, before going back into the house. He put some Cole Porter on the record player and sat by the fireplace.

Honolulu and Houston and Sweeney's and the country club merged in his mind as the whiskey drowsiness started to creep through him. He couldn't go to sleep, not before Ann came home. He had some things to tell her.