Fuzzytimed Drama John was no expert on the subject of either the youth or of parties – his idea of a good time was sitting at home reading quietly, or shouting at quiz shows with his friends – but he thought he and people who were experts on the subject of the kind of parties generally enjoyed by the youth would agree unequivocally: Julian’s parties were absolutely dreadful. Why, then, did the newspapers seem to think they were interesting?
Absorbed with this problem, and with counting the minutes until he could disappear, he never saw her coming.
“Do you know who Julian’s talking to right now?” she drawled, uncomfortably close to his shoulder. John tried to conceal the flinch, but the flash of a smirk let him know he had failed.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” he said flatly, absently taking a sip of the cup of tea he had been nursing for half an hour, forgetting it had gone stone-cold some time ago.
“That’s Teddy Archer,” said Lenore, seating herself on the window ledge next to the odd structural corner John was hiding in. She wobbled a bit as she crossed her ankles and John had to try not to laugh. “He’s a wonderful asset if you don’t bore him, but I’m still surprised Will let Julian invite him. Most people would rather he not meet their wives at all, because he’s such a slut.”
This was stated so bluntly and cheerfully that his head turned to look at her before he realized. She looked as though she had said nothing unusual at all. “Because you’re in such a wonderful position to judge,” he managed finally.
Lenore shrugged. “I don’t,” she said. “That’s more your prerogative. Which reminds me – where’s your wife?”
“My roommate isn’t here, if that’s what you’re asking,” said John.
“Yes. Your…roommate.” Lenore looked very like a disapproving schoolteacher as she looked up at him. “Do tell me, Umland – “ she began, but cut herself off when William approached them.
“Lenore,” he said. “Have you – “ he stopped short when he noticed John, who raised his teacup in greeting. “There you are,” he said. “I thought you left.”
“I was just about to,” said John.
“Oh, don’t let Will run you off,” said Lenore. “It’ll be no fun for any of us if Julian sees you go so soon.”
“I think she’s busy with the alleged person of low morals,” said John.
John ignored him. “And Bill here wants a word with you, so there’s really no reason for me to take up this corner any longer,” he concluded.
“Yes, there is,” said Lenore.
“And what would that be?”
“Because I asked you to.” Her eyes were wide, innocent. “For your sister.”
Translation: because I told you to, because I want something – something I’m not going to say, because I find it amusing.
Well, two of them could play that game. “I promise I’m not that important to Julian,” said John. “At least not at – these shindigs. Besides – once you’re, uh, done with whatever William wants – once you talk to whoever that is, then what does she need me for when she’s got social butterflies like you around?” Lenore looked as though he had slapped her. He felt a distinct satisfaction, along with shame for feeling it. “William,” he said, nodding to his brother-in-law, and escaped before things got worse.