has expanded. I knew that would happen when I proposed coming out here, but it has expanded downward and backward. When I think of what I had before, or what I was thinking, it seems literally flat to me. This is much more exciting.”
“What has it been? Almost eight months now?”
“Oh yes. But I have nothing pressing drawing me back to Minnesota, and now, with the fall coming, it’s very hard to leave California, isn’t it? Very hard, indeed. Much bigger when you get here than you thought it was going to be.”
“Isn’t that true of every place?”
“Is it?” It was true that Len had expanded since his arrival, both in size and in self-importance. It was as if he and Andrew were inflating each other.
Andrew said, “This picture looks like California.”
“It is.”
“But in a Japanese style.”
“I commissioned it. From Mr. Kimura, who did the rabbit.” He glanced over at the rabbit. “I paid him forty dollars.” He did not seem pleased. She said, “Pete was there. He said forty dollars was a fair price.”
Andrew sniffed and put his hands in his pockets, but his expression lightened. He said, “Good investment, then?”
“Pete thinks so.”
He stared at the picture for another moment, said, “Well, then,” in a conciliatory way, and went back to his study. Pete’s name worked like magic with Andrew. Len was a mere acolyte; Pete, an equal.
Then there were only five chicks. She counted them several times and walked about the pond, looking for the other two. She was surprised at how distressed she felt. That night, she even awakened thinking about it. But the next morning, all seven chicks were there, swimming and eating. She was reassured.
The next morning, she opened the door to Len and told him Andrew had already gone up to the observatory, but Len followed her into the kitchen and said, “Mrs. Early, I’ve noticed what a generous person you are.”
“Thank you, Len.”
“And you seem to be able to keep your own counsel.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She waited.
Len was looking at his shoes. “I wonder if you might help me with a little matter.”
“Captain Early—”
“I suspect this matter would be disturbing to Captain Early, given his straitlaced views.”
She wiped her hands with the dish towel and hung it up.
“My landlady says that she is going to sue me for breach of promise.”
“Breach of promise! Did you make a promise?”
“Only in the sense that I was lonely and found her daughter a sympathetic listener. She is very interested in astronomy and physics, and everything about the universe. We talked only about that.”
“Truly?”
“She’s a—she’s a—she’s a plain girl. And possibly no man has heretofore talked to her about anything at all. One night, we talked until very late, and I, ahem, I kissed her. Could you come with me to the house and talk to her? She would respect you. Perhaps my side could get explained.”
“What is your side?”
“Well, Mrs. Early, my side is that I’m already married.”
She eyed him, the perfect example of the fact that almost any man could procure himself a wife, no matter how unprepossessing he happened to be. Len could have procured himself two had he been more daring. “You came here eight months ago. What is your wife doing?”
“She lives with her mother. I hadn’t meant to stay so long—only for the winter. But Captain Early is very involving. Every time I say I’m finished with gathering material, he has a few more things that he simply must communicate. When I’m in his—orbit—I feel the—uh—gravitation of my other responsibilities fading.”
“Didn’t you tell me that you were unmarried? I mean, when you first got here.”
“I don’t believe I said anything about it. Our marriage has been … difficult.” He looked her in the face. “Many are.” Then he lowered his gaze and said, “I believe the separation has clarified …” His voice trailed off.
They went out to the Franklin. He moved toward the driver’s door, but she stepped in front of him.
“Oh, goodness,” he said, startled, “of course not.” He went around the back end of the car.
Len’s boarding house was on Carolina Street in Vallejo, up a steep hill. It was a nice enough bungalow-style house, large but a bit rundown, weeds beginning to claim parts of the front yard. The landlady was a Mrs. Branch, and the daughter, who looked about nineteen or twenty, was named Helen. She reminded Margaret a bit of herself at the same age. Mrs. Branch opened the door at their first knock. “You’re Mrs. Early,