The Logic of Grace

When one can find humor in the midst of heartache and betrayal then that one is a keeper.

     Grace stood looking at herself sideways in the mirror. It was four in the afternoon and George wouldn’t be home for another hour. She had bought a new dress earlier at the May Company and was now critiquing her over forty body in a light pink camisole, her dress still on the hanger beside the mirror. She glimpsed the face she made in the reflection and it didn’t look happy. Grace heard his keys in the front door, so she quietly closed the bedroom door. She wanted to surprise him with her pretty new dress before the show tonight.
He closed the front door and glanced over at the console table and saw her hat and gloves were gone. ‘She’s still out with the girls.’ he thought to himself. Then
“Googie?” he called out. 
Nothing. He walked across the living room to the kitchen and then back to the front door. Anxious and feeling bad, he poured himself a drink and paced the room. Sitting down on the sofa, finally, he reached for the phone. He stopped himself before picking up the receiver and opened his teak humidor instead and picked up a cigar. Shaking bad enough to spill his drink, George yelled
“D****t!”
Grace moved quietly through the bedroom putting her purchases away before letting George know she was home. She slipped back into her old black dress and freshened up her makeup. She heard him put ice in his glass and thought a drink would be nice. She blotted her lips and then heard him yell “D****t!”. She turned towards the door from her vanity and wondered what had him so upset. Grace was about to go and ask him when she heard him placing a call. She just stood behind the door and listened.

“Hey, Jack. It’s me.”
“Yeah, that’s not funny, Jack. Ya know I hate it when you call me that.”
“I know but it’s still not funny. Say, Jack? I’m in real trouble this time.”
“No. You know I don’t bet the ponies, Jack.”
“No, Jack. Would you stop. I’m serious right now.”
“Jack. Jack! Aw c’mon on, Jack. Put the violin down. I’m serious here. Don’t be an a*s.”
“Okay. Are you listening?”
“Alright...Do you remember that shiksa in the lobby the other night?”
“No, not the one that looked like Durante. The good looking one. The red head.”
“Oh boy, Jack. I fucked up this time.”
“You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? I’m dying over here and you’re laughing?”
“What do you mean, Did I enjoy it at least? No! Truth is...I thought about Grace the whole time.”
“For a whole five minutes? Oh, you’re a real card tonight, Jack. Say, why don’t you save it for the show later, Brother. I’m tired of carrying you.”
“Oh, you carry the show? Now you really are funny. But...seriously, Jack. What am I gonna do?”
“Uh ha, Uh ha. What? Buy her something nice?”
“Oh, buy here something expensive. Yeah, that’s rich, coming from you, Jack.’
“No. You know what I’m gonna do?”
“That’s right. I’m gonna tell her…”
Grace had heard enough and decided to scare the little schmuck.
“Oh, hi, dear. When did you get home?” she asked in her best stage voice as she walked out of the bedroom and across the living room to the side board. George was speechless. He just stared at her as she fixed a scotch with her back to him. George heard Jack say something about “Expensive” again, but from far off. Grace turned around with her fresh drink in one hand and her other on her hip. She smiled at him pointedly and said
“Tell Jack I said hi, dear.”
George suddenly heard dial tone in his ear as Jack hung the phone up just then.

Twelve years later, Grace was having lunch with Mary Livingstone, Jack’s wife. They sat in a corner booth at Musso & Frank Grill on the boulevard catching up with each other, when out of the blue Grace says
“I sure wish George would cheat on me again.”
Mary almost choked on her veal. Just as she recovered herself Grace continued
“I could sure use a new vacuum cleaner.”
The two women held the moment and then laughed until the waiter asked if there was anything else he could do.