Terms of Endearment by Larry McMurtry

Author:Larry McMurtry [McMurtry, Larry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780684853901
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2010-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

1.

AT THREE that afternoon Emma and Rosie began to lose their nerve. Aurora’s annual dinner party for Cecil was due to begin in only five hours, and nothing had been done. Trevor had been given breakfast and had gone away at ten, back to his yacht, and Aurora had disappeared into her bedroom for a nap. She had disappeared merrily, it seemed to Rosie, and had promised to reappear at one, but Emma had shown up at one to help, and the two of them had waited together for two hours, hearing no sound at all from upstairs.

“If she danced all night she’s probably just tired,” Emma said several times. “If I danced all night I’d be tired, and I’m young enough to be her daughter.”

The wit, such as it was, was lost on Rosie, who was chewing a hangnail. She shook her head.

“You don’t know your ma like I do, honey,” Rosie said. “Dancin’ just peps her up. That woman’s got energy to spare, I can tell you that. She ain’t asleep—she’s up there mopin’. That’s why I always hate to see Mr. Waugh come to town. She has a good time while he’s here, but the minute he leaves things go bad. I never seen such sinking spells as she has after Mr. Waugh leaves. She’s up there having one right now.”

“How do you know? I think she’s just asleep.” Emma was trying to be optimistic.

Rosie continued to nibble at her cuticle. “I know,” she said. “I don’t get this nervous for nothing.”

When three o’clock came around both of them knew something had to be done. Aurora would be madder at them for not intervening in time than she would be for having her nap interrupted, Emma reasoned. Rosie gave the nap theory no credence, but she agreed that action was called for and reluctantly followed Emma upstairs. The door to the bedroom was closed. At the sight of it they both lost their nerve and stood stupidly in front of it for two minutes, until the spectacle of their own cowardice became intolerable. Emma knocked softly, and when there was no answer timidly pushed the door inward.

They both saw at once that Aurora was up. She was sitting at her dressing table, in her blue dressing gown, with her back to the door, and she gave no indication at all that she had heard it open. She was staring at the mirror, and her hair was in wild disarray.

“We got the bull by the horns now, honey,” Rosie said. Mostly out of a desire to protect Emma she hurried into the room as if nothing was wrong and went straight over to her boss. The look in Aurora’s eyes was the look Rosie most dreaded—a look of clear, unfocused hopelessness. Her face was composed, but it was not the face of the gay woman who had had such a good time at breakfast, only a few hours before.

“All right, quit mopin’” Rosie said quickly.

“Momma, please,” Emma said.

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