Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/149

 "Oh, it shouldn't be too late … You know how it goes … There's always something coming up … Shouldn't be any later than eight."

"I've got a date at seven."

"Seven?"

"Uh huh …"

"We'll probably be home by then."

"Maybe you won't … I know how it is when you get around an oil derrick."

He didn't want to lie and it disturbed him. He watched his father puff the cigarette. Did his father guess it was a lie? Know he didn't want to go with them? He knew that Le Claire was wanting him to go along … trying to shorten the gap between them. He also knew that he could learn from his father. Le Claire's name meant something to the major oil companies, and his judgment and words were respected … Perhaps he could learn why Le Claire was liked by everyone. He had made many new friends, old friends had continued with him in spite of his. good luck. Perhaps he could become like his father. He had never been happy in this new home but his father was. The new home had become as home like as the shack in the oil field; the wealthy oil men as real as the roughnecks, and the imported gabardine slacks as easy to wear as the tan dickies he remembered his father wearing before they had moved to Cotton.

And now as Gaylord watched the smoke rising from his father's cigarette, he was thinking how hard it must have been. Toiling over conference desks, oil maps, leases, going on long trips … all this because of them. How else could he have been able to buy him all the things he had? Clothes, furniture, car … yes, his beautiful car. And he had repaid all this kindness with a lie. Now, like sand from a clenched fist, he was slipping further away from his father … and his dad had tried so hard.

He had to say something and finally managed to get out, "I wish I could go with you and mother, Dad … If I didn't have plans for tonight."

"That's all right … There'll be lots of other times … Guess it is better you don't go today … We'll be late sure … It always works that way …" 139