Chapter 22

After the Sunday supper, fried chicken as usual, they sat around the table and talked about money. Seth tried to stay out of it, and Robert insisted on taking the lead, much to his mother's consternation. Sammy did his best to sidetrack his brother.

"What happened to that mademoiselle what's-her-name?" Sammy asked after Robert finished describing the merits of investing in radio stocks.

"Who?" he said, looking puzzled.

"The one you had out here at Christmas, you know, with all the furs," Sammy said, smiling across the table at his wife who was trying to get him to stop.

"Went back to Paris," Robert said quickly, "durn if she didn't have a husband I didn't know about."

"Guess you were lucky," said Seth, chewing on his pipe stem. "Fellow might have owned a sword or a pistol."

"I suppose, but to get back to this money you have inherited, Polly, I really don't think you ought to stick it under the mattress or bury it in the back yard."

"We were thinking about property. That's how my father had invested for the most part," Polly said. "I still have three small farms out near Madison with good tenants."

"Property's pretty dear right now, at least building lots; prices are going up all over the place, especially down near the District Line." Robert looked disappointed. "Anyhow, I urge you not to put all your eggs in one investment; you know what I mean, one basket."

"That certainly sounds like good advice," Caroline said. "What do you think, Jenny?"

"I think it's awful nice to have a rich sister-in-law. Are you two going to keep the store?"

Sammy shook his head. "Sure, why not, think I'd just sit around and count her money?"

"She's the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo," Jenny sang happily.

"Who did?" demanded her older boy. The younger one was off playing somewhere, building with blocks judging from the sounds coming from the sitting room.

"Aunt Polly, now get along," said his mother, mussing his hair.

"We are going to buy some new furniture, I think, things for the baby," Polly said, "and I'm getting some pieces from my folks' apartment."

"Well, it's a terrible shame, all those poor people," Caroline said, wringing her hands. "It's hard to imagine a roof caving in like that."

That quieted the table, and they moved to the parlor and admired the tower young Jason had built and then watched his brother kick it down. The usual tussle ensued, and Jenny got boots and mittens on the boys and took them outside, a scarf about her ears.

"Sammy suggested we keep Daddy's Packard, but I really don't want to see it. We'll get a car pretty soon." Polly lowered her eyebrows at her husband. "Won't we?"

"Radio's the thing," Robert said, once he had their attention again. "Did you hear about the Dempsey fight they broadcast? There are three or four stations in Washington already, and I can get KDKA clear as a bell most nights."

"But what good is it?" Sammy asked, exasperated. "Most folks don't even have electricity yet, not out here. Only reason we do is that we're right on the Pike and the car line."

"What good, why music and talks, the advancement of knowledge, entertainment, election results, lots of music. We can hear the president's speeches." Robert spread his arms widely. "The whole world, everything."

"You want to hear Warren Harding," Sammy said with a laugh, "what in the world for?"

"Are you planning on buying a new truck?" Caroline asked. "One you won't have to crank?"

"I might, but old Bessie's OK except that big snow split her top right down the middle. Shouldn't have left it up I guess." Sammy leaned back and then put his chair on its feet after feeling his mother's glare. "Might hire a driver so I can stay in the store. I think Jenny and Polly are both going to be busy with their offspring pretty soon."