(Author's Note: Legal Disclaimer: All names, places, trademarks and copywrites belong to their respective owners; I have not intended to defame them in anyway, nor claim to own any of the advertisements in this fan fiction. This is for entertainment purposes only.)
Chapter 11: Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
It was 9:00 when Michael, Joan and Ken pulled up with the Mustang in front of Joan's apartment building. There was a spot open by the front door and Mike took it quickly. He revved the engine once then killed it.
"Well, that was… an adventure." A timid smile creased Joan's red lips. "Thank you, both for taking me away."
"Anytime." Ken got out of the backseat and migrated to the front. "You know a few of us are going to Maxie's on 23rd and Lexington at 10 if you'd like to come?"
"I think being scared senseless with you boys was enough excitement for one night." Ken seated himself and shut the car door. Mike restarted the engine and it roared to life.
"Goodbye Mike" Joan looked towards him in the car. He brought two fingers to his head, held a half-smile and saluted. A look of minute disappointment flashed across her face and she turned to walk up the steps. Mike shifted the level and let off the clutch. He pulled out into traffic and sped off down the long road. Joan had taken three steps up to the brownstone, turned and watched as the car went from a white block with blue stripes to a tiny speck. She let out a sigh and walked inside.
Donald Draper was sitting at his office desk alone at 9:12. He didn't have much to do that evening but work. Roger was nearby drinking on the sofa.
"What do you think was up with the skipper today?" Roger mused.
"I don't know." Don said plainly as he rotated the paper on his desk. He continued writing in silence until Roger began speaking again.
"He got pretty angry you know, wouldn't want him to blow up at a client." Roger drank another sip.
"I doubt any clients test him like you do." Don still hadn't looked up from his work.
"Test him how?"
"Oh don't pull that with me. You know damn well. Your competitive edge is crushing you because you feel inadequate."
"Inadequate! I'm miles ahead of him! I have my own company, my wife, a great life."
"Right. Yet you feel the need to push his buttons, all the time." Roger sat silently after that remark. He pondered for a while and slowly said,
"I guess I do. Sometimes I just feel like I need to give him a hard time, you know? Just because he's got it so easy."
"No, you feel that need because Joan and he are closer than Joan and you." Don stood up from his chair and walked over to his open filing cabinet. "You need to concentrate on work. We have Viacynth coming in within the week and we still haven't had a brilliant idea."
"We're working on that." Roger piped up, offended at Don's suggestion.
"I'm sure you are. Now I'm leaving, so I'll see you tomorrow." Roger followed Don out of his office and down the hallway. Roger slipped his fedora on.
"We'll pull through, we always do. You should go out tonight, relax, and have a drink."
"Thanks but I'm having a meeting with Betty. I'm going to be late if I don't leave now, so I need to go."
"Suit yourself." They stood in the elevator quietly.
Betty Francis had chosen an old park her and Don used to walk around often. It reminded her of better times, even though it was covered in darkness. There was a shallow lamp by the bench she was seated on, and she was near a roadway where she could see Don's Cadillac approaching. He pulled up to the curb and descended from the vehicle. It lurched a bit and the door slammed closed. He walked up to the bench and sat down beside her.
"Betty." He said as he parted his trench coat.
"Don, how was work?"
"Tiring as usual. Didn't get much done with Roger reeling over me the whole day."
"That's too bad." She lit a cigarette and smoked it gently. "So how are your women?"
"They are non-existent." Don himself lit a cigarette. He inhaled and the exhaled the smoke through his nose. "I though you read my letter." Suddenly the memory flooded back into her mind and she could see his handwriting on the yellowing paper. "I know you'll find someone quickly, but I'll be alone forever. –Don." She felt sadness, not pity, but true sadness for him.
"Oh… I see." She continued smoking her cigarette.
"How's Henry?" he looked at her through the cloud of blue-white smoke.
"He's good. Busy with work like you. With the campaign coming up and all: he has many late nights." She looked away with an awkward smile.
"That's good." Don pulled another drag.
"Yes… so the kids are good."
"Yeah?" he looked over at Betty. "How's Sally's therapist?"
"She's good; she said Sally doesn't need treatment anymore.'
"That's good." Don dropped the ashes in a nearby ashtray. "No more wasted money."
"I don't think it was wasted Don. Sally is much different now, she's more aware of her life. I feel like she's accepted things… more." Betty inhaled on her cigarette.
"Well if you think so." He leaned back and put his arm across the back of the bench.
"I do… anyway. I just wanted to talk. We should have monthly meetings to discuss the kids' lives. I think it's important that we keep an active involvement in their life." Don looked surprised.
"Okay, well you set the date and let my secretary know." He smiled cockily and Betty smiled back.
"So what is new at work?" Betty looked into Don's eyes.
"We hired a new guy. He's very efficient, gets too caught up in emotions though. Good guy."
"I guess he's like you Don." He looked to Betty and pondered that thought.
"Yes… I guess you're right." Don looked off into the thick of dark. Betty leaned down on the bench and exhaled deeply.
"Well I feel bored. To be honest. Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this." Don leaned into his hands.
"I'm listening." He said quietly, looking over to her.
"I feel like I'm falling into the same story that will just repeat itself. I sit a home, with the kids at school. I have no friends in the neighborhood: I mean I call Francine every now and then but our neighborhoods are different. The people are different. The problems are too. Cheating seems so much more common in the richer estates. I've already been approached twice."
"That's not surprising." Don added. Betty looked offended.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, you're beautiful. Naturally men would seek you out quickly." he looked over to her. Betty was shocked and replied,
"Oh… why thank you Don." His kindness surprised her. She smiled at him and Don smiled back.
"Honestly just keep being vigilant and find a hobby. Don't be of the world but live in it. Stand above it all. Keep your head up Betts, you'll do fine." He leaned forward and dropped his cigarette on the pavement, snuffing it with his shoe.
"Do you regret it?" Betty looked into his eyes.
"Do I regret what?"
"What you did." She looked perplexed.
"Every moment of every day." He looked away to avoid her eyes.
"Oh... really?" Betty felt as though she shouldn't believe him, but something in her told her he was being honest. "It's nice to hear that after all this time."
"Well it's true." Don stood from the bench. "Are we done here?"
"I suppose so. Would you walk me to my car? I don't like wandering around the parks at night." Betty stood beside him and tightened her coat. Don motioned for her to lead the way. They walked in silence for a while and then she spoke. "I appreciate this. It's nice to talk civily." Don didn't say anything. They reached the black Lincoln and she turned to face him.
"Again thank you Don." Betty smiled: she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. She immediately backed away and blushed. "My goodness… I'm so sorry. It's just been a long time… and well, you know what it is." She evaded his gaze.
"If you're going to make a mistake, do it right." Don put his hand on her chin and turned her face towards his. Betty managed to squeak out,
"Don.." and then he kissed her. Her eyes remained open and she was terrified, but did nothing to stop him. Eventually she felt that soothing feeling in her stomach and she closed her eyes and kissed him back. Her brain screamed at her but what's done was done, and honestly she needed some differing affection. She could feel how different Don's kiss was from Henry's: it was like night and day. Don was more vigorous and took charge, whereas Henry was tender and very light. Deep inside of Betty she liked this Don, who took over.
Don pushed her into the Continental and she leaned into him. The street was empty and Betty reached for the rear door handle, pulling it open. She slid inside and pulled Don by the tie, who smiled and climbed in behind her.
Joan had just opened the door to the apartment and put down her things when she saw a note on the table.
"Saw you went out with your buddies in the new car. I'll be home later. Much later." Joan sighed and threw the letter in the trash. She sat down on the couch, let down her hair and turned on the television. The news updated of some ship sinking off the coast and then some boring advertisements popped up. She turned off the TV, picked up a book, and slid on her glasses. 9:30 approached with ease and then followed by ten. She looked at her watch and thought. "I guess they're starting now…" Her lips twitched in dilemma. At 10:10 Greg stumbled through the door in a drunken stupor.
"You're home early." She didn't look up from her novel. Greg threw his coat onto the floor and kicked his boots into the wall.
"Didn't think…. I'd see you here…" He jumbled the words. "How was screwing your friends?" He laughed.
"Don't say that Greg. I went for a drive with my friends. That's all."
"Oh yeah…?" he reeled towards her. "Why… should I believe you?"
"Because I'm telling the truth? You're drunk and need sleep. Go to bed."
"I don't want to. I want to have fun." He over-smiled and showed his stained teeth.
"You certainly won't be having any of that fun tonight." The grin slipped away from his face quickly and turned to an angry frown.
"Yes I will." He grabbed her arm.
"Greg. Let go of me." Joan was scared but kept confidence in her voice.
"Why should I?" he loosened his grip on her arm. She released tension and stood from the couch.
"You need to go to bed. You need to sleep off this drunkenness. When you get up tomorrow, we'll talk." Greg looked over to the bedroom and stumbled up.
"Fine Joannie… don't be a bitch."
Joan grabbed his tie which was hanging down and pulling his face towards her, she struck him across the cheek with such intensity that he tumbled to the ground.
"Ow! Shit!" he yelled.
"I'm going out tonight Gregory. I'll be back later. Much later." Joan stepped over his body and put on her heels. She was decently dressed for an outing: a work dress would just have to do. Once downstairs, she hailed a cab.
"Maxie's on 23rd and Lexington please." She shut the cab door behind her. Greg was yelling obscenities out the window. Who cared?
"So how bout this place?" Ken smiled and waved his hand around. The club was very well built: it had blue and green neon lights and was structurally a semi-circle, with the middle of the circle being the band and brass sections, and the further you moved out, the more tables there were. The final ring was the elongated bar which wrapped around the entire interior.
"Pretty swanky, my friend." Mike laughed.
"This place is like a chick magnet. They come here to find guys crawling in cash and having a good time written all over their face."
"Is that what we're here for?" Mike smiled at him. "I thought it was for the music and drinks."
"Oh it is, but a little pleasurable company couldn't hurt, hey Mikey?" Ken winked.
"Married man? Tsk tsk."
"Hey, I can look but I certainly won't touch. Besides, Cynthia is joining us in a half hour when she gets back from her mothers."
"That sounds more like Ken Cosgrove." Mike laughed deeply. Harry Crane waltzed up to the men leaning on the metal railing.
"Gentlemen." He leaned on the railing as well. "How is the evening going thus far?"
"This just in, three lonely saps leaning on a rail talking about dancing watch as other people have actual fun!" Ken sounded so much like an announcer it scared them. Harry piped up,
"Yup that's us." Crane had a drink in his hand which he indulged in quickly.
"How many of those have you had?" Mike questioned.
"Three."
"Three?!"
"Alcohol doesn't help your dancing Harry, it makes you worse."
"Yeah, yeah, screw off." Ken smiled at Mike and they laughed. Cynthia and Jennifer walked through the door at the same moment. They were both talking with each other and Ken waved them over.
"Aren't you ladies looking beautiful tonight!" they giggled. "Finally some dance partners." Harry added. Mike felt a pang in his heart for a moment, then he spoke up,
"Go have fun. I'll be at the bar waiting till' later."
"You sure? No man left behind."
"I'll be fine Ken, go ahead. Warm up the floor." Mike smiled and walked slowly to the bar. Ken and Harry lead their wives down to the dance floor and began jiving to the music.
"Scotch on the rocks." The bartender spun around and grabbed a bottle of Glenfiddich, pouring it into a wide-bottomed glass. He dropped ice in and handed it to Mike who took a long slow sip. The music was really catchy and Mike started tapping his foot. He began moving to the beat and spun around straight into a red head in a light blue dress.
"Good evening sir." She smiled at him
"I feel like I know you from somewhere." Mike smiled shyly.
"Well you did drive me around in your new car just a few hours ago, but that might be someone else."
"Oh, oh yes, now it's coming back to me. I thought you said you were too busy and tired!" He ran his hands through his hair in nervousness.
"I guess not tired enough. Will you finish that drink with me?" she looked into his wandering eyes.
"Of course." They both went to sit on bar stools. "Sazerac cocktail." She ordered. "How have you been?" Joan turned her attention to Mike.
"Great… just great." He looked past her.
"Tell me the truth." She pried
"I'm alright."
"Michael…"
"I'm terrible. I feel horrible for putting you through all this. All of this indecision in your life. I know it's terrible on me, let alone having to deal with the stellar war hero of a husband. I should just butt out. I just can't help myself you know."
Joan paused before responding. "Mike you shouldn't feel bad. It takes two people to make things move along. I was very into it… am still very into it. Greg isn't all he's built up to be. I do love him but he's so harsh and forgetful sometimes. The military has changed him and I don't like it much. Right now, he's in bed and terribly drunk. I needed to get away." She took a sip of the drink as it arrived.
"Oh… well I'm sorry. You know I'm here to talk..."
"Isn't that what we are doing?" she smiled.
"I guess so." He returned a genuine smile. "Dance with me?"
"That's why I came." Joan felt good being a little bolder this time.
It didn't take much time for them to reach the floor and begin quickstepping to the big brass band. The box step followed and was really the safest bet for Mike. He laughed watching Jennifer try explaining it to Harry, who of course messed up the easiest dance moves in history. He kissed her gently on the dance floor that night too.
It was 1:30 when they left in Mike's Shelby Mustang and drove through the darkened streets towards his apartment.