Beautiful Day Read Online Free PDF

Doug had found that mean and
     unnecessary at the time, but he realized now that Arthur had not been complaining
     for no reason.
    “How was tennis?” Doug asked.
    “Fine,” Pauline said. “It felt good to work out some of my anxiety.”
    Anxiety?
Doug thought. He knew an attentive husband would ask about the source of his wife’s
     anxiety, but Doug didn’t want to ask. Then he realized that Pauline had anxiety about
     the upcoming weekend. He remembered the Notebook, now safely tucked into his suitcase.
    He swung his feet to the floor and loosened his tie. “Pauline,” he said.
    She pulled her top off over her head and unhooked her sturdy white bra. Her breasts
     were set free. Had they always hung so low, he wondered?
    “I’m going to shower,” she said. “And then I have to finish packing. We’re having
     lamb chops for dinner.” She wriggled out of her skirt and underwear. She stood before
     him naked. Pauline was not an unlovely woman; if he touched her, he knew her skin
     would be soft and smooth and warm. Once upon a time, Doug had been very attracted
     to Pauline; their lovemaking had always been a strong point between them. He allowed
     himself to think about having wild, ravishing sex right now, maybe up against the
     closet door. He willed himself to feel a stir of arousal. He envisioned his mouth
     on Pauline’s neck, her hand down his pants.
    Nothing.
    This was not good.
    “Pauline.”
    She turned to face him, panicked. She sensed, maybe, that he was after sex—which she
     explicitly did not allow during daylight hours.
    “What?” she said.
    “Did you take the Notebook from the restaurant last night?”
    “What notebook?”
    Doug closed his eyes, wishing she hadn’t just said that. He lowered his voice, the
     way he would have for a hostile witness or a client who insisted on lying to him despite
     the fact that he had been hired to help.
    “You know which notebook.”
    Pauline’s forehead wrinkled and her eyes widened, and she did, at that moment, resemble
     Rhonda very strongly, which did not improve her case. “You mean the green notebook?
     Jenna’s notebook?”
    “Yes,” Doug said. “Jenna’s notebook. I found it downstairs. Did you take it?” The
     question was ridiculous—of course she’d taken it—but Doug wanted to hear her admit
     to it.
    “Why are you being so weird?”she asked.
    “Define ‘weird,’ ” he said.
    “ ‘Define weird.’ Don’t harass me, counselor. Save it for the courtroom.” Pauline
     took a step toward the bathroom, but Doug wasn’t going to let her escape. He stood
     up.
    “Pauline.”
    “I need to get in the shower,” she said. “I’m not going to stand around
naked
while you
accuse
me of things.”
    Doug followed Pauline to the bathroom. He stood in the doorway as she turned on the
     water. This was the master bath she had shared with Arthur Tonelli for over twenty
     years. Pauline and Arthur had built this house together; they had picked out the tile
     and the sink and the fixtures. For the first few years of their marriage, Doug had
     felt like an impostor in this bathroom. What was he doing using Arthur Tonelli’s bathroom?
     What was he doing sleeping with Arthur Tonelli’s wife? But by now Doug had grown used
     to it. He and Beth had renovated their 1836 colonial on the Post Road until it was
     exactly to their taste, but after Beth died, it occurred to Doug that material things—even
     entire rooms—held no meaning. A bathroom was a bathroom was a bathroom.
    “Did you take the Notebook?” Doug asked.
    Pauline tested the water with her hand. She did not answer.
    “Pauline…”
    She whipped around. “Yes,” she said. “Jenna left it on the table at the restaurant
     last night and I picked it up.” She widened her brown eyes at him. When they’d first
     met, her eyes had reminded Doug of chocolate candy. “I
rescued
the Notebook. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take a shower. In peace.”
    “No,” Doug