Going Back Read Online Free PDF Page A

Daphne
Stoltz was no longer the clumsy, gawky college girl he remembered.
She was clearly a woman on her way, poised and accomplished. He
directed a silent curse at Andrea for having failed to warn
him.
    “Well, it’s only my opinion,”
Daphne said into the phone, “but if you’re planning to move in a
couple of years you’re better off with the variable. The rates are
going to have to go up eventually, but the variables are still a
couple of points lower. Either way, you’ve got to get the
application process started right away. If there’s a good chance
the interest rates are going up, the bank is going to sit on your
application.... Fine. Just get the paperwork started, and let me
know if you have any problems. Take care.” She hung up and swiveled
to face the doorway.
    “Hello, Daffy,” Brad
said.
    As soon as the words hit the air,
he regretted them. He ought to have called her Daphne; it would
have been more respectful. It was just that when Andrea talked
about her she usually referred to her as Daffy. Brad had called her
Daffy in college, but there didn’t seem to be anything particularly
daffy about her right now.
    She stared up at him as he hovered
in the doorway, awaiting an invitation to enter. The lenses of her
eyeglasses made her eyes appear flat, a pale green. She had on
lipstick, he noticed, also a pale hue. Her coloring seemed
strangely washed out, but Brad acknowledged that a darker lipstick
would have made her look like a clown.
    She wasn’t pretty. She hadn’t been
eight years ago, and she wasn’t now. But there was a directness
about her looks, an unpretentiousness that Brad admired.
    “Hello, Brad,” she said, her voice
as quiet and cool as it had been during the telephone conversation
Brad had eavesdropped on. He inferred from her impassive tone that
she intended to treat him the same way she’d treated the person
she’d been talking to on the phone: as a client. “Come
in.”
    “Thanks.” He entered the office,
surveying it one more time before he sat in one of the chairs
across the desk from her. His vision took in the calendar, the
African violet residing on one corner of her desk, the tidy oak
bookcase behind her. The leather upholstery of her chair. The plush
area rug. “What are you, the boss here or something?” he
asked.
    She favored him with a tentative
smile. “I’m in charge of this office, if that’s what you mean,” she
replied. She folded her hands above her blotter, and Brad focused
for a moment on the tapered shape of her fingers, the enameled pink
ovals adorning each fingertip, the amethyst ring on her right ring
finger. No wedding band, he noted. If Daphne had been married and
Andrea hadn’t informed Brad, he would have throttled Andrea the
minute he returned to New York.
    Not that he cared one way or
another about Daphne’s marital status. He just wanted to be
prepared, that was all.
    “So,” he said, wondering if he was
coming across as awkward as he felt. “How have you
been?”
    “Fine,” she said.
    A heavy silence descended over the
office. Brad shifted in his chair, balancing one leg across the
other knee. He inspected the brown leather loafer on his foot, the
length of khaki trouser covering his leg, the brass buckle of his
belt, the faint wrinkles webbing his cotton oxford shirt beneath
his jacket. Daphne’s outfit would be appropriate for the C.E.O. of
a multinational corporation, and here he was, dressed like a prep
school sophomore.
    “How did you wind up in real
estate?” he asked, anxious to break the silence. “That wasn’t your
abiding goal in life when we were in school, was it?”
    Once again, Brad wished he could
have retracted the words. He didn’t want to reminisce about when
they were in school. He didn’t want to dredge up old memories about
what an asshole he’d been back then. In his entire life, there had
been perhaps only two occasions when Brad had done something he’d
subsequently been profoundly ashamed of. One of