Lion House,The Read Online Free PDF Page A

been my nephew! I'll admit I've made an honest try, Jo; but you can lose a leg unfettering yourself from a setup like that..."
    "It doesn't show at all," I said. "Not the kids, or Marc either. I wouldn't have known if it hadn't been for the law firm and the mention of Mill Pond. Not that I ever know who's what anyway...I never think of it," I added, flushing just slightly at the partial lie.
    "You don't have to think of it," she said. "I do."
    We were quiet for a few minutes. It wasn't until after I'd poured her another drink that she carried the conversation back to Brad. "He must have been really something in those days," she began.
    I was always pleased to dwell on Brad's looks. They were, I think, one of my major rationalizations for putting up with him. "He was incredibly beautiful," I said.
    "He still is."
    "Not as," I told her. "You should have known him then. I've got a picture upstairs. Shall I go get it?" I went before she answered. It was a little snapshot in a silver frame, sitting on the bedtable next to one of my father. I stood there for a minute looking at both of them, even though doing that always made me feel like hell. Brad's reminded me too much of the past and the crawling of time, towards what end I didn't know; and my father's had been taken on our old lawn just outside of Providence a week before he'd died of pneumonia brought on by nothing more than a common cold and no real interest in living any longer.
    I picked up Brad's and carried it down to Frannie.
    "Hey..." she breathed, and then she brought both legs up, feet on the chair edge, and stared at it between her knees.
    "Nice?" I asked, leaning over her from behind with my chin just brushing the top of her head.
    "Dorian Gray..." she murmured. Then, passing it back to me over her shoulder: "Take it!"
    "What's wrong?"
    "Nothing," she half-laughed. "I was just thinking of that portrait in the attic!"
    "Come on," I said, "he isn't all that bad." But the analogy had hit me and when I put the picture down on the sink top I turned my face away to hide my irritation.
    Frannie had a wrist watch on that day (the same one she was later to lose), and when she glanced at it, she whistled. "Have to leave immediately!" she said. "We're going to the Perloff's for dinner."
    "Oh, stay awhile. Brad'll be home soon. He'll want to say hello to you."
    "Can't."
    "Oh, come on. Please."
    I don't know why it seemed suddenly to matter so much, to matter at all, that she wait and see him. But there had been something exciting in telling her about our early relationship, in showing her the picture of him when he was young. Or maybe the remark about Dorian Gray was still cutting me. Maybe I wanted him to walk in and charm her out of the conviction she had that he was — inessential. Maybe it was twenty other things. I didn't know. I only knew that I wanted her to wait.
    She was still refusing when I heard his car in the driveway, and he was in before she could get out. "Hi, darlings," he said, putting an arm around each of us. His body between us seemed to act as a kind of conductor and I could almost feel her tighten on the other side of him. Then he dropped his arm from me and the current was broken. "Where are you rushing?" he asked, still holding her close.
    Carefully, deliberately, she freed herself. "Dinner party."
    "Oh." His face fell.
    "You could —crash," she said hesitantly. "Jeri and Len. It's not as if you didn't know them."
    He brightened. "Bring our own bottle?"
    "The Perloffs have enough bottles for everyone," I put in. "The point is: you weren't invited."
    "Invited? What do you need —an engraved announcement from Tiffany's? Frannie's their friend, and Frannie invited us."
    "You might call them first," Frannie suggested.
    "I'm not calling them first," I said. "I'm not calling them at all."
    She left then and Brad walked her out to the car. It was quite a while before I heard the motor start up and even longer before he came in again, looking, I thought,