Private affairs : a novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

him all the time, invite him to parties, hang around, tell him how wonderful he is . . . Stars have plenty of friends. You know that, Mom."
    "I know they have hangers-on," said Elizabeth. "People who hope to get on television or have some glamour rub off on them. But I wouldn't call them friends. Anyway, not the kind you'll have when you find people who like you just because you're Peter Lovell and fun to be with and interested in lots of things and very lovable."
    "Oh, Mom." Peter met Elizabeth's smiling eyes and, almost reluc-tantly, grinned. Then they were both laughing and he gave his mother a quick hug. "Thanks."
    Elizabeth kissed his cheek. "Give it time, Peter," she said gently. "You'll have friends. And girls, too."
    "Yen, well. . . ."He shrugged. "I suppose. Is he coming here?"
    "You mean Tony?"
    "Right."
    "He might, in a few weeks."
    "I don't know why you like him."
    "There are lots of reasons for friendship, Peter. And it isn't necessary to explain them."
    He shrugged again and wandered around the kitchen, nibbling pine nuts while Elizabeth took meat and chiles from the refrigerator. Why do I like Tony? she asked herself. He makes me feel dull and backward—but he also brings me the excitement of the outside world and sometimes I need that. And he makes me laugh and feel young, and there are lots of times when I need that, too.
    But Matt is the one who should do that. Cutting the meat into cubes, she frowned, wondering again what was the matter with her. Why, all of a sudden, did she keep thinking of things that were wrong? Well, maybe not all of a sudden; maybe those thoughts had been cropping up for months. But they seemed to come in a deluge since Zachary died.
    And then there was the wedding that afternoon, reminding her of all the passion and excitement and hope that had been in her parents' garden sixteen years ago. Where were they now? Somewhere along the way, they'd just . . . faded. And what did she and Matt have left? A pleasant,

    friendly marriage, calm and stable, that hadn't changed or given them any surprises in years.
    But we're happy, she said. We have a good life, a wonderful family, a home, our own business. ...
    She slid the meat into hot oil in an iron skillet, stirring the cubes as they browned. Maybe we have the perfect marriage. Sixteen years of passion would have left us a pair of frazzled wrecks.
    Ruefully, she smiled. It might be nice to be a frazzled wreck once in a while. And then the front door was flung open and Holly rushed in.
    "Hello, hello, hello, isn't it the most beautiful, wonderful, marvelous, perfect evening?"
    "You got a part," Peter said.
    "Two parts." She danced about the room. "You are looking at the first high school freshman in history—and I won't even be a freshman till September, but it doesn't matter—the first one to get two solo parts in the College of Santa Fe summer choral concert. You are looking at a future star!"
    They were looking, Elizabeth thought, at a lovely young girl, almost a woman, flushed with excitement as she took another step in growing up, away from childhood, away from home. Both my children, she reflected, only a few years from going off to make their own lives. How had it happened so quickly?
    "Mother?" Holly asked. "Aren't you happy?"
    "Of course I am," Elizabeth said. "And proud." She hugged Holly and, as she felt her daughter's arms tighten around her, it struck her how much she loved her children, and how busy and rich and fun they had kept her life, masking a fading marriage. As if she stood apart, she saw herself with Holly, their blond heads close together. Hers had darkened over the years, like Lydia's, to a golden bronze so that Holly was the ash blond now, with Matt's deep blue eyes, Elizabeth's high cheekbones and slender face, and a pure soprano voice all her own—the only singer in either the Evans or Lovell family. "But I must say," she told Holly, "I'm not surprised. I've always known you're wonderful and I've always been