Ships of My Fathers Read Online Free PDF Page B

way down the alley. “Mikey, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there at the wake. I didn’t hear until this morning.”
    He did what he could to bury his face in her shoulder, but all he got was a face full of her hair. “It’s ok. It was crew stuff, and I… oh God, Annie. Isaac said the most awful…”
    She pulled back. “Hey, what’s wrong? I mean, you’re out awfully late. Where are you staying? Let me walk you back.”
    He shook his head. “I’m not going back there. They said that Mom and Dad… even Isaac. They say Dad’s not my real father.”
    She reached up and tussled his hair. “Oh that’s crazy talk. Let’s go get you back to your bed.”
    “No, Annie. You know the truth, right? Dad said he’s known you forever.” Annie was Dad’s most regular portside girl. Michael had figured out a few years back that there was some kind of money involved, but Annie had always been there for them: trips to the park when Dad had business, shopping for new clothes, even something approaching family dinners. Dad had other girls in other ports, but Annie was the closest thing Michael had ever had to a surrogate mother.
    She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve known Malcolm since before the war. I was about your age when I first met him.”
    “Then you must remember him and Mom, you know, Sophia. They’re telling me I’m adopted, that Mom was married to some Schruber… Schneider guy. But you know different, right?”
    “Oh, Mikey…” she replied, but the look in her eyes told him all he needed to know.
    “No,” he pleaded, “don’t...”
    “I see how much you’re hurting, Mikey. Do you really want the answer, or do you just want me to make it all better?”
    He collapsed to his knees and buried his face in her belly once more. He had not yet cried over his father’s death, and now that he finally was, he did not even know who he was weeping for.

Chapter 4
    “A friendly woman is a nice thing to have around. A wife… well, that’s something different.” — Malcolm Fletcher
    A NNIE SAT OUT IN THE front room with her crochet work. The repetitive nature always helped soothe her nerves when she was upset. After an hour of weeping, walking back to her place, and more weeping, the boy was finally asleep on her bed in the back room. Dawn was still a few hours away, but she knew she would not be able to sleep.
    The front door opened, and Josie stumbled in. She was still in her party clothes, but her hair was all disheveled. She dropped her bag on the table by the door and only then looked up to see Annie sitting there.
    “Oh shit!” she cried.
    “What?” Annie asked, keeping her voice low.
    The younger woman shook her head. “You startled me. What are you doing up so late? You said you weren’t going to work tonight.”
    She shrugged. “Something came up. Can we talk a minute?”
    “Sure, but I gotta hit the crapper first.”
    “Ok, but keep your voice down. I’ve got company back there.”
    “But you said you didn’t—”
    She shook her head. “Get yourself settled and come back.”
    Annie went back to her crochet. At the moment it looked like a shapeless lump of black yarn, but when she finished it was supposed to be a tease-worthy wrap she could wear over one of her red dresses on cooler evenings. She worked to the end of the row and tied it off just as Josie returned.
    The younger woman was draped in a loose robe and sipping from a bottle of orange soda. Annie used to like the stuff too, but her tastes had refined with age. Josie’s teen years were not so far behind her for her to have given up the sweet drinks. She plopped herself down in the papasan chair opposite Annie and sprawled one leg out onto the coffee table. “So, who’s your company?”
    “I’ve told you about Malcolm Fletcher, right?”
    “Sure, I met him last year.”
    Annie was surprised. “Really?”
    “Yeah, you and I did a double with him and that corporate guy from the clearing house.”
    Annie nodded, remembering. “Oh yeah,