The Affairs of Others: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

out his own lighter and set after smoking, his face becoming a frown of distaste, taking it in and in. Getting the job done. Blowing out trees of smoke, making us all his audience. I don’t remember if anyone spoke until Hope offered, “Les lived in the same neighborhood as me a hundred years ago, in North Carolina.”
    Les nodded as he contained another breath.
    “I was the older woman.”
    “Not so much older,” he said to her, exhaling.
    “He knows my family,” she told us.
    He moved the hand that hung near me to encircle the back of her neck. “Do you have a roach clip?” he put to Darren.
    Darren nodded, and I saw Hope close her eyes and, with a slight adjustment that I’m not sure anyone saw but me, move herself back and into his hand.
    “Youth is willingness,” he said to her.
    “That,” sighed Josephina smiling, “is well said. Do you want some wine?” She was listless, but there was something else in her voice, too, a bluntness to match or impress his.
    “Scotch?” he asked her.
    “I’ll go,” said George. “Ice?”
    “Sure. Thank you.”
    “This is the place I’ll be staying from now on. This is George’s place.” Hope went through all our names. When George returned with the scotch, Les said, “Nice place, George.”
    “Celia here, beside me, is his landlady.”
    He leaned forward to look at me. He did not remove his hand from Hope’s neck. “Nice place, Celia landlady.” His eyes stared; they were deeply set and light-colored, maybe green, blue, and were lively until they became bored. Quickly. Obdurate.
    “Help me drink this,” he said to Hope.
    “I couldn’t. We’ve had so much wine.”
    “Help,” he breathed at her, “huh?” putting the glass to her lips, making the ice dance for her. We all waited to see what she would do. Nothing happened for a beat, and then with one hand she took the drink, pointed her gaze there, stared at it, and then sipped; while she did this she snaked her other hand into mine on the armrest, as if she needed me to steady her.
    “Is that Chivas?” Les asked George.
    “It is,” George said.
    “It’s good.”
    “It is.” George’s voice was not warm; it was withholding, careful. Either he did not want to spook this man or he did not want to allow himself to be spooked.
    “You off on a trip?”
    “With any luck,” said George.
    Hope continued to grip my hand as Les watched her sip his drink then return it to him and watched her do the same again, three or four times. He still kept one hand on her neck. She did not struggle against it once.
    Darren asked Les what he did for a living.
    “Whatever I have to do,” Les laughed, finishing his drink. “Like everyone else.”
    “Les is in finance. A hedge fund.”
    “That’s high-end gambling. Hardly an everyman’s sport.” Darren had found some courage, a trace of spirit in that half-dark room.
    “Close enough these days,” Les said, raising his glass to finish it. “Shall we go, then? Are you ready?” he said to Hope.
    “You’re leaving?” said Darren.
    I held on to her hand with more pressure. I whispered, “You don’t have to go.”
    “It’s okay,” she whispered back. “He’s an old family friend,” she added but without any reassurance or life in her voice. “He knew my mother.”
    She slipped from me easily and announced, “We have some catching up to do, Les and I.” She stood, took her coat from the rack. She then went and kissed all of us, even me, on cheeks or foreheads. Solemnly enough, one by one, while Les stood, hands in pockets again, change complaining. “I had such a lovely night,” she said as she moved to the door.
    “When will you be home?” George chased after her.
    “Not tonight,” she said quietly, leaning into George’s ear. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, but I believe we all heard it. We had crawled inside her somehow, and we didn’t want to go. “I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll go to the airport together in the