Read Online The Celebrity by Laura Z. Hobson - Free Book Online Page B

again and again, my own son. Gregory. Not Thorn, who had always been successful at everything, in school, in college, in business, but Gregory. The one who had always been—if she had to admit it, which she had never done to one solitary soul all her life—her favorite son. Parents should never have favorites, and among the girls she had none. But from the instant they had put Gregory into her arms nearly forty years ago, so puny, with such a weak little cry—from that moment, something fierce had welled up in her heart. And when Gerald had looked at him and said, “He’s good and long, like his brother was, but no husky bruiser, is he?” she had burst into tears.
    Gerald kept right on comparing the two of them, even when Gregory was old enough to understand. She had often gone at Gerald about it, but he was forever getting the two of them to “make a muscle,” talking about Thorny’s husky build and how much he weighed. Thorny would barrel out his chest like a boxer and absolutely shine with conceit while poor skinny Gregory would look on and marvel.
    Anyway, it was Thorny’s turn to do a little marveling, now, and that was only right. This thought had in it so much—Geraldine hesitated, searching her heart—so much spite that she was shocked. She was being unfair, really, for Thornton was as happy last night as the rest of the family; his delight and excitement had been a beautiful thing to see. You might have thought, watching him, that this great good luck was happening to him —
    “Deeny, oh, Deeny.”
    It was Fanny Heston’s voice, somewhere behind her, and she turned quickly, but couldn’t see anybody. Gerald didn’t like “Deeny” for a nickname but all her close friends went right ahead with it, and Fan was one of her closest. Just then, Fan came in sight, stepping out of the recessed entrance to Smith’s Hardware, and they went toward each other eagerly, both calling out, “Hello, stranger.” This they always regarded as a delectable joke, since no more than three days ever went by between visits. Fan and Jim Heston were the Johnses’ oldest friends and neighbors; even after the Hestons had moved to the outskirts of town, they had never lost touch and presumably never would as long as telephones and cars existed. Fan’s arms were loaded with bundles, but, Geraldine thought, she’s as straight in the back as a woman of fifty.
    “You were going to phone me.” Fan stopped short and added, “Deeny, are you sick?”
    “Heavens, no.”
    “But you look worn out.”
    “Why shouldn’t I? I never slept a wink all night.”
    “Why not?” Fan immediately set her parcels on the sidewalk, and said urgently, “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Then why couldn’t you sleep a wink?”
    “Nothing bad, I meant.”
    “Something good! What was it?”
    Geraldine couldn’t help smiling. Just running into Fan, just chatting idly this way—her spirits had already risen to the level they’d been on before seeing Amy. She was considering this phenomenon of the emotions when Fan said, “Deeny, what? ”
    “I can’t tell you, not just yet.”
    “A secret? About what?” Fan moved closer.
    “I’ll tell you in a few days.”
    “That’s not fair! Teasing me, when we’ve always—”
    “I’m not trying to tease you, honestly, Fan.” She was flustered. How on earth had this started? “It’s just something that happened last night and I never closed my eyes. Gerald didn’t either.”
    Fanny Heston cried, “What kind of thing?”
    “Just something about Gregory.” That far she could go but wild horses couldn’t make her go further.
    “About Gregory?”
    “About his new book.”
    “Has it come out?”
    “No, but it’s—” She bit her lip and again thought of the breakfast table.
    “I won’t tell a soul, if you say not to. You know I won’t.”
    Geraldine sought frantically for some skill which might help her deflect this conversation to other matters, but her mind refused her.