Read Online 79 Park Avenue by Harold Robbins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Harold Robbins
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were after her already.
He heard Katti's footsteps in the hall and got to his feet.
He was standing there, his face flushed, when she csime into the room.
She held out her hand, and they shook hands, man fashion. "Peter," she said, "you're too good to us. You shouldn't have brought the candy. It's so expensive.'*
He still held her hand. "I want to be good to you, Katti," he said huskily.
She withdrew her hand. "Sit down, Peter," she said, seating herself in a chair opposite him.
He studied her. She was a good-looking woman. Big and generously proportioned. An Old Country woman, not like these American women who dieted themselves into match-sticks. And a wonderful cook, too. He remembered the envy he had felt every time Henry opened his lunchbox. The delicious sandwiches she had made for him. All Peter's landlady ever packed was dried-out wurst.
He had always told Henry the reason he never married was that there weren't any more women around like Katti. Henry had laughed at him. Said he was too set in his ways to try to please any woman.
But it wasn't so. It was just that any woman wouldn*t please him. Katti was the kind of woman that could make him happy.
"I'm making some fresh coffee for you," she said.
"You shouldn't bother," he said awkwardly. "I don't want you should trouble for me."
"It's no bother," she answered.
They sat there silently for a few minutes, then she slipped into Polish. "You like Marja's new dress?"
He nodded, unconsciously answering her in the same tongue. "She's a big girl now."
Katti agreed. "Yes. She graduates on Friday."
"I know," he said quickly. "Henry had told me.'*
Tears sprang into her eyes, and she averted her face.
"I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean— *^
She waved her hand. "I know." The tears continued to run down her cheeks. 'Things get too much for me sometimes, and I can*t get used to it I don't know what to do. Henry always knew."
He was on his feet looking down at her. That was what he meant by an Old Country woman. They knew their place, and that it was a man's place to make decisions. A thought cgune to him. "Yes," he said solemnly. "He always used to say to me: 'Peter, if an>lhing happens, look after Katti and the baby for me.' "
The tears stopped as quickly as they had come. Katti looked at him with wide eyes. "He did?" she breathed in a voice filled with wonder.
He nodded silendy.
"Is that why you come to see us twice a week?" she asked.
"At first it was, Katti," he said, a sudden daring in him. "But not now."
She dropped her eyes to the floor. "Now why do you come?" she asked in a hushed voice.
"To see you, Katti," he said, feeling bolder than he ever had in his life. "I want to make a home for you and Marja."
A long moment passed before she spoke. Then her hand sought his. "Peter, you're so good to us."
Later, when the coffee was ready, they went into the kitchen. The pins and material had been cleared from the table, and Marja, who had changed her dress, was seated there doing her homework. The open box of candy was in front of her, and chocolate was smeared on her mouth.
She smiled at him. "The candy is deUdous, Uncle Peter.**
"I'm glad you Uke it, child," he said.
I
Book One. Marja 75
Katti had gone over to the stove. "Marja," she said over her shoulder as she poured the coffee, "how would you like Uncle Peter as a father?"
Peter saw the child's eyes widen. There was an expression there he couldn't fathom. "What do you mean, Mama?" she asked in a suddenly hurt voice.
Katti was smiling as she brought the coffee to the table. "I mean your Uncle Peter and me," she said. "We're going to get married."
"Oh, no!" Marja's voice was an anguished cry.
They both stared at her in surprise. She was standing, and the box of candy spilled to the floor in front of her.
Katti's voice grew stem. "Marja," she snapped, "you don't understand now, but you will when you grow up. It's not good for a woman to be alone without a man to take care
He heard Katti's footsteps in the hall and got to his feet.
He was standing there, his face flushed, when she csime into the room.
She held out her hand, and they shook hands, man fashion. "Peter," she said, "you're too good to us. You shouldn't have brought the candy. It's so expensive.'*
He still held her hand. "I want to be good to you, Katti," he said huskily.
She withdrew her hand. "Sit down, Peter," she said, seating herself in a chair opposite him.
He studied her. She was a good-looking woman. Big and generously proportioned. An Old Country woman, not like these American women who dieted themselves into match-sticks. And a wonderful cook, too. He remembered the envy he had felt every time Henry opened his lunchbox. The delicious sandwiches she had made for him. All Peter's landlady ever packed was dried-out wurst.
He had always told Henry the reason he never married was that there weren't any more women around like Katti. Henry had laughed at him. Said he was too set in his ways to try to please any woman.
But it wasn't so. It was just that any woman wouldn*t please him. Katti was the kind of woman that could make him happy.
"I'm making some fresh coffee for you," she said.
"You shouldn't bother," he said awkwardly. "I don't want you should trouble for me."
"It's no bother," she answered.
They sat there silently for a few minutes, then she slipped into Polish. "You like Marja's new dress?"
He nodded, unconsciously answering her in the same tongue. "She's a big girl now."
Katti agreed. "Yes. She graduates on Friday."
"I know," he said quickly. "Henry had told me.'*
Tears sprang into her eyes, and she averted her face.
"I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean— *^
She waved her hand. "I know." The tears continued to run down her cheeks. 'Things get too much for me sometimes, and I can*t get used to it I don't know what to do. Henry always knew."
He was on his feet looking down at her. That was what he meant by an Old Country woman. They knew their place, and that it was a man's place to make decisions. A thought cgune to him. "Yes," he said solemnly. "He always used to say to me: 'Peter, if an>lhing happens, look after Katti and the baby for me.' "
The tears stopped as quickly as they had come. Katti looked at him with wide eyes. "He did?" she breathed in a voice filled with wonder.
He nodded silendy.
"Is that why you come to see us twice a week?" she asked.
"At first it was, Katti," he said, a sudden daring in him. "But not now."
She dropped her eyes to the floor. "Now why do you come?" she asked in a hushed voice.
"To see you, Katti," he said, feeling bolder than he ever had in his life. "I want to make a home for you and Marja."
A long moment passed before she spoke. Then her hand sought his. "Peter, you're so good to us."
Later, when the coffee was ready, they went into the kitchen. The pins and material had been cleared from the table, and Marja, who had changed her dress, was seated there doing her homework. The open box of candy was in front of her, and chocolate was smeared on her mouth.
She smiled at him. "The candy is deUdous, Uncle Peter.**
"I'm glad you Uke it, child," he said.
I
Book One. Marja 75
Katti had gone over to the stove. "Marja," she said over her shoulder as she poured the coffee, "how would you like Uncle Peter as a father?"
Peter saw the child's eyes widen. There was an expression there he couldn't fathom. "What do you mean, Mama?" she asked in a suddenly hurt voice.
Katti was smiling as she brought the coffee to the table. "I mean your Uncle Peter and me," she said. "We're going to get married."
"Oh, no!" Marja's voice was an anguished cry.
They both stared at her in surprise. She was standing, and the box of candy spilled to the floor in front of her.
Katti's voice grew stem. "Marja," she snapped, "you don't understand now, but you will when you grow up. It's not good for a woman to be alone without a man to take care
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