Read Online Balls by Julian Tepper, Julian - Free Book Online Page B

lobster. Paula, surrounded by Henry, her father and stepmother, on the day of her graduation, with twenty-five grand in her pocket, was bursting with confidence.
    Raising her glass in the air, she said, To learning nothing at college. Here here .
    To learning nothing? said Denise, aghast.
    I was born for the real world, Paula told her. At ten I should have jumped in. Dad, why didn’t you push me?
    Push you out of the house? Never, he replied with a shake of the head.
    Paula said, I’d have been ready, and she took a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket. A waiter rushed to assist her, but she waved him off. Setting a full glass on the table, her blue eyes emitted glee. She wore a strapless black dress that stopped at the thighs. Her solid legs were crossed. She sat up tall, her grin full of self-belief. Addressing her father, she said, I could have used my time better, that’s all I’m saying. Life is short.
    Marcel, his robust shoulders becoming even fuller now, said, You’re a very smart woman. You’ll understand why I did what I did one day.
    Did you fear the professional world would have made me unrecognizable to you? It could still happen.
    Marcel flashed her a look of horror. Paula saw this. She kissed his cheek.
    I’m just saying I’ve got a lot to do.
    And you’ll do it all.
    Henry was perfectly still in his chair. Only his eyes moved, back and forth, from one speaker to the next. But even this was exhausting.
    What I want is hard to get, said Paula. Her arms were crossed, her chin up high. Some atrociousness will be necessary.
    Like what? demanded Denise.
    Yes, like what? said her father.
    Henry took his glass of champagne and shot it back. His throat burned from the carbonation, tears filling his eyes.
    I’ll have to be even more hard on myself.
    Your mother taught you discipline. Every morning she woke you at four a.m. to do your scales.
    Daddy, I’m grateful she did. I wouldn’t be here if she had let me sleep.
    She’s missed so much in these last thirteen years. But she saw you at Carnegie Hall.
    You’ll always bring that up, said Paula to her father, adoringly.
    Marcel smiled, the memory coming back to him. Paula was in the Five Under Ten Masters-to-Be concert series. She played Schubert. She brought down the house. Your mother was so proud of you that day.
    She made me go home and practice after the show, said Paula, unemotionally. Mistakes had been made during the performance.
    She was hard on you, her father admitted.
    I could take it, said Paula, clicking her tongue.
    She removed you from school for two years shortly after.
    And my playing shot up.
    Her father agreed, with a solid nod of his head. But for you those were hard times.
    That’s not how I remember them.
    A lot of tears.
    We all need a motivator. I had the best.
    You did, Paula.
    She told me I would be one of the great violinists of my time.
    She told you that, seconded Marcel.
    I’m sorry she’s not here today.
    But she saw you at Carnegie Hall.
    You’re right, Daddy, she did.
    When lunch concluded they strolled uptown along sunny Madison, window-shopping. Henry was impatient to go home. Still, he gawked with Paula, her father and stepmother, at dresses and diamond jewelry in windows. Then his phone began to ring. It was Dahl. Henry went cold. Without saying anything, he fell back behind the Mills’ and answered. Dahl asked him if it were a good time to talk. Henry said it was as good a time as any. To which Dahl assured him that these first days would be especially hard, he should go easy on himself.
    We have some important things to discuss. So, if you’d just give me your attention for a moment. I want to schedule the orchiectomy for this Monday. What do you say?
    This Monday? said Henry. That’s three days from now.
    If we could do it today, we would.
    This is all coming so fast.
    I understand.
    You’re sure it has to be Monday?
    I’m sure,