Read Online Emily & Einstein by Linda Francis Lee - Free Book Online
Authors: Linda Francis Lee
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bruises as if she had been working around the clock—or been hit. She walked up and took me from Vinny. “Really,” she said so softly that only I heard. “I don’t know why, but Einstein is different.”
Relief soared, making me weak, and for a second I leaned into her with whimpering gratitude. But when I looked back into her sad luminous eyes, my relief shifted and jarred, replaced by frustration. Sure I should have been nothing but grateful. It’s easy to see that now. But in that moment I realized that despite the fact that her life was threatening to fall apart, somehow she still managed to be a warrior who I couldn’t afford to admit was saving me once again.
emily
My mother was a woman with a grand appetite for the possibilities of life, if not the actual living. She was glorious and wild, demanding something from the world that it was never quite willing to give. When I was born she was certain she was a hero to women. In a time when the world didn’t want to change, she fought against complacency. How could you not live in awe of this woman who was my mother?
— EXCERPT FROM My Mother’s Daughter
chapter six
After I took care of the necessary paperwork, I walked out of the clinic with Einstein. I was stiff with shock. What had I been thinking? What in the world was I going to do with a dog? But I hadn’t been able to ignore Blue’s last frantic message that if I didn’t save Einstein, he was going to be put down.
With Einstein at my side, we took a cab to the Dakota. My new dog stood on the seat next to me, his paws on the armrest so he could look out the window. He panted excitedly at the sight of the light brown sandstone and brick building with its high gables and deeply pitched roofs, balustrades and spandrels, the porte cochere archway leading into the inner courtyard and entrance. During the day, the old building looked almost white in the midday sun. But at night, when the hundred-year-old gaslights that lined the property came on, the bricks took on the rich hue of melting caramel.
The doorman opened the cab door.
“Whoa,” Johnny said, stepping back when Einstein rocketed toward him. Thankfully, my new dog thought better of pouncing. E stopped and sat abruptly, then did the smiling thing that was like no other dog I had ever known.
Johnny laughed.
“Mrs. Portman,” the man said, extending his white-gloved hand to help me out. “You got a new friend?”
“You could say that. I adopted him.”
“Really? Hey, buddy.” Johnny leaned down and scratched the dog behind the ears.
“His name is Einstein,” I said.
“A smart one, huh?”
I glanced at the dog. “Smart enough to get me to take him home.”
Einstein led the way through the portico. As New York apartment buildings went the Dakota was on a short list of the most illustrious. The grande dame had seen her share of grief and joy, and had survived, built in a square around a large, open courtyard with two massive fountains and main elevators in all four inner corners. Since it was built in the 1880s, a long line of famous people had lived there. John Lennon was probably the most famous, mostly because it was in the portico that he had been shot. But there was also Judy Garland, Boris Karloff, and Leonard Bernstein—to name a few. A mix of famous, wealthy, and regular people lived there now.
I didn’t care about the famous residents. I loved the Dakota for its old-world elegance, its roots in New York’s past, and for the fact that it had survived over a hundred years of history and heartache.
We took the northeast elevator up, and as soon as it opened Einstein strode out, heading straight for the fine French doors with inset stained glass of my apartment. Just when I thought Einstein was going to stop at the front door, he glanced back at me as if considering, then continued on, sniffing around the large common area, peering down the series of descending stairs to the bottom floor.
“For a second there I
Relief soared, making me weak, and for a second I leaned into her with whimpering gratitude. But when I looked back into her sad luminous eyes, my relief shifted and jarred, replaced by frustration. Sure I should have been nothing but grateful. It’s easy to see that now. But in that moment I realized that despite the fact that her life was threatening to fall apart, somehow she still managed to be a warrior who I couldn’t afford to admit was saving me once again.
emily
My mother was a woman with a grand appetite for the possibilities of life, if not the actual living. She was glorious and wild, demanding something from the world that it was never quite willing to give. When I was born she was certain she was a hero to women. In a time when the world didn’t want to change, she fought against complacency. How could you not live in awe of this woman who was my mother?
— EXCERPT FROM My Mother’s Daughter
chapter six
After I took care of the necessary paperwork, I walked out of the clinic with Einstein. I was stiff with shock. What had I been thinking? What in the world was I going to do with a dog? But I hadn’t been able to ignore Blue’s last frantic message that if I didn’t save Einstein, he was going to be put down.
With Einstein at my side, we took a cab to the Dakota. My new dog stood on the seat next to me, his paws on the armrest so he could look out the window. He panted excitedly at the sight of the light brown sandstone and brick building with its high gables and deeply pitched roofs, balustrades and spandrels, the porte cochere archway leading into the inner courtyard and entrance. During the day, the old building looked almost white in the midday sun. But at night, when the hundred-year-old gaslights that lined the property came on, the bricks took on the rich hue of melting caramel.
The doorman opened the cab door.
“Whoa,” Johnny said, stepping back when Einstein rocketed toward him. Thankfully, my new dog thought better of pouncing. E stopped and sat abruptly, then did the smiling thing that was like no other dog I had ever known.
Johnny laughed.
“Mrs. Portman,” the man said, extending his white-gloved hand to help me out. “You got a new friend?”
“You could say that. I adopted him.”
“Really? Hey, buddy.” Johnny leaned down and scratched the dog behind the ears.
“His name is Einstein,” I said.
“A smart one, huh?”
I glanced at the dog. “Smart enough to get me to take him home.”
Einstein led the way through the portico. As New York apartment buildings went the Dakota was on a short list of the most illustrious. The grande dame had seen her share of grief and joy, and had survived, built in a square around a large, open courtyard with two massive fountains and main elevators in all four inner corners. Since it was built in the 1880s, a long line of famous people had lived there. John Lennon was probably the most famous, mostly because it was in the portico that he had been shot. But there was also Judy Garland, Boris Karloff, and Leonard Bernstein—to name a few. A mix of famous, wealthy, and regular people lived there now.
I didn’t care about the famous residents. I loved the Dakota for its old-world elegance, its roots in New York’s past, and for the fact that it had survived over a hundred years of history and heartache.
We took the northeast elevator up, and as soon as it opened Einstein strode out, heading straight for the fine French doors with inset stained glass of my apartment. Just when I thought Einstein was going to stop at the front door, he glanced back at me as if considering, then continued on, sniffing around the large common area, peering down the series of descending stairs to the bottom floor.
“For a second there I
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