Read Online Falling Sideways by Kennedy Thomas E. - Free Book Online Page B

respected my confidence. He realized that she had recognized his own surprise at stumbling into his story. But he wondered if she wouldn’t tell Fred about it later anyway, so he thought he might as well plunge right on. “I was just telling Kirsten about how I went to a psychologist to help me deal with my divorce, with how it might affect my little girls.”
    “Anyone sees a psychologist should have his head examined.”
    “Fred!”
    “That was ironic, dear.”
    “Well, don’t be ironic about such things.”
    “Anyway,” said Jaeger, and wondered if he had any chance in hell of salvaging the humorous twist that had been his point in the first place. “This guy invited me home to meet his family. We really hit it off, and he was helping me, but he invited me home and it turned out he lived in one of those god-awful rows of ten-story shoebox apartment complexes in Rødovre. I had to take the train out to Glostrup, and he met me at the station and led me across Rødovrevej. Jesus, their main street was a bloody highway with a metal fence in the middle of it. He brought me up to his apartment, and honest to God … He was always reminding me to be frank with myself about what I felt about things, and when I saw the, the joint he lived in, I was like, frankly, how can you take psychological advice from a guy who lives like this?”
    Kis made a face at him. “Snob!” To Breathwaite, she said, “That was Harald’s response to my tale of a happy childhood in Rødovre!”
    “You told him that!”
    “What a couple of snobs!”
    “Time for some elegant whiskey,” said Breathwaite.
    “Not for me, thanks,” Kis said. “Harald, will you stay for dinner?”
    “Thanks, no, Kirsten, it’s nice of you to ask, but I have an appointment.”
    “And we all know about Harald’s appointments,” Breathwaite said.
    Jaeger laughed and let him believe it. At least he had that to envy.
    It was too chilly for the terrace, so they sat in the library and Breathwaite shut the sliding panel door. There were two bottles of malt on an expensive-looking table of dark wood between two red earflap chairs. “Did you want coffee, too?” Breathwaite asked. Jaeger smiled at the whiskey bottles and shook his head.
    “This one is a prize,” Breathwaite said, and measured out a dram for each of them into crystal rock glasses.
    Jaeger looked around for an ice bucket. “Got any ice?”
    Breathwaite smirked. “If you want ice, I’ll give you a blended. This whiskey is thirty years old. You want it neat. With just a drop of distilled aqua.” He applied water from a glass beaker. “Listen, you know how to taste whiskey?”
    “Yeah, with my tongue.”
    “Do yourself a favor, try it my way just this once. First, nose it pretty good, let your nostrils sort through the strands of aroma. With this one you can expect a mix of nuts and sweaty socks …”
    “That’s good?”
    “That’s very good. Then take a little bite of it onto your tongue, right in the center of the tongue, hold it on the tongue by curling the sides up. Then let it roll over the sides, and when all your taste buds are getting a jolt, breathe in, just a bit. Whoa, whoa, don’t inhale it! Just sip a little air into the chamber of your mouth and feel how it—”
    “Whoa!” said Jaeger. “Combustion!”
    “Right. Now let the whiskey roll slowly down your throat.”
    Jaeger sat back in his chair. “Jesus! I’m converted.”
    “Right? Good?”
    “Incredible.”
    They tasted again, and Jaeger closed his eyes with pleasure. “I always thought all that stuff was pure snobbery. It really matters.”
    “You bet it matters, buddy,” Breathwaite said, and reached across to a humidor and flipped up the lid. “Help yourself, Harald.”
    “Jesus, are you going to offer me a job, or ask me for a loan, or what?”
    “Suspicious little fucker, aren’t you, Harry?”
    They prepared their cigars in silence. It occurred to Jaeger as he inhaled the aroma of the Cuban tobacco