Read Online For Love of Audrey Rose by Frank De Felitta - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Frank De Felitta
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thing in the world. Dr. Geddes tells me that maybe I could start coming home—for a night, a weekend—something like that.”
“I’d like that, Bill. I can’t tell you how much I would.”
“It sure is good to hear you say that. After all we’ve been through, you know, I wasn’t sure. I mean, it must have been terrible for you—having to put up with all my…” His voice drifted.
Janice reassured him, but he began to repeat himself. His voice grew weaker, and he pulled himself together, only to wish her good-night. Then he hung up. The apartment rang with silence.
It was an apartment waiting for someone. But whether that someone would ever come, whether it could really start all over again, with even half a faith in living, remained to be seen. For the moment, Janice was content that Bill was coming home, and that Ivy had entered his thoughts once more, and that he was overcoming his guilt and fear.
The next time she saw him, he was in a large room converted by the clinic to a kind of gymnasium. He was dressed in woolen pants with a drawstring, white slippers, and a gray sweatshirt, and he was pressing weights upward in rhythmic concentration.
Slowly, he put the long barbell back into the iron slot, ducked under, ran to her and wrapped his arms around her.
“How are you, darling?” he said, kissing her. “I bet I smell real good, don’t I?”
“Just terrific, Bill.”
“Why don’t you keep me company while I shower?”
“Are you sure that’s allowed?”
Bill laughed infectiously, wiping the sweat from his red face.
“You’re probably right about that, Janice.”
Bill disappeared inside, then poked his head out.
“Back in fifteen,” he called.
She waved to him, then stepped slowly across the mats on the floor, over two dumbbells that clanked when she accidentally hit against them. Ropes were suspended from a rafter, and there was a kind of machine to sit in and row simultaneously.
Dr. Geddes came down in his jogging shorts and a blue-striped jacket. He seemed surprised to see her.
“I guess I shouldn’t be here,” Janice said.
“Well, in your case, we’ll bend the rules,” he said, smiling broadly, coming closer. “What do you think? I mean, about Bill?”
“It’s wonderful. You’ve done miracles. I can’t believe the changes.”
“Well, he’s got a tremendous desire to get back together. And this physical exercise improves concentration, promotes self-confidence.”
Janice stepped closer to Dr. Geddes. He caught the changed expression and listened closely.
“Bill telephoned last Friday,” she said. “He wants to come home. For a night or two.”
“I know. Is that all right with you?”
“I would like that,” she said, flushing slightly, “but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea for him to leave.”
Dr. Geddes considered for a moment.
“I think it should be tried,” he said. “Bill wants to leave, and I’d like to promote that. Gradually. He’s still a little dislocated.”
“I just wanted to hear you say that, I guess.”
Bill came from the far end of the makeshift gymnasium carrying his favorite sweater, a thin gray pullover that had holes under both arms and was unraveled in five places at the bottom.
“Are you two conspiring against me?” he asked genially.
Dr. Geddes opened his mouth to answer but Janice cut him off, saying, “We were just saying that you look so fine.”
Bill laughed, but it was a trifle forced, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Come on,” he said, taking Janice’s arm. “Don’t keep staring at me. I’ve got a whole picnic planned.”
“A picnic?” Janice said, surprised and delighted.
Together, Janice and Bill went to his room, where Bill picked up a wicker basket heavy with wrapped sandwiches and a bottle of red wine, plates, and printed napkins. Bill stuffed in his blanket. Janice watched Bill working feverishly, pathetically determined to show her a good time.
He escorted her from the clinic and out to the
“I’d like that, Bill. I can’t tell you how much I would.”
“It sure is good to hear you say that. After all we’ve been through, you know, I wasn’t sure. I mean, it must have been terrible for you—having to put up with all my…” His voice drifted.
Janice reassured him, but he began to repeat himself. His voice grew weaker, and he pulled himself together, only to wish her good-night. Then he hung up. The apartment rang with silence.
It was an apartment waiting for someone. But whether that someone would ever come, whether it could really start all over again, with even half a faith in living, remained to be seen. For the moment, Janice was content that Bill was coming home, and that Ivy had entered his thoughts once more, and that he was overcoming his guilt and fear.
The next time she saw him, he was in a large room converted by the clinic to a kind of gymnasium. He was dressed in woolen pants with a drawstring, white slippers, and a gray sweatshirt, and he was pressing weights upward in rhythmic concentration.
Slowly, he put the long barbell back into the iron slot, ducked under, ran to her and wrapped his arms around her.
“How are you, darling?” he said, kissing her. “I bet I smell real good, don’t I?”
“Just terrific, Bill.”
“Why don’t you keep me company while I shower?”
“Are you sure that’s allowed?”
Bill laughed infectiously, wiping the sweat from his red face.
“You’re probably right about that, Janice.”
Bill disappeared inside, then poked his head out.
“Back in fifteen,” he called.
She waved to him, then stepped slowly across the mats on the floor, over two dumbbells that clanked when she accidentally hit against them. Ropes were suspended from a rafter, and there was a kind of machine to sit in and row simultaneously.
Dr. Geddes came down in his jogging shorts and a blue-striped jacket. He seemed surprised to see her.
“I guess I shouldn’t be here,” Janice said.
“Well, in your case, we’ll bend the rules,” he said, smiling broadly, coming closer. “What do you think? I mean, about Bill?”
“It’s wonderful. You’ve done miracles. I can’t believe the changes.”
“Well, he’s got a tremendous desire to get back together. And this physical exercise improves concentration, promotes self-confidence.”
Janice stepped closer to Dr. Geddes. He caught the changed expression and listened closely.
“Bill telephoned last Friday,” she said. “He wants to come home. For a night or two.”
“I know. Is that all right with you?”
“I would like that,” she said, flushing slightly, “but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea for him to leave.”
Dr. Geddes considered for a moment.
“I think it should be tried,” he said. “Bill wants to leave, and I’d like to promote that. Gradually. He’s still a little dislocated.”
“I just wanted to hear you say that, I guess.”
Bill came from the far end of the makeshift gymnasium carrying his favorite sweater, a thin gray pullover that had holes under both arms and was unraveled in five places at the bottom.
“Are you two conspiring against me?” he asked genially.
Dr. Geddes opened his mouth to answer but Janice cut him off, saying, “We were just saying that you look so fine.”
Bill laughed, but it was a trifle forced, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Come on,” he said, taking Janice’s arm. “Don’t keep staring at me. I’ve got a whole picnic planned.”
“A picnic?” Janice said, surprised and delighted.
Together, Janice and Bill went to his room, where Bill picked up a wicker basket heavy with wrapped sandwiches and a bottle of red wine, plates, and printed napkins. Bill stuffed in his blanket. Janice watched Bill working feverishly, pathetically determined to show her a good time.
He escorted her from the clinic and out to the
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