Read Online Her Father's House by Belva Plain - Free Book Online Page A

telephoned, made an excuse, and went out for a hamburger with one of the new lawyers in the firm.
    This young man was lonesome because his wife was out of town visiting somebody in her family who was ill. She was pregnant, and he missed her terribly. But she would be coming back on Tuesday, and he was counting the hours, he said, unembarrassed to speak the words or to display the happiness on his face.
    He seems so innocent and so young, Donald thought as he walked home, although he isn't that many years younger than I am. Why do I feel so heavy and sad? Am I seeing a mountain when it's really only a hill? Am I?
    She had been waiting for him with something to tell him; this he saw on her face when he entered. He could not read whether the news was good or bad, only that it was important.
    â€œI'm pregnant,” she said.
    That night, he thought at once, the night of that party when we came home. In fact, he had even wondered about it later because he had taken no precautions; she had overwhelmed him.
    â€œAren't you going to say anything, Donald?”
    For once he was unable to speak. He could only put his arms around her, and blink away a few tender tears.

Chapter 5
    S uddenly, as when fresh air sweeps through an overheated space, there was a change in the atmosphere. There was a change in the tone, as if no voice had ever been harsh and no mean words ever spoken. Donald was determined that it should be so, for did not marriage, like the start of a new career or a move to another continent—yet a far more drastic change than either of these—require a time for settling in, or getting used to the newness?
    He still winced at the scorn she had flung at him, although he felt this was immature and served no end.
    In her own way, she apologized. “You're physically so powerful, so strong, Donald, that to look at you nobody would guess you are so soft inside. I really should try to remember it, shouldn't I?”
    â€œYou're quite all right as you are. Let's just be glad about this news. You are glad, aren't you?”
    â€œWell, it is a bit early and certainly unplanned, but I am. Yes. Of course I am.”
    At the office he heard himself being as ridiculously pleased with himself as all his friends had been when they made their big announcement. With some amusement, he saw his own future, carrying photographs in his wallet and trading the usual anecdotes about babies.
    â€œYou and Lillian really ought to go someplace,” one of his friends advised. “You're going to be tied down for a good long time. People don't hop over to Europe or California with a new baby, you know.”
    So the idea was born. In spite of all Donald's travels from Bangkok to Helsinki and in between, he had somehow skipped Italy; Lillian had often said she would love to see Italy again; therefore, they would go to Italy.
    He was glad to let her make all the arrangements for the trip, the clothes, the hotels, the itinerary, and the new luggage. Really delighted, she glowed with excitement as if, he thought, there were lighted candles behind her face. And with the thought there came an instant's recall of that day in the pocket park, of her blue eyes, and her voice, and her delicate fingers peeling an orange.
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    The weather was lovely, cool and sunny. In Rome they walked on cobblestones through narrow streets, past massive medieval palaces. They saw cathedrals, fountains, majestic statues, and some of the greatest art in the world. In a rented car they drove on shady roads between umbrella pines in stately rows; they wandered through Hadrian's villa one day and returned to the city for dinner at a restaurant in a garden walled by cypress trees.
    â€œI didn't need a guidebook or a guide,” he told her. “You must have been born here in another life, you know it so well.”
    â€œWait till you see Venice,” she said.
    â€œAre you sure you haven't been walking too much?” he said, worrying.