Read Online Jane by April Lindner - Free Book Online Page A

of the fathers for whom I’d babysat, except maybe for the tattoo on his forearm.
    “Maddy’s almost asleep,” I told him. “But if you slip in and give her a good-night kiss, I don’t think it would disturb her.”
    “I said good night to her already,” he replied, somewhat gruffly. “It’s you I’d like to talk to.”
    I followed him downstairs to the living room; he motioned for me to have a seat in the armchair opposite him. Though the night was warm and the air-conditioning on, someone had lit a fire. I sat.
    For a while he sat in silence, feet up on an overstuffed hassock. I waited for him to begin the conversation, and when he didn’t, I considered what he might want me to do or say. Copilot stretched out in his usual spot before the fire and looked up at me with mournful liquid-brown eyes. A moment passed and he stood, walked over, and dropped his heavy head in my lap. I scratched him between the ears, glad to have something to do. Just as I wasabout to ask Mr. Rathburn if he had something particular in mind, he straightened in his chair. “I don’t need to call you
Miss
Jane, do I? I’d rather just call you Jane, if you don’t mind.”
    I tried not to smile. “You’re the employer, Mr. Rathburn,” I reminded him. “You can call me anything you want. Well, almost anything.”
    The sides of his mouth twitched. “Yes, well. There’s something very formal about you.” His eyes were dark and piercing as they searched my face. “You say you’re from Philadelphia?”
    “From the suburbs. The Main Line.”
    “Are your parents rich, then? Are you some kind of debutante?” I continued to meet his gaze, expecting his eyes to glance away at any moment, but they didn’t. “I know that’s a rude question. I don’t believe in wasting time. I’m not good at small talk. Are you?”
    “I’ve never liked small talk. And I’m not a debutante.” It seemed such a strange question. “My father was a dentist, and my mother was a homemaker. We had enough money, but I don’t think we were rich by your standards, Mr. Rathburn.”
    “Was?” He signaled for Copilot to lie down. “You say your father
was
a dentist. Is he retired?”
    “My parents died in an accident.” By now I could make this statement with an unbroken voice. “About six months ago.”
    His expression remained unchanged. “Don’t you have any family?”
    “A sister in Manhattan, but we’re not close. And I have a brother, at least I used to, but he isn’t very stable. He disappeared last winter, and I don’t have any idea where to find him. I don’t think he would want to be found.”
    “What about friends?”
    “I had a close friend at Sarah Lawrence, but she moved back to Iowa.”
    He thought for a moment, then continued. “Why did you drop out?”
    “I couldn’t pay my tuition.”
    “Your parents didn’t leave you any money?”
    “The stocks my parents left me turned out not to be worth much. My sister did a little bit better; she inherited some money market accounts, I think. And my brother was named executor of the will. He sold the house and kept the money.”
    He leaned in a bit closer. “You don’t seem bitter.”
    “Should I be?”
    “Most people would be. In your shoes.” He got to his feet. “I don’t imagine you drink?”
    I shook my head.
    “Stay here.” A minute later, he was back with two glasses of ice and a bottle of mineral water. “Bottoms up.”
    I took a sip. I had been thirsty without realizing it. He sat back down. “Do you mind my asking so many personal questions?”
    I thought a moment. “No. I don’t mind.” I wasn’t just being polite. It was a relief to speak plainly and not have to hide my situation, as though it were something to be ashamed of.
    “Are you lonely?” he continued. “The most personal question yet.”
    “I used to be. But I’ve gotten used to spending time by myself. And I haven’t felt alone since I’ve been here.” As I uttered the words, I realized