Read Online Michael’s Wife by Marlys Millhiser - Free Book Online Page A

chair next to hers and she saw him stiffen when he noticed Michael. “How come your husband’s so mad at you?” When she didn’t answer he leaned toward her and whispered, “Mrs. Devereaux, I know it’s none of my business, but if you need help.…”
    â€œHelp?” Laurel giggled and then laughed. “From you?” Michael turned abruptly and stepped into Jimmy’s room. “Do you think I’d go for help to someone who sneaks around other people’s houses?”
    â€œSneaks …?”
    â€œYou were sneaking out of the house when I met you the other morning, not walking in to see about a job.”
    â€œOh, that.” He sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I did come about the job, but, you’re right, I was leaving when you saw me.” Evan’s shy smile moved the drooping corners of his mustache out. “I climbed that wall first thing in the morning so’s I’d be the earliest to apply, and when I got to the door, nobody answered it, but it moved a little and I saw it wasn’t locked … I peeked in … everything was so grand … I’d just never seen anything like this house before except in movies … please, don’t tell anybody. I just looked in one room, I swear it—the one with all the couches and chairs and velvet drapes—and I just stood in the door.”
    â€œBut why were you leaving?” He looked so sheepish, she half believed him.
    â€œI realized the place was too much … you know what I mean? It was too grand for Evan Boucher, and I thought of what would happen if I got caught like that and I just chickened, I guess. And then you did catch me … when I saw you … please don’t be offended, Mrs. Devereaux, but I’ve never seen anything like you before either.”
    Now they were both blushing.
    â€œAnd then Miss Bently came along and … what else could I do? But Professor Devereaux’s a nice old guy; I’m glad I stayed now.” Although he’d let it grow to his shirt collar, his brown hair curled and waved around his face and gave him a boyish look. “But you haven’t answered my question. Can I help you somehow?”
    Laurel found herself smiling at him for the first time. His story sounded silly enough to be true and not nearly as silly as her own. “Not unless you’re a doctor, Evan Boucher.”
    â€œAre you sick?”
    â€œI must be. My total memory of my life starts exactly six days ago.” Laurel expected to shock him but he just nodded casually.
    â€œOh, amnesia. I wondered.”
    â€œDon’t pretend that you believe it,” she said bitterly. “Nobody would. I don’t expect you to.”
    â€œOh, I believe it.”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œSure. It happens sometimes. I should know.”
    She leaned toward him. “Have you had amnesia?”
    â€œNo, but I worked in an institution a year or so ago and they had a whole wing of just people … Who couldn’t remember.”
    â€œAn institution.…”
    â€œYeah. I was an orderly type. But I didn’t stay long. I couldn’t take it … you have to be.…”
    â€œWhat did they do to them … the people who couldn’t remember?”
    â€œOh, hey. I didn’t mean to scare you. They didn’t mistreat them … just tried to help them remember … kept them there until they did … I better get back to my job … I seem to be making you feel worse … I always say the wrong things.” He stood and almost tripped over his own tennis shoes in embarrassment. “My feet are as clumsy as my mouth.”
    â€œEvan, how long did those people have to stay there?”
    â€œSome just a little while—few months—and others never did get out … sometimes depends on whether your family wants you back. Good place to get rid of people you don’t want hanging around.” He