Read Online Most Likely to Die (A Kate Jasper Mystery) by Jaqueline Girdner - Free Book Online
Authors: Jaqueline Girdner
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be fair.
At least Charlie Hirsch stood at the front door instead of stumbling in like Becky had.
“Okay time to visit?” he asked, without looking either of us in the face. He leaned his weight on one foot and then the other.
“Sure,” Wayne answered, stepping back from the door.
Charlie remained standing where he was, squirming in place.
“Felt like I needed to talk,” he added softly.
“Fine,” I said, my voice taking on the volume his lacked. I motioned him forward with my hand. “Come on in.”
“If it’s okay,” he murmured.
It was close to ten minutes before we actually convinced Charlie that it was okay to shamble on in and take a seat on the wood and denim couch, Wayne and I on either side of him. Then he sat and stared out across the room without speaking, looking down at his hands at times, turning them over as if to inspect them for dirt. They actually were a little dirty. And calloused. Gardening, I remembered. He did gardening. He certainly didn’t speak for a living.
I looked at him, trying to see him through Pam Ortega’s more positive eyes. Charlie Hirsch was good-looking in his own way. Tall and lean-faced, with large, dreamy eyes and dark, wavy hair. But where were his social skills? Then I remembered how shy Wayne had been when I’d first met him. Maybe there were hidden depths of wisdom and kindness and wit within Charlie too. Or maybe not.
“Here to talk about Sid?” Wayne finally hazarded.
“Sid?” Charlie shot back, his head jerking up, focus in his dreamy eyes abruptly. “What about Sid?”
“Well, what are you here to talk about?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
“Pam,” he whispered and looked down at his hands again.
“Pam?” I asked.
Charlie took a quick little breath, fastened his eyes on his lap, and then started talking as fast as his mouth would carry him.
“See, Pam and I were both accepted at U.C. Berkeley,” he said, wringing his calloused hands together. “She had a scholarship. And we were really in love. We knew we were too young to marry. But then she got pregnant a few months before graduation.” He looked out across the room for a moment, shaking his head. “My fault, all my fault.”
“And then?” I prompted after a few moments passed in silence.
He looked at me for a moment, then at Wayne and then at the ceiling. I resisted the urge to poke him in the ribs to get him going again.
“We had to get married,” he whispered finally. “And nobody was happy. My parents were pissed. Her parents were pissed. I got a job as a bank teller. Neither of us went to U.C. And then, after all that, she miscarried.”
I waited for him to blame himself again, but he just kept looking up at the ceiling. And talking.
“We split up after that. My parents sent me to school in the East. I got a useless degree in English. But Pam never got her scholarship back. And she was the smart one. And then…”
He brought his eyes down from the ceiling and stared across the room, his eyes as out of focus as a puppy’s on Quaaludes.
This time Wayne did the honors. “And then?” he prompted.
“And then I saw her at the reunion,” Charlie said, his voice going even faster. “Pamela Ortega. I’ve gone out with other women, but never married. Never even gotten serious. There was never anyone like Pam. And…and, damn it, there still isn’t. See, I think I’m in love with her. Really, really in love with her.”
He turned to me and actually looked me in the eye. “Kate, am I completely meshuga ?”
“No,” I said slowly, remembering the way Pam had leaned toward him, watching him intently. Had there been romantic interest in her eyes too? “There’s always a chance—”
“I wanted to say something to her today,” he interrupted. “But Sid messed everything up.”
Meshuga suddenly took on new meaning. Was the man really a little crazy? Sid had messed things up far more for himself today than for Charlie. I peered a little closer.
At least Charlie Hirsch stood at the front door instead of stumbling in like Becky had.
“Okay time to visit?” he asked, without looking either of us in the face. He leaned his weight on one foot and then the other.
“Sure,” Wayne answered, stepping back from the door.
Charlie remained standing where he was, squirming in place.
“Felt like I needed to talk,” he added softly.
“Fine,” I said, my voice taking on the volume his lacked. I motioned him forward with my hand. “Come on in.”
“If it’s okay,” he murmured.
It was close to ten minutes before we actually convinced Charlie that it was okay to shamble on in and take a seat on the wood and denim couch, Wayne and I on either side of him. Then he sat and stared out across the room without speaking, looking down at his hands at times, turning them over as if to inspect them for dirt. They actually were a little dirty. And calloused. Gardening, I remembered. He did gardening. He certainly didn’t speak for a living.
I looked at him, trying to see him through Pam Ortega’s more positive eyes. Charlie Hirsch was good-looking in his own way. Tall and lean-faced, with large, dreamy eyes and dark, wavy hair. But where were his social skills? Then I remembered how shy Wayne had been when I’d first met him. Maybe there were hidden depths of wisdom and kindness and wit within Charlie too. Or maybe not.
“Here to talk about Sid?” Wayne finally hazarded.
“Sid?” Charlie shot back, his head jerking up, focus in his dreamy eyes abruptly. “What about Sid?”
“Well, what are you here to talk about?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
“Pam,” he whispered and looked down at his hands again.
“Pam?” I asked.
Charlie took a quick little breath, fastened his eyes on his lap, and then started talking as fast as his mouth would carry him.
“See, Pam and I were both accepted at U.C. Berkeley,” he said, wringing his calloused hands together. “She had a scholarship. And we were really in love. We knew we were too young to marry. But then she got pregnant a few months before graduation.” He looked out across the room for a moment, shaking his head. “My fault, all my fault.”
“And then?” I prompted after a few moments passed in silence.
He looked at me for a moment, then at Wayne and then at the ceiling. I resisted the urge to poke him in the ribs to get him going again.
“We had to get married,” he whispered finally. “And nobody was happy. My parents were pissed. Her parents were pissed. I got a job as a bank teller. Neither of us went to U.C. And then, after all that, she miscarried.”
I waited for him to blame himself again, but he just kept looking up at the ceiling. And talking.
“We split up after that. My parents sent me to school in the East. I got a useless degree in English. But Pam never got her scholarship back. And she was the smart one. And then…”
He brought his eyes down from the ceiling and stared across the room, his eyes as out of focus as a puppy’s on Quaaludes.
This time Wayne did the honors. “And then?” he prompted.
“And then I saw her at the reunion,” Charlie said, his voice going even faster. “Pamela Ortega. I’ve gone out with other women, but never married. Never even gotten serious. There was never anyone like Pam. And…and, damn it, there still isn’t. See, I think I’m in love with her. Really, really in love with her.”
He turned to me and actually looked me in the eye. “Kate, am I completely meshuga ?”
“No,” I said slowly, remembering the way Pam had leaned toward him, watching him intently. Had there been romantic interest in her eyes too? “There’s always a chance—”
“I wanted to say something to her today,” he interrupted. “But Sid messed everything up.”
Meshuga suddenly took on new meaning. Was the man really a little crazy? Sid had messed things up far more for himself today than for Charlie. I peered a little closer.
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