Read Online The Family Man by Elinor Lipman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elinor Lipman
Ads: Link
rubs the sleeve of Williebelle's dress, then sniffs it. "Did she wear Chanel Number Five?"
"Nothing but."
"Sensory memory! Very good acting tool. Maybe it's why you haven't given her stuff away: You wanted to be able to walk down the hall and open that closet and feel her presence."
"Possibly. Or maybe I didn't know who'd take it off my hands."
Thalia says, "At your service. Trash bags will work, and when I come back, I'll bring a duffel."
Henry, from the open refrigerator, a butter dish in one hand and an egg carton in the other, says, "Or you could just move in."
The phone rings. Closer and unencumbered, Thalia picks up the handset and intones in Brooklynese, "Archer residence. Thalia Archer Krouch Archer speaking."
Why didn't he anticipate Denise's post-breakfast check-in? He closes the refrigerator with a backward kick of his foot and waits for Thalia's smile to collapse.
"May I ask who's calling...?" Her eyebrows lift. "He's right here." She hands him the handset and relieves him of the egg carton, announcing, "A gentleman for you."
Henry hears an indifferent male voice announce, "I'm Denise's friend, Jeffrey ... Denise Krouch's? She left me your name and number."
"It's not a great time to talk," Henry says, as Thalia signals, Yes, it is.
"Maybe there's been a misunderstanding," says Jeffrey.
Henry says, "Not at all. Let me call you back. Is this your home number on my caller ID?"
"Office. Denise gave you a heads-up, I assume?"
Henry repeats, "I'll call you back." He hangs up and asks Thalia if he can make her an omelet like last night's. Juice? Half a grapefruit? He's inherited Williebelle's grapefruit spoons.
"One sec. Did I hear my mother's name crackling over the wires?"
"You did."
"She's setting you up?"
"I knew she gave my name to two of her friends—a Jeffrey and another one whose name I forget."
"How did he sound?"
"Nice enough."
"Nice enough for what?"
Henry smiles. "Nice enough to ask Denise what he looks like." Thalia sighs. "You boys: so concerned with externals."
"As opposed to you girls?"
"Henry! Have you forgotten that I'm practically marrying Herman Munster?" She finally plucks the hat off her head and tosses it, Frisbee-style, onto the farthest kitchen counter. "Speaking of my romantic partnership, I think we have to meet with Leif's people and sign the papers. Unless of course I don't sign the papers..."
"What would change your mind?" Henry asks. "Because if it's a matter of money or a more comfortable living situation, you know I'd want to help."
"It's not. But thank you. I only meant that Leif might not have found me to his liking."
"Not possible. Unless he's daft; unless he wakes up this morning and realizes that the whole scheme is undignified and demeaning."
"For him, you mean?"
"I know your position: It's an acting challenge. All publicity is good publicity."
"Do any of us feel a little sorry for Larry Dumont, so desperate to be seen as appealing that he trades his dignity for an artificial girlfriend?" She holds her cup out. "Your coffee's delicious. Any cereal? That's what I usually have."
Henry opens a cupboard and reads, "Raisin Bran, Cheerios, Total ... nope. That one must be five years old."
"Cheerios, please."
He tucks the box under one arm and brings bowls and spoons to the island. Thalia asks, "What you said just before the phone rang? About me moving in? Were you serious? Or was it more like a stray thought?"
"Not a stray thought," he says. "Very much premeditated."
"Since...?"
He doesn't say the first thing that presents itself— Since I learned that you bathe in your kitchen —but substitutes a weightier, historical answer: "I bought this house because I was a father who thought his daughter would be visiting me every other weekend and on future school vacations, and I wanted her to have a second home and not some bachelor flat with a sleep sofa. You know the rest of the story: The Krouches got you."
She says, absent her usual light tone, "But you
"Nothing but."
"Sensory memory! Very good acting tool. Maybe it's why you haven't given her stuff away: You wanted to be able to walk down the hall and open that closet and feel her presence."
"Possibly. Or maybe I didn't know who'd take it off my hands."
Thalia says, "At your service. Trash bags will work, and when I come back, I'll bring a duffel."
Henry, from the open refrigerator, a butter dish in one hand and an egg carton in the other, says, "Or you could just move in."
The phone rings. Closer and unencumbered, Thalia picks up the handset and intones in Brooklynese, "Archer residence. Thalia Archer Krouch Archer speaking."
Why didn't he anticipate Denise's post-breakfast check-in? He closes the refrigerator with a backward kick of his foot and waits for Thalia's smile to collapse.
"May I ask who's calling...?" Her eyebrows lift. "He's right here." She hands him the handset and relieves him of the egg carton, announcing, "A gentleman for you."
Henry hears an indifferent male voice announce, "I'm Denise's friend, Jeffrey ... Denise Krouch's? She left me your name and number."
"It's not a great time to talk," Henry says, as Thalia signals, Yes, it is.
"Maybe there's been a misunderstanding," says Jeffrey.
Henry says, "Not at all. Let me call you back. Is this your home number on my caller ID?"
"Office. Denise gave you a heads-up, I assume?"
Henry repeats, "I'll call you back." He hangs up and asks Thalia if he can make her an omelet like last night's. Juice? Half a grapefruit? He's inherited Williebelle's grapefruit spoons.
"One sec. Did I hear my mother's name crackling over the wires?"
"You did."
"She's setting you up?"
"I knew she gave my name to two of her friends—a Jeffrey and another one whose name I forget."
"How did he sound?"
"Nice enough."
"Nice enough for what?"
Henry smiles. "Nice enough to ask Denise what he looks like." Thalia sighs. "You boys: so concerned with externals."
"As opposed to you girls?"
"Henry! Have you forgotten that I'm practically marrying Herman Munster?" She finally plucks the hat off her head and tosses it, Frisbee-style, onto the farthest kitchen counter. "Speaking of my romantic partnership, I think we have to meet with Leif's people and sign the papers. Unless of course I don't sign the papers..."
"What would change your mind?" Henry asks. "Because if it's a matter of money or a more comfortable living situation, you know I'd want to help."
"It's not. But thank you. I only meant that Leif might not have found me to his liking."
"Not possible. Unless he's daft; unless he wakes up this morning and realizes that the whole scheme is undignified and demeaning."
"For him, you mean?"
"I know your position: It's an acting challenge. All publicity is good publicity."
"Do any of us feel a little sorry for Larry Dumont, so desperate to be seen as appealing that he trades his dignity for an artificial girlfriend?" She holds her cup out. "Your coffee's delicious. Any cereal? That's what I usually have."
Henry opens a cupboard and reads, "Raisin Bran, Cheerios, Total ... nope. That one must be five years old."
"Cheerios, please."
He tucks the box under one arm and brings bowls and spoons to the island. Thalia asks, "What you said just before the phone rang? About me moving in? Were you serious? Or was it more like a stray thought?"
"Not a stray thought," he says. "Very much premeditated."
"Since...?"
He doesn't say the first thing that presents itself— Since I learned that you bathe in your kitchen —but substitutes a weightier, historical answer: "I bought this house because I was a father who thought his daughter would be visiting me every other weekend and on future school vacations, and I wanted her to have a second home and not some bachelor flat with a sleep sofa. You know the rest of the story: The Krouches got you."
She says, absent her usual light tone, "But you
Similar Books
