Read Online The Hungry House by Elizabeth Amelia Barrington - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Amelia Barrington
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going to start crying again, if we keep hugging. " I took the perfect roses. "These are beautiful. I'll find something to put these in and place them in Mom's room. They are for Mom, right?"
"Yes, they're for your m om. I seemed to recall you like Chinese food, so I bought a Chinese dinner for you to have later. I can't stay long. I have a class soon." I went to put the roses in a vase and the food in the refrigerator and then returned to sit next to Paul on the sofa. He put his arm around me, and I placed my head on his shoulder. We sat in a comfortable and dreamy silence for some time.
Finally, I sat up and looked into Paul's eyes. "I'm so glad you're here. I feel a little better about everything. I'd better go check on my Mom. She's napping out on the patio." I found her unsuccessfully trying to get up from the patio lounge chair.
"My chest is bothering me . I need to take something for pain and get into bed for a while."
"Just a minute . I'll grab Paul to help us. Okay?" Mom nodded.
I went in to Paul sitting on the sofa. "Can you help me get my mother to bed?"
"Sure."
I took one of Mom's arms under the shoulder, thinking that Paul would take the other. He stood for an instant thoughtfully looking at Liz's tiny frame and then lightly moved her away from me, picked her up in his arms as if she were a bag of feathers, and followed me to the bedroom. There, he waited while I pulled back the covers, and he carefully laid her down on the bed.
###
Someone was tracking how long Paul stayed in the cottage.
CHAPTER TEN
Parting a drape, Frank surreptitiously watched as Paul hugged Vicky, tenderly kissed her forehead, and left the cottage. He had been overjoyed with relief that the gorgeous girl seemed to feel she was far too busy for dating. Well, now here it is--what I've dreaded all along: a young, good-looking man. Frank quickly walked out the front door and into the yard and pretended to be examining the front hedge while Paul got into his car. As the car drove away, Frank hurried to the street so he could write down Paul's license plate number.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I went out with Paul a second and a third time, each more thrilling than the last. On our second date, we went out for Chinese food, and the third time was dinner and the theatre. Long Day's Journey into Night was on tour in Portland from Broadway. After the serious subject matter of the play, we went out for coffee and dessert and spoke of light-hearted things. For our fourth date, Paul invited me to dinner at his apartment.
I finally found a parking space on the street. As I walked to the building I texted Paul: I'm a block from your building.
He texted right back : Okay. Buzz P. Olson, and I'll let you in. I'm in 203 on the second floor. There's no elevator.
When I arrived at Paul's building, he buzzed me in after a cheery "Hey you. Come on up."
His apartment wa s in a 1930's building in Southeast Portland. Four stories high with white stucco on the outside, it had been meticulously maintained. I walked up the carpeted stairway and found his apartment. When Paul opened the door, he looked very happy to see me and kissed me on the cheek.
"Welcome to my humble little abode . I've got hors d'oeuvres on the table. My lasagna is almost ready to come out of the oven."
On the table sat a gorgeous platter of salami, cheese, olives, mushrooms, red peppers, and dates.
Pa ul poured a small amount of sparkling water into a wineglass and handed it to me. I took a sip and set the glass down.
"I ju st have to try one of these."
I wrapped a small slice of light cheese around a date and took a bite.
"This is heavenly. It's antipasto right?" I asked.
"Yeah. I kind of fudged on the dates. It's supposed to be figs, but they're not in season right now." Paul said.
"I love dates. They're one of my secret vices."
Pa ul brought the platter and our water and placed them on the coffee table in front of his sofa. As we
"Yes, they're for your m om. I seemed to recall you like Chinese food, so I bought a Chinese dinner for you to have later. I can't stay long. I have a class soon." I went to put the roses in a vase and the food in the refrigerator and then returned to sit next to Paul on the sofa. He put his arm around me, and I placed my head on his shoulder. We sat in a comfortable and dreamy silence for some time.
Finally, I sat up and looked into Paul's eyes. "I'm so glad you're here. I feel a little better about everything. I'd better go check on my Mom. She's napping out on the patio." I found her unsuccessfully trying to get up from the patio lounge chair.
"My chest is bothering me . I need to take something for pain and get into bed for a while."
"Just a minute . I'll grab Paul to help us. Okay?" Mom nodded.
I went in to Paul sitting on the sofa. "Can you help me get my mother to bed?"
"Sure."
I took one of Mom's arms under the shoulder, thinking that Paul would take the other. He stood for an instant thoughtfully looking at Liz's tiny frame and then lightly moved her away from me, picked her up in his arms as if she were a bag of feathers, and followed me to the bedroom. There, he waited while I pulled back the covers, and he carefully laid her down on the bed.
###
Someone was tracking how long Paul stayed in the cottage.
CHAPTER TEN
Parting a drape, Frank surreptitiously watched as Paul hugged Vicky, tenderly kissed her forehead, and left the cottage. He had been overjoyed with relief that the gorgeous girl seemed to feel she was far too busy for dating. Well, now here it is--what I've dreaded all along: a young, good-looking man. Frank quickly walked out the front door and into the yard and pretended to be examining the front hedge while Paul got into his car. As the car drove away, Frank hurried to the street so he could write down Paul's license plate number.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I went out with Paul a second and a third time, each more thrilling than the last. On our second date, we went out for Chinese food, and the third time was dinner and the theatre. Long Day's Journey into Night was on tour in Portland from Broadway. After the serious subject matter of the play, we went out for coffee and dessert and spoke of light-hearted things. For our fourth date, Paul invited me to dinner at his apartment.
I finally found a parking space on the street. As I walked to the building I texted Paul: I'm a block from your building.
He texted right back : Okay. Buzz P. Olson, and I'll let you in. I'm in 203 on the second floor. There's no elevator.
When I arrived at Paul's building, he buzzed me in after a cheery "Hey you. Come on up."
His apartment wa s in a 1930's building in Southeast Portland. Four stories high with white stucco on the outside, it had been meticulously maintained. I walked up the carpeted stairway and found his apartment. When Paul opened the door, he looked very happy to see me and kissed me on the cheek.
"Welcome to my humble little abode . I've got hors d'oeuvres on the table. My lasagna is almost ready to come out of the oven."
On the table sat a gorgeous platter of salami, cheese, olives, mushrooms, red peppers, and dates.
Pa ul poured a small amount of sparkling water into a wineglass and handed it to me. I took a sip and set the glass down.
"I ju st have to try one of these."
I wrapped a small slice of light cheese around a date and took a bite.
"This is heavenly. It's antipasto right?" I asked.
"Yeah. I kind of fudged on the dates. It's supposed to be figs, but they're not in season right now." Paul said.
"I love dates. They're one of my secret vices."
Pa ul brought the platter and our water and placed them on the coffee table in front of his sofa. As we
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