Read Online The Man Who Loved His Wife by Vera Caspary - Free Book Online Page B

something to confess,” she said slowly.
    He was shaken by a sudden chill.
    â€œI broke the lunch dishes, all we used today, the Haviland. I”—she raised her head and offered the sight of her moist and swollen eyes as a sacrifice of pride—“I did it on purpose. In a hideous tantrum.”
    In relief he offered broken laughter. She floated toward him, touched her gentle palm to his cheek. Caught by her fragrance, he could not control the impulse to pull her hand over his mouth and kiss it tenderly.

4
    THE NEXT NIGHT, AFTER HE HAD FINISHED HIS HOSPITAL rounds, Ralph stopped to pick up his hat. This was the excuse he gave the Strodes. The reason was quite different. Those few minutes of unleashed love had not eased the pressure of his desire for Elaine. For eight endless weeks,knowing her situation and her husband’s temper, he had kept away. When he had stopped by on Thursday afternoon he had not consciously intended to start an affair. Both he and she had been swept off their feet. At the end Elaine had said, “We must never see each other again. Never.” Ralph had neither promised nor protested. But a man is justified in reclaiming property left behind. His pale, freckled skin was sensitive to sunlight, the hat his newest.
    The night was clear and unbearably hot. No fog rolled in from the ocean, no breeze blew. Sullen air lay heavy upon the earth and after dark, the heat rose and smothered the hills. The sultry air suggested rain, hopelessly, for it would be many weeks before a storm blew in. From hundreds, perhaps thousands, of barbecues drifted the smell of burning fat and from all the swimming pools the shrieks and splashes of night bathers.
    There was a smoky smell in the Strode yard, too, and dark silhouettes against the blue brightness of the lighted swimming pool. Instead of ringing the doorbell Ralph walked through the garden. “Good evening.”
    They saw the visitor with amazement. His footsteps had not been heard. Fletcher grunted a greeting. Cindy looked up with bright interest. Don wrung water out of his trunks.
    â€œI hope I’m not disturbing you. I left my hat here yesterday.”
    â€œYou must be Dr. Julian. I brought your hat to your office this afternoon. Your nurse was just closing the office.”
    â€œThanks. That was very kind of you.”
    â€œElaine asked me to. I’m Don Hustings.”
    They shook hands. Don introduced his wife, who said she was delighted to meet the famous Dr. Julian, she had heard so much about him.
    Elaine lay upon her back in the pool, dreaming as she floated. Her eyes were closed, her ears covered by a tight cap. She discovered Ralph as she started up the ladder. “Why, hello!” She could not let herself appear discountenanced and hurried to offer her wet hand as though he were no more than an old family friend who had dropped in for a visit. Fletcher watched. His scowl was for the two packs of cards laid out in rows on themetal table under the light. He played solitaire compulsively, and whenever a game demanded choice, pondered it as grimly as if his entire wealth were at stake. A man who breathed through a hole in his neck could not swim nor dive into the pool.
    He had always excelled at water sports, won his lifesaver’s credentials and many medals at the YMCA when he was a kid; cherished a silver cup earned in a diving competition; had later, in his country club days, been a member of a businessmen’s water polo team. Now, on hot days when there was no one except his wife to witness his shame, he could walk into the shallow end and cool himself to the chest. Elaine had not wanted a pool, but in that area pools were as much a part of a valuable house as the bathtubs. She had suggested that they fill it in and make a badminton court. Fletcher had insisted that they keep the pool for her pleasure. “I like to see you in a bathing suit, lovable.” As though he couldn’t see her without