Read Online The Other Side of Love by Jacqueline Briskin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jacqueline Briskin
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past in automobiles, were eyeing her trim white uniform.
“There’s a pretty pond that way,”
she said, raising her left hand.
“Sounds good to me.”
The meandering little lake had retained its enchantment. A graceful willow wept into the green lily pads, a pair of gliding swans carved V-shaped ripples beneath the hump-backed stone bridge.
Wyatt slowed.
“Nice,”
he said, then looked at her.
“I’ve been pretty rough on you. And the thing is, I don’t usually go around like Jack the Ripper.”
“The Games, competition, everybody watching us. We’ve all been under tremendous stress”
“Ye Gods,”
he said with a mock sigh.
“Can’t I apologize without a battle?”
“I’m not arguing.”
“What, then? You’ve pulled your head back, your eyes are narrowed. You’re one goddam irritating, sensational-looking female.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Mixed.”
The smile faded, and he stared at the swans with a curiously hurt expression.
“What a lauA. Me! Making time with a big pal of Hitler’s.”
w
“The Nazis make me cringe.”
“Hey. Aren’t you the girl who leaps to defend that group of thugs like they walk on water?”
“If I attacked Roosevelt, how would you react?”
“I’m surprised. Why aren’t you putting that nasty twerp on a far higher level than the President?”
Sudden tears filled her eyes. It was like the basketball match, but this time there was no escape. She fished in her bag for a handkerchief.
“Hey, I was trying to say I’m sorry.”
He touched her arm gently.
“You shouldn’t take me so seriously. I’m famed far and wide for my short fuse.”
“It’s an insect in my eye …”
“Shh,”
he whispered, and put both arms around her, holding her loosely. She had the same feeling that had come to her during the race: that she had stepped out of normal time and into a bubble
49
of perfection. Tears still oozing between her closed eyelids, she let her cheek rest on his jacket, hearing and feeling the strong beat of his heart.
“Kathe,”
he whispered hoarsely, pronouncing her name perfectly.
“Rathe … what’s happening to me?”
A pair of stout matrons were curving into sight on the path. Wyatt moved away. Kathe loathed the fat Hausfrauen.
“Let’s go over there,”
he said, and they crossed the little bridge. Halting by the marble statue of a nymph, he said in a low voice:
“You feel the old chemistry, too, don’t you?”
“It’s crazy,”
Kathe murmured.
“You’re my cousin.”
“No.”
“What?”
“We’re not related at all,”
he said.
50
Chapter Eight
c k
Her mind swirling with Araminta’s disclosure of Humphrey and Rossie’s unlikely pre-marital fall, she looked at him and said nothing.
“This isn’t coming out of the blue, is it?”
he said. In the shadowy twilight, his face seemed heavier, older.
“I just found out that your parents didn’t get married until right before you were born.”
She moved the toe of her pump carefully along the marks left by a recent raking.
“It didn’Meem possible. Aunt Rossie is … well, too sensible. And Uncle Hum*rey’s not like that, either.”
“Exactly. But until last month I took Dad for granted. You know how it goes: he was my father, so of course he loved me. Frankly, sometimes it got embarrassing. He might as well have been wearing a badge: Wyatt Kingsmith’s my son and I’m proud of him! So when”
“Sondermeldungl”
One of the loudspeakers that reported on the Olympic events had been planted on the bridge. From the quadruple megaphones poured an announcement of another victory for the Reich.
“Christ, there goes the perfect background noise for this particular conversation.”
Wyatt began to stride rapidly along the curving path. Kathe hurried to keep up. The voice faded into the rustle of leaves, and he slowed.
“There’s a pretty pond that way,”
she said, raising her left hand.
“Sounds good to me.”
The meandering little lake had retained its enchantment. A graceful willow wept into the green lily pads, a pair of gliding swans carved V-shaped ripples beneath the hump-backed stone bridge.
Wyatt slowed.
“Nice,”
he said, then looked at her.
“I’ve been pretty rough on you. And the thing is, I don’t usually go around like Jack the Ripper.”
“The Games, competition, everybody watching us. We’ve all been under tremendous stress”
“Ye Gods,”
he said with a mock sigh.
“Can’t I apologize without a battle?”
“I’m not arguing.”
“What, then? You’ve pulled your head back, your eyes are narrowed. You’re one goddam irritating, sensational-looking female.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Mixed.”
The smile faded, and he stared at the swans with a curiously hurt expression.
“What a lauA. Me! Making time with a big pal of Hitler’s.”
w
“The Nazis make me cringe.”
“Hey. Aren’t you the girl who leaps to defend that group of thugs like they walk on water?”
“If I attacked Roosevelt, how would you react?”
“I’m surprised. Why aren’t you putting that nasty twerp on a far higher level than the President?”
Sudden tears filled her eyes. It was like the basketball match, but this time there was no escape. She fished in her bag for a handkerchief.
“Hey, I was trying to say I’m sorry.”
He touched her arm gently.
“You shouldn’t take me so seriously. I’m famed far and wide for my short fuse.”
“It’s an insect in my eye …”
“Shh,”
he whispered, and put both arms around her, holding her loosely. She had the same feeling that had come to her during the race: that she had stepped out of normal time and into a bubble
49
of perfection. Tears still oozing between her closed eyelids, she let her cheek rest on his jacket, hearing and feeling the strong beat of his heart.
“Kathe,”
he whispered hoarsely, pronouncing her name perfectly.
“Rathe … what’s happening to me?”
A pair of stout matrons were curving into sight on the path. Wyatt moved away. Kathe loathed the fat Hausfrauen.
“Let’s go over there,”
he said, and they crossed the little bridge. Halting by the marble statue of a nymph, he said in a low voice:
“You feel the old chemistry, too, don’t you?”
“It’s crazy,”
Kathe murmured.
“You’re my cousin.”
“No.”
“What?”
“We’re not related at all,”
he said.
50
Chapter Eight
c k
Her mind swirling with Araminta’s disclosure of Humphrey and Rossie’s unlikely pre-marital fall, she looked at him and said nothing.
“This isn’t coming out of the blue, is it?”
he said. In the shadowy twilight, his face seemed heavier, older.
“I just found out that your parents didn’t get married until right before you were born.”
She moved the toe of her pump carefully along the marks left by a recent raking.
“It didn’Meem possible. Aunt Rossie is … well, too sensible. And Uncle Hum*rey’s not like that, either.”
“Exactly. But until last month I took Dad for granted. You know how it goes: he was my father, so of course he loved me. Frankly, sometimes it got embarrassing. He might as well have been wearing a badge: Wyatt Kingsmith’s my son and I’m proud of him! So when”
“Sondermeldungl”
One of the loudspeakers that reported on the Olympic events had been planted on the bridge. From the quadruple megaphones poured an announcement of another victory for the Reich.
“Christ, there goes the perfect background noise for this particular conversation.”
Wyatt began to stride rapidly along the curving path. Kathe hurried to keep up. The voice faded into the rustle of leaves, and he slowed.
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