Read Online The Sleeping Night by Barbara Samuel - Free Book Online Page B

we are.”
    Angel raised her cup. “To life.”
    Gudren laughed. “Yes. L’chaim!”
    After that, the conversation turned to lighter subjects, to what was planned for vegetable and flower gardens, to the weather; to movies and books. As the afternoon deepened, they played parlor games and Angel joined them for a quiet supper of beef noodle soup and pie.
    For Angel, the evening was restorative. She’d spent a lot of time with Mrs. Pierson through the war, visiting for an afternoon or evening, sharing books and ideas and conversations. Especially now, she was glad to have the refuge.
    It wasn’t until nearly sunset that Angel took her leave, walking through the woods in a silvered dusk populated with the whistles and chirps of birds who were capturing the last of the day’s food. She loved these woods, the smell of needles and river, the peacefulness and, tonight, the weight of her grief and loneliness was easier to carry.
    At home, she changed into a house dress, and walked barefooted to the front porch to call Ebenezer, imitating his strident squawk as well as she could. He hopped up to the porch railing and answered her with his series of gurglings and meowings. Angel held out her finger. “How are you, baby? Full day?”
    A movement in the edge of the woods across the road caught her eye and she peered into the deepening evening. Edwin Walker stepped into the road. “Evenin’, Angel.”
    “Evenin’,” Angel answered warily. “What brings you out so far tonight?”
    “You do.”
    She put Ebenezer down on the chair. He leapt with a flash of blue wings to the top of it and fixed tiny black eyes on Edwin’s approach. Angel squared her shoulders. “Is that right?”
    Edwin climbed the steps and leaned lazily on the railing. He said nothing for a minute, fixing his neon blue eyes on the road before he swiveled them to her face. He smiled softly, showing no teeth. “You looked so pretty in church today that I’ve been thinking about you all afternoon.”
    “Thank you.”
    He cleared his throat and extracted a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Mind if I smoke?”
    “Not if you’ll offer me one.”
    He relaxed and extended the package. When Angel pulled one out, he lit it. “You never did make it easy for a man,” he said after a moment.
    She exhaled gladly, watching the smoke weave through a bar of light coming from the window. “Easy how?”
    “You know what I mean. Even in school, nobody could sweet talk you, not even me.”
    “And I imagine that was a rarity, Edwin.”
    “Oh, don’t make it sound like I’m conceited, now. I can’t help it if women like me.”
    Angel looked at him.
    “Everybody but you, that is,” he said.
    “No use throwing myself in there in the competition.”
    “Wouldn’t’ve been no competition for you.” Smoke circled his head, pale against the darkness of his Black Irish face. It was said the Walkers had Indian blood, too, and she could believe it of Edwin with his hawkish nose and fine lips. Too handsome for his own good. The eyes seemed almost to carry their own light, an eerie glowing where there should be nothing but reflection.
    “And, you know, that’s the trouble.” She inclined her head. “It’s people’s nature to want what they can’t have, Edwin. I’m no more your kind of woman than you are my kind of man.”
    “What do you know about men, Angel Corey?” He smiled, glancing over her figure lazily. “Solomon?” He raised his eyebrows. “You were married, what? A week, maybe two?”
    “We went through this in high school,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not interested, Edwin. I like you fine, but I’m not going to be your girlfriend. I don’t want to be anyone’s wife.”
    “School,” he said, lifting his cigarette, eyes fixed on her through the smoke. “A woman needs things a girl never thought about, and I reckon there’s a lot you still haven’t learned.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “And you figure you’re the one to teach me?”