Read Online The Woman Who Fell From Grace by David Handler - Free Book Online Page B

legs were unusually short. His hands were big and hairy. They were also bandaged.
    “What happened to your hands?” I asked.
    “Tripped in the courtyard last night after I’d put the car away,” he replied, twitching at me. “Those bricks get damned slippery. Fell flat and scraped them both raw. Stupid, really.”
    Edward leaned in toward him and softly inquired if perhaps Mavis would like a sherry before lunch. Richard glanced at her. She raised her chin a quarter of an inch.
    Richard immediately flashed his large white teeth at me. “Sherry, Hoagy? To celebrate your undertaking?”
    I said that would be fine and watched him fill a set of cordial glasses from a cut-glass decanter, marveling at the fine, civilized heights to which the Glazes had elevated sibling loathing. It was a subtle business, really, but it was undeniable — Mavis and her brothers never actually spoke to each other, or even made eye contact. They communicated only through Richard. He was their go-between, their envoy. He kept the peace. Or perhaps “truce” was a better word for it. Whatever, they had it down so pat they must have been existing this way for years.
    Mercy breezed in the door from school as Richard was handing out the glasses. She sang out, “Hello, all,” and started up the stairs.
    “You’re just in time to help us celebrate, Mercy,” Mavis called after her. “Come.”
    She did, though Richard didn’t fill another glass for her. I got my own special hello and smile. I could almost feel Mavis’s eyes boring into the back of my head. We raised our glasses.
    “Hoagy and I,” began Mavis, “it is my great pleasure to announce, have arrived at a creative meeting of the minds. … ”
    “And here, ladies and gentlemen,” Mercy cracked brightly, “we go for the ninth time.”
    “Mercy, either hold your tongue or leave this room at once,” snapped Mavis.
    “Now, Mave … ,” said Richard consolingly.
    “Quiet, Richard!” she ordered. Mercy started out of the room. “Mercy, stay .” There was no need for the lady to have dogs around. She had her family.
    Mercy stayed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Richard stood there twitching. Everyone else seemed quite used to this.
    “Let us drink to Sweet Land of Liberty ,” continued Mavis. “And to Mother.”
    “To Mother,” toasted Frederick.
    “Mother,” toasted Edward.
    We drank. It wasn’t very good sherry. It tasted like children’s cough syrup. When mine was gone, I turned to Charlotte and said, “Do we throw our glasses into the fireplace now?”
    “Why, no,” she replied, a bit goggle-eyed. Whimsy obviously wasn’t her forte. Or maybe I was just losing my touch. She excused herself and scurried off to the kitchen.
    “Best of luck to you, Hoagy,” said Edward genially.
    “You’ll need it,” added Frederick under his breath. “And if there’s anything you need — information, advice, a horse whip — Just let us know.” He went over to refill his glass.
    Edward lingered. “I certainly do envy you, Hoagy,” he said wistfully.
    “You wouldn’t if you knew me better.”
    “I would. You do something creative. I always wanted to. As a young man, I even dreamt of following in Mother’s footsteps. But it was never meant to be. No talent — of any kind. I’ve come to accept it. One of the last stages of maturity, I suppose, is coming to grips with one’s own lack of uniqueness.”
    “Writing is the least amount of fun you can have with your clothes on. You’re really a lot better off practicing law.”
    He shook his head. “No, I’m not, Hoagy. Believe me.”
    The dining table was set for seven.
    Mavis, high priestess of American home entertaining, immediately took charge of the seating. “Richard, you’re at that end, I’m at the other. Let’s see, that leaves us with an odd man out.”
    “That would be me,” I said.
    “Charlotte, you will sit on Richard’s left.” Mavis gripped her assistant by the shoulders and gave her a firm