The Trouble With Eden - Lawrence Block [144]
“Why shouldn’t I answer it? I like your father very much. I don’t know if that’s the answer you—”
“What’s really weird is I keep saying Hugh and you keep saying your father.”
“Well, I—”
“Are you going to marry him?”
“Not before I’m asked.”
“He hasn’t asked you? I thought maybe he did. I think he will.”
“Well, I can’t really—”
“Suppose he does.”
The conversation had been faintly uncomfortable from the beginning and was getting more and more difficult for her. Why didn’t customers come in when you wanted them to? Not even customers—it would have been a pleasure just then to explain to some cretin that there was no public rest room in the Mall. At this point any interruption would be a deliverance.
“I’m sure he’ll ask you,” Karen was saying. “And I hope you’ll say yes.”
“Do you?”
“Oh, God, yes.”
“That surprises me.”
“It does? Maybe we’re not communicating at all. It’s my fault. I never should have gotten into all this.” She stood up suddenly. “I guess I’ll split.”
“Don’t go, Karen.”
But she had to; she was fighting back tears. “I just think you would be very good for each other,” she said. “That’s all. I think you could make each other happy. And what this is all about, what everything’s all about, is that I’m just trying to find a way to tell you that you don’t have to worry about me. Like I won’t be in the way or anything, that’s all, that’s the only thing I was trying to say.”
“Karen, sit down for a minute.”
“I’m going now.”
“Karen—.”
“I’m all right, Linda.”
“I know you are.”
“I mean I’m all right, I’m not going to cry or anything. You don’t have to worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“I didn’t mean to run a whole number on you like that. I got carried away.”
“It’s nothing.”
Those eyes, so much like Hugh’s, bored into hers. It was almost painful to meet the girl’s gaze.
“I’m not a child, Linda.”
“I know that.”
“I’m not a child. You make me act like one, but I’m not. I don’t know what it is. Look, I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool.”
“Thanks.”
TWENTY-THREE
Melanie was upstairs watching television when the doorbell rang. She came down the staircase slowly, trying to guess who it might be and whether she ought to answer the bell at all. Salesmen and assorted door-to-door pests were creatures of the morning and afternoon and it was close to eight thirty; the program she was watching had gone on at eight o’clock and was more than half over.
It wouldn’t be Sully. He always used his key. But it might be some other man. There had been several over the past few weeks, one of them a door-to-door pest, an insurance snoop who had learned nothing from her about the couple next door but a great deal about horizontal pleasures. As well as she could determine, he was the only man she’d had sex with since Warren and Bert who knew her address. The others were all strangers who would have trouble tracking her down. Nor did it seem likely that the insurance snoop would risk turning up unannounced. She had attempted to ward off such a return visit with a story about her husband’s two strongest attributes: his rabid jealousy and his prowess with handguns.
It might be Warren, though. Or it might be any man who had heard her name mentioned and wanted to try his luck.
The bell sounded again. She did not want to see anyone tonight, but refusing to open the door would only postpone whatever problem might be in the offing. She went to the door, drew a quick breath, and opened it.
“Mrs. Jaeger?”
Not a man at all. A girl. The face was familiar, she had seen it before, and now she tried to place it.
“I don’t know if you remember me, but—”
Of course! “Why, of course I do,” she said, smiling brilliantly. “You’re Hugh Markarian’s daughter.”
“That’s right.”
“Of course I remember you, Linda.”
The girl’s eyes sparkled. “Far-out,” she said, thing is, you were Linda. I’m Karen.”
“I—”
“The thing is, I goofed by calling you Linda. But it’s not really important. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” She swallowed. “Why don’t you come inside?”
“Thanks. This