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"Who the hell you're right! It's no concern of mine!"
"You said you wanted to see me in a social way, as friends. You're not being
very friendly," she retorted.
He shot his cuff angrily and glared at his watch. "I have to get downstairs.
Roberto will be there."
"Oh, Talbot..." She shook her head in restless frustration.
"Thanks for asking me tonight. And I... Eileen, I like being with you..." He
stopped and just looked at her in that miserably intense way he had, as if he
was bitterly regretful about her for some reason.
She stood up, feeling dejected. The whole evening had been wasted. No, it
wasn't the evening that was wasted, it was her and Talbot's relationship that
was hopeless. Nothing could ever come of it. She'd never know if he slept
naked or if he had hair on his chest.
He shook his head slowly, frowning at her, then took her into his arms in a
troubled way. She almost cried. She almost just leaned against him and
bawled. But it would never do. She did lean against him, but she waited to
see what he would do. He tilted her face up and kissed her.
It was unfair. How could he kiss her that way when she knew she'd never see
him again? What a mean and hateful thing to do, to kiss her so magnificently
when there was no hope he'd ever follow it up and make magnificent love to
her. She'd never know what it would be like to make love with him. She
swallowed a sob and widened her eyes and didn't blink, and she controlled
her tears.
She felt stiff, and she moved woodenly as she went to the door with him. He
turned and said, "Eileen in the same way he'd already said it several times,
then he kissed her again with the same dastardly tenderness, as if trying to
make her cry. But Farand bounced over to take advantage of the opening
door, and Eileen had to lean down to scoop up the cat and thereby hid her
betraying expression.
As if reluctant to leave, Talbot hesitated in the doorway, but Eileen was
silent. Finally they exchanged goodbyes, knowing they were probably the
last words they'd ever say to each other, and he left.
She stood there, holding the happily purring cat, her tears spilling over. The
cat watched her with wide eyes and enormous pupils, then patted the
droplets falling down her cheeks. The action was playful, but the gesture
was too tender for Eileen, and she hiccuped and gulped and her throat jerked
and she put the cat down and flung herself full-length on the bed and gave
herself up to the onslaught of tears.
Finally the smell of burning peach pie aroused her from her sorrow, and she
turned over, still sniffling, her throat still jerking, and dragged herself off the
bed. She threw the pie into the garbage and opened some of the skylights to
allow the smell to escape, took a long shower, swallowed two aspirin, and
went to bed. Farand jumped up and cuddled close to her, purring. Usually he
slept on the sofa, but tonight the cat crowded close to purr and lick, jiggling
the bed minutely, distracting Eileen. And she realized she wasn't alone in the
world. Did Farand, that small graceful furry creature, sense that she needed
someone close? Impossible. Or was it? No. After all, Farand was just a cat.
Almost a week went by. Now when the phone rang, Eileen looked at it dully,
having given up hope. For days she'd leaped, reaching it by the end of the
first ring and gasping, "Hello?" but it had always been someone else, never
Talbot. Now she didn't pick it up until the third ring, and she said a listless,
"Hello?"
"Are you is someone there?" Talbot asked tersely.
"No." And the wonder of hearing from him made that small word sing.
"I'm not interrupting anything?"
"No, no. I was just entertaining "
He made a harsh sound.
" Farand." What was the matter with that man?
"The cat?" he exploded.
"There isn't anyone else around named Farand," she pointed out.
"I'll just be a minute, if you're in a hurry."
"To entertain a cat?" she asked incredulously.
"Are you all right?"
"You forgot to eat the pie."
"That's right!" he exclaimed.
"I had it in the countertop oven and it burned."
"Oh, that's too bad." He sounded genuinely regretful. Their meaningful
dialogue had run out and they sat there holding silent phones to their ears.
Finally he said, "I want to see you."
"Yes," she agreed immediately, before he could qualify the statement. It
didn't occur to her to be coy or ask why he wanted to see her. She simply
wanted so badly to see him. But why did he have to sound so unhappy about
it? Was it such a chore to see her? Perhaps he was having trouble with his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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