“Yes, well, I’m not quite ready to start a relationship, and I told him so. However, I’d be a liar if I told you he wasn’t very good-looking and personable. But don’t tell him I said so,” I added quickly, and he laughed.
Just before we pulled into the driveway at the Winston House, I told Mr. Dolan about Naomi Addison hoping to get to him through me. He listened but didn’t say anything until we stopped and he turned off the engine.
“I don’t mean to influence you to be against her, but I don’t like being thought of as anyone’s little spy. She strikes me as someone who’s capable of saying something like that in the end. People who are disappointed can be cruel,” I said.
“Very, very true. Don’t worry about it. I know about Naomi. My aunt doesn’t let anything get past her. I’ve never given Naomi Addison any indication that I would be interested in a relationship with her. Don’t you give it a second thought.”
He followed me into the house so he could say hello to his aunt. She and Mrs. McGruder were just setting the dinner table. I saw that there was one place setting missing and felt sorry again for Jim Lamb.
“Hello, Auntie,” Ken said. They hugged. He hugged Mrs. McGruder, too.
“What a nice surprise. You’re welcome to have dinner with us,” Mrs. Winston said immediately.
“Oh, thank you, but I have a dinner meeting all set.”
“You have to relax a little once in a while, Kenneth Sullivan Dolan. Your mother was always worried about you burning out. Even as a young boy, he was ambitious and a determined worker,” she told me.
r /> “I will, Auntie Amelia. Promise. Well, our new girl seems fine. But keep your eye on her. I don’t want to lose her this soon,” he added, winking at me.
He visited for a while longer and then left. Before I went up to change for dinner, Mrs. Winston told me that Naomi Addison had checked out.
“I’d hate to think it was my fault. I didn’t mean to bring you any problems,” I said.
“Nonsense. I regretted taking her in almost the day she moved in. I knew what she had on her mind. If I even hinted that my nephew might stop by, she would plant herself in that living room like a piece of furniture.”
I told her I had spoken to Jim Lamb and that he was planning to return the next day. She already knew about it. Mrs. McGruder and she were thinking about how they would accommodate his recovery. They were obviously very fond of him.
Most of my young life, either Mrs. Fennel, Daddy, or one of my older sisters would warn me about people. From the way they spoke, we were immune to the seven deadly sins that at one time or another took over their lives. They had spoken about it as if we were more in danger of becoming their victims than they were in of becoming ours.
But so far in this, my first experience of living among them, I had found much to recommend them. The kindness and loving concern in Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder especially made me question the harsh sketches and depictions of people that my family had imposed on me. Perhaps, I thought, they lived with these thoughts to rationalize what they were destined to be and to do. It was always easier to kill a poisonous snake or spider than to kill a graceful bird whose only fault was being too trusting. Jim Lamb reminded me of a fragile, gentle bird.
I didn’t see him until I returned from work the following day. At my determined insistence, I refused all offers for a ride home and finally took the walk I had wanted to take from the first day. The late-spring sun held the eager darkness back a little longer every day now. Despite always being told that darkness was our friend, I walked at a pace that would get me to the Winston House before the shadows began their snaillike crawl toward one another.
All along the street, men and women were returning from work. At some houses, children who had been waiting at windows anticipating the arrival of their fathers or mothers came running out to greet them as soon as they were out of their cars. I couldn’t help but remember the times I had been there to greet my father after he had been gone for days. When I was very young, I couldn’t wait to hear him call for me the moment he came through the front door.
“Where’s my Lorelei? Where’s my little angel?” he would cry, and I would come around the corner, shyly at first, and then, bursting with happiness, rush into his powerful arms. I had thought he had the strength to toss me into a cloud. His laughter had resonated throughout the house. Ava would appear behind me, her eyes two pools of green envy.
“And you, my darling?” he would ask her. “How have you been? Didn’t you miss me just as much?”
More timidly, more reserved and ladylike, she would approach to hug him. More often than not, he would have some sort of gift for us, such as new necklaces or rings or bracelets. Even if he had been gone for only two days, he would want to hear about every moment that had passed and how we had filled it. I had always felt as if he were memorizing the sound of my voice, the music of my laughter, and the love for him in my eyes. His attention had been so strong and so intense that I had felt absorbed into him.
Right now, I paused to listen to some children laughing. I heard people greeting each other, asking how they were, how their day had been. No one watching me and seeing me seize on every syllable, every smile and hug, would understand how much it all meant to me. I was like a visitor from another planet, amused and delighted in the joy these inhabitants had in their world. I yearned to be a part of it. If Daddy were there and saw the smile on my face, he would know that there was no longer any reason to pursue me. I would never return.
Of course, if he was pursuing me or sending Ava after me, bringing me back might not be his purpose.
Out of nowhere, a cold chill slipped under the sunshine and down my back. I shivered and then walked faster toward the Winston House. When I drew closer, my attention was drawn to the windows of my room. I was sure that I saw a curtain parting and Thaddeus Bogosian looking down at me.
He was gone as quickly as he had appeared.
Please, I thought, let that be my overworked imagination.
11
“Well, thank goodness you’re home,” Mrs. Winston said as soon as I entered.
I barely heard her. My first thoughts went to what I thought I had seen up in my room. Was he waiting for me there? I doubted that Mrs. Winston would permit any guest to wait in a tenant’s room without the tenant present.
“Lorelei?”