Love Me Tonight. Gwynne Forster

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ o’clock. Money don’t grow on trees.”

      He sat beside her on the swing in the screened-in porch, and gazed at the irises, peonies, roses, daises and other flowers that beautified and perfumed the garden. “This place is enchanting,” he said.

      “I’m happy here, Judson. Now, tell me what I can do for you.”

      “My adoptive mother passed on about a month ago. It’s been a terrible blow to me, especially since my dad died a couple of years ago.”

      Cissy’s eyebrows eased up. “Who was your dad?”

      “Louis Philips. He was a wonderful father, and I still miss him.”

      “I imagine you do. What do you need to know?”

      “As I told you, I’m adopted. I’d like to know who my birth parents were. I never asked my parents, because I didn’t want them to think I was unhappy. I wasn’t. They gave me far more than my share. However, I need to know who I am.”

      “You look like a prosperous man, and the way you talk tells me you’re educated. What kind of work do you do?”

      “I’m a lawyer, and I have a degree in law from Harvard.”

      “Good, then I know you’ll know how to handle what I’m going to tell you. I don’t know how it applies to you, but this is what I know about Beverly Moten. She had a baby out of wedlock when she was, oh, I don’t know, twenty-two or twenty-three. She was going around with this man, but she never married him. After she had the baby, she left the boy here with her mother and moved to Baltimore.”

      “It was a boy?” She nodded. He started adding. Twenty-two or twenty-three. He was thirty-four, and his adoptive mother was fifty-seven when she died. Was that the other child? He shrugged.

      “That’s not the end of it,” she went on. “When the child was about three, I guess, she married and she came back and got the child from her mama. After that, she never returned here.”

      His adrenaline shot up, and he could barely manage to remain seated. “Who was the man who fathered that child?”

      “Well, you know, that’s not something anybody can swear to, but I remember she was in love with the man, an architect, who designed and built the Americana Hotel. They can tell you his name. It wasn’t a common name. My daughter-in-law might remember it. I’ll recognize it if I hear it. A lot of our young girls were after him, because he was one good-looking man, tall and… If I’d a been single, I’d a gone after him, too.” She laughed. “A bit older than Beverly, but that didn’t seem to bother her.”

      He wanted to know about the man’s character, in case he was on the right track. “Did he date all those girls?”

      “Not to my knowledge. It looked like he was as crazy about Beverly as she was about him. Nobody ever could say why they didn’t get married. Come on in here while I get our lunch together. I hope you like home-cooked food.”

      “I certainly do, and I haven’t had any since my mom got sick.” He took a bottle of perfume out of his coat pocket and gave it to her. “I didn’t know what to bring you, but I figured every woman likes this.”

      Her eyes rounded to twice their size. “This woman certainly does. This is quite a gift. Thank you so much. I don’t know when I last had any perfume.” She handed him the bottle. “Would you please open it? I’ll just put on a little dab of it. I always used to put it on my handkerchief, but nowadays it’s so dear.” She put some on her index finger, sniffed and a wide smile covered her face. “This is just the kind of scent I love.”

      She put the food on the kitchen table, turned on the air conditioner and handed him a face towel. “You can wash up right around there.”

      Cissy said grace holding his hand and then passed him a platter that contained barbecued baby back ribs, broiled lamb chops and grilled pork loin. “Help yourself. There’s plenty more.”

      His gaze took in a pan of baked corn bread, string beans, rice, sliced tomatoes and pickled beets. “I know I’m a big guy, Aunt Cissy, but this is enough food right here for six people.”

      “Oh, go on. Who cooks for you?”

      “I’m thinking about getting a cook, but right now, I do. I also eat out a lot.”

      “And you take home a lot of pizzas and beer. Right?”

      “Bad, huh?”

      “Yes, sirree. Do you have a nice girl?”

      “I met someone recently, and I think she may be the one. I’m not sure.”

      “Of course you’re not sure if you haven’t known her longer than that. Anyway, finding the right person is part luck. What does she do?”

      He told her.

      “That’s a good fit for you. You willing to live wherever she goes?”

      He liked that question. Aunt Cissy was a modern woman, her age notwithstanding. “If it gets to that point, we’ll have to strike a deal. I haven’t looked that far ahead.”

      “Well, you better. It’s those surprises up ahead that throw a monkey wrench into the sweetest relationships. You be careful.”

      “Yes, ma’am. I generally stay alert to what’s going on in my life.”

      After lunch, they sat in the cool living room, and he shared with her his fondest memories of his mother.

      “She raised a fine man. No matter what happens and what you find out, always remember that.”

      “Yes, ma’am. I’d better move on, Aunt Cissy. I want to get to the Americana Hotel. Is it far?”

      “Nothing’s far here, son. Drive to the corner, turn left and drive till you see the hotel. It’s about ten blocks.”

      She walked to the door with him, and he gazed down at her with mixed feelings. There were so many things he wanted to ask her that he knew she hadn’t told him, and he wanted to stay longer. But the answer he sought could be ten blocks away. It was only a slim chance, but he wanted to know for certain.

      “Thanks for that wonderful lunch and for receiving me so kindly. I won’t forget it. If you need anything ever, you know how to reach me.”

      “Thank you, son, and thanks for my lovely perfume.”

      Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the Americana Hotel, presented his card to the receptionist and asked to speak with the manager. A short, formally dressed man appeared at once. “Is there a problem?” the manager asked him.

      “No, there isn’t a problem, sir,” he said and shook hands with the manager. “I’m Judson Philips, and I wonder if you can tell me who designed and built this lovely hotel.”

      The manager beamed. “It is a fine one, isn’t it? Just a minute. Have a seat.”

      Judson wasn’t in the habit of perspiring so profusely, but as he waited for the manager to return, the sweat soaked his shirt in spite of the comfortable air-conditioning. The manager СКАЧАТЬ