Think and Grow Rich. Napoleon Hill

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СКАЧАТЬ my dress. I’m tired of you hanging on to me.”

      The child, scowling and silent, let go and backed away a step, watching her intently. Then, as if this burst of anger had taken the last of her strength, the woman persisted tiredly. “And you married Douglas Colby?”

      Sudden alarm bells sounded in Beth’s mind. She half knew and dreaded what was coming. Surely, this couldn’t be Kayla, Doug’s daughter. No. Definitely not. Doug had said that Kayla had a child, but that child was a girl who would be about eight. This child was a boy, not more than three or so. But her quick sense of relief was shattered.

      “I’m Kayla, Doug’s daughter,” she said flatly, and Beth saw the little boy’s hands creep toward the flowing skirt and grasp it again, as if it were some sort of lifeline. Now she noticed that both his knees were skinned. Sometime some place today he had fallen and scraped his knees, but no one had cleaned them and put on protective bandages.

      Beth swallowed her disappointment. Well, they didn’t call her “perfect hostess” for nothing. She must do her best for Doug’s daughter.

      “Kayla, how lovely to see you. Doug and I were so sorry you didn’t get to our wedding.” It sounded hollow, but Kayla didn’t seem to notice.

      “Yeah,” she said. “Dad and I have our ups and downs. We’re not what you might call close.” She shivered, seeming to huddle inside the large jacket.

      “Well, come in,” Beth said quickly. “I’m just getting back from some errands. Your little boy must be freezing. This is such a cold spring. Usually by April it begins to warm up a bit.” She fumbled for her key as they went up the steps to the big porch. She longed for the sense of security she always felt when entering the big front door with its heavy oak panels and oval of etched glass. This was the house she had fallen in love with thirty years ago.

      Talk, Beth! Put Kayla at ease.

      “One of the things that first brought your father and me together was the fact that we both had grown daughters, and both had been widowed.” September love, her daughter Kate had called her midlife marriage to Doug Colby.

      Inside the hallway, she remembered Doug’s words after he had met both her daughters, Jill and Kate. “You and your husband did a wonderful job raising your girls. I’m afraid I failed there.” And Doug’s eyes, reflecting some inner sorrow, had seemed to be looking at something in another place and time. “I was away so much. On my job, you know. Whenever Kayla needed me…I wasn’t there for her.” Then quickly, defensively, he had added, “Kayla’s a lovely person, but she’s had…some problems. I blame myself, of course. I… Right now, I don’t even know where she is.” The admission had cost him a lot. They had just come from the big Thanksgiving dinner at Kate’s. He had seen her daughters at their best. Kate, so steady, so competent, so stable. And Jill, so bright and resourceful. And both married to good husbands and raising their own families.

      “Well, now that you’re here, Kayla, you and your dad can catch up.” She knew her voice was too bright, but Kayla didn’t seem to notice. She was looking around the large entry hall.

      “You’ve certainly got a big house,” she said. The child was looking around, too, still frowning slightly, pressing himself against Kayla’s leg.

      “The house is old,” Beth explained. “Built back when architects didn’t mind wasting space. But I never think of it as wasted. I like some space.” She looked around the familiar hall. She had worked for years at the decorating, budgeting carefully to get the very best in antique-designed wallpaper for the large dining room, or the brass andirons for the several fireplaces, or the special paneling for her late-husband Ralph’s study. He had so liked to read in there. In the house’s heyday, before its bed-and-breakfast incarnation, it had been featured in several Gracious Homes of the Northwest tours for charity.

      The grand old house had settled gracefully into its new life as a B and B when she had learned that the pension of a city librarian’s widow wasn’t going to be enough. And she had been determined not to be a burden on her daughters. For the first time in her life she had needed to earn money.

      Not too many changes had been required, just a little remodeling to meet city codes. A small registration desk had been added to the front hallway, plus an attractive rack to hold Seattle postcards, printed recipes of house specialties, along with some tourist leaflets for the guests to take.

      Beth led Kayla and her child into the large living room. “What’s his name, your little boy?” Beth asked.

      “Oh, him? His name’s Adam.”

      At the sound of his name, he looked up expectantly at Kayla and said the first word he had spoken so far. “Hungry.” His voice was somewhat husky, and his frown deepened.

      “What a lovely room. Lovely chairs,” Kayla said, ignoring Adam, a sigh in her voice. “Mind if I just collapse awhile?” She sat down in one of the deep chairs.

      “Hungry,” Adam persisted, standing close to her.

      “Kids are always hungry.” Kayla opened her large satchel-like tote of limp gray vinyl. “You can have the rest of the fries.” She rummaged in the big bag and pulled out a greasy paper bag. “I’ll level with you, Beth. I’ve just about hit bottom again. I guess Bottom is my hometown. But I had enough after bus fare to get us something to eat in a burger place. I tried to make it last awhile, but Adam whined all the way from Phoenix. Kids are bottomless pits. Here.” She handed the greasy bag to Adam.

      To Beth’s dismay, the little boy took it eagerly and sat down on the floor beside Kayla’s feet. Carefully, with deep concentration, he opened the bag, took out a limp string of potato and ate it hungrily. Then he poked his dirty little fingers into the bag again.

      Beth bit back a dozen questions. What could she say to Kayla? This was Doug’s daughter. A daughter who had some problems. She felt a kind of inward weeping. I will help you. I have food. I will feed your child. I will give you a place. I will fix your lovely hair. I will find you something to wear. I will… I will… I will… Unable to speak for a moment, she looked at Kayla.

      “Yeah. I know I’m a mess,” Kayla said dully. Then, as if she had read Beth’s mind, she added, “I don’t suppose you have a place I could wash up. And I’d like to clean Adam up. You know my dad…doesn’t even know he has a grandson—” Her voice broke.

      Beth, unable not to, went to her side and put her arms around the thin shoulders.

      “Of course you can wash up. Adam, too. And why don’t I fix you a snack? It’s a long time until dinner.” She was thinking swiftly. Only three of the bedrooms were taken for tonight. There was that big room at the back, with an adjoining bath. She could put Kayla and Adam in there for the night. It was reserved for tomorrow. Then she would move them to what she called the “bed-sitter.” It was the small, ground-floor room that had served as her sewing room when she had had time to sew. She had made it into a small, extra place for the peak season when everything in Seattle was full and someone called desperately from the airport. There was a sofa bed and no bath. But behind an ornamental screen there was a basin with hot and cold water.

      “Where is your luggage, Kayla?” she asked. Kayla would certainly need a change of clothing, and the child… She glanced again at the little boy. He was digging fruitlessly into the now empty bag. All the limp fries were gone. Determinedly, he began to lick the remaining salt from his grubby fingers.

      “I did have luggage when СКАЧАТЬ