Beverly Byrne by Come Sunrise Read Free Book Online Page B

the
table was almost empty. Luke left right away, without saying when he'd see her
next.
     
    The
next day Amy felt guilty, as if she were to blame for Tommy's bad temper and
the way it had spoiled the holiday. Lil was regretful too. "Why don't you
ring up the boys," she said anxiously. "See if they'd like to come
for supper and help eat the leftover turkey. It's always better the second
day."
     
    Amy
tried the number, but there was no reply. "No one seems to be home,"
she reported. "Not even the maid. Isn't that odd?"
     
    Lil
fumbled with the fichu of lace at her throat. "Not really. I believe Luke
manages with only a weekly cleaning woman now. He's on his own most of the
time, and he has so many of his meals here," she added hastily.
     
    They
didn't mention the boys again. Amy went riding on Saturday afternoon. The rest
of the time she kept to her room and read.
     
    On
Sunday morning Luke arrived alone. Only Amy was home. "Lil and Warren are
at church," she explained. "How come you're not?"
     
    "I
couldn't sleep, so I went early. Lots of maids and bus drivers and people like
that. Quite nice, really."
     
    She
knew that it was customary for all the Westermans to attend the eleven o'clock
high mass at St. Ignatius. Tommy had once described it to her. "Mustering
the forces for a full dress parade," he'd called it. She thought of that
every Sunday when she saw Warren depart in his morning coat and striped
trousers and spats. She had wondered if Luke wore the same formal attire on
those occasions. He certainly wasn't dressed like that this morning. He was
wearing trousers and a sweater. The casual clothes emphasized his long, lean
body.
     
    "Is
Tommy coming here after Mass?" she asked. "I should tell Maureen if
there's going to be extras for lunch. "
     
    "Tommy's
gone back to Washington. He left yesterday."
     
    "But
he didn't even come to say goodbye! Lil and Warren will be hurt."
     
    "I
know. He can be a sod sometimes. And we had a row, which made it worse."
     
    She
felt again that uncomfortable sensation of guilt. "I've never seen you and
Tommy fight seriously."
     
    "This
was a humdinger. Don't look like that. It will blow over. Things are a little
tense just now, that's all. And his leg was hurting, for all he denied
it."
     
    "What
did you fight about?"
     
    Luke
flashed his incomparable sunny smile. Amy had begun to suspect that he used the
smile and his good looks as a way of keeping others at arm's length. "We
disagreed about some suggestions Uncle Donald has made about financial matters.
That's all."
     
    She
moved closer to him. Luke hadn't kissed her since the day in the park three
weeks before, not even a brotherly peck on the forehead. Now she stood on
tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "You mustn't worry about anything," she
said. "And you must never fight with Tommy about me."
     
    "You!
My dear girl, you're getting too big for your boots! Fight about a mere child,
indeed." He laughed at her and tweaked her nose. "Maybe when you grow
up. Certainly not now. Let's have some music."
     
    He
could play almost as well as Lil, and she sat next to him on the piano bench
and turned the pages. Sometimes they broke off and practiced a dance step. Luke
was a superb dancer. He held her masterfully and moved with the same effortless
coordination he displayed on the tennis court.
     
     

6
     
    SARAH,
THE  ENGAGED  WESTERMAN COUSIN, WAS launched on a series of prenuptial
festivities. Amy was usually invited. She listened to endless talk of weddings.
Visions of white satin and filmy lace began to fill her mind.
     
    Luke
collected her from a tea party at the home of a relative on Sixty-first Street.
"Shall we walk or take a cab?"
     
    "Let's
walk. It's early yet."
     
    They
strolled up Lexington Avenue in the wintery dusk, past St. Vincent Ferrer's
Church where she had waited for him that summer's day when they came together
to the city. The memory was unspoken, but acknowledged, between them. "I
know you so much better