Brown-Eyed Girl by Virginia Swift Read Free Book Online Page A

archives, and to see if I mightn’t steal you for a spot of lunch next Thursday. Give you time to settle in, then we can have a nice chat about those moldy old papers of Meg’s,” he told her.
    â€œI hope to hell they’re not moldy, Egan. The house seems tight enough.” Careful, Sal. No need to be irritated.
    â€œJust a manner of speaking, ducky. But I do so want to talk to you about how to treat Meg’s precious legacy. After all, you’ll need some professional advice on how to make your way through the mess. I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but Meg was never what you’d call a compulsive organizer. I hear that when they unlocked the door to her office in the English department after she died, the place was knee-deep in books, papers, half-dead aspidistras, and I don’t know what ! They say Maude Stark showed up and just started throwing things in boxes and carting them out. I can only begin to imagine what she’s left us!” he finished with a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes skyward.
    Sally took a deep breath, and found the sense to wonder why she was already feeling defensive on Meg’s behalf, why it bugged the crap out of her to hear Egan refer to Dunwoodie as “Meg,” and why Egan’s offer to help shouldn’t be seen as sensible and generous, even if selfserving. “I appreciate the offer, Egan, really I do.” She even laid a hand on his arm, thinking she’d learned something about diplomacy after two decades in academia. She’d find a wall to kick soon. “And I’d love to have lunch Thursday. I really need any advice you can give me.”
    â€œWell, dearie, I do have one piece of early advice,” said Egan. Sally hoped he wouldn’t bring up the idea of moving the papers to a secure room in the archives. She really didn’t want anybody else deciding when, where, and how she could get to the papers and do her work. Fortunately, Maude appeared from around the side of the house. She was carrying a basketful of perfectly shaped zucchinis, glowing carrots, slender green beans.
    â€œDo you mind if I take a few veggies home, Sally? There’s lots back there—I’ll show you as soon as you have time. Oh, hello Egan—I didn’t know you were here.”
    â€œMaude, ever the faithful retainer,” Egan greeted her, automatically patronizing, but evidently uncomfortable. Egan was not blessed with great height. He had to crank his head back to look Maude in the eye, so he settled for looking in the direction of her neck. “I’ve just come by to welcome our new Dunwoodie Professor on behalf of the Archives, and to be on my merry way. Do take care of our girl, won’t you?”
    â€œYou can bet on it Egan. And she’ll take good care of Margaret’s papers, I’m sure.”
    Maude made it a dismissal, and Egan hustled to leave. He turned to Sally, saying, “I’ll ring you about the details for Thursday, old thing. Cheer-o.”
    Watching him walk down her—Dunwoodie’s—front walk, Sally remembered that she’d always thought Egan walked as if he were trying to keep a cork from popping out of some critical orifice. “Thanks for saving me, Maude,” she told the housekeeper, and meant it. Then she said more, knowing she shouldn’t and not knowing why she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Why trust Maude? “I realize I have to deal with him, but to tell you the truth, he’s always driven me bat-sh—uh, crazy.”
    â€œThink nothing of it,” Maude said, “he drives me batshit, too.”

Chapter 5
Katmandu Calling
    Sally developed a provisional routine. Dawn came early. Through the east window of Meg’s bedroom the sun came up and poured in just as the winsome young Joni Mitchell had imagined, so very long ago, on some butterscotch Chelsea morning.
    Get the coffee going, return upstairs to shove on running gear, head to