Die a Little by Megan Abbott Read Free Book Online Page A

That's his story, anyway. I can't promise anything, but she knows better.
    Christ."
    Her head bobs wildly. I still can't hear him, even as I pass the kitchen units and near the sewing machines, about twenty feet from them. He never moves at all, so still, issuing the low tones of confidence and placidity.
    "Christ, why do you think she ... damn it, anyway. Well, she's made her bed and now ..."
    Alice's foot taps staccato, and suddenly she looks up from her own frantic tapping to the man. He meets her gaze, and then, as if feeling my struck gaze upon him, looks over to me.
    "Hello there," he says calmly, pausing a cool, languorous moment before moving out of his leaning slouch and standing upright. The eyes are the thing--like a Chinaman's. The heaviest lids you ever saw, barely any pupil can squeak through. Cushiony lids and puffy lower rims unbalanced by angular black brows.
    Die a Little -- 33 --
    Alice's head turns suddenly, jarringly to me, her eyes wide and glassy. Then she quickly smiles and runs over.
    "Oh, honey, Lora," she coos sweetly, and with surprising sincerity.
    "Let me introduce you." She hurries over to me, grabs my hands in her frosty ones, and tugs me back with her.
    The man, hat in one hand, holds out his other toward me. "Good to meet you, Miss King. I've heard ..." He trails off, touching his mouth to my hand, fingertips touching the back of my wrist so fleetingly I wonder if I imagine it.
    "This is an old friend," Alice says, tugging at the sleeves of her dress and standing very straight.
    "Oh?" I say politely, taking my hand back and burying it safely in my dress pocket.
    "I know Alice from when she was a little girl with curlicues and pantaloons." He winks at me, eyes, face impenetrable, voice soft and low. Utterly unreadable. Is he teasing? Is he lying? Is he sharing a sweet truth?
    "Family friends?" I find myself asking, when no one says anything.
    "You could say. Seems we've always known each other." A soft pause and a long arm out to Alice's shoulder as Alice smiles indecipherably. "But I've been living in Mexico for a while."
    "But you're back now." Alice looks up at him. "Isn't it wonderful that you're back? Make new friends but keep the old, as they say."
    Alice wrings her hands and rubs at her watch, pretending not to look at the time, and then abruptly, broadly, she does look, as if in a stage gesture.
    "Oh, Lora, it's late, isn't it?"
    "Yes," I say. "Should we go?"
    Alice nods anxiously and grabs her purse and gloves from the desk, navigating her way behind him.
    "I never did get your name," I find myself asking.
    "Joe Avalon," he says serenely, putting on his French gray felt hat.
    "Miss King, the pleasure has been mine."
    In the car afterward, Alice chatters away about her troublesome fifth-period class, about Nancy Turner, who is going to perform a monologue at the state drama competition, about the Handler girl with the dirty neck whose mother seems to have left town with a marine. She unleashes a stream of talk the likes of which I haven't heard since the night I first met her. A long rant filled with comments, thoughts, and questions for which she leaves no room for answers. Finally, "Isn't he the nicest fellow? He's an old family friend and he's always helped me out of jams. He just always seems to turn up when I'm in trouble, and for that, I'll always be grateful to him."
    Die a Little -- 34 --
    "So you're in trouble now?" I ask, turning the steering wheel as we enter their drive.
    "No, no, of course not. I didn't mean now. Just in the past, things I owe him for. Not that he expects more than a thanks. But I say it all just to suggest what a fine fellow he is. My friend Maureen, who dated him for a while, used to say, 'a stand-up guy.' That's what he is. Though I'm sure you couldn't tell that from the quick exchange, but even though he looks a little ... you know, he's really the kindest man you'll ever meet. I should have him over for dinner some night now that he's back in town. I'd