Girl on the Best Seller List by Vin Packer Read Free Book Online

long-past tea parties, sit-down dinners, coffee klatsches with just the two of them; it was always the same, that smile.
    Fern said, “You
under-dress,
dear.”
    “Is that Freddy’s business?”
    It was a senseless rejoinder.
    “Of course it isn’t his business,” said Fern, “but you asked me why Freddy’s stuffy where you’re concerned, didn’t you?”
    Gloria couldn’t remember. She sipped the Nescafé wordlessly.
    “Honey,” said Fern, “I
like
the way you are! I’m not like Freddy. I don’t care what you wear, or if you belong to the Birthday Club, or whether you take the right fork at dinner, or what kind of comment you make about food, or finger bowls, or any of it! Don’t you see that?”
    “Freddy … stuffy,” was all Gloria could manage.
    “Yes, Freddy stuffy,” said Fern more sharply. “Of course he has his naïve side too. For instance, he didn’t believe the part in the book about — what did you call me? Oh yes,
Fernanda.
He simply refused to believe the part about Fernanda seducing her psychoanalyst.” She let her large brown eyes raise to meet Gloria’s straight on. “I’m glad he didn’t believe it,” she said without a trace of a smile. She was angry, in fact, really angry. “It would have caused a lot of trouble for me
and
Jay.”
    Gloria Wealdon glanced at the clock on the kitchen shelf. It was five minutes past eleven. She was sorry the subject of Jay Mannerheim and Fern had come up, even though she knew that eventually it was inevitable.
    She also knew that given enough time she could reason with Fern, help Fern to see that Jay was a selfish egotist using his so-called profession (he was
not
an M.D.) for his own gain, just as Gloria had shown in
Population 12,360.
Despite the fact that Gloria Wealdon felt less and less impressed by Fern Fulton lately, Fern was probably the only friend she had in Cayuta, New York. Until she was positive that she was not going to be in Cayuta through the summer, Gloria decided she had to make an effort to stay friends with Fern.
    She said, “I want to have a long talk with you about why I used that in my book, Fern. I really do! Not now — now I haven’t got time, but let’s make a date to discuss it. I’d like to let my hair down with you.”
    “It
doesn’t
look attractive in Milo’s old socks,” Fern answered without any humor in her tone. Then she stood up. “I’ll heat more water. You have time for another cup, don’t you?”
    The chameleonic mood of the morning threw Gloria Wealdon off. For the first time since her arrival back in Cayuta, she felt less sure of her ground. She could not pin down Fern’s attitude toward her.
    “I have time for
one
more,” she said. And now, Fern’s huge ears seemed somehow less grotesque than ominous, like two surreptitious listening posts that had been there all the time, of course. But before she could decide what was frightening about the thought, Fern’s face was cut with the familiar large smile, her voice was bright again, as she gathered up the cups and saucers. “I have some divine coffee cake. I want you to try it. New York City or no, you won’t taste anything like this anywhere!”
    She walked toward the kitchen, her pale yellow chiffon robe trailing along the thick amber rug.
    Outside in the yard, Freddy and Virginia were still attacking the weeds by the hedge. Gloria could not help feeling sorry for Fern, naming that unattractive child with the brave hope she would turn out to be as “maidenly and pure” as
What Shall We Name the Baby?
promised a Virginia would be. Gloria remembered that Fern had once said, “It’s funny, but I don’t really want the baby to grow up and be some kind of wild heart-breaker. I want her to be modest and maybe a little old-fashioned, you >know?” That was when “Ginny” was five, when they still believed growth would correct her eyes, and before she had developed into the slow, odd and unpopular maverick she was. It was before Fern