Grand Avenue by Joy Fielding Read Free Book Online Page A

that her son worked much toohard for his wife to throw away his hard-earned money on something as frivolous as designer water. And she’d be right, Barbara thought, dropping a $10 bill on the table and fleeing the restaurant, pursued by her mother-in-law’s silent but steady recriminations. Did she have no regard for how hard Ron worked to support his family? A university professor’s salary wasn’t exactly a king’s ransom. Couldn’t she show at least a little restraint? Look at Sheila …
    By the time Barbara stepped out onto Belvedere Street, she was blinking back the renewed threat of tears. Dabbing at her bottom lashes with the side of her index finger, careful not to disturb what she prayed was water-proof mascara, she reached into her purse for her sunglasses, shoving them none too gently over the bridge of her nose, trying to obliterate the image of her mother-in-law’s ferretlike face. Was it fair that her own mother, a woman as warm and caring as she was beautiful, had died of acute lymphatic leukemia shortly after Tracey’s birth, while Ron’s mother, who was as cold and mean-spirited as she was unattractive, would probably live forever? “Damn it,” Barbara said into the palm of her hand, realizing just how much she’d been looking forward to lunch with her friends, especially to seeing Chris.
    Of all the Grand Dames, Chris was Barbara’s favorite. Susan was great—genuine and down-to-earth, if a little too practical for Barbara’s taste, and Vicki was … well, Vicki was Vicki, dynamic and lots of fun, but she could be very indiscreet. Barbara had learned long ago not to tell Vicki anything she wouldn’t feel comfortable seeing on the front page of the
Cincinnati Post
.It was with Chris that Barbara felt the closest bond. Perhaps because neither worked outside the home, Chris always had time for her. She never made Barbara’s concerns seem shallow or unimportant; she never walked away from her in midconversation, never made her feel insignificant. Thank God Tony had finally found another job. Not that Chris had ever complained. Still, the situation couldn’t have been pleasant, which might account for why she’d suddenly come down with the flu. Didn’t the experts claim depression weakened the immune system? Although it had been weeks since Tony had started his new job, and still Chris seemed preoccupied. Something was wrong. She’d have to talk to Chris when she was feeling better, get her to open up.
    Barbara stood for several seconds in the middle of the sidewalk in front of The Foxfire Grille, her stomach rumbling its confusion. She needed food and she needed reassurance that all was right with the world. She checked her watch. Closing in on 12:45. If she hurried, she could just make it to the university in time to take her handsome husband out to lunch.
    Less than ten minutes later, Barbara pulled her black Sierra into a newly vacated spot on Clifton Avenue, more commonly referred to as Fraternity Row because of the plethora of fraternity and sorority houses that lined the right side of the street, and raced toward the campus of the University of Cincinnati, America’s second-oldest and second-largest municipal university. Hurrying past the towering white concrete structure that was the Brodie Science and Engineering Center,she located the more modest two-story red-brick building that housed the Department of Social Studies, where her husband taught courses in basic psychology and human behavior. Nodding a vague hello to several denim-and-leather-clad students gathered near the front steps, Barbara pulled open the heavy oak front door and proceeded down the long hallway, her high heels in noisy contrast to the sneakers everyone else seemed to be wearing.
    It was a beautiful old building, Barbara thought, picking up her pace just slightly as she turned right and continued on down the corridor, lined with old black-and-white photographs of long-ago alumnae. Lots of dark wood paneling,