Here I Stay by KATHY Read Free Book Online

I wouldn't want you to give up one of the last days of your vacation."
    "No sweat."
    "You just want an excuse to meet your idol," Andrea said.
    "No point trying to kid you, Andy; you know what a low-down, underhanded character I am. Let's go, Jimbo—I'll clear the table and you put the dishes in the dishwasher."
    Kevin was obviously planning to stay for a few days. It would not have occurred to either boy to mention this, much less ask permission, for that was not their custom; but when Andrea went to Jim's room to unpack for him, she found two large brown grocery bags of clothes she didn't recognize as her brother's. The life-style of the young male American never ceased to bewilder her; many of its elements reminded her of off-beat religious communities. Property was communal—they wore, each other's clothes, ate each other's food, stayed at one another's houses; time was a commodity to be enjoyed, not a series of boundaries restricting activity; trust was absolute, and betrayal of a brother to parents or police the ultimate sin. Sometimes Andrea felt like an anthropologist studying an exotic tribal group. More often she simply raged.
    So there was a certain malicious satisfaction in her manner when she set Kevin to the task of scrubbing toilets and scouring tubs. Jim tossed back the dustcloth she had handed him and insisted on helping his buddy. "Squatting is something I do well," he said, with a defiant grin. "Not so much to fold up anymore."
    By late afternoon Andrea had worked off her spite and was ready to dismiss her helpers. They expressed their intention of lying on the grass to "catch a few rays," and Andrea gave bathroom and guest room a final check. She had decided to give Greenspan the Lincoln Room. It was her favorite, the best and the most expensive room in the house, with its bay window overlooking the stream.
    Before she left the room, Andrea lifted the dust ruffle and looked under the bed. Satan was not in the room. She was determined he should not get in. She could have put Greenspan somewhere else, since only two couples were expected that weekend, but she was damned if she was going to allow a fat arrogant black cat to monopolize her best room.
    The sun was dropping toward the mountaintops when she went onto the front porch with a magazine and a glass of iced tea. The wicker rocking chair was soft and comfortable—she had made sure of that—but this was the first time she had relaxed in it, swaying gently to and fro, her aching back supported by soft cushions. The magazine had an article she wanted to read, but instead of opening it she feasted her eyes on the vision she had sometimes thought she would never see again.
    The boys, still recumbent, added nothing to the tone of the establishment. Empty beer cans littered the lawn, and the old blanket on which they lay looked as if it had been used to clean a car engine. Jim seemed to be asleep, one arm over his face. Kevin, flat on his belly, was reading. His bare back was a mosaic of peeling sunburn, freckles, and—if Andrea's eyes did not deceive her—the red flush of an incipient poison-ivy rash. She rocked slowly back and forth, her hands folded in her lap.

II
    Dinner at the restaurant was a success. Kevin fell in love with Reba at first sight; from the fascinated gleam in his eyes Andrea could tell he was planning to use her in the novel he had been writing for three years. Instead of shaking the gnarled fist she extended, he raised it to his lips, bowing low. Reba guffawed and gave him a slap on the back that made him stagger.
    The specialties of Peace and Plenty were crab cakes and fried chicken. The boys had both, accompanied by mounds of mashed potatoes, uncounted ears of corn, innumerable homemade biscuits, and quarts of milk. Elbows on the table, Reba urged them to eat more.
    She thanked Andrea again for altering her plans, and added reassuringly, "The inn is going to be a hit; I can feel it. But I'm glad you're here, Jim. Good to have a