Ira Levin by Son Of Rosemary (v0.9) (htm) Read Free Book Online Page B

mike van buren, in a red tie, white shirt, blue suit, and gold i *ment andy button, a carving knife in one hand and a two-pronged fork in the other, stepped back from the head of the table to allow his sister and campaign manager Brooke, in a white apron over a blue dress, to set down a large, succulent turkey bedded in parsley on a white china platter. The guests clapped, twelve on each side of the table, their faces bright with light bouncing from white damask, white china, silver, and glass.
        Brooke moved aside, shaking her hands and blowing at them, as Mike stepped forward. "It's just beautiful, Brooke!" he said. "Compliments to Dinah!"
        Another hand for Dinah-in the kitchen, presumably, and not alone.
        Rosemary, seated at Van Bureii's left, scanned the opposite team as she clapped. Could you believe it? Every man, from Andy across from her down to Joe, and the men on her side of the table too-she leaned forward and looked past Rob Patterson clapping-yes, every last man at the table had on a basically red tie, a white shirt, and a blue suit. All wore plain or fancy i caret andy buttons comexcept, of course, the Great Communicator himself. At least his suit had a pinstripe. And of course he looked fabulous, dressed decently for a change.
        "Folks…" Van Buren said. He stood behind the turkey with his arms at his sides, waiting for silence. "Before we go any further…" He turned to his right and smiled. "Andy, will you do us the honor of saying grace?"
        "No, sir," Andy said, smiling back at him, "not when Rob Patterson is at the table."
        Murmurs of approval hummed. Mark Mead, the executive director of Patterson's Christian Consortium, leaned clear of the woman at his left and smiled at Andy. "Well spoken, Andy," he said.
        Patterson himself, standing up beside Rosemary, said, "Thank you, Andy. I've never been more flattered in my life. If you'll bow your heads…"
        Rosemary stole a peek across the table,- Andy winked at her, and rubbed at his eye as if something had gotten into it.
        When the relatively brief sermon was over, Van Buren started carving. He was good at it; you had to give him credit. Leaning over the turkey, operating on its outer side with knife, fork, and occasional shears, he sliced off leaf after unbroken leaf of dark meat and light, talking all the while. "As a former broadcaster myself, Rosemary, I can tell you with a fair degree of authority that you acquitted yourself magnificently yesterday."
        "Thank you," she said.
        "You radiate candor and sincerity. Those are admirable qualities in a woman."
        "And not in a man?" she asked.
        "And a ready wit!" Van Buren cast a pixie smile at her, slicing away. "That's something I value highly."
        "Rosemary, my dear."
        She turned to Rob Patterson.
        "That was so gracious of Andyst" he said. "So typical of his boundless generosity. It's a moment I'll treasure the rest of my life."
        Smiling at him, she said, "You're too kind."
        "Sometimes, Rosemary," Rob Patterson said, touching her wrist, "I feel that Andy himself is a mite too kind, and too generous, and too forbearing. I'm thinking in particular about PA'S, in connection with the candles. I hope you don't share your son's tolerant position. I feel Mike is dead right on this one,- something has to be done about them, they're going to spoil it for the rest of us!"
        She knew that PA'S were paranoid atheists, and one of the GC commercials she had seen early on had something to do with candles, but she had no idea what the man was talking about. She looked for help, but the
        Great Communicator was communicating with the Great Slicer.
        The woman beyond Pattersoii rescued her, slapping his arm with gusto. "Now, Rob, don't you start bawling about PA'S again! This is the day we count our blessings, not our curses, isn't that so, Rosemary? Andy says a few candles