Jane Austen in Boca by Paula Marantz Cohen Read Free Book Online Page B

was genuinely concerned. More than concerned. Ready to solve the problem. I thought maybe she could find me a few spare children for my old age.”
    “I wouldn’t put it past her,” sighed May.
    “Well, she dug up that Norman Grafstein for you,” noted Lila with approval. “I’d call that a nice gesture. And the other one didn’t look so bad, either.”
    “Awful,” pronounced Flo. “Norman was fine, but the other one, Stan Jacobs, was a pill.”
    “Flo was upset because he didn’t laugh at her jokes,” observed Lila.
    “You were a bit direct,” agreed May. “You might have hurt his feelings.”
    “Feelings—at his age? It’s an affectation to have feelings at our age.”
    “Men don’t like to be made fun of,” cautioned Lila, “at any age. Or to think that you might be smarter than they are.”
    “Well, I thought Stan Jacobs was nice,” said May.
    “You think everyone’s nice.”
    “Norman said that Stan lost his wife only a year ago.”
    “So we all lost a spouse recently, give or take a year. I don’t see anyone walking on eggshells with us.”
    “But Flo dear, you come at them with a sledgehammer,” said Lila. “A little gentleness is seductive.”
    “Gentleness does not come as easily to me as it does to May. She’s gentle by nature. And I could see that she captivated Norman Grafstein—to his credit.”
    “Oh, please,” said May. “He was only being polite.”
    “From what I could see, he was very attentive to May,” agreed Lila.
    “Yes,” laughed Flo, reverting to her usual tone, “when a man of that age actually registers your existence and doesn’t simply expound to the furniture, you know you’ve made a strong impression.”
    “Oh, Flo, you’re terrible!” protested May, but it was clear that she was pleased. Norman Grafstein
had
noticed her, and she had to admit that she liked being noticed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    T HERE WAS NO CALL FROM N ORMAN G RAFSTEIN THAT WEEK, BUT on the way out of the movies at City Place on Friday night, Flo and May (Lila had gone to dinner with Hy) bumped into him with a woman on his arm. May caught sight of him first and tried to maneuver to avoid a direct encounter, but Norman, apparently unembarrassed, hailed them down.
    “Ladies, I was going to call,” he said jovially, looking at May in particular, “and I will, I promise. Excuse me, this is a friend: Dory Feldman.”
    “Feldstein,” corrected the woman.
    “My mistake, Feldstein. She lives at Broken Arrow. We’re neighbors.” He continued to smile at May with apparent unself-consciousness, as if to say that it was only natural that he would be at the movies with a woman, there being so many of them around.
    “Well, we better hurry or we’ll miss the movie,” announced May, dragging Flo by the arm. Norman had seemed eager to chat, but she hardly felt up to it. She was more pleased to see him than she expected, and more disappointed to see him with someone else.
    Once inside, Flo looked at the flustered face of her friend and shook her head. “You’re too upset, you know.”
    “I’m not upset,” said May, trying to regain her composure.
    “It’s not his fault,” said Flo. “I’m sure
she
asked
him.
He’s been widowed two years. The attention must be overwhelming.”
    “I’m sure it is,” said May sadly. “I don’t see why he’d want to go out with me.”
    “Because you’re sweet and modest and delightful to be with,” Flo explained. “Because you don’t wear bugle beads and your fingernails aren’t going to send him to the hospital for stitches.”
    “I’m not flashy,” agreed May, “if that’s what you mean. But maybe he likes flashy.” She thought of the woman Feldman or Feldstein whom Norman had been with. She was wearing a cape and leather pants.
    “I’m just saying that you’re naturally attractive, and if I’m any judge, he likes that.”
    May blushed. “Do you think so?”
    “I do. I’m guessing he’ll call you tomorrow—unless, of