Loss of Innocence by Richard North Patterson Read Free Book Online Page B

questioned all that. She argued that women aren’t discontent because of some personal or psychological problem, but because of societal assumptions that put them in a straightjacket.”
    Her mother turned to her with eyebrows arched. “I don’t know your professor, Whitney. But I once saw Betty Friedan on television. A hideous-looking woman, obviously compensating for her unhappiness through a sharp and aggressive manner. I would have felt sad for her but for all the women she’d confused in order to justify herself. I wonder if she likes men at all.”
    Though Anne was trying to be good-humored, Whitney heard an undercurrent of anger. “Professor Claymore wasn’t like that, Mom. She has a husband, but she also has a career.”
    “And so do I, Whitney. But mine acknowledges that men and women are different.” She paused, her manner becoming patient and tutorial. “Early on, I set out to establish my own relationship with your father’s business associates. One way was to ferret out their interests, then ask questions that allowed them to reveal themselves.
    “The men were often quite different, and sometimes difficult, which required me to be a bit of a chameleon. So it was better if whoever the man was never asked a single question about me, but left knowing that he’d had a fascinating conversation with an intelligent and sympathetic woman.” Anne smiled reflectively. “If you know men at all, you’ll be wholly unsurprised by how well that works.”
    “But didn’t you ever want to tell them what you thought?”
    “Why would I?” Anne’s voice softened. “However I appear, I’m a very private person. I never really wanted people to know that much about me. If you’re a woman that’s easier to get by with.”
    “And men are different.”
    “Oh, yes. Your dad needed to be known, and to make a name in business. Not just because he wanted to build the firm, but because that was his essential nature. He arranges his surroundings as he wants them to be.” Anne’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “In his benign way, my father said that Charles was heaven-sent to keep our family’s blood from thinning out. Looking at our family tonight, he’s certainly done that. You girls were all the credentials I ever needed.”
    For an instant, Whitney chafed at the word “credentials.” But what followed was an intuitive sense of her mother’s loneliness, even her need for Janine as a surrogate. Without quite knowing why, she drew Anne to her, feeling her mother’s instinctive resistance to closeness, perhaps fear of vulnerability, before she yielded to her daughter’s embrace.
    “I love you, Mom,” Whitney told her.

Seven
    As Whitney entered the living room, Janine turned to her, eyes alight, body tensile. “Let’s go out, Whitney.”
    From the couch, Clarice gave her friend a wry look. “Where?” Whitney asked in her most dubious tone.
    “Aren’t there clubs on this island? Here there’s nothing but the sound of crickets.”
    “Whitney likes the crickets,” Clarice advised her. “This
is
her engagement we’re celebrating, after all.”
    “So bring Peter,” Janine urged her sister. “I’m sure he’d like to hear some music, maybe dance a little.”
    “For Peter,” Whitney answered, “dancing means letting me circle him like a maypole. Anyhow, I think we’re headed for a quiet evening. While we’re listening to the crickets, maybe we can look up at the stars.”
    Janine frowned, tossing down her port before spinning on Clarice. “Come on, Clarice—let’s go to Edgartown.”
    Clarice favored Whitney with a martyr’s thin smile. With preemptive firmness, she told Janine, “Only if I drive.”
    Triumphant, Janine stood at once. “I’ll go freshen my makeup,” she said and hurried from the room.
    Watching this, Whitney murmured, “How can anyone be that restless.”
    “The real problem,” Clarice responded glumly, “is that she can’t be restless alone.”
    “You really don’t