Pascal's Wager by Nancy Rue Read Free Book Online Page B

most bone-chilling thing I could imagine.
    By that afternoon, I had gone after my hair with my hands so many times that Jacoboni took one look at me when he came in and said, “Did you get the license number of that semi?”
    Fortunately my cell phone rang just then, or I probably would have said something like, “Are you referring to the one that dragged
you
in here?”
    â€œJill!” Max said when I answered. “It’s your Uncle Max.”
    â€œHi,” I said. “What’s up?”
    If he noticed my clipped tone, he didn’t let on.
    â€œHave you seen your mother since we talked? I’m not nagging you. Heaven forbid I should nag.”
    â€œYes, I saw her.”
    I moved out into the hall with the phone. Jacoboni had taken a sudden intense interest in his computer screen, a sure sign he was homing in on every word I said. The hallway itself was resembling Highway 101: Every freshman on campus was following Tabitha’s lead and skating through Alfred P. Sloan on roller blades, and that was compounded by the group of five male second-year grad students who seemed to be forever in the halls. I took the phone out the end door to the courtyard and sat on the edge of the circular planter that was overgrown with wandering Jew.
    â€œYou still there?” Max said. “Jill?”
    â€œYeah. Look, Max, I had lunch with Mother, and I know you think she’s the queen of Sheba, but I
know
she’s got a problem.” I gave him the
Reader’s Digest
version of our lunch date. He groaned with increasing drama at every plot twist.
    â€œNobody acts like that unless she’s seriously hitting the bottle,” I said.
    â€œYou actually smelled liquor on her breath?” Max said. “I’m just asking?”
    â€œNo, but who could tell with the amount of perfume she was wearing? Since when did she start bathing in fragrance and forgetting the smaller niceties—like combing her hair?”
    â€œThe stress is getting to her. I knew it—I saw it coming—but does she listen to me?” Max sniffed. Any minute now he was going to start blowing his nose. I could feel myself stiffening. I was already squeezing perspiration out of the cell phone.
    â€œWhat do you want me to do about it, Max?” I said. “I told you—when I even hinted that she might have, oh, a headache, she practically cleared the table. Do
you
want to be on the receiving end of one of her tirades?”
    â€œI don’t want to ruin a beautiful friendship. You, she’ll forgive. Me, she’ll put out with the garbage.”
    â€œOh, come on, Max, you two have been friends for twenty-five years. And if she comes after you with her saber tongue, you’ll stand there and take it until she’s worn herself out. If she comes after me, I’ll say things I’ll regret and put even
more
distance between us. That’s why I don’t get into it with her, ever.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about—-what distance? Her whole world revolves around you!”
    â€œThen you and I aren’t orbiting in the same solar system. She has been avoiding me for six months. There was a time when I cringed every time she called me. Now if my phone rang and it was her, I’d probably lose consciousness. Look, I tried, Max, and it didn’t work. After our little incident at Marie Callendar’s, she’s not going to make another lunch date with me for a long time.”
    â€œShe said you were having lunch next week.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œShe told me she was meeting you again for lunch next week. She said you discussed it.”
    â€œWhere was I? I’m telling you, the booze is getting to her.”
    â€œIt’s not booze.”
    â€œThen how do you account for—”
    â€œLast night, I finally talked her into letting me come over and cook dinner for her. I fixed everything she likes. Polenta with gorgonzola, my stracotto al