The Edge of Doom by Amanda Cross Read Free Book Online

or entertain much—and we’ll go on from there. One never knows what tomorrow will hold. As you can see, I conclude with clichés; it seems the soundest way to part this first time. I’ve just forgotten to ask one thing, which was how you met?”
    “At a wedding, properly enough. I was the best man of the groom; we’d been at college together. There was dancing, of course. We danced. I saw her across the crowded room, just as the song says.”
    “As I said, we must part now in the midst of clichés.”
    And so, with plans to meet soon again, they went their separate ways.

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
    The wide and universal theatre

Presents more woeful pageants than the scene

Wherein we play in.
    A few days later, Kate and Reed had dinner with Jay. As though by mutual agreement, although Kate and Reed had made no plans about their dinner conversation, they spoke of general matters—politics, food, architecture, the academic life, the law. The whole encounter went very pleasantly. Kate enjoyed leaving most of the conversation to the two men; it suited her, upon occasion, to play the quiet, unassertive woman, pleased to be in the company of two such intelligent and attractive men. She glanced from one to the other, smiling and nodding as, in courtesy, they turned to her. Toward the end of the meal, as they lingered over coffee, Kate was surprised by the fleeting impression that Reed was asking more, probing for more than the answers to the subjects under discussion. She knew him well enough to sense this, but then dismissed it as a fancy; it was certainly far from obvious. After all, one did not expect to meet one’s father for the first time in one’s fifties; it was only natural that everything should appear slightly askew. As they prepared to go their separate ways, they agreed to meet again shortly, and their parting was gracious, with Reed quite his usual self, courteous as ever. Kate decided she had been imagining things.
    The next evening, however, she was forced to revert to her original impression. She and Reed were in their living room, having their usual predinner drink, when Reed, at a pause in the conversation about the the events of the day in politics and in their own lives, suddenly said:
    “I love you, Kate.”
    The statement seemed unconnected with anything that had preceded it, and odd besides; Reed was not given to declarations of devotion. Kate stared at him.
    “What?” she said.
    “I love you. I just thought I would mention it.”
    “Reed, are you having an affair?”
    “It’s a great world we live in,” Reed said, “where if a man tells his wife he loves her, she immediately assumes he’s having an affair.”
    “He usually is. Though more usually, he tells her that on the telephone on his way to visit the other woman.”
    “I never knew you were so cheaply cynical, Kate.”
    “I never knew you went in for sudden assurances of marital love. One does rather take these things for granted, which is perhaps regrettable, but I can’t help feeling there was a purpose in those words. All three of them.”
    “Clever you. There was a purpose, but you mistake its origins. I meant to speak of your father, and I wanted you to know I did so out of my love for you. I’m sure I could have put it better.”
    “What about my father? Since we now know him, might we call him Jay? It seems more suitable.”
    “Jay then.”
    “What about him?”
    “You do realize, dear Kate, that we know nothing whatever about him, except that DNA has proved him to be your father. We were so intrigued with the demonstration of that fact, that we neglected to ask any other questions.”
    “I asked quite a few during our walk in the park, and very pointed ones at that.”
    “Yes, I know. But they were, were they not, questions about your mother, how they met, why they parted, that sort of thing? I don’t doubt that he loved your mother, or at least fathered a child with her. What else do we know for certain?”
    “He’s