The House On Willow Street by Cathy Kelly Read Free Book Online Page B

afternoon relaxing in her cozy house in Falmouth, lying on the couch watching TV.
    “He’s particularly interested in you. Says you’re mysterious. His words, not mine.”
    Suki had stood up to get the phone: now, she groped for a chair to sit on.
    “You still there?”
    “I’m still here, Eric.”
    “Yeah, well, I told him he’d have to get clearance from you first if he wanted me to talk to you. After all, I was your publisher, the book’s still in print so we do business together.”
    Once, Eric might have said I’m your friend , but not any more. Not that it mattered right now; there was no time to think about old friendships destroyed with someone out there talking about putting her in a biography.
    Or autobiography, perhaps?
    “Is he writing it with Kyle?” she asked hopefully.
    That would be fine. Tricky, but fine. Kyle wouldn’t want to rock any boats, so he’d stick to the official story of their divorce: We were just two very different people who got married too young. We have the greatest affection for each other even after all these years.
    There were plenty of nice photos of their marriage toillustrate a coffee-table book. They’d made a photogenic couple. Suki had moved her wardrobe up a notch, trying to fit in with the waspy Richardson clan—in vain, as it happened. Nobody could have impressed Junior’s mother, Antoinette the Ice Queen.
    “No.” Eric’s mellow voice interrupted her fantasy. “It’s a Redmond Suarez book.”
    Suki nearly dropped the phone but she managed to steady herself. Suarez was the sort of unofficial biographer to make a subject’s blood run cold. His work was always unauthorized—nobody would authorize the things he wrote. He invariably managed to dig out everything , every little secret a person had hoped would remain hidden. If he was trawling through the Richardson family, then they would all be shaking in their shoes. And so was she.
    “Oh God,” she said.
    “Oy vey,” agreed Eric. “Not good news for anyone involved, I take it.”
    “Well, you know . . .” she said helplessly.
    “Yeah, I know. He says he’s researching now and will be writing next year with a view to publication in the fall.”
    “Nearly a year of research,” breathed Suki.
    Imagine what he could find out in a year! Suki hated research. That was one of the obstacles getting in the way of the new book. That and the fact that everything was riding on it.
    “I’ll get my assistant to scan the letter and e-mail it to you,” Eric said. “I won’t be cooperating, but you can bet your bottom dollar that other people will, Suki.”
    “I’m sure,” she said dully. “Thanks for the call. How is . . . ?” Too late, she realized she’d forgotten the name of his wife.
    “Keren,” he said drily. “She’s great. Ciao.”
    Suki winced as she placed the receiver on the cradle. Eric was one of those she’d burned during the Jethro years. Ithad all seemed so much fun at the time: living the high life on the touring scene, never returning phone calls, being too stoned to care about old friends. In turn, the old friends had moved on with their lives.
    It was only after Suki had hung up that she realized he hadn’t asked her how she was or if she was happy. At least she’d made the effort, even if she couldn’t remember his damned wife’s name.
    Her sister, Tess could stay friends forever. Tess had maintained contact with her old classmates from school, she’d go to dinner with them and have civilized conversations about life. Suki wouldn’t recognize any of her old classmates in a police lineup. It was crash and burn with old acquaintances where she was concerned. Always had been.
    Suddenly, she became aware of the sound of clapping. Her introduction was over. It was time to stand up and do her thing, become the Suki who fought the feminist fight, not the Suki who was scared to the pit of her stomach.

    Suki opted out of dinner with the faculty when someone suggested a vegan