Treasure Box by Orson Scott Card Read Free Book Online Page A

good dinner at a really nice place."
    "I don't even know what you do for a living."
    "I'm between jobs, but I have a little saved up from my last one."
    "If you're serious about a really nice place, there's a French restaurant near Herndon. Some-French-word Chez François. Close to the Potomac. I've never eaten there, but I hear it's good. The kind of place where they scrape the crumbs off your table between courses."
    "Wow," said Quentin. "Is that class or what."
    "Give me your number, I'll call you when I get the reservation."
    "I can take care of that, you know," said Quentin, writing his local number on his business card.
    "But I'm not going to give you
my
number, and then what would you do with the reservation?"
    "Take your grandmother." He handed her the card.
    "I don't have a phone number and I'm not sure which friend I'll crash with when I don't take my flight tomorrow. So I'm not being unfriendly. I
will
call."
    "I've heard that line before."
    "No you haven't," said Mad. "That's the guy's line, so I know you haven't heard it, and I don't think you've even said it."
    "Am I so obviously naïve?"
    She touched his cheek lightly. "I think you're sweet."
    "But not powerful."
    "I told you—power was my dream. You're real."
    She turned and walked away from him.
    "Can't I take you home? Take you wherever you're crashing tonight?"
    But she kept walking as if she hadn't heard him. He took a few steps after her, then thought better of following her, then thought again and followed her anyway, only she had already made her way through the crowd and she wasn't anywhere in the house, top to bottom.
    Of course she wasn't going to call, he knew that. But still, it had been a wonderful half hour there by the ancient unblooming cherry tree. She might not have looked like Lizzy, the way his hallucination did, but she bantered with him in the same easygoing playful way that Lizzy always had. It was the first time he had actually enjoyed the company of a woman as a woman. It was
possible
. That's what this evening meant. There was hope for him to find someone. There really were interesting women out there and there were even some who might find him interesting, not for his money, but for his conversation, his company. He refused to be disappointed that this particular encounter hadn't led anywhere. It was enough that Madeleine Cryer had opened a never-opened door.
    And then the next day, Sunday afternoon, she did call. They had dinner that night. They met for lunch the next day, a picnic by the Great Falls of the Potomac. They broached the delicate subject of money and each confessed to having some. Her fortune was much older, his was much larger, but it wouldn't be a barrier between them. That afternoon he bought them both English racers and the next morning they rode the whole length of the W&OD bike trail from Purcellville to Mount Vernon and at the end, with rubbery legs and covered in sweat, he asked her to marry him and she said yes, as long as he promised never to make her ride a bike that far again.
     

4. Prenuptial Agreement
    Everything seemed to be going so well. Yes, he still had a vague worry in the back of his mind about how this all started—hallucinating a grown-up version of his dead sister—but with Madeleine in his life Quentin was beginning to realize how deeply unhappy he had been all these years. It took such small things, just her smile, her hand resting on his, and he would get this glow inside and he'd find himself wearing a goofy grin and nodding at everything she said and he'd realize: This is pretty good! This is what other people have known about all these years and tried to tell me! This is what kept my parents going even when their daughter died, even when their son became this weird wandering recluse, because they had
this
between them, this secret that you can't guess from outside, you have to be inside it, and then it's all so clear, it transforms the world like getting your first pair of glasses and