Weep for Me by John D. MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page B

castle and the serfs were huddled around, staring in, looking mean and hungry and tired of it all. Now, suppose those serfs could really believe that with a couple of breaks here and there, they could work their way up to be one of the barons. They’d probably be looking in the windows, grinning, snickering, nudging each other, just like the people around us in the dark movie house.
    “This stinks,” I said, too loud.
    A woman in front of us turned around and said, “Shush, you!”
    Jo Anne felt me go tense and she squeezed my hand. I settled back. She whispered, “We can leave if you want to.”
    “Maybe it will get better.”
    But from then on she didn’t seem to enjoy it so much. A couple of times I glanced at her and saw that she was watching me. It was too dark to read her expression.
    On the slow walk back to her house, she said. “It wasn’t too bad, was it?”
    “No. Leave us leap into our Hispano Suiza and swim at the Riviera under the Mediterranean moonlight. With a picnic lunch of caviar and crumpets. Don’t soil yourlittle white hands, darling. Let the servants make up the lunch.”
    She took my arm, gave me a little tug. “Kyle! You kind of scare me when you talk like that. I don’t understand you.”
    “I guess I just don’t like movies like that any more, honey. They’re not real.”
    “Well, goodness! Of course they aren’t! Everybody knows that.”
    “They know it before they go and after they come out. But while they’re in there, they have to believe it’s real. That’s why they go. If their life was any good, they wouldn’t have to go. They wouldn’t have to pretend.”
    “Do you think our life is no good, Kyle?”
    “You’re putting words in my mouth. Our life is fine.”
    “You don’t made it sound fine. You make it sound … kind of little and unimportant. Are you in some kind of trouble at the bank, Kyle?”
    “Of course not,” I said angrily.
    “Oh, Kyle! Let’s not quarrel. It was a dreadful week end.”
    “I know it was. That’s why I came around tonight, honey. I thought maybe I could fix it up. I’m not doing so good, I guess.”
    She hugged my arm close to her. “Everything will be all right. Really it will.”
    And she was my good girl again. Girl I’d taken to dances, to movies. Girl of the sunny blue eyes, and much joy, and sweetness on her lips. I had it back now, and I was going to hold onto it. I had to hold onto it. Because it made that bronze grille bearable, made the brown-bag lunches taste good, made me want the marriage.
    So on the porch, on the dark porch, while the TV chattered and yelped in the darkened living room, I put my hands on her waist, knowing as I did it that I was thinking of my hands on Emily’s waist. Jo Anne was not the same. There was a tiny roll of fat just above the sturdy line of the hips. There was no heat to sear my palms. I pulled her so hard against me that she gave a tiny gasp of surprise before I began to hurt her mouthwith my lips. I released her suddenly. She put the back of her hand to her lips as she took an uncertain backward step. “Well!” she said.
    “What’s so surprising?” I asked harshly. “Haven’t we got old enough to give up kid-style kissing?”
    “I guess … it just wasn’t like you. You act strange, Kyle.”
    “Jo Anne. Listen to me. Why don’t we do this? Buy the car now. Go out of town. Get married. Don’t tell anybody. We can go through a ceremony again in July or August, whichever it’s going to be. Between the two marriages, you can come to my place, or we can go to motels, or something.”
    “That sounds … sort of shabby, Kyle. Sneaky.”
    “Maybe it’s important that we do it. More important than you know, Jo Anne.”
    “What are you trying to tell me, Kyle?”
    “That I … I don’t know what I’m trying to tell you.”
    “Poor dear. Being a nervous bridegroom. Wanting to get it over. That’s what the trouble is.”
    “Will you do it?”
    “No, Kyle. I