Precious Moments by Suzanne Roberts

Author:Suzanne Roberts [Unknown]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

SEVEN

She was not sleeping well at all. Her life had resumed a normal facade; she was always in the kitchen moments before David, making coffee, teasing him, talking about his book, being cheerful and, she hoped, sounding very sane and sensible and happy.

But he wasn’t fooled. Why had she even for a moment thought that she could fool David? He knew her, and in a way, she knew and understood him as he did her. So it was only a question of time before he faced her with the truth: she was not happy.

When David would come into the kitchen and have his breakfast, he said very little. He ate, but not with the heartiness he’d once had, and when it was time to begin work, he typed with a fury, sitting across the room from her, banging away on his typewriter.

“It’s not very good, is it?” he asked her one evening. He got up from his desk, looking rather thin and weary. “Something seems to have gone wrong.”

“David—”

He went to the window; his wide, rather bony shoulders seemed slumped. “I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. You’ve become my severest—and best—critic.” He looked hard at her. “Well, Jamie, I’m right, am I not? My novel has become a burden to me. It’s going along, but the magic isn’t there anymore. The truth is, my dear, I’m spending all my energy worrying over you and what’s to become of you.” He seemed to hesitate. “What if he dies on that mountain? What will you do then?”

“I don’t think about that.” She folded her hands, there at her desk. She’d slept badly, gotten only four hours’ rest and probably only minutes of actual sleep, and now, at the beginning of a long day, she already felt tired and edgy.

“Do you realize that every hostess in Aspen is trying to get in touch with you?”

“No,” Jamie said, surprised, “I didn’t know that. There’ve been no calls or messages—”

“I’m afraid there have,” he said unabashedly. “I simply didn’t give them to you. In my opinion, you’re going to many too many social disgraces right now. If I start telling you all the people who want you to drop by and say hello—and bring Thorne, naturally—I’d never get my book typed. You’d spend all your time being the belle of the Beautiful People. Their pet, their darling for this season. They love finding a pet, you know. Last year it was an artist, the year before that a clever fellow who painted fake masterpieces and sold them at outrageous prices. He cheated them but they adored him anyway. They’re after you, Jamie, like hunters after the hunted. And that is why I can’t stop worrying.”

“I’d like very much for you to stop worrying about me. I know you don’t approve of my—friendship with Thorne and I’m sorry about that.” She decided to go ahead and say it: “Please don’t ask me not to see him anymore, because I’ve no intention of listening if you do.

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