When the Dark Man Calls by Stuart M. Kaminsky

Author:Stuart M. Kaminsky [Kaminsky, Stuart M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781784085919
Publisher: Head of Zeus Ltd
Published: 2012-12-14T20:36:00+00:00

TEN

THE CENTER WAS CLOSED on Wednesday, a Jewish holiday—Jean couldn’t remember which one. She got up early anyway, made herself and Angie breakfast, which consisted of French toast with powdered sugar and syrup and a large glass each of grape juice.

“You’ve got something on your mind, Angelina,” Jean said as the girl silently finished her juice and remembered to wipe away the purple stain on her upper lip. “It’s too quiet around here this morning.”

“Can I stay home today?” Angie said. “There’s not much happening at school, and I could help you pack.”

Jean considered it seriously for a few seconds, and then shook her head.

“No, with moving and going to a new school and my new job I think you’re going to miss enough school in the coming months. Besides, that isn’t what was on your mind.”

“How do you know?” Angie pouted.

“I’m a psychologist. I studied for years. I watch people all the time. I’m supposed to draw them out, help them, remember?”

“I think,” Angie said after a deep breath, “that Daddy is going to get married again.”

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. It had been two years, more than two years, and she had expected it in a way. In another way, she had held onto that germ of the idea that they might try it again, though she knew it wouldn’t work.

“Anyone I know?” Jean asked casually.

“No, her name’s Phyllis Yomo or Yogurt or something like that. I heard him talking to her Sunday,” Angie said softly. “You want to know more?”

“Not today,” Jean said.

Angie went on anyway. “She was nervous about meeting me, Dad said. That’s what gave me the idea it was serious you know.”

“And what do you think about it?” Jean said, knowing she was sounding as if she were in her office guiding a client.

Angie shrugged.

“I don’t like it. It doesn’t seem right. You know?”

“Just try to be nice to her when you meet,” Jean said gently.

“You mean not the way I am to Roger. How do you feel about it?”

Jean’s mind was full of feelings about many things. This was the week of chaos. Maybe Freud would have seen it coming, but she hadn’t. How did she feel?

“Jealous,” she admitted. “Not of Phyllis Yogurt and your father, but of you and me. If they get married, you’ll spend a lot of time with them, hopefully get to like her. It’s what I’d want, but I can’t help feeling jealous. Honest enough answer?”

Angie nodded and showed her braces in a pained smile.

“Are you thinking of marrying Roger?” she asked, getting to the other thing on her mind.

“No way,” she laughed. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t be seeing him a great deal, or that I’ll never get married. It’s not unheard of, marriage. You might even want to consider it at some distant point in the future. Now get going so I don’t have to write your teacher a note.”

At ten on the dot Roger called, told her about further details he was working on in the contract with Alexian, and volunteered to come over and help her pack.

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