Loe raamatut: «Father Of The Brood»

One

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done in my life. I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”

Ike Guthrie gazed at his sister’s reflection in the cracked, spotty mirror and frowned. Nora Guthrie stood behind him, reaching over his shoulders to straighten his black bow tie. Behind her, a chorus of characters and a cacophony of voices split a haze of white cigarette and cigar smoke. Nora gave his tie one final tug, a gesture that nearly cut off his breath. He frowned again.

“Why is it, big sister,” he grumbled through gritted teeth as he loosened the knot that had nearly strangled him, “that you’ve always been able to talk me into doing things I don’t want to do?”

She brushed her palms down the smooth, satiny lapels of his tuxedo and smiled with much satisfaction. “It’s a talent I inherited from Mom. There. You look fabulous. You’re going to bring top dollar tonight. If you don’t win the grand prize, there’s no justice in the world.”

Ike eyed her warily. Like he, Nora was well above average in height, but her five-foot-ten still only brought her to his chin. Like his, her white-blond hair was fine and straight, but where hers was wound into a sleek French twist, his was razor-cut short and stylish. Their blue eyes, too, were a perfect match, right down to the overly long lashes. He glanced at their formal attire and frowned yet again. He looked like a fool in this monkey suit. God almighty, how had he let Nora talk him into this?

“Top dollar?” he repeated, turning to face her fully. “You talk like I’m some prime cut side of beef.”

Nora brushed a speck of lint from his shoulder. “Tonight, dear brother, you are. And all we on the board of St. Bernadette’s Children’s Hospital care about is how much you bring per pound.”

He opened his mouth to reiterate his reservations about this whole affair, but a loud commotion beyond a curtain on the other side of the room halted his objection. All the other men present in the room also paused to listen, each of them wearing an expression of undisguised panic. As if drawn by an invisible thread, Ike moved to stand next to the curtain, lifting his hand to pull it slightly to the side so that he could look past it.

Beyond was a stage surrounded by hundreds of women, each clutching a fistful of dollars. At the moment, those women seemed to be uncommonly pleased by whatever unfortunate man was up for grabs, because they hooted and whistled and cheered as if the home team had just come in for another unchallenged touchdown.

“Two thousand dollars!” Ike heard the auctioneer shout out in delight. Her voice was feminine, loud and rabid. “Going, going, gone! Well, ladies, that’s the highest bid we’ve received so far tonight. Looks like Dr. Gillette might just take home the grand prize.”

“Phooey,” Nora muttered beside his ear. “They haven’t gotten an eyeful of Isaac Guthrie, Philadelphia’s most prominent architect.”

Ike shook his head as more wolf whistles erupted from outside. “Something tells me they’re not going to care too much about what I do for a living,” he said softly.

Nora made a face at him. “I know that. But you’ve got a great tush, Ike. I’m telling you, your choice loins are going to bring in a fortune.”

Dr. Gillette came through the curtain then, dabbing a handkerchief at a forehead that was glistening with perspiration. “They’re animals,” he gasped. “Absolute animals. I don’t even know who bought me. Two women in the front row nearly came to blows.”

Nora patted his back comfortingly as he passed. “Don’t worry, Dr. Gillette. I’m sure whoever purchased you is a perfectly nice woman.” She lowered her voice as she added to Ike, “It was probably Edith Hathaway. She said she was determined to buy a doctor for her daughter, Pamela, no matter what the cost. And hey, if you ask me, a cardiologist for two thousand bucks is a steal.”

“Our next bachelor up for bids” came the auctioneer’s voice from the other side of the curtain, “is Mr. Isaac Guthrie, one of Philadelphia’s most prominent architects and most desirable men. I’m sure you’ve all admired the new Bidwell Corporate Center downtown. Well, Mr. Guthrie designed it. In addition to his architectural acumen, Isaac enjoys horseback riding, the poetry of Lord Byron and moonlit walks along the beach…”

“No, I don’t,” Ike whispered to his sister. “I’ve never ridden a horse in my life, and I hate poetry. Where’s she getting all that stuff?”

“Shh,” Nora quieted him. “There’s more. I wrote it myself.”

“You wrote it? But, I gave them a different—”

“Shh.”

His sister silently mouthed the rest of his introduction as the auctioneer offered it. “He’s a Scorpio, thirty-six years old, a gourmet chef and excellent tennis player, who sees his dream woman as someone who’s smart, sensitive and has a great sense of humor….”

Ike expelled a sound of disgust. “That’s supposed to read ‘someone who’s small, sexy, and has a great set of hooters.’ I thought it might keep anyone from buying me.”

“I know, you jerk. That’s why I changed it.”

He sighed. “Just wait, Nora. Someday, somehow, I’ll get even.”

“Shh.”

The auctioneer continued. “And the date Mr. Guthrie is offering is an overnight weekend extravaganza!”

More catcalls and whistling indicated the crowd was very enthusiastic about the announcement, not to mention digging deeply into their pocketbooks.

“‘Weekend extravaganza?’” Ike repeated incredulously. “I told them it was going to be dinner and a show. Where’s this all-night stuff coming fr… ?”

He looked at his sister. Nora was smiling. “I told you you’re going to bring top dollar.” She rolled her eyes at his expression. “Oh, quit pouting. I’ve taken care of all the arrangements for you. All you have to do is show up.” Her smile became devilish. “Hey, it’s not like you can’t afford it, Mr. Moneybags. And it’s for charity, after all, Ike. Just remember that some deserving children are going to get the medical treatment they wouldn’t get otherwise because of you. Thousands of dollars worth of medical treatment if I have anything to say about it.”

“Obviously, I don’t have anything to say about it, do I?”

Nora shook her head.

“Even though it’s my choice loins that are on the block?”

“Shh. You might just be bought by the woman of your dreams.”

“I doubt that.” He sighed, resigned to his fate. “Oh, well. I guess I should be happy that you at least got the part about my being a Scorpio right.”

The auctioneer had by now finished describing the overnight excursion to Cape May, New Jersey—her tone of voice carrying just the right amount of dubiety when she mentioned the separate rooms at the Hanson House Bed and Breakfast—and was lingering over the catered seafood brunch on the beach. Ike was shaking his head in wonder at his sister’s imagination and almost missed his cue. Then Nora shoved him hard from behind and he had no choice but to stumble out onstage.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done in my life. I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”

Annie Malone stared at her older sister, wondering how on earth Sophie always managed to get her to do things she normally wouldn’t even dream of doing. A bachelor auction. Honestly. Even if it was for charity, Annie had a million other things she should be doing tonight.

“Shh,” Sophie told her, glancing down at her program. “Look, this guy is perfect for you. He loves horses and Byron, and he knows how to cook.” She threw her sister a look of censure. “And seeing as how your idea of boiling water is putting it in the oven and setting the temperature at two-hundred-and-twelve degrees, this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”

“I don’t want a relationship,” Annie told her petulantly, “beautiful or otherwise. Mark was—”

“I know,” Sophie cut her off. “Mark Malone was the man of your dreams, the heart of your heart, and you’ll never find another love like him again. But Mark’s been dead for five years, Annie. It’s time to get on with your life.”

Annie flinched at her sister’s matter-of-fact mention of her dead husband. Yes, Mark had been gone for a long time now. But she couldn’t possibly forget about him as quickly as Sophie evidently had. Nevertheless, she countered, “I have gotten on with my life. Quite nicely, in fact. I don’t want or need a man in it.”

“Yes, you do,” Sophie assured her with another quick scan over the new bachelor’s vital statistics. “And I’m going to buy you one. It’s the whole reason I insisted you come with me tonight. It’s the only reason I came myself.”

“I thought it was because you think St. Bernadette’s Children’s Hospital is a deserving charity.”

Sophie waved her hand at her as if Annie had just made a quaint little joke. “Silly. Come on, get an eyeful of this guy. He’s exactly the kind of man you need. You want him and you know it. And I think you should have him.”

Before Annie could say a word in protest, Sophie lifted her hand at the auctioneer’s request for three hundred dollars. She lifted it again when the bidding went to five hundred. And again when it went to seven hundred. And then to one thousand. And two thousand. Annie didn’t try to stop her sister, simply because she couldn’t believe Sophie was going to go through with it. Then she reminded herself that her sister was everything she wasn’t—assertive, confident and married to lots and lots of money. If Sophie got it into her head that she was going to buy a man for Annie, then she would and could sit here and bid all night.

When Sophie started to raise her hand in agreement to a bid of three thousand dollars, Annie grabbed her wrist in an effort to stop her. But Sophie only raised her other hand instead, and shouted out, “Five thousand dollars!”

“Five thousand!” the auctioneer repeated on a gasp. “My goodness, Mr. Guthrie, you are greatly desired.” She tittered prettily at her double entendre.

For the first time, Annie took a moment to consider the man her sister seemed determined to buy for her. She glanced up onto the stage to find that the bachelor in question was very tall, very blond, very well groomed, very good-looking, and, as all the other bachelors up for bids had been that evening, doubtless very wealthy. In other words, he was everything she didn’t want in a man. As she opened her mouth to warn Sophie to knock it off right now, Annie noticed that the bachelor onstage was also staring back at her sister without even trying to mask his unmistakably sexual interest in her.

And that was when Annie really got mad.

Okay, she couldn’t fault a man for looking at Sophie like…like…like that, but this guy was about to burn down the building with his incandescent gaze. So what if Sophie’s henna-stained auburn hair and pale green eyes caught the edge of the spotlight as if born to it? So what if her sapphire evening gown was virtually cut down to her navel and nearly every body part sparkled with gems? So what if her bright red smile suggested any number of unearthly delights? So what?

So why couldn’t the man onstage look at Annie that way, too?

The question exploded in her brain before she even knew what hit her, and for the life of her, she could understand none of it. Helplessly, she looked down at her own modest, long-sleeved, black cocktail dress, and at the simple, sandy-colored braid that fell over one shoulder nearly to her breast. Almost unconsciously, she brushed a hand over the pale freckles on her nose and cheeks that had survived her adolescence along with her well-scrubbed, gee-whiz complexion. And although she did have green eyes like Sophie’s, Annie’s were rounder and less remarkable without the added enhancement of shadow.

All in all, she knew she looked like the wholesome, sensitive kind of woman a man would want to talk to about the other women in his life. Other women who could very easily include her own sister. Annie had been through that scenario often enough, after all.

Of course the man onstage would be looking at Sophie, she told herself without an ounce of envy. What man wouldn’t? Who cared if he was ignoring Annie and focusing on her sister as if Sophie were the answer to a prayer? Annie wasn’t interested in him anyway. If it wasn’t for the fact that Sophie was already happily married, she would. wish her sister and the bachelor the best. Unfortunately, Sophie’s five grand wasn’t paying for a man for Sophie. It was paying for a man for Annie. And maybe that was what was really making her angry.

“Sophie, you don’t have to buy me a man,” Annie told her sister in a grim whisper. “I can find one for myself. I mean, I could find one, if I wanted one. Which I don’t.”

“Not like this one, you couldn’t,” Sophie countered. “Not working with the kind of people you work with.”

“Underprivileged children,” Annie reminded her sister, trying to tamp down her irritation. “I work with underprivileged children.”

“Exactly. Which means you couldn’t meet a decent man to save your life. The men you meet are all social workers and family counselors and public servants and the like.”

“In other words, decent men.”

“That’s not the kind of decent I mean and you know it. You don’t need a decent man, Annie. You’ve got all the decency you can handle in that overgrown, do-gooder heart of yours. What you need is an indecent man.” She smiled mischievously. “The more indecent the better.” She nodded toward the bachelor onstage. “Just look at that guy’s nether regions. He’s going to be perfect for you.”

Annie declined her sister’s instructions and looked at the man’s eyes instead. They were cool, distant and still fixed on Sophie. “Even if he likes Byron?” she asked absently.

“Especially if he likes Byron. Byron was pretty indecent himself, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I minored in English, remember?”

Instead of answering, Sophie nodded with satisfaction at the auctioneer’s announcement of “Going…going… gone for five thousand dollars!”

“Come on,” she said as she tugged on Annie’s sleeve. “Let’s go get your man.”

“He’s not my man,” Annie said, remaining seated steadfastly in place. “You bought him. He’s yours.”

Sophie smiled wryly, “And what am I supposed to tell Philip?”

Annie shrugged. “Tell him you’re going to lovely, romantic Cape May for the weekend with one of Philadelphia’s most prominent architects and indecent bachelors.”

Her sister gazed at her mildly. “And then Philip will divorce me. Is that what you want?”

She shrugged again. “You’re the one who bought Mr. Wonderful up there, not me. I’m not going anywhere with him.”

Sophie stared at her sister for a moment through slitted eyes, as if she were carefully considering her options and thoroughly unwilling to let five grand go to waste. Because, naturally, Sophie would consider a charity donation an unnecessary expense. Then Sophie began to smile. A decidedly evil smile that Annie didn’t like one bit.

“So what you’re telling me,” Sophie began, “is that I just paid five thousand dollars for an attractive, successful, intelligent man who is going to take you to spend the night in one of the most beautiful towns in the United States, and that you refuse to go.”

“That’s right,” Annie told her. “I refuse to go.”

“How about if I bribe you?”

Annie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What kind of bribe?”

“How about if I double the amount I just paid for him and donate it to Homestead House? Then would you go?”

Annie stood to meet her sister’s gaze levelly at that. “Ten thousand dollars to Homestead?”

Sophie nodded, her smile growing broader.

“That’s a low blow, Sophie.”

“Yes, I know, but hey, it’s tax deductible, right? Philip wouldn’t care. He’d think it was a sweet gesture for me to make. Besides, it will work, won’t it?”

Annie didn’t have to think twice. Homestead House was a juvenile home that she and her husband had started ten years ago and that she had kept going after his death. She had met Mark Malone in college, where they were both studying social work. Upon graduation, they’d scraped together personal funds, found a few backers, and won a few government grants, and had pooled the money to buy an old, dilapidated house in one of Philadelphia’s less-thandesirable neighborhoods. They’d brought it up to code, and had then turned it into a haven for kids who got lost in the system and had nowhere else to go, no one left to turn to.

Even during the best of times, Annie had to scramble to make ends meet and keep Homestead House open. Ten thousand dollars would buy a lot of the things she needed.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” she agreed. “But only because of Homestead.”

Sophie shook her head in amazement. “Little Annie Malone,” she muttered in the way that Annie had always hated. “Still thinks she can save the world from itself after all these years. Well, let me tell you something, little sister. Something I learned a long time ago. The world’s a brittle, ugly place, and nothing you can do will ever change that. You better get yours while you can and enjoy it, and then watch your back. Because nothing in this life is worth much, but there’s always someone who wants to take it away from you anyhow.”

Annie nodded, not in agreement, but because this was the same philosophy Sophie had been spouting since they were adolescents. “Maybe that’s what you believe,” she said softly, “but I see things a little differently. You’ve got your life, Sophie, and I’ve got mine. As brittle and ugly as you think it is, I find it very rewarding.”

Sophie smiled. “Not as rewarding as the one this guy could give you,” she said. “Just you wait. One night with him, one little taste of the good life he has to offer, and you’ll want more. And the more you see of his way of life, the more you’ll like it. Just you wait, Annie. You’re in for a treat. Once you’ve sipped his wine, you’ll never go back to that crummy tenement you call home again. I guarantee it.”

Sophie turned then to cut her way through the crowd and pay for her purchase, and Annie followed obediently behind. Her sister was wrong about her life and her life-style, Annie knew. But there would be no arguing with Sophie about that tonight. At the moment, all Annie cared about was the ten thousand dollars she’d be depositing into the Homestead account Monday morning. She decided to start her shopping list with athletic equipment and work her way through the alphabet to the zoo trip she’d always wanted to take with her kids but had considered too frivolous. By the end of the week, she thought with a smile, she was going to have some very happy children on her hands.

She would also be packing for a weekend that was certain to wind up being disastrous. Oh, well, she thought. Ten grand was ten grand. She’d walk over fire to get that much money for her kids. How bad could a weekend in Cape May be, even if her companion would more than likely turn out to be a jerk? If nothing else, the fresh ocean breeze would be a welcome change over the stale, stagnant city air she was so used to breathing. And it would be nice to walk along the beach again, moonlit or not.

Fresh air and a view of the ocean, she marveled as she watched Sophie carelessly write out a check for five thousand dollars and hand it to the cashier. Two things that brought pleasure without costing a dime. It was a lesson her sister could stand to learn, and, judging by the high price tag on his offered date, something the bachelor onstage might benefit from, too.

But it wasn’t up to her to teach that lesson, Annie thought. It was only up to her to watch out for her kids. And like a protective female animal stalking the wild, she’d do whatever she had to do to make sure her brood was protected. Above all else, Annie Malone would always make sure her kids came first.

Ike breezed through the curtain and met his sister backstage feeling buoyant, lusty and full of anticipation. “I owe you,” he told Nora as he embraced her fiercely. “I owe you big. Did you get a load of the woman who bought me?”

He felt Nora nod against his shoulder. “Oh, I got a load, all right.”

Ike sighed wistfully. “I can think of no greater pleasure on earth than to be owned by that woman for an entire night.”

“I told you it would all work out,” Nora said when he released her. She twisted her mouth into a wry grin. “St. Bernadette’s gets five thousand dollars, and you get that great set of hooters you wanted. Well, my, my, my. Isn’t the world a lovely place?”

“Oh, Mr. Guthrie.”

Ike turned to find his new owner passing through the curtain behind him as gracefully as she would if borne on wings. While he was onstage, he had been fearful that in good light some of her dazzle would diminish. But he’d been wrong. Good light only made the woman even more radiant. He didn’t so much approach her as he was drawn to her. All he knew was that he couldn’t wait to take her hand in his.

“Hello, Ms…?” he began as he drew nearer.

“I’m Sophia Marchand,” she said as he reached for her hand.

But she stepped away before he could curl his fingers around hers, then thrust another woman forward to take her place—a drab, colorless creature who faded to nearly nothing beside her iridescent sponsor. Ike’s gaze flickered over the newcomer for scarcely a second before returning to the woman who had launched a variety of previously undiscovered fantasies in his brain.

“And this is my sister, Anna,” she told him. “I’ve bought you for her. She’s so looking forward to the weekend you have planned. Enjoy.”

And with that, the woman smiled and turned away, exiting through the curtain as quickly and completely as a magician’s assistant disappears into the black beyond.

A mouse, Ike thought as he gave the other woman another quick once-over. His gorgeous peacock bad bestowed upon him a mouse to take her place.

“Annie,” the mouse said quietly. Her voice was huskier than he would have thought, but he got the feeling she would indeed squeak when she reached the proper decibel. “My name is Annie. Annie Malone.”

She extended a hand toward him and smiled, a smile that was pleasant and harmless and rather pretty in a wholesome kind of way. In spite of her smile, however, Ike somehow got the impression that she was no more pleased by this turn of events than he was.

“Ike Guthrie.” he replied automatically, taking her hand in his.

Her hand was small, a bit rough, and in no way decorated. The woman who had bought him had been wearing rings on nearly every finger, and he’d already begun to indulge in all kinds of salacious imagery about her long, red nails. Annie’s hands didn’t evoke sensual pleasure. They evoked hard work. And her eyes didn’t promise untold realms of erotic discovery. They suggested about as much sexual expertise as an ingenue. Ike’s gaze skittered lower, and he sighed again. And great hooters, he noted with much disappointment, were simply out of the question.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Malone,” he said as be met her gaze once again.

Too late, he realized she understood completely where his own eyes had been lingering. But instead of blushing and turning away, as an ingenue would have, she had arched one eyebrow and squeezed his hand hard in what he concluded was an unspoken threat.

“Please, call me Annie,” she said, sounding surprisingly hardy in comparison to her slight build. “After all, we will be spending the night together.” The eyebrow fell, but one corner of her mouth lifted in a sardonic grin.

Oh, goody, Ike thought. A weekend with Raggedy Ann’s evil twin, Craggedy Annie. He hadn’t noticed at first that big chip on Annie Malone’s shoulder, and he didn’t know what caused it to sit there so resolutely. But now he could see it clear as day. She might look sweet and innocent—hell, she might look like a kid just freed from college—but there was an angry energy barely coiled within her that was just about to blow. Hastily, Ike dropped her hand before she could drag him down with her, and shoved his own hands deep into his pockets.

Oh, well, he thought further as he noted the sprinkling of pale freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. Maybe some sun would give her a little more color. And the sea breeze would be good for her. If it didn’t blow her right into the ocean first.