The Look of Love. Jill Egizii. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jill Egizii
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Сказки
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781612540030
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of all the other patrons, most of whom were around her father’s age. Their expensive suits and custom tailored shirts. She knew how to spot quality of course, thanks to her father’s impeccable taste.

      But they noticed her…oh yes…they all noticed her in her green dress that brought out the color of her eyes and highlighted her natural auburn hair that she wore piled high on her head. The hair, along with the stilettos, were adopted to make her look taller, so she wouldn’t be mistaken for a high-school girl.

      Anna remembers her first sight of Erik holding court at the far end of the bar. The apparent gathering place of the ‘young bucks,’ considering not one of them looked over thirty. Half a dozen men gathered around to be regaled by the tall dark-haired hero of the bunch. Anna couldn’t tell what he was saying but she could see the interest with which the company was listening, hanging on his every word. Anna thought they must be strategizing or discussing politics to be that intent. At the end of his monologue the onlookers let loose with sincere chuckles and a few guffaws.

      The most handsome and flashiest, the one who’d been telling the story, Erik finally turned around to take in the effect his compelling tale had on the rest of the patrons. Anna almost giggled when he gave an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement to her brother.

      “Do you know him?” she pressed.

      “Sure…I know him, everyone knows him. That’s Erik Reinhardt. You know those ads for The Enforcer?” he asked. Anna nodded enthralled. “That’s him,” her brother said with a wave of his hand to indicate her entrance into the big leagues. Erik made some space for himself. Then, taking a long look at his chunky metal (and Anna assumed expensive) watch, he realized he had somewhere else to be. Much to Anna’s surprise he paced to the booths behind the bar and extracted a woman who must have been his date—tall, thin, blonde, and obviously drunk. As he escorted her to the door he grazed by Anna saying something she couldn’t hear to her brother. Then he was gone.

      That didn’t stop Anna from watching out the front windows as he loaded the blonde into a dark green Jaguar sedan parked right out front and zipped away. Anna was dazzled by the sight of the man who looked as though he had it all, a modern day Cary Grant. Anna recognized how he had the clothes, the car, the money, the career, the looks, the attitude…everything that indicates power and success. All the things Anna was accustomed to having in her experience, in her life. Teamed up with a star like that Anna could easily imagine being welcomed by the whole town.

      The very next day her brother got an unexpected phone call from the alpha male himself, inviting him to interview at the firm. “I heard you recently graduated with honors from law school and…oh and by the way who was that delightful redhead you were with last night?” That was the beginning of the end for Anna. She shakes her head to set the old memories free.

      Betsy, Drew, and Maggie feel more relaxed, more at ease, more themselves as they pull into the driveway. Knowing Erik won’t be there to reign over the dinner table, or make an unexpected appearance as they sprawl about doing homework (or later as they watch a bit of TV) seems to put them at ease. So it seems to Anna anyway.

      This is what she imagines a real divorce will earn her this time. Get them free from his palpable influence. To Anna Erik has become a thing, an energy, a bad odor, a distinct tang polluting the air whenever and wherever he was present. Her weakness was she felt sorry for him, wanted to show him, felt obligated to prove to him that life could be joyful, that love meant giving. So she gave and forgave, and buffered him from the things she knew set him off. She took on this Herculean task for years, until those years became decades that eventually became a way of life.

      Betsy and Drew, after a bit less prodding and bribing than usual, dutifully spread their books and papers over the kitchen table as Anna pulls out her ingredients. Maggie, the oldest in her senior year, retreats to work in her room where, as she often reminds everyone, she can work in peace and quiet. Maggie claims the chattering of the kids and Anna clattering pots and pans make it impossible for her to study in the kitchen. Anna chalks the attitude up to Maggie’s age.

      She knows Maggie longs to break free, to experience life beyond their tiny country club village. Maggie swore over and over, up and down that she would never settle for such a backward, dingy place for her life’s adventure. Anna quietly applauds her. Does all she can to make it possible for Maggie to break out by slipping university brochures for California and Oregon into her room. Of course, in one of her moods Maggie accuses Anna of wanting her gone because she’s an evil stepmother, which they all knew is a wild exaggeration…Anna raised Maggie and her older brother Greg from ages nine months and two years, respectively, after their mother died of breast cancer.

      Anna sautés cubed bacon, from their own hogs, in garlic oil she infused herself. The scent of the heavy saltiness steeped in garlic draws her back into herself; back into her body, her kitchen, her life. To Anna it’s the scent of home, her home. She skins and debones chicken thighs and breasts adding them in chunky slices to the sauté. As she strips and slices thin disks of fat leeks, Betsy recognizes the wafting scent of her favorite dinner.

      “Ohh Mom, is that what I think it is?”

      “That depends…what do you think it is?” Anna asks in return. Betsy makes a gleeful squeal abandoning her math book to join Anna at the stove.

      “What can I do? I want to help,” Betsy wants to know.

      “Oh, hey Mom can you put in extra mushrooms?” Drew interjects, engrossed in his work.

      “Extra mushrooms? Since when are you a huge mushroom fan?” Anna asks.

      “Oh please Mom.” Drew says with an eye roll. “I’m fourteen now. I’m the one that always liked mushrooms…remember? It’s Betsy who didn’t, that is until she turned twelve and started copying me.” Drew informs his errant Mother. Of course Anna knows this, but she just loves to hear him tell it.

      “Here Bets, do you want to stir in the leeks?” Anna asks. Betsy deftly tips the small cutting board over the heavy pot and slides the pale green circles into the mix. “Look Mom pink and green, just like my bedroom curtains,” Betsy says putting her face in the steam and inhaling deeply. As Anna opens the tall green bottle she gestures to Betsy. Betsy nods taking the bottle carefully from her Mother.

      “OK, but you stir while I pour Mom, I don’t want to add too much. I don’t like mine soupy.” Anna obliges, gently stirring while Betsy slowly fills the pot with the red wine. After adding the extra mushrooms they bring it to a simmer and clap on the lid. Now they have about forty-five minutes to finish schoolwork before Anna needs to make the noodles.

      Together the four of them enjoy Anna’s stripped-down version of traditional coq au vin. Betsy’s toddler name for it, ‘Coco Van,’ somehow stuck. In fact it was the inspiration for Anna’s still secret name for the restaurant; Coco’s Café.

      They while away their evening in the normal way, Anna nagging them in turn to get off the phone while she checks over their assignments. Anna negotiates which shows are Ok and which are not. Eventually they all settle in together to watch a few recorded episodes of their current family favorite—the show about the teenage girl who is given ‘odd jobs’ by God in the form of various normal looking people.

      “Well are you ready?” Anna asks as Betsy runs up to the car window after school.

      Betsy looks confused, “Ready? For what? I just came to tell you that I forgot to tell you that our intramural volleyball game is today…so…sorry Mom but I have to stay. I am our only decent defensive player after all.”

      “Betsy,” Anna chides. “We are supposed to go get your first-grade art portfolio from Grandma’s today…right now. She’s expecting us.”

      “Aww Mom!” replies Betsy. “Can you just go? I mean I’m sorry but I forgot about the game this afternoon. And I need need need those files. The project is due in two days. I’ll only have today and tomorrow to work on it as it is. Please…” Betsy asks. A few