Celebrity Chekhov Read Free

“I’ll take him, and let people say what they like!”
    Dave took the baby and strode rapidly back toward the car.
    Let them say what they like, he thought. I’ll go at once, fall on my knees and say: “Regina!” She is a good sort, she’ll understand. And we’ll bring him up. If it’s a boy we’ll call him Gerard, and if it’s a girl we’ll call her Dorothy. Harry will love a playmate in the house, and it will be another comfort in our old age.
    And he did as he determined. Faint with shame and terror, full of hope and vague rapture, he drove home, walked in the front door, went right to Regina, and set the bundle before her.
    â€œHere!” he said with a sob. “Hear me before you punish. The devil drove me to it.”
    He jumped up without waiting for an answer and ran away as if he had been burned. He was on the side patio where he had first found the baby.
    I’ll stay here outside till she calls me, he thought. I’ll give her time to recover and to think it over.
    He was there still a few minutes later when he saw Steve Martin walking along the edge of the house. Dave tried to ignore him, but Steve Martin waved heartily and opened the side door to the patio.
    â€œHey there,” Steve Martin said. “I have the craziest story. Kenny, this guy who does your tree trimming, does some for me too. He was over at my place right before dinner. All of a sudden he started screaming. I thought he had cut himself. But he said that his baby was with him this afternoon and that he had left it here. It totally did him in. He was in no shape to come back over, couldn’t even drive, so I said I’d do it. I’ve been calling you.”
    â€œWhat? What are you saying?” said Dave.
    â€œI know,” Steve Martin said. “I thought Kenny was gay too. Turns out that he got a girl from your house staff pregnant. I forget her name. Anyway, that’s why he got his head all turned around and left the baby here.”
    Glancing at Dave’s eyes, which were glaring at him with anger and astonishment, Steve Martin cleared his throat guiltily and went on: “Gee, maybe Kenny didn’t want me to say anything. I know you have a strict policy about staff fraternizing with other staff. But maybe he couldn’t help it.”
    â€œDamn it!” Dave shouted, and he went back into the house.
    Regina, amazed and wrathful, was sitting as before, her tearstained eyes fixed on the baby.
    â€œThere! there!” Dave muttered with a pale face, twisting his lips into a smile. “It was a joke. It’s not my baby. Of course it’s not. It’s Kenny’s. I was joking. Steve Martin is here to pick it up and take it back to its father.”

Chapter 3
A Lady’s Story
    S OME YEARS AGO J USTIN T IMBERLAKE AND I WERE RIDING toward evening in fall time in Louisiana to get some coffee.
    The weather was magnificent, but on our way back from the coffee shop we heard a peal of thunder, and saw an angry black storm cloud coming straight toward us. The storm cloud was approaching us and we were approaching it.
    Against the background of it my house and church looked white and the tall poplars shone like silver. There was a scent of rain. We should have gone inside but we stayed out in the front yard. My companion was in high spirits. He kept laughing and talking all sorts of nonsense. He said it would be nice if we could suddenly come upon a medieval castle with turreted towers, with moss on it and owls, in which we could take shelter from the rain and in the end be killed by a thunderbolt.
    Then the first wave raced through the front yard, there was a gust of wind, and leaves went round and round in the air. Justin Timberlake laughed and twirled around in the weather.
    â€œIt’s fine!” he cried. “It’s splendid!”
    Infected by his gaiety, I too began laughing at the thought that in a minute I should be drenched to the