Come Fly With Me Read Free

numbly stared at the swirling pattern of dark green and white occasionally interspersed with burgundy spots. How had she never noticed those deep-red spots in there before? They sort of look like blood. Didn't the decorator realize the spots looked like blood? She was startled when Carol came in behind her and kissed her on the back of her head.
    "Did you sleep?" Carol asked as she went to the sink to put on the coffee.
    "Not a wink. But sleeping has never been my strength," she said. "I was afraid to close my eyes."
    Carol nodded sympathetically. "I heard your mother sobbing quietly when I passed her room to take a shower this morning. It's a good thing; she's been too composed ever since we got back from the cemetery."
    "Well, you know her; she's not going to cry in front of strangers."
    "Yes, she's always the lady. And that's why I'm glad you're here."
    "Because she can let loose with me?"
    Carol nodded.
    Allison walked over to the coffee machine after it beeped its readiness. Her hand shook a little as she spooned sugar into her mug. She loved sugar. Why was sugar always the villain? She put her hands around the heat of the mug and drew it to her lips. She tried to clear her mind of the endless rambling thoughts that kept spinning around in her brain. I will lose my mind if I have to stay cooped up in this house all week while everyone comes by with lasagnas and stories . She finished her coffee as she stood there, already too keyed up to sit back down at the counter. She looked out past the backyard onto the still waters of the Hudson River. Look at those boats, so serenely bobbing on the water, she thought. Why couldn't Dad have owned a yacht business? She rinsed the mug and put it down on the counter, the water still clinging to it. I don't care if it will leave water stains on this ugly blood-spotted granite. I don't care at all.
    She turned to leave the room and saw her aunt looking at her carefully. "I'm not going to snap, Carol. I'm no china doll," she said.
    "I know, but it would be okay."
    "What would be okay?"
    "If you allowed yourself to be...fragile."
    "I can't. Don't you know? I'm the strong one."
    *****
    After her long walk around Rockland Lake later that evening, Allison came back into a house filled with sympathetic visitors. She quickly took her place next to her mother on that cursed low chair.
    Her mother leaned over to whisper in her ear, "All the work people came by, you just missed them: Natalya, Paul Franklin, the new guy, Alexander."
    "Who's that?"
    "Shh, we'll speak later," she said as they turned their attention to a young man who sat down in front of them.
    "You don't know me," he began, "but I felt I needed to come by to pay my respects. I owe a lot to your father—my whole career actually."
    "My father? You're talking about Daniel Ross?" Allison asked and turned in irritation as Jeremy poked her from the side. "Nice of you to show up Jeremy," she whispered.
    "I could say the same about you," he said. "I could only switch out of two shifts on such short notice."
    "I know, so inconsiderate of Dad not to give us advanced warning of his sudden death."
    "Allison, Jeremy, Mr. Prescott here was telling me a fascinating story about your father you might want to hear," their mother chided gently.
    Allison smoothed her expression and gave her attention to Mr. Prescott. Her mother was taking this Shiva thing way too seriously.
    "I would see your father every morning at his early run in the park. Finally, one time, I got up enough courage to ask him his advice on a business matter."
    He shook his head as he continued, "'Son you're not cut out for business,' he said to me. 'I've seen you in this park for months now, making cautious eye contact with me waiting for the right moment to approach me. Being successful in business is about creating those opportunities. You have the head for it, not the balls—go teach somewhere.'"
    He smiled as he continued, "I've been teaching business management at Columbia