Hostages to Fortune Read Free Page A

“It’s good to see you here again, Ben. We’ve missed you.” She was letting him know that she for one did not think it improper for a man who had been through what he had to want to enjoy life once again.
    He thanked her. Said it was good to be back.
    She said, “Actually I may not be coming back anymore myself after this.”
    â€œOh?”
    When she had been served she explained. “An old friend has recently proposed to me, and he’s no fisherman—hates the thought. Besides, he lives out in Oregon. That all makes it sound like I’ve said yes to him, doesn’t it? I haven’t. But neither have I said no. If he asks me again—well, I’m not sure what I’ll say.”
    â€œYou’re here to find out.”
    â€œYes. Yes, I am,” she said, wondering at his perception.
    â€œDo you love him?”
    â€œLove,” she mused. “I’m not sure I know what it’s supposed to feel like the second time around. Different from the first, I guess. I like him a lot. He’s a good man. He says he loves me.”
    He looked around the room, then back at her and said, “This place meant a lot to your Jack.”
    â€œYes,” she said, and with her eyes expressed her gratitude for his understanding.
    He understood that she wanted not to cheat this suitor of hers, not shortchange him. Her whole heart he could not expect, it was not hers anymore to give, but she wanted to make sure she was giving all she had left, not holding back any part of it. In this place that had meant much to her Jack she was hoping to commune with his spirit and either lay it to rest or else live in its thrall.
    Which outcome she foresaw, her next words revealed. “When I lost him I vowed I would never marry again. But as I needn’t tell you, Ben, life goes on.”
    She wanted confirmation of that. Wanted it particularly from him.
    â€œYes,” he said. “Life goes on.”
    â€œAnd as I also needn’t tell you, it helps to have someone to face it with.”
    In that, too, she wanted him to second her.
    He managed somehow to say it helped to have someone to face it with.
    With a sigh that had in it some regret but rather more complacency, she said, “I’ll miss this old place. I was never all that keen on fishing but it was always fun to be here.” She was fairly confident that her Jack’s ghost, when she encountered it somewhere along the stream tomorrow, would let her off the hook, give her the old club sign, “Thumbs Up!” He hoped it did. A woman, he thought, could change her name—more than once. There was a boost toward getting a fresh start in life.
    â€œIt was a wonderful place for the boys when they were growing—Oh, Ben! How thoughtless of me! How could I? I’m so sorry. Oh, I could bite my tongue off!”
    â€œSave it to say ‘I do’ another time. And of the first may you remember what you want to remember and forget what you want to forget.”
    To himself he said, “Do as I say, not as I do.”
    After supper, in the game room, the bridge and backgammon regulars were at it. From the poolroom came the click and clatter of the balls. In the sitting room women knitted, plied their petitpoint needles while sipping coffee and chatting together. Seated at the vise on the table in the corner a flytier had drawn a circle of onlookers. He remembered a fellow club member’s once asking whether Tony and he tied their own flies out of season. That was before their son and godson began supplying them with his flies, but even then their answer had been no. For them there had been no out of season. Their year was a succession of sporting seasons, with closing day for one soon followed by opening day for another: salmon, grouse, ducks, deer.
    He felt obliged to put in an appearance in the bar. Life went on; one paid one’s dues by demonstrating that it did. Here was a good place to do it.