Nightfall Read Free

she was on the skinny side and had the kind of face they use in fashion magazine ads where they don't want to concentrate too much on the face. It was an interesting face even though there was nothing sensational about it. It was interesting because it showed contentment but no smugness.
      She put her hands on the sides of his head. She rubbed his temples. “Tired?”
      “Just a little.”
      “How about a drink?”
      “I could eat something.”
      “Sandwich?”
      “No meat. Something light. God, but it's hot.”
      “I couldn't get the kids to sleep. They must be swimming in there.”
      “You look cool.”
      “I was in the bathtub an hour,” she said. “Come on in the kitchen. I'll fix you something.”
      In the kitchen he sat down at a small white table and she began preparing a salad. It looked good to her and she added things to it and made enough for two. There was a pitcher of lemonade and she put more ice and sugar and water in it and sat down at the table with him.
      She watched him as he tackled the salad. He looked up and smiled at her. She smiled back.
      She poured some lemonade for him and as he lifted a forkful of lettuce and hard-boiled egg toward his mouth she said, “Didn't you have dinner?”
      “Who can eat in this weather?”
      “I thought we'd get a breeze from the river.”
      “Should have sent you and the kids to the country.”
      “We went through that.”
      “It isn't too late,” he said.
      “Forget about it,” she said. “The hot spell's almost over.”
      “I could kick myself.”
      “We'll go next year.”
      “We said that last summer.”
      “Is it my fault?”
      “No,” he said, “it's mine. I'm sorry, honey, really I am.”
      “You know something?” she said quietly. “You're a very nice guy.”
      “I'm not nice at all. I was thinking of the money.”
      “They want too much these days,” she said. “The prices they ask, they're out of their minds. Out on Long Island you should see what they're asking.”
      “I'm thinking of the country.”
      “You're worried about the kids.”
      “You and the kids.”
      “Oh, stop it,” she said. “You're making enough.”
      “I'm making a fortune. Next week I'm buying a yacht.”
      She added some mayonnaise to her salad, mixed it in, ate for a while, and while concentrating on the food she said, “Anything new?”
      “Still checking.” He sipped some lemonade. “It's a tough one.”
      “Is he still there?”
      “Still there. Tonight I talked to him.”
      “What happened?”
      “I just talked to him. Nothing happened. He came out about eleven. Walked to the park. I followed him. He left the park and I walked up and asked for a match. That's about all.”
      “Didn't he say anything?”
      “Nothing I could use. He's a difficult proposition. If there's anything criminal in that direction, I can't see it.”
      “Now, now—”
      “I mean it, honey. He's got me buffaloed. For two cents I'd walk in and tell Headquarters they're on the wrong track.”
      “Suppose I gave you two cents?”
      “I'd back out,” he said.
      She poured more lemonade into his glass. “I took your brown suit to the cleaner's. And you could use another pair of shoes.”
      “I'll wait till fall.”
      She studied his eyes. She said, “You never buy yourself anything.”
      “I do all right.”
      “You do fine,” she said. She got up and walked toward him. Her fingers moved through his hair. “Someday you'll be important.”
      He smiled up at her. “I'll never be important,” he said. “But I'll always be