The Hostage Bride Read Free

replied with dry humor, and turned to the column of figures that needed tabulating.
    “You work too much with facts and figures. Life isn’t a bunch of statistics. It’s feelings and emotions. You need reprogramming.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” she promised without looking up from her work.
    When he’d left, Tamara let her fingers pause on the keys of the adding machine to stare at the door he had closed. Was she too realistic? She had to be. Life had to be faced squarely. No one was going to come along and miraculously sweep her problems away. It wasn’t a rose-colored world she lived in, but she had acquired the strength to carry her burden and didn’t object to the load. Eddie’s line of thinking led to self-pity. Nothing would be solved by that.
    However, it was true that she regretted the absence of a real friend. Over these last few years, the friendships she’d shared had withered away. It was understandable. A person had to devote time to friendships to keep them flourishingand growing, but she hadn’t been permitted that time. And the giving couldn’t be all on one side. She had accepted that fact without protest.
    Her gaze returned to the column of figures. Just for a second, her blood ran cold with fear at the thought of the impending merger. Tamara quelled the sensation of rising panic. There would be a rational solution. Nothing was ever as hopeless as it seemed. What was the worst that could happen?—she might lose her job. With her qualifications, she could easily obtain another position as a bookkeeper. To be fired was the worst that could happen, Tamara kept insisting to herself. Harold Stein would intervene in her behalf if anything worse was threatened.
    A glance at her watch started her fingers tapping out the numbers on the keys of the adding machine. But it was a quarter past five before she finished, which meant she had missed her bus and had to wait for the next one.
    Impatient to be home, her restless gaze didn’t notice the budding green of the trees on the Kansas City boulevard the bus took. The glinting rays of a lowering sun turned the water spewing from a stone fountain into a golden shower. It was something she saw but didn’t appreciate as she kept glancing at her watch and waiting for her corner to be reached.
    It was a two-block walk from the bus stop to the small, one-story house of stucco with green shutters at the windows. Tulips bobbed their heads as Tamara hurried up the steps to the door. The first blooms of the lilac bush near the house had begun to scent the air with theirfragrance. There was a passing thought that her mother would appreciate a bouquet in her room before Tamara hurried inside the house.
    “I’m sorry I’m late, Sadie,” she apologized the instant she saw the tall, broad-shouldered woman wearing brown slacks and a cardigan enter the living room. “It was after five before I got away from the office—then I missed my bus. I hope I haven’t made you late for anything.”
    “Gracious, no!” The woman dismissed the suggestion with a gruff laugh. “The only thing waiting for me at my apartment is the television set.”
    Tamara lowered her voice to ask, “How’s Mom?”
    A smile softened the angular features of the nurse’s face. “See for yourself.”
    Leaving her purse and jacket on an occasional table, she walked with light, quick steps to the archway Sadie Kent had just come through. Her spirits were lifted by the sight of the thin woman sitting in a cushioned armchair.
    “I don’t need to ask how you feel today, do I?” Her usually composed features became animated as she bent to kiss a pale cheek. “Hello, Mom.”
    “Hello. How was your day?” The words were said slowly and carefully to conceal the faint slur of her speech pattern.
    “Fine,” Tamara lied. “What did you do today?”
    “I watched my soap operas, but I am not going to bore you with their troubles.” A fragment of a smile curved at her mother’s mouth, but her