The Late Clara Beame Read Free Page B

that day,” Laura recalled bitterly. “I just had to tell Dave to push me higher and higher! I was almost sure — about the baby. And I was delirious with happiness, but just think how terrible it would have been if you and Dave hadn’t been there then! It was a Sunday, remember.”
    “I remember,” her husband said wearily.
    “What if it hadn’t been a Sunday, and you had been in the city!”
    “Let’s not be too dramatic, darling.”
    “You forget,” Laura said quietly. “I was thrown against that tree and knocked unconscious. I could have died. Alone.”
    Henry remembered that hot Sunday in August vividly, and David running back through the trees to the house to telephone for help. He remembered Laura in his arms, with the blood streaming through her fair hair.
    He bent over her now, hugging her to him. “Let’s not go through all that again,” he pleaded. “You promised me you wouldn’t.”
    “Oh darling, I didn’t mean to upset you. I promise never to mention it again. Besides, I’ve got something to tell you.” She hesitated. “I’ve been afraid to, before this.”
    “What?” her husband asked.
    “Now you’re frowning. Please don’t. Well, I’ve talked with my lawyers and executors and I’ve arranged for this house, which you love so much, to be deeded over to you. My Christmas present.”
    Henry stepped back. “No!” he said angrily. “I refuse.
    Do you hear me, Laura? I refuse. I’ve told you before I wouldn’t allow anything like that!”
    “Henry! You really are angry!”
    His face was flushed. “Of course I am! It’s bad enough that you have all that money, but I told you, even before we were married, that you weren’t to give me anything out of the ordinary. I thought I impressed you then.”
    Laura put her hand on his arm placatingly. “Henry, I didn’t mean — it’s just that you’ve always loved the house. When I die you’ll have it anyway!”
    “Oh Laura, for heaven’s sake! I’m ten years older than you are. Women always outlive men. Look at the insurance company statistics.”
    “But you knew about my will,” she said, bewildered.
    “A will is a different thing,” he told her, exasperated. “I have a will too, for what it’s worth. But I don’t want the deed to this house. If you refuse to understand, I can’t make you. But you must call those lawyers of yours tomorrow.”
    “Very well,” she agreed reluctantly. “If you feel that way about it.”
    “What a little idiot you are,” her husband told her as he kissed her.
    The telephone rang on the table in the hall. Henry straightened up. “Who would be calling at ten o’clock at night?” he asked, as he went to answer it. Laura smiled as she listened to his strong voice speaking.
    “It wasn’t Alice telling us she and Dave can’t come after all?” she asked when he returned.
    “No. It was a new client, from Baltimore. John Carr. He wants to buy into an advertising concern. Rogers and Belton. I saw him last week and he left the partnership papers with me to go over and change, if necessary. I didn’t think there’d be any hurry about it, but now he’s in a big sweat. So, he’s coming to New York on the twenty-third and we’re to work on the stuff.”
    “At Christmas?” Laura asked wonderingly. “What about his family in Baltimore?”
    “He hasn’t any,” Henry said. “So he forgets holidays. I hope you won’t mind. I’ve invited him up here for Christmas.”
    “A perfect stranger?” Laura was astonished. “At a family Christmas, with Alice and Dave?”
    Henry sighed patiently. “I know. It’s ridiculous. He seemed confused when I reminded him it was Christmas. ‘Oh that,’ he said. His exact words. Then he said we must have everything in order so he can put through the partnership before the New Year. What could I do? I promise you we won’t spend all our time locked up in the study. You don’t really mind, do you?”
    “Not really,” Laura answered, still surprised.