Wild Swans Read Free Page B

the door.”
    Callie leered. “I think that’s exactly what we need.”
    “How old do you suspect he is?”
    Cally shrugged. “Too old to be interested in your Althea, darling, so quit worrying.”
    “I’m not worried.” Ruby’s frown deepened. “There’s something rather odd about him don’t you think? And he’s carrying a brown paper bag. You know what he’s got in it. Whiskey. I’ll bet you a week’s wages that he comes in here reeking of Old Crow.”
    “You think the same thing about every man who comes down here. I swear, if Cary Grant were to rent that apartment, you’d throw a fit about it.”
    “Well it’s pretty obvious our boy coming up the driveway ain’t Cary Grant. And Cary wouldn’t be toting his belongings in no carpet bag and grocery sack either. I guarantee that .”
    “Well,” Cally said, ignoring her sister’s comment, “I’m hoping he’s not too old for me. I could do with a nice summer fling.”
    “Don’t you have anything else on your mind besides men?”
    “Nothing that counts. So, what are you going to do once you have Althie married off?”
    “I haven’t given it much thought.”
    “You could join the convent after you finish paying off Althea’s trousseau.”
    “Fat chance.”
    “That fella doesn’t look too bad from a distance.” Cally returned to the subject as she put her elbows on the counter. She sighed, her expression wistful. “Nope, not too bad at all.”
    Ruby shot her a look. “He ain’t nothing special.” She shivered despite the heat. “He’s a bit peculiar if you ask me.”
    “Hush. Now who’s being scandalous?” Cally asked.
    Ruby ignored her sister and stared past the man to gaze at the car still idling in the driveway. The vehicle was nondescript, black with silver chrome on all the proper places, but it seemed odd, sort of out of place, like catching the glimmer of a gold fish swimming amongst catfish. She strained to look through the windshield but something dark was obscuring her view. She shook off a weird notion that there was no driver in the car.
    “Cally, do you notice anything weird about that car?”
    Cally shrugged. “I suppose that it’s a newer model. We don’t get to see all the newer cars unless it’s some rich man driving from Lafayette to Shreveport and happens to cross Barlow or Bayou Beauf on the way.”
    “I suppose so.”
    Cally and Ruby fell silent as they watched the man pass the gas pumps. Small dirt devils swirled around his feet. He wasn’t very tall, and had the beginning of a paunch along with a tinge of gray at his temples. Ruby couldn’t quite see his face because it was partially shaded by a hat. And although he was on the steps now, neither woman was exactly sure as to what he looked like.
    “Good morning, ladies,” he said as he stepped up to the store counter, then, as an afterthought removed his hat.
    He has a very distinctive New England accent, Ruby noted . Maybe he’s from Pennsylvania, or Maryland. She looked at her sister who was staring hard at him.
    “I am renting an apartment at the plantation house,” he said. “I was told I could get the key here.”
    “Yes,” Ruby said, jolting as if awakened from a deep sleep. She turned quickly, feeling flustered. “I have it right here.” She extracted the key from the bottom of the cash register and handed it to him. “Mrs. Bristow has very distinct rules for residing here,” Ruby said, coming to her senses. “I don’t mean to sound uppity but she is very insistent that people who rent her apartments uphold a certain moral standard. Not necessarily church going morality, mind you. I’m talking about the kind of decency everyone should have but rarely does these days.”
    “I understand.”
    “Mrs. Bristow is adamantly apposed to drinking alcohol in these apartments,” Ruby said, her eyes going to the brown paper sack in the gentleman’s hand.
    “I’m a teetotaler.” He smiled as he set the sack on the counter. “My biggest