Wives and Lovers Read Free

your way to drive the girl as far as the highway. I feel a certain obliga­tion to her because she’s a stranger in town.”
    â€œWell, so do I, only I wanted to stay and help you cast the inlay. I’ll pour it up for you.”
    â€œI can do it alone. Or you can come back later, if you insist.”
    â€œI’ll come back.”
    â€œThank you, Hazel.”
    He sounded so deeply grateful that she wasn’t sure what he was thanking her for; it couldn’t be for anything so trivial as offering to help him with the inlay, or driving Ruby over to the highway.
    On the way to Mrs. Freeman’s, the girl sat quiet and motionless except when Hazel’s old Chevy hit a bump or turned a fast corner, or when Hazel asked a direct ques­tion: “What made you decide to come to Channel City?”
    â€œI wanted to get away from home.”
    â€œThis is a tough place to make a living.”
    â€œI have a job.”
    â€œYou’d do better down south. Some of the big airplane factories—”
    â€œI like it here.”
    â€œThere’s not much chance of promotion being a waitress at the Beachcomber.”
    â€œMr. Anderson says I can work up to cashier or hostess if I try.”
    â€œAnd after that?”
    Ruby frowned and then rubbed away the frown lines with the tip of her forefinger. “After that I might get married.”
    â€œHave you a boyfriend back home?”
    â€œLoads of them, but they’re all silly and immature.”
    â€œHow old are you, Ruby?”
    â€œOld enough.”
    Hazel wanted to laugh—the things the girl said were funny, but the way she said them was not. There was an air of stubborn earnestness about her, as if she had in the back of her mind a single and solemn purpose that ob­literated all others.
    Hazel stopped the car in front of 1906, a two-storied frame house with a sign nailed to one of the porch pillars: “Mrs. Freeman’s Tourist Home, Ladies Only, Reason­able Rates, Ocean View.” The house, like the scrawny shrubs planted around it and the parched lawn in front of it, bore the marks of the drought years.
    â€œIt’s not much to look at from the outside, but it’s clean inside. Mrs. Freeman is a very clean woman,” Hazel added quite severely, as if Ruby had accused Mrs. Freeman of being a very dirty one.
    Ruby opened the car door. “Thank you for the ride.”
    â€œThat’s all right.”
    â€œI didn’t want to admit it but I was awful tired. You just about saved my life.”
    â€œIt was Dr. Foster’s idea.”
    â€œIt was? Heavens, I didn’t think he’d even remember me, honestly.”
    But the word, honestly, was contradicted by the coy and artificial tone of her voice. She’s lying, Hazel thought. She expected to be remembered, and wanted to be. I wonder what her game is.
    Ruby put her suitcase on the ground and started to close the car door.
    â€œLeave it open,” Hazel said. “It’s cooler.”
    â€œBut you can’t drive with it open.”
    â€œI thought if you wouldn’t be too long I’d wait here for you and drop you off at work on my way back to the office.”
    The girl looked wary. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
    â€œYou didn’t ask me. I offered.”
    â€œBut why? Did Dr. Foster—?”
    â€œNo. This is my own idea.”
    â€œThank you.” She stood in the blazing sun, stroking the red fox. “You’ve changed my day, Miss Philip.”
    â€œHave I?”
    â€œIt started out very bad, worse than I would ever tell anyone. But now it’s changed. You’ve brought me luck. I feel, I honestly feel lucky .”
    â€œI’m glad you do,” Hazel said. She wasn’t certain what luck meant to Ruby or how the girl would use it now that it had come her way.
    The front door opened and Mrs. Freeman came out on the porch, a tall, stout, middle-aged woman in a