“You’ll get a good meal at Mavis’s table, Mr. Blair,” Kathryn assured him.
“Won’t you call me Tim?” he asked her. “I call you Miss Kathy.”
“Kathy will do just fine, Mr. . . . Tim. It’s a tradition to address the librarian here as Miss. It probably began with the first librarian, Miss Victoria St. John,” Kathryn explained. “It was, after all, the 1890s. The tradition has remained. The previous librarian was my great-aunt Lucretia, who was known as Miss Lucy to the patrons.” She lifted the door knocker and rapped.
Mavis opened the door smiling. “Ohh, good! You’re both here. Let me see the wine you’ve brought. We’ll drink one bottle before dinner, and one bottle with it.” She looked at the labels. “Well, can you beat that? You’ve both brought the same wine. Windmill Blush from the Duck Walk Vineyard.” Mavis chuckled. “Great minds,” she said. “Jeremy, come and open one of these bottles,” she called to her husband.
Jeremy Peabody taught High School English literature. He was straight out of central casting, with horn-rimmed glasses, tweed jacket, and a pipe clutched between his teeth. He was a quiet man with a dry wit. “Yes, madam, at once,” he said, his gray eyes twinkling at her. “Where would madam have the wine served? At table or elsewhere?”
“Living room, smart guy. We’re going to be civilized today. We’ll sit and talk before dinner. Glasses are on the table, darling.”
“We’re doing gracious?” Jeremy Peabody teased. “I can do gracious.”
“Come in and sit down. Don’t mind the house fool.” Mavis invited her guests. “The fire is just perfect now. First time this autumn I’ve burned a fire.”
“I’ve got a fireplace at my place,” Tim said. “I’ll have to get some wood.”
“Jeremy will take you to where we get it. You’ll want to buy at least two cords for the winter now,” Mavis advised.
Jeremy Peabody had opened one of the bottles of wine. He poured four glasses and passed them around. Then, raising his glass, he said, “Good friends, good times!”
“Well, how are you settling in at the school?” Mavis wanted to know.
“Actually, quite well,” Tim answered. “I’ve got a really great bunch of teachers. I think one or two of them were a bit put out that they weren’t considered for my position, but I think I’ve got it all smoothed over. Gloria Sullivan has been a godsend for me. She gave me a complete update just before school opened, and so I knew who was going to need a little extra care and feeding. And the kids are terrific. I understand I missed out on the Miller twins, however, but I’ll have their little brother in a few more years. They say he’s quite a handful.”
“Rose and Lily Miller are enormously bright girls,” Kathryn said. “They’re social activists.” She chuckled. “Do you all remember the time they released all the animals from the science lab? A couple of guinea pigs, and rabbits, and two white rats, along with some mice. The mice found their way to the lunchroom, and chaos ensued.”
Her audience laughed.
“The poor creatures were completely relieved to be caught and brought back to their cages, where they were fed and petted constantly,” Kathryn concluded.
“They didn’t believe in incarcerating animals,” Mavis explained. “They said it was inhumane.”
“Sorry I missed all the fun,” Tim said with a grin.
“I have them in my ninth-grade English class this year,” Jeremy remarked. “They wanted to know why
Beowulf
wasn’t on the syllabus for the year. I was astounded. Usually I get complaints about having to read so many books.”
“What did you tell them?” Tim wanted to know.
“I told them if they wanted to read
Beowulf
and render me their reports on it I would give them extra credit,” Jeremy replied. “Hell, it’s a pleasure to teach kids who are actually interested and not looking for the CliffsNotes or an old Classic Comics version of the book.”
“Amen to that,” Tim agreed. “When I was assistant head at Kensington I also taught a couple of English lit classes. I discovered the only way to get some of the kids to read the book was to hold an open discussion on the book’s contents. I always knew the kids who didn’t read because they were the ones who didn’t take an active part. You got marked down in my class for that. One kid’s father actually called me out for it. He said the kid was going to work on Wall Street eventually, so what did Shakespeare matter?”
“The Philistines are at the gates,” Mavis said.
Kathryn was unusually quiet as they spoke. She needed to concentrate on Timothy Blair so that when she finally had to get involved in conversation with him, she wouldn’t be thinking of Temur the barbarian lord. But she had to admit that he looked pretty fit beneath those beige slacks and white Irish sweater. He had broad shoulders and a broad chest that eased into a narrow waist. If the top half of him was any indication, the bottom half would certainly match, and Kathryn blushed a little at the thought. She had to get her mind off of his male attributes. She was behaving like a teenager who had never seen a set of genitals. She was a St. John for God’s sakes! With a pompous brother who was about to father another set of twins. Still waters obviously ran deep in the St. John clan, although one would certainly never discuss such things.
“Kathy, come and help me in the kitchen,” Mavis said, standing up. “Dinner in about five minutes, guys.” She left the living room, going into the center hall and back to the kitchen, Kathryn behind her. When the swinging door from the hall swung shut, Mavis turned around and said, “You’ve hardly uttered a word, Kathy.”
“I’m trying to get used to his being civilized and dressed,” came the reply. Kathryn was grinning. “If I can make light of the naked, then maybe I can look him in the eyes and make polite conversation. You know,” she considered. “I’ll bet that if he stripped down right now, he’d look just like my barbarian.”
Mavis giggled. “Okay, if that’s settled, then talk.”
“But he doesn’t talk like my barbarian. I look into that handsome, smooth-shaven face, and I can’t imagine him saying, ‘Spread your legs for me, slave!’ ”
“Oh my God, does he say that?” Mavis actually grew pink cheeked.
“Yep, and even worse,” Kathryn replied.
“Being raised in an all-male household has really affected your libido, sweetie. You have got to separate the two, Kathy. I know you say you don’t want to marry, and he may not want to either. But wouldn’t it be nice to have one male friend you could depend on? And I’ll bet he would like one female friend he knew wasn’t going to have expectations. Oh, at first people will gossip. But when they see it’s just an adult friendship they’ll stop talking. Why shouldn’t you have a male friend?”
“My brother will have a fit, and make a big deal out of it,” Kathryn said.
“Kathy, a long time ago when you chose to walk down the side aisle of the church you declared your independence from the St. John men. You don’t owe Hallock a damned thing, and if he says anything to you, you have got to tell him so. I don’t know why he’s so set with his only sister remaining an old maid.” She opened the oven door and pulled out the roasting pan, setting it on the butcher block section of her counter. Then, opening the second oven, she drew out a casserole of sweet potatoes and a platter of local fresh broccoli. “Take these out to the table while I slice the pork loin,” Mavis said.
Kathryn took some oven mitts and picked up the first dish. Pushing through the kitchen door into the dining room, she set it on a hot mat. Then she went back for the broccoli. “Shall I tell the men that dinner is served?” she asked Mavis.
“Come back for the bread basket, and then yes, go tell them,” her best friend replied as she carefully sliced the loin into perfect chops and set them on a large platter.
The broccoli and rolls on the table, Kathryn went back to the living room. “Mavis says dinner is ready,” she said.
“Smells terrific,” Timothy Blair said as he unfolded his length from the couch. “Where do I sit?” he asked when he had reached the dining room.
“To my right,” Mavis said as she came in with the pork and set it and herself down. “Kathy is always on Jeremy’s right. I hope you like roast pork, Tim. I stuffed it with apricots. It’s one of Kathy’s favorites.”
“I am a man with large appetites, Mavis,” he replied. “And roast loin of pork is one of my favorites too.” He sat down, and immediately served himself two of the chops.
“I think this fellow is going to be my new best friend,” Jeremy Peabody said as he passed the sweet potatoes. “He likes to eat and drink, and he’s literate.”
“He’s such a snob.” Mavis teased her husband. “All these old Egret Pointe families are, you know.”
“I’m not a snob!” Kathryn protested.
“No, you aren’t, but your brother sure is. Have you met Hallock Kimborough St. John the Fifth?” Mavis asked. “He’s on the school board.”
“Wasn’t in favor of you at all,” Jeremy said mischievously. “Wanted that old poop, Bob Wright. You’ll end up dealing with him sooner or later.”
“Why?”
“He has several kids in the school system and more to come. Who would have thought Hallock the Fifth was a baby factory, but then his very young wife is quite hot. Right now there are five little St. Johns and Debora is expecting twins again. The oldest son, Hallock the Sixth, is in seventh grade this year. And there are twin girls in fifth.”
Timothy Blair looked to Kathryn. “What does your brother do?” he asked her.
“Brokerage firm,” she said. “And he recently told me that my nephew didn’t need a summer reading program since he was going to follow Daddy into the family business.”
Tim burst out laughing. “You’re not very alike, you and your brother, are you?” he said. “He sounds like something from the nineteenth century.”
“He is,” Kathryn agreed with a small smile. “Did you ever see that play—it was a movie too—
Life with Father.
Hallock the Fifth is very much like Clarence Day.”
“But as I remember the play, Mrs. Day managed Mr. Day quite well,” Tim replied.
“Debora manages the house, and the children,” Kathryn said. “But no one manages Hallock the Fifth. He, like all the St. John men before him, is obdurate and convinced that he is always in the right.” She turned to Mavis. “Dinner is delicious, as always.”
“I second that!” Tim said enthusiastically.
Mavis had made fresh pear tarts for dessert. They had coffee in the living room. Outside it had grown dark.
“When you’re ready,” Timothy Blair said, “I’ll walk you home, Kathy.”
“No need,” she responded a bit too quickly.
“Perhaps not, but I’d like to nonetheless,” he told her.
Mavis shot her a look that said
If you refuse I’ll kill you right now.
“Thank you,” Kathryn said meekly and Mavis smiled, satisfied.
After a few more minutes of chatter the two guests decided it was time to go.
“You did pretty good,” Mavis whispered to Kathryn as they hugged.
“Thanks for dinner,” Kathryn responded.
Outside the air was crisp with the sun gone down. The sky was clear, and Venus was bright in the evening firmament. There was the scent of burning fireplaces as they walked along the lamplit streets.
“You really don’t have to walk me home,” Kathryn said.
“I want to,” he replied.
“Why?” she said directly.
“Because I’d like to get to know you better,” he told her candidly.
“Why?” she queried him again.
He laughed. “You sound like one of the schoolkids, Kathy. Okay, I’d like to get to know you because you’re intelligent and pretty as all get-out. You remind me of someone, but I’ll be damned if I can put a name to your face.”
“Suzy Parker, the model and actress from the fifties and sixties,” Kathryn told him.
“Of course! Do you remember that terrific movie she made?
The Best of Everything
? She played the actress who got mixed up with the Louis Jourdan Broadway producer who dumped her. She went crazy then, and fell off of a fire escape to her death.”
“The Rona Jaffe novel,” Kathryn said. “It was one of my favorites.”
“I never read the book, but my mother loved the movie. She had a tape of it,” he said. “We watched it together a lot when she was dying.”
“You were an only child?”
“Yep.”
“Lucky you!” Kathryn said.
He laughed. “A lot of only children will tell you how they missed having a sibling. I never did. And frankly my folks never had a lot of time for kids, but I had so many advantages being the only one.”
“What did your family do?” She was frankly curious.
“My dad was a partner in a high-powered law firm. My mom very socially active. Junior League, Episcopal Churchwomen, a charity for orphans among other things,” he said. “I had a nanny until I was ten. I went to private school, and after the nanny left I went to camp each summer. The summer I was seventeen my folks began taking me abroad with them in the summers. I think I love Italy best of all in Europe.”
“I love Italy too,” Kathryn said. “Venice in particular.”
“God yes! And it’s best in the non-tourist season. I don’t stay at one of the big hotels though. I have a little
pensione
on a small canal off the Grand Canal. There’s a room on the top floor with an iron balcony and a view of the city that’s spectacular,” he said. “On a clear day you can see all the way to the Lido.”
“I love to travel,” Kathryn admitted. “Whenever I feel I can take some time away from my library duties I go. My last trip was to Hong Kong. What an exciting city.”
“I was there last year,” he said. “I needed to get away after Dad died. I taught all day, and then helped out with my father in the evening. He got very frail, although he was as sharp as a tack mentally until he died. But when he died, our old housekeeper retired. She only stayed on after my mother died because of Dad. So as soon as I took care of what needed to be taken care of and summer vacation came, I took off.”