Page 23 of Orrie's Story


  She sat down on the couch, but he remained standing.

  “I hear you’re in college?” Her hair was, unlike Gena’s, blond all the way to the roots.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I guess it’s pretty tough?”

  He shrugged and finally chose the chair that was most distant from her, though fortunately the room was not all that wide. “A lot more reading assignments than high school, but that’s about all.” She looked as if she were made of peach ice cream. There was not a pimple on her face. She wore golden bangs, and on either side of her face the hair fell straight and smooth and shining to her shoulders.

  She raised her perfect eyebrows. “Maybe I’ll see you up there next year—that is, if you’re still going?”

  That she might be dubious about his continuing to pursue higher education was insupportable. “I will certainly be there. You can count on it. I’m in premed, you know.”

  “Gee, that’s great,” Hermione said. “A couple of guys from my class are going, but they’re just big dumb guys on football scholarships. It’ll be nice to know somebody intelligent who’s already there. I don’t make new friends easily.” Her smile made the sun seem dim. “I’ve never been away from home except maybe to stay overnight at a friend’s house.”

  Orrie smiled back. “That’s just about the way I was too, when I first went. You’ll be just fine. Everybody has to leave home eventually, and college is probably one of the nicer ways to do that.”

  “I really like your sister,” Hermione said brightly. “I myself am an only child.”

  “She’s just a junior in high school right now, but she wants to go to law school when the time comes.”

  “Sounds like a smart family.”

  Suddenly they were respectable. That should please Ellie if she had any sense. He wondered how much Hermione knew about himself, but the whole story had been in the newspapers and on the radio and anyway as the Terwillens’ niece she could hardly be in the dark—and yet she apparently found him an acceptable human being, even seemed to be implying that she would welcome his friendship, though of course before jumping to any rash conclusions he should probably get the advice of Paul, who was so wise in the ways of women.

  Mrs. Terwillen came into the doorway at that moment and exclaimed, “You’ve already gotten to know each other! Well, dinner’s on the table.”

  Hermione frowned beautifully. “Now, Aunt May, you said I could help.”

  “But you’re the guest, sweetheart.”

  “Then I’ll do the dishes!”

  Mrs. Terwillen simpered at Orrie. “When I was her age, I did everything I could to duck out of any work.” She patted his shoulder. “Would you please go get your sister, dear? I hate the way shouting sounds.”

  Orrie was embarrassed to remember that Ellie seldom volunteered for household chores. But going up the stairs, he reflected that he might soon have the pleasant responsibility of looking after another younger member of the female sex, one to whom he was not related. Surely there was nothing that could make you feel more of a man.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1990 by Thomas Berger

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  978-1-4804-6850-4

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  Thomas Berger, Orrie's Story

 


 

 
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