At the Water's Edge Read Online Free Page A

me! You know perfectly well they do!”
    His outburst caused everyone to turn and look.
    Ellis waved an angry hand at them. “See?”
    He glanced fiercely around. To a person, they turned away, their scandalized expressions trained elsewhere. Conversations resumed, but in dampened tones.
    Ellis locked eyes with me. “I know I look perfectly healthy,” he continued, his voice under taut control. “My own father thinks I’m a coward, for Christ’s sake. I need to prove myself. To him, to them, to
me
. Of all people, I thought you’d understand.”
    â€œDarling, I do understand,” I said.
    â€œBut do you?” he asked, his mouth stretching into a bitter smile.
    â€œOf course,” I said, and I did, although at that moment I would have said anything to calm him down. He’d been drinking hard liquor since early afternoon, and I knew things could degenerate quickly. The carefully averted faces of those around us already portended a very unpleasant beginning to the new year.
    My mother-in-law, who had missed the party because of a migraine, would surely start receiving reports of our behavior by noon. I could only imagine how she’d react when she found out I’d lost the hair comb. I resolved to telephone the next day and throw myself on Mrs. Pew’s mercy. If the comb had come out in the snow, it was probably gone forever, but if it had fallen down the back of a sofa, it might turn up.
    Ellis watched me closely, the fire dancing in his eyes. After a few seconds, his angry mask melted into an expression of sad relief. He leaned sideways to pat my knee and almost fell out of his chair.
    â€œThat’s my girl,” he said, struggling upright. “Always up for adventure. You’re not like the other girls, you know. There’s not an ounce of fun in them. That’s why Hank won’t marry Violet, of course. He’s holding out for another you. Only there isn’t one. I’ve got the one and only.”
    â€œWho the whatty-what now?” said Hank, appearing from nowhere and crashing back into his chair. “Over here!” he barked, snapping his fingers above his head. A waiter set more drinks on the table in front of us. Hank turned back to Ellis. “Is she trying to marry me off again? I swear there’s an echo in here.”
    â€œNo. She’s agreed. We’re going to Scotland.”
    Hank’s eyes popped open. “Really?” He looked at me for confirmation.
    I didn’t think I’d agreed, per se, at least not after I realized we weren’t just joking, but since I’d managed to defuse the bomb and perhaps even save the evening, I decided to play along.
    â€œSure,” I said, gesturing grandly. “Why not?”

Chapter Three
    T he next morning, I was startled awake by the telephone ringing in the downstairs hallway. It was exactly nine o’clock, which was the very earliest time considered civilized. I clutched the covers to my chin, paralyzed, as Pemberton, the butler, summoned my mother-in-law. I heard her determined footsteps, then her muffled voice, rising and falling in surprised waves.
    I was entirely wretched—my head pounded, my stomach was sour, and it was quite possible that I was still drunk. While I remembered much of the night before, there were moments I couldn’t recall, like getting home. The realization that I’d passed the point of being tipsy had come over me quite suddenly—I remembered being acutely aware that it was time to call it a night, but I did not remember leaving, much less the ride home. I had no idea how many—or few—hours I’d been in bed.
    My ruined dress lay in a limp heap in the middle of the carpet, looking for all the world like a length of intestine. My shoes were nearby, one of them missing a heel. The white stole was flung over the edge of my polished mahogany dressing table, the fur spiked anddirty. I’d dropped my