One Good Turn Read Online Free Page B

hard to find that spark of humor in him, that trace of warmth? Why, when there were plenty of other eligible guys in Washington, D.C., at least a score of them at the party Sybil had brought her to, did Lucas Benning matter?
    Jenny didn’t need a reason. She believed that everyone mattered, and that the more people whose lives you could touch, the better a person you yourself would be, and that the people who were hardest to get through to were often the most important to reach.
    For at least one precious moment on a quiet street in Georgetown, she’d reached Lucas Benning. Of course it mattered.
    They continued around the block at an unhurried pace. “Where do you go to school?” he asked.
    “Smith College. You?”
    “Princeton. What are you studying?”
    “I’m an English major,” she told him. “I’m going to become a teacher.”
    “A teacher!” His laughter wasn’t warm this time. It was mocking.
    “What’s wrong with being a teacher?” she asked.
    His smile waned. “Nothing, really.”
    “So why did you laugh when I said it?”
    “I don’t know.” He sounded contemplative. “I guess...it’s just that everybody I know plans to make big bucks after graduation. Law school, business school—hustle, hustle. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? That’s what’s out there waiting for us.”
    “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
    He eyed her speculatively, and took his time before answering. “I... don’t know.” His tentative tone implied that he hadn’t ever given the question much thought before now.
    “What are you planning to do after graduation?” she asked.
    “Law school,” he muttered, sounding almost embarrassed.
    She smiled to reassure him. “That’s okay. I’ll try not to hold it against you.”
    They turned the next corner. “A teacher, huh.”
    “Maybe it’s an unusual choice in this day and age,” she defended herself. “Especially for a woman. We’re all supposed to be pursuing power careers. But I’ve wanted to be a teacher my whole life.”
    “That’s nice,” he said quietly.
    “Have you wanted to be a lawyer your whole life?” she asked.
    His answer was a snort. Then: “So what are you doing in D.C.?”
    The implication underlying his question was that only pre-law and business students would choose to take a summer job in Washington, America’s premiere company town, where the company was government and the product was power. “I’ve only been to Washington once before,” she told him. “It was a family vacation when I was about eight. We spent two hours here, a half-hour there—you know, the tourist thing.” She sighed happily. “This is such a great city, Lucas. I just wanted to immerse myself in it for a summer. I mean—to be able to take in the Pei wing of the National Gallery on my lunch break, or to visit the Lincoln Memorial whenever I feel like it... Or to see the actual Declaration of Independence, or the original Star-Spangled Banner... Or even these lovely old houses in Georgetown. They predate the Revolution, some of them.”
    He shot her a bemused look. “You’re really into this, aren’t you,” he murmured.
    She grinned, aware that she was once again coming across as insufferably corny. “I’m probably more into it than all the high-power lawyers.”
    “Ah, yes,” he said dryly. “We’ll end up with all the money and the power, and you’ll end up teaching idealism to a class full of dewy-eyed children.”
    “That’s where the real power is,” she declared. “You lawyers may make all the big bucks, but we teachers will be molding the minds of your kids.”
    “We’ll be so busy making big bucks we won’t have time to have kids,” he predicted.
    They had reached the block where they’d started. The front-hall crowd had migrated out onto the porch; their voices raised in animated debate. Every now and then someone opened the front door and a babble of voices, underlined by distant strains of rock music,