The Side of the Angels Read Online Free Page B

uniform unpressed, his hair growing longer and longer. The parish priest investigated, a family conference was held, and Johnny was taken in by my mom and dad.
    If my parents had suspected the situation earlier, he’d have been rescued from neglect years before, but Johnny’s mother was a charmer, Dad’s adorable, flighty little sister, Peggy, who knew how to keep up appearances—until one day she couldn’t anymore. Johnny’s dad was notable only for his spotless record of absence and his reluctance to contribute to his son’s financial support. The result of this haphazard upbringing was that Johnny, although he put up a good front, still guessed a little at what regular people did about things like buying dress shoes. And Louise was the only one he allowed to assist him with the things he didn’t know. It had always been that way. It was Louise who’d told him what flowers to get for his high school girlfriends on Valentine’s Day and how much to spend on them, Louise who drilled him for tests and proofread his papers when he was getting his BA in business administration at Towson State, Louise who ordered him his first business cards when he became co-manager at the shop, Louise who encouraged him in the aw-shucks politeness that was such an asset with his customers and his lady friends.
    For her part, when Louise broke up with someone and I was on the road, it was Johnny she called to come hold her hand. Johnny made sure she had her snow tires each winter and that her crummy apartment was equipped with enough locks and window bars to discourage an entire chain gang of escaped Lorton inmates. Johnny did the books for Custom Hitches. He even changed her lightbulbs.
    But lately Louise had seemed impatient and distracted in Johnny’s presence. I knew that she’d seen him a little less than usual this fall,and this change was not due to Betsey, a diligent and industrious type who had so many evening classes, book discussion groups, bridal workshops, and knitting festivals on her schedule that she often left Johnny at loose ends these days.
    Louise said, “I can’t go, Johnny. I’m booked for the rest of the afternoon.”
    â€œMaybe tonight?”
    â€œShouldn’t Betsey help you with this? She’ll know what sort of place her parents would take you.”
    The old Louise would rather have gone out to buy vacuum cleaner bags with Johnny than be taken to a four-star restaurant by anyone else.
    â€œBetsey has her class Halloween party tomorrow. It was delayed by the flu. All the kids got it.”
    Betsey was a second-grade teacher, and she was always busy with tasks that struck me as overwhelmingly boring, like putting up bulletin boards in celebration of Arbor Day or visiting the arts and crafts store for origami paper. Betsey was … well, the only word for her was
damp
. There’s something about teaching grade school that does it.
    What did Johnny see in her? Maybe the shakiness of life with his mother rendered cautious, reliable girls like Betsey attractive to him; they’d always been his type. Betsey would remonstrate with Johnny when he got a little wild. He would shock her by driving a hundred miles an hour down Dalecarlia Parkway or going “cliffjumping” up the river with the guys from the shop. He’d take a road trip to Atlantic City for a weekend and lose every cent he brought with him, just for the hell of it. Betsey would reproach him for these excesses and suggest some safe outlet for his energy, such as learning golf or coaching Little League.
    Betsey, as the pop psychology crowd would say, “grounded” Johnny. I didn’t think this sounded like a good thing.
    â€œI can’t go shoe shopping this afternoon, Johnny,” Louise said, sounding more fractious than I’d ever heard her.
    â€œHow about tonight?” He began beating a tattoo on the back of one of Louise’s overstuffed rose-velvet