Read After the Fire for Free Online

each cheek. She wore a dark blue dress and no jewelry but diamond studs in her ears. When she moved her head, they winked. Today she was being reserved. She wanted Gerald to do the talking, Hy knew. She was watching him, waiting for something—for what?—to reveal itself.
    Yet you could not fault her behavior. Only if you understood Francine very well would you be able to guesswhat was happening inside her head as she sat there so correctly and courteously. So perfectly. Perfect even to her fingertips, which were pale pink.
    Hy looked at her own hands. She had forgotten to scrub off the ocher paint from yesterday's work. No amount of showering ever seemed to clean stuff from her fingers. And suddenly she felt oppressed. There was something artificial about this occasion, a feeling that had not been present during the chess game.
    “Yes,” Gerald said, replying to Dad's question, “I'm very sure. We had a neighbor who'd been wounded during the Korean War. They had to rebuild his face. It was fascinating to me, a marvel of science and art, what they did. I knew almost at once when I saw him that that was what I wanted to do with my life.”
    He spoke precisely, as he did everything with precision, whether slicing an apple, folding a sweater, or as now, laying the knife at the top of the plate, parallel to the edge of the table.
    Dad inquired, “How long does it take to be certified in plastic surgery?”
    “Three years at least.”
    “So then,” said Francine, “you must be looking for a residency right now.”
    “Yes, I've sent out a good many applications.”
    “You will want a first-class teaching hospital.” And when Gerald nodded, she added, “There are none around here. The local hospital would hardly do for you.”
    “That's true.”
    They were sparring over Hy's head. Of course Francineis glad that he will have to leave here, she thought. Why does he never talk to me about it? What is behind this?
    “At least they pay you fellows these days,” Dad said. “Years ago, interns and residents were expected just to be grateful for the opportunity to learn.”
    “They pay, but not very much, especially if a person has debts.”
    “Ah, yes. You owe the university here for their loan, Hy tells me.”
    “And I still owe for the care of my mother before she died.”
    “You're an ambitious young man. And responsible. I take my hat off to you.”
    Hopeless, thought Hyacinth.
    As if he had sensed her mood, Dad changed the subject to the tulips. “So nice of you to have brought these flowers. Makes you think spring can't be far away.”
    Now Gerald addressed Francine. “They reminded me of this yellow wallpaper. I always think this room, and this whole house, belong in a magazine.”
    A desultory conversation passed across the table. Hy barely heard it. A lump of cold fear lay in the pit of her stomach.
    “What do you say we go in and have a brandy?” suggested Dad. “You can practically feel the wind chill seep through the walls.”
    “You all go,” Hy said. “I'll clear the table and load the dishwasher.”
    He's going away, God knows where to, she thought. Am I to wait three years? He will find somebody else.
    Gerald said promptly, “I'll help you.” And turning to Francine, “Don't worry, I know that goblets don't go into the dishwasher. I'll be very careful of them.”
    He was trying so hard to please! But why should he care about Francine's opinion if things were coming to an end?
    “No,” Hy said, contradicting him, “I'll do it myself. Go finish the chess game with Dad.”
    When she looked around from the sink, Francine was standing in the doorway regarding her with a faintly sad expression on her face.
    “I'll do the goblets for you,” she offered quickly.
    “Eight goblets, water and wine for goodness' sake! Why is everyone making such a stupid fuss about them?” Hy blurted. And an instant later, aware of her own brusque tone, she blurted again, “Sorry. I guess I'm tired or