Once a Widow Read Online Free

white dress and white low-heeled sandals. He got out of the car and started after her. “Wait,” he called. “Please wait a moment.”
    She stopped and turned. She didn’t speak.
    He stood before her. “What’s the matter with you?” he said, smiling. “I’m not a white slaver, honest. Are you married, or something?”
    She said evenly, “I think you’d better go away.”
    He felt the anger again, but he smiled and said curiously, “But why?”
    “I don’t know you. What do you want?”
    He spread his hands. “Of course you don’t know me—you said that before. How can you know me if I don’t tell you who I am? All I want is to talk to you, and—” He broke off abruptly and turned away. “To hell with it.” He moved toward his car, watching her from the corner of one eye.
    He had his hand on the door latch when he heard her say softly, “I’m sorry.”
    He turned slowly, knowing that he had won, and went up to her. “That’s more like it. My name is Richard Barry. What’s yours?”
    “Rose Ann Deegan,” she said gravely. “What do you want?”
    “I told you.” He bowed and flourished an arm toward the Corvette. “Be my guest.”
    “No, thank you,” she said, but smiled and added, “Not today.”
    “Tomorrow?”
    She shook her head.
    “Look,” he said gently, “I know that men probably bother you a lot at the drive-in, and if I’m bothering you now, I’m sorry. I’ll go away if you say so. It’s just that I’m lonely, as I said, and I, well, I liked you the minute I saw you.” He grinned at her. “Do you want to see my credentials?” He produced his wallet from a hip pocket of his cord slacks, flipped the compartments with a thumb. “It’s all there—driver’s license, car registration, home address, blood type.” He pocketed the wallet, closed his eyes, lifted his head and said in a droning voice, “Richard Hotchkiss Barry, single, six-foot-one, one hundred and ninety pounds, hair black, eyes blue, occupation sales representative.” He opened his eyes, lowered his head, and displayed his white even teeth in an engaging grin. “And very lonely. Just call me Dick.”
    She laughed, and her eyes were friendly. “All right, Dick. But the answer is still ‘No.’”
    “Tomorrow, then—maybe?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
    She hesitated, and then said, “Maybe.”
    “Fine. I’ll pick you up at three.” He knew that this was not the time to press his advantage.
    “I’ll think about it.” She moved toward the house. “I have to go now.”
    That was the way it had started, the affair between Richard Barry and Rose Ann Deegan, although it was never an affair in the usual sense of the word. Rose Ann was a virgin, and she intended to retain that status until she married. She fell in love with Richard Barry, and he with her. It was a shattering, bewildering experience for him. For the first time in his life he really cared for another person, as a person. He found pleasure in merely being with her, talking to her. Very strange, indeed. Their relationship was not without passion, far from it, but Rose Ann firmly drew the line. They talked of visiting her parents in Dayton, Ohio, but Richard was evasive; he had only three weeks vacation and he wanted to spend all the time he could with Rose Ann, alone. Plenty of time to meet her parents. In September she would return to college, where she was majoring in home economics. Her job at the drive-in was a summer one, to help pay her tuition, because her father could not meet the full cost on his salary as a second assistant production manager in a Dayton foundry.
    Rose Ann, who would be twenty-one on her next birthday in October, believed completely that Richard Barry was what he’d told her he was—a salesman for a Cleveland manufacturer of marine motors, which explained why he’d picked the Lake Erie resort area for his vacation. Business with pleasure. It also explained why he could very seldom see Rose Ann in the evenings;