Blood and Oranges by James Goldsborough (latest books to read txt) 📗

The distance from Cal’s office at the rear of the temple to Willie’s in the front was forty-seven paces, at the opposite end of the second-floor roundabout. He knew the precise distance, though rarely made the trip. He had no interest in religion and Willie no interest in accounting. He wasn’t the first son reluctantly to work for his father during the Depression, when jobs were hard to find, even in Los Angeles. He’d worked his way up from part time bookkeeper while still at USC to fulltime business manager. The Depression had not hit Los Angeles as hard as some cities, but that was the problem: Armies of the unemployed trooped westward looking for work. The West did not have enough jobs for them all.

“Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays,” said Miss Shields with a big smile as he stepped into the reception room. He liked the lady, briskly cheery and efficient, someone who kept him informed on the phone and took good care of his father. He never failed to ask about her cats, and she never failed to give the same answer: that she couldn’t let them outside for fear of coyotes. She lived up somewhere in the Hollywood Hills where the critters had been used to living alone and took out their resentment on human intrusion by dining on their pets. Cal wondered if Miss Shields knew of Willie and Angie.

“He’s working on a Sunday script,” she said. “Go right in.”

“Morning, Dad.”

Jacket off, dressed in a starched white shirt with silver cufflinks and dark tie, Willie looked up and smiled. There’d been some awkwardness following the unexpected meeting at Sunset Tower, but it had passed. Father and son had been through too much together to stop being friends. Cal still had his key for Sunset, though hadn’t been back since That Night, as he thought of it. Even when he worked late, he drove home, taking no chances. Maggie had not used his apartment again. Harold was history, and as far as Cal knew, had not been replaced.

He surveyed the room, looking for changes. His eye ran over the bookshelves, old oaken desk, leather chairs and soft couch for afternoon naps. He saw the fresh flowers—brought by Miss Shields every morning, even in winter. Church people always know where to find flowers. He glanced out the picture windows with their view of the mountains, a view he did not have at the rear. He spied the chessboard from Tesoro. As usual, a game was in progress, most likely with Henry Callender. His eyes came to rest on the 1536 first edition Tyndale Bible on the reading stand by the desk. The bible and the chessboard were his father’s two most prized possessions. It was a tidy, scholarly, preacherly room with a beautiful painting of Christ at Gethsemane, and he felt a rush of affection for his father.

Willie watched him examining the bible. “Never too late, you know.”

Cal smiled. “Got some news for you,” he said, sitting down.

Willie took off his reading glasses, laid down his pencil, waiting.

“I’m going to take a sabbatical, go off to Europe a while. Do the grand tour.”

Willie frowned. “Europe? This is hardly the time to be visiting Europe.”

“Calm before the storm.”

“This is calm?”

“There’s more: Maggie is coming with me.”

“Maggie, heavens—does Eddie know?’

“Would he care?”

“Of course, he would,” said Willie, annoyed. “I don’t like it. People talking about war before the year is out and you’re dragging Maggie off to Europe?”

“Just for the summer. I haven’t seen anything about war. The Austrians didn’t fight. They welcomed the Germans.”

“The Czechs don’t seem so enthusiastic.”

“It’s a chance to see things while we still can.”

“Hitler’s not done.”

They were talking past each other.

“Do you know I haven’t been out of the country since we came back from China? How old was I—four?”

Willie thought for a moment. “Yes, you were four. Where would you go in Europe?”

“We’re working on the itinerary. So far it’s London, Berlin, Prague and Paris.”

“Berlin?”

“Why not?”

His father swung around in the swivel chair to look out at his favorite sight. “Because you might get stuck there.”

“America isn’t involved in those quarrels. I don’t see a problem.”

“Why Prague?”

“Because of you, Dad,” he said with a huge smile. “Prague is where you went as a seminarian—at least that’s what you’ve told me enough times. Prague, Jan Hus, where the Reformation began.”

Pleased, Willie turned back from the mountains. “And what about the temple?”

“The department’s in good hands. Don’t worry.”

“I always worry. It is my nature.”

“Pray to overcome it.”

“I do pray, Cal, I do. Seriously, does Uncle Eddie know about Maggie?”

“Maggie does what she wants. Right now she wants to fly European planes.”

Willie nodded. “Impulsive girl—not one to let loose in Europe. Look a little odd, won’t it—I mean the two of you together like that? You’ll have to have separate rooms.”

Cal smiled. “We’ll manage.”

“You’re going to watch over her, right? Make sure she comes home again.”

“Do my best. No one really watches over Maggie.”

“What about Lizzie—she’s not going?”

“Lizzie has been hired by the Times.”

“I hadn’t heard. No one tells me anything. Is that what she wanted?”

“You bet.”

“Good for her. So when would you leave?”

“We’re aiming for a month. Lots of preparations.”

“You’ll stay in touch?”

“At every stop.”

“Say, I wonder if you’d do me a little favor before you go off.”

“Name it.”

“Take Angie to lunch.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t like it. Saw there was more in it than lunch.

“Cal, trust me on this.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Take the Cadillac. Take her to the Brown Derby. She said you two kind of clicked that night at my place. Get to know her, that’s all I ask. You never know.”

“You never know what?”

Willie laughed. “Look, we preachers have certain gifts, but I’ve never known one yet who could see into the future.”

Against his inclinations, Cal took Angie to lunch at the Brown Derby, the first time he’d seen her since That Night. As business manager he kept the keys to the Cadillac and thought he might