Family Ties — читать онлайн бесплатно полностью

Whether he chose to accept it or not was up to him.

“And what if I simply tell my daughter she can’t date you?”

I snorted a soft laugh.

“You have a strange idea of humor, son.”

“No, sir. And I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I apologize if it sounded like it.”

“Something my grandfather said.” I paused to remember his exact words.

“He was a Naval officer. Academy, like you. He never made Admiral, but he still commanded men.”

“He told me never give an order you know won’t be obeyed.”

“Wise man, your grandfather.

A knock interrupted him. The pocket doors slid open and Christy’s mother entered with a tray.

“We thought you’d like dessert,” she said.

If her husband was annoyed, he didn’t show it.

Christy stood in the entry foyer and looked in nervously.

“Christine, dear,” her mother said, “will you bring us fresh glasses and

the bottle of 18-year-old.”

Christy jumped like she’d been scalded, but went to the liquor cabinet and joined us a moment later.

Anne asked her husband, “Will you do the honors while I serve dessert?”

“My pleasure.

Christy sat beside me, upright and poised on the edge of her seat. She accepted her glass mechanically and glanced from me to her father.

Anne set plates of cake in front of us. She sat down and accepted a glass of whiskey. “Thank you, dear.” She looked as innocent as a lamb. “So,” she said lightly, “what were you gentlemen talking about?”

“Young Paul here was quoting Hemingway and Napoleon to me,” Harold said.

Christy looked at me.

“We were discussing the nature of courage,” he added.

“Surely you both know courage when you see it.”

“Oh, I know it,” he said. “I just don’t know how to respond to it.”

“That’s all right. Paul and Christine can decide for themselves.”

“What? Oh, of course,” Harold said. He smiled fondly at his daughter.

“Birdy has a good head on her shoulders. Besides, we only want her to be happy.” He looked at me. “You understand that, I’m sure.”

Anne cleared her throat quietly.

“Just Harold,” he said, almost absently. Then his mood changed and he decided to make the most of the situation. “So, what should we drink to?”

“Happy beginnings?” Anne suggested.

“Happy beginnings it is. Sláinte.”

We raised our glasses and echoed the toast.

Before we drank I glanced at Harold with a raised eyebrow.

Christy and her mother watched us.

His bright blue eyes narrowed with amusement. “Drink up, son. Your wits can stand down.