Free Brother and Sister by Edwin West Page A

now.
     
    And still she didn’t know. A lifetime with Bob? A lifetime without Bob? It was one or the other and which did she want?
     
    She didn’t know.
     
    Paul made as though to get to his feet, saying, “Well, I’ll leave you two -- ”
     
    “No!” She said it too quickly, with too much force, and tried to make it less strong at once, adding, “You don’t have to go anywhere, Paul. Gee whiz, Bob came over to see you, too. And you wanted to see that show on television tonight.”
     
    He looked at her, and she prayed he would be able to see the urgency in her expression, but that Bob wouldn’t.
     
    He hesitated, glancing at an unhappy-looking Bob, looked back at Angie, and finally settled into the chair again. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll stick around a little while.” He turned back to Bob again. “How are things going with you since you got out of school, Bob?” he asked.
     
    Bob shrugged, doing a good job at hiding his disappointment.
     
    “Pretty good,” he said. “I’ve just been loafing, pretty much. I’ll be going into the Army in a month or two, so right now I’m just kind of waiting around. You know how it is.”
     
    “Sure,” said Paul, and he started talking about how things had been with him just before he’d enlisted in the Air Force. Then the two of them talked about basic training and the military life in general.
     
    Angie joined the conversation every once in a while, but most of the time she was silent. There was only one sentence Bob had said that really stayed with her: “I’ll be going into the Army in a month or two.”
     
    And she didn’t even know if that made her glad or not.
     
    ***
     
    Later that night, in bed, Angie wondered what would eventually happen between herself and Bob. He’d been annoyed when he left tonight and it was understandable. She was ashamed of herself for the way she was treating him, but she just couldn’t help it.
     
    He had left early, before eleven o’clock. By that time the first twinges of guilt and shame had already touched her, so she had walked him to the door. When they were in the front alcove they were out of sight of the living room, and she had made no objection when Bob had taken her in his arms and kissed her.
     
    Then he had said, “Angie, I want to talk to you, you know that. I want to talk to you soon. And I think you know what I want to say to you.”
     
    “Yes. But, please, not now, Bob. I’m sorry, Bob, I really am. I know this is an awful way to treat you, but I just need time. I can’t make any decision now.”
     
    “All right,” he had said, and his arms had dropped away from her. “I’ll give you time,” he said. “But not too much. I’m not going to stay on the string forever.”
     
    “I’m sorry, Bob,” she had whispered. “I wish I didn’t have to be this way.”
     
    “Okay,” he had said and, without another word, had pushed open the front door and left the house.
     
    She had gone back to the living room and sat a while longer with Paul, watching television, trying not to think about the way she was treating Bob.
     
    But now she was in bed, in the darkness, Paul sleeping a room away. She couldn’t avoid the issue any longer.
    She could avoid it with Bob --he was patient with her, God knew, too patient -- but she couldn’t avoid it with herself.
     
    And she had made the decision once. Or at least she had acted, which was the same thing. The night her parents had died. She had been ready then to sleep with Bob, and that would inevitably have meant that she would marry Bob and spend the rest of her life with him.
     
    But her parents were dead. It hadn’t happened. Instead they had come back to a house of chaos.
     
    Was that an omen?
     
    No. It wasn’t an omen. God wasn’t going to go out of His way to kill two people purely and simply to give a stupid little girl like herself an omen.
     
    She couldn’t try to find the decision, ready-made, in signs and symbols; She had to work