Free 79 Park Avenue by Harold Robbins Page A

bed. Defdy she began to remove his diaper.
    Marja took a fresh diaper from the top of the old dresser and handed it to her mother. "She wanted me to eat with her, Mama," she answered, "so I did."
    Katti glanced at her quickly out of the corners of her eyes. "Don't do it again," she said quietly. "Your father was worried."
    A cold look came into Marja's eyes. "Why?" she queried sarcastically. "He run out of beer?"
    "Marja!" Katti spoke sharply. "That's no way to talk about your father."
    Marja went to the closet and took out a worn bathrobe, which she slipped into. "He's not my father," she said stubbornly.
    Katti sighed. "Why do you keep saying that, Marja?" she asked in a hurt voice. "He loves you and wants you to love him. He can't help it if you don't try to like him."
    Marja didn't answer. She picked up her toothbrush from a glass tumbler on the dresser and walked to the door. She stopped there and looked back at her mother. "I'll make Peter's bottle," she said.
    In the kitchen, she put the baby's bottle in a pan of water on the stove. She turned on the flame beneath it and went to the sink. Quickly, efficiently, she washed herself, then picked up the botde and went back into her room.

    "Give Peter the bottle," Katti said, getting up from the bed. "I'll go make your breakfast. I don't want you to be late for school."
    Marja bent over the baby, holding the bottle in her hand. She laughed at him. "Want yuh breakfast, Peter?"
    Peter's dark little eyes smiled at her. His tiny hands reached for the bottle, a smile spUtting his toothless mouth.
    "Yuh're so pretty," she said, putting the bottle to his mouth.
    He gurgled happily, his hps closing over the long rubber nipple. A tiny trickle of milk ran down from the corner of his mouth.
    "Slob," Marja laughed, wiping him with the towel she still held in her hand. She looked down at him. "Think you can keep from falling ofi the bed while Marja gets dressed?" she asked.
    Peter sucked happily at the bottle.
    She straightened up, the baby's dark eyes following her. "I guess you can manage," she said, smiling. She went over to the dresser and took out some clothing.
    She threw off the bathrobe and slipped out of the pajama top. Deftly, in almost the same motion, she stepped into her panties and reached for the brassiere on the dresser. A flash of light caught her eye, and she looked into the mirror over the dresser.
    The door behind her was open and she could see into the kitchen. Her stepfather was seated at the table, watching her. A look of contempt came into her face. He dropped his eyes.
    Still watching him, she slipped the brassiere straps over her arms and fastened it. Then she turned and walked to the door. He looked up again. She stood there silently a moment, then closed the door quickly and finished dressing.

    Peter had finished his bottle. She picked him up gaily and went out into the kitchen. Her stepfather was no longer there.
    Katti put a bowl of cereal on the table and held out her arms for the baby. "He finish the bottle?" she asked.
    Marja nodded. She handed Peter to her mother and sat down. "Oatmeal again?" she asked, staring into the bowl.
    "Oatmeal is good for you," Katti said. "Eat it."
    Marja made no move toward the food. She wanted a cigarette. She looked at her mother speculatively, wondering if she dared light one before breakfast. She decided against the idea. "I'm not hungry," she said.
    Her stepfather had come back into the kitchen. "Isn't oatmeal good enough for your rich tastes?" he asked clumsily. "Maybe you'd prefer ham and eggs?"
    Marja stared up at him coldly. "To tell the truth," she said, "I would."
    "Isn't that too bad?" he queried sarcastically. He turned to Katti. "I think she's ashamed because we're too poor to afford it."
    Marja's eyes were wide. "We wouldn't be if you could tear yourself away from the beer long enough to go to work," she said blandly.
    Peter held out his hands hopelessly toward his wife. "Respect for her parents she ain't