RWS-160 The Tempted Bride by Carl Van Marcus


Chapter 1


San Mateo, California, was suffocating under a coat of brownish-purple
smog. On the Bayshore Freeway, traffic crawled, stopped, then crawled
slowly forward another fifty feet before stopping again. Horns honked.
Tempers were short.

Grace Hope was aware of neither the sweltering heat nor the traffic
delay. She barely listened to Judi Sprague's monologue; besides, she
already knew it by heart. Judi's favorite topic was men. As far as that
went, that was all Judi lived for: Men!

"Well," Judi was saying in her Bronx accent as she fluffed up her hair
and gazed coquettishly at the young man in the Mustang next to her car,
"I told him it was no go. I mean ... who did he think he was? What did
he think I was? Some common street girl? So I told him, 'See here, Bill
Hill. I don't care if you are the Sales Manager. I'll thank you to keep
your sweaty little hands to yourself.' So he started simpering and
playing Mister Nice Guy and says I have him all wrong, that he didn't
mean to imply I would go to bed with him. 'All I want,' says he, 'is a
female companion for the weekend at Tahoe ... someone to dance with,
gamble with, walk along the beach with,' So I says right back, 'Well,
why didn't you say so. Ah ... where is it that you plan to stay at
Tahoe?' He mentions some cheap cruddy flea-trap motel, and I says 'You'd
never catch me dead in that cruddy dump. How about King's Castle. He
kinda goes white around the gills and I can see him thinking it's going
to cost him thirty bucks a day. Finally he says he'll get reservations.
So ... the weekend isn't shot anyway." Judi braked suddenly, viciously
honked her horn, and swore at a woman who had abruptly switched lanes in
front of her. She turned to Grace and asked, "What you doing this
weekend, honey?"

"Oh, I plan to wash my hair, write a few letters, and do my laundry. And
I thought I'd bake some cookies for Stan."

Judi chewed her gum silently and looked sympathetic. "You heard from him
lately? I mean, he's okay and everything? That cruddy Vietnam." She
brightened, blinked her eyes, and dimpled as she saw the Cadillac
convertible driver in the far right lane staring at them in speculation
and open admiration.

Grace seemed unaware that Judi had switched her attention from Stan to
the other driver. She felt her eyes misting as she thought again about
Stan and what he must be going through over there. Finally she cleared
her throat and said, "He's okay. Or at least he was two weeks ago. They
were getting ready to go out on patrol and he said he wouldn't be able
to write for a while. I haven't had a letter for five days now. Maybe,"
she crossed her fingers, "there'll be one tonight."

"Gee ... I hope so, for your sake. It's bad enough being alone, but when
you don't get any letters either, I just don't know how you stand it,
honey. Why, I'd be climbing the wall within a week if I didn't have an
occasional fella to talk to."


End of Page 1. See rws-160.txt for full story.