Just the Man She Needs by Gwynne Forster Page B

tell you she’d give you ice cream if you behaved?”
    “No, sir. She told me we couldn’t bribe anymore, and I would just have to be good. So I tried. But, Daddy, why is it bad to jump down the stairs?”
    “Because you can hurt yourself, break your arm or your leg, even your neck, and maybe never be able to walk again.”
    Teddy’s eyes rounded. “Gee. I won’t do that again.”
    “Of course you won’t, because I told you not to. Now, close your eyes, count to twenty and go to sleep. Good night, son.”
    “Good night, Daddy. Daddy, do I look just like you? Miss Eartha said I look so much like you she thinks you spit me out. What does that mean, Daddy?”
    “It means you look like me, and you’re supposed to look like me, because I’m your father.”
    “Okay, Daddy. I’ll tell Miss Eartha that. Good night.”
    He turned out the light, closed the door and ran down the stairs to get his supper. He didn’t require much care, and he especially didn’t want Eartha to pamper him. He went directly to the kitchen where he expected to see covered pots on the stove or a covered plate in the warmer, since it was after eight and an hour past their dinnertime.
    “You’re still in here?” he asked Eartha. “You know you don’t have to wait up just to serve my supper.”
    “I cooked a real good supper tonight. Even Teddy asked for seconds. I wanted you to taste it just like I fixed it, so you go on in there and sit down.”
    She brought in a bowl of mushroom soup, placed it in front of him, sat down and said the grace. He had a feeling that she didn’t trust his relationship with the Lord, because she insisted on saying grace herself. “Mr. Ash—” she never used his name properly “—Teddy’s teacher says he’s bored in class. She doesn’t have time to teach him like he wants to be taught.”
    Now what? He finished the soup and looked at the woman who made his life easier with the loving care she gave his son. “Is he having a problem?”
    “She said he learns fast and gets restless while she tries to teach the other children what he’s learned. She said you need to put him in a different kind of school, and she gave me two suggestions. He’s too young for first grade and too advanced for kindergarten.”
    “Thanks, I’ll look into it tomorrow. What else am I eating?”
    She put a feast in front of him and sat down to watch as he enjoyed filet mignon with red wine sauce, lemon-roasted tiny potatoes, green asparagus, breaded cauliflower with sour cream and a mesclun salad.
    “I can’t eat dessert, Eartha. This was wonderful.” Just what he needed to remind him that bachelor life wasn’t so bad.
    “I know you’re not going to pass up my sour-lime pie, don’t matter how full you are. Teddy sure loves this pie.”
    He ate the pie, partly because it was his favorite dessert and partly because she stood over him waiting to see happiness on his face. “Thanks for a great meal, Eartha. I won’t be home for dinner tomorrow night,” he told her, “so you can treat Teddy to his beloved hamburger.”
    “Yes, sir. He’ll love that.”
    A minute earlier, basking in Eartha’s caring, his thoughts had dwelled on the virtues of bachelorhood. But as he walked up the stairs to his room, his steps slowed and he became suddenly pensive. After such a meal as that one, a man should relax with a fine cognac, music and a beautiful woman. With that thought, a sense of loneliness pervaded him. He went into his room, kicked off his shoes, lifted the telephone receiver and immediately put it back in its cradle. He got up, walked over to the window and looked out at his garden, still bleak at the end of an usually cold March. He had to do something about Dream, and he ought to increase his shares of the Skate newspaper chain, because the value would shoot up when he bought that company. Why couldn’t he put his mind to work on his business interests? When had he ever spent an evening at home doing nothing? After