Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 28, 2025
"Integrity," Oliver imagined Jacky and then Suzanne. "Of course, it's different for everybody. We all have our weaknesses. Little things. Porter's forearms, for instance the way they swell up from his wrist. As soon as I saw them, I thought, oh, oh . . ." "Lucky Porter," Oliver said. "Olive Oil!" George bounced in from the ell. "Hi, Arlen, how're you doing?" "Just fine, George."
"I haven't seen William for years. He moved out of town." One of the parakeets burst into song. "There he is now." "Who?" "William," Arlen said. "Oh." They drank in silence. "Guess I'll be going," Oliver said. "Thanks. I'll put a key under the mat when I leave on Friday." "You're welcome, Oliver. Don't worry about Verdi."
I didn't know that." "Yes," Arlen said. "Tootsie belonged to William." His voice lingered on the name, and he looked out the window again. "I was just getting to know William. He asked me to keep Tootsie for him while he was away one summer . . . I suppose he was testing me." "Ah," Oliver said, vaguely. "Tootsie and I got along very well.
I don't say that just because he's a Silver Fox, because I have to admit that Artie Van Arlen and Wig Weigand are heroes, and they're not Silver Foxes. But, honest, Westy is a winner when it comes to tracking, and you've got to remember that, because now I'm going to tell you some other things about him and maybe you won't know just what to think.
And, it gave me a chance to get to know Arlen better." Porter beamed. Oliver didn't want to hear any confidences. "How's the baking going?" "Solid." Porter looked amused at Oliver's unease. "Scones are hot this year can't make enough of them. Later, Slugger." He punched Oliver lightly on the arm and unlocked a sleek black Toyota. Oliver watched him drive away.
"Go on up, kid," he said, "we've got got her talking now," and he coughed and choked. "Go on up, Roy," Artie Van Arlen said. Up on the roof all the fellows were sitting 'round the edge with their legs over, watching the black column in the sky, and shouting when they read the letters.
Roy shouted. "Carried by a large majority! Come on, let's go in for a swim while the tide's up. That will help to give us an appetite." "What do you mean, 'help to give us one?" asked Artie Van Arlen. "Haven't I got four already?" "Well, when you come out of the water you'll have five," said Roy.
"Good for him. I never met my father. That's why I'm going to Hawaii to see if I can find him." "Oh," Arlen said. "Well. It's a long flight. But there's no place like Hawaii. I usually stay over on the west coast, break the trip in two. The jet lag isn't so bad that way, and the flight isn't such an ordeal." "Not a bad idea." "San Francisco is wonderful, of course. Seattle and Portland are nice.
"To your new family and your beautiful old house," she toasted. "Jacky! How nice!" Jennifer swept in and gave Jacky one of those lengthy woman to woman hugs, timed to the microsecond to communicate eternal devotion, unceasing turf vigilance, equality before the Great Sister, and other messages beyond Oliver's understanding. Arlen exuded calm; the two women might have been cows rubbing shoulders.
That week, Oliver bought a round trip ticket to Portland, Oregon and a seven day Hawaiian vacation package that left from Portland. Porter would be glad to stay in the apartment and cat-sit, Arlen informed him. The three met for lunch in the Old Port. Porter was round and jovial, balding with a small spade shaped beard and one gold earring. He was a baker.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking