The Million-Dollar Marriage. Eva Rutland

you’d rather be at the farm?”

      “Oh, sure. And I stay there as much as I can. Still have my old room.”

      “Your old room? You spent a lot of time there as a kid?”

      “Every summer.”

      “Your brothers, too?”

      “Only me. Frank and Pedro were into baseball and wouldn’t leave the city, and Marie was too little.”

      “Marie?” This was the first she had heard of a sister.

      “Baby of the family, and the only girl. She’s at City College now. Really into drama, which bugs the hell out of Pop.”

      “Why? If she enjoys it...”

      “Wrong crowd for his little girl.” Tony grinned. “Guess Pop must have read one or two of those wild stories about actresses in People magazine.”

      “Oh.” Mel wondered if Tony’s family really lived in the twentieth century. His grandparents must be out of this world. And she was about to meet them. No wonder she had the jitters.

      But the jitters began to dissipate as they left the city noise and traffic for the comparatively uncrowded countryside. There was something magically calming about the quiet, the smell of country air, the sight of rolling green pastures and acres of freshly tilled earth.

      “Here we are,” Tony said as he turned the truck into a tree-shaded lane. The lane led to a two-story clapboard house that seemed small under three towering oaks. There was a banistered porch that wrapped around the house. There was a frisky dog that ran across the lawn to meet them.

      There was the feeling that she had come home to something warm, solid and enduring. Strange. She tried to understand it as she jumped down to pet the dog that greeted them with excited barks.

      Suddenly the peace was broken by a woman’s voice, frantic, cutting through the yelps of the dog. “Tony! Thank God. Come quick!”

      Tony sprinted into the house, Mel following, somewhat impeded by the dog. By the time she entered the wide living room, Tony was kneeling beside a large man who was sprawled across the four steps of a landing which led to a steep stairway. A small woman also knelt beside him, and the dog was licking his face.

      The man was cursing. “Damn it! I’m all right I tell you. Down, Cocoa down! Damn it, Tony, get this fool mongrel the hell off me!”

      “Just keep still, Al. Is he hurt?” The woman anxiously questioned Tony who seemed to be checking for broken bones.