The Rake

The Rake by William F. Buckley Page A

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    It has to be Jean-Paul, Henri said to herself, walking to the phone.
    He greeted her.
    He had much enjoyed the dinner…. “Amy is a darling…. I have been talked into test-driving a Buick car. Do you know anything about Buicks, apart from what you’ve heard from John?”
    They rattled on in French for a few enjoyable minutes.
    Was Henri free to have lunch with him that day? “I am lecturing at two. Perhaps the Faculty Club at twelve-thirty?”
    She questioned herself rapidly. She had never even been inside the Faculty Club. “Um, yes. That would be very nice. I would attend the lecture except that I have to be back at the library.”
    â€œI will give you the lecture at your convenience. And that way I can deliver it in French!”
    The telephone rang again within minutes. It was Amy. Henri could picture her, petite and tidy, with the broad smile that reconfigured her whole face.
    â€œDarling, you were a big hit last night. With everybody, but especially JP. ‘Jean-Paul’ sounds so formal. Sounds like a French opera.”
    â€œHe doesn’t object to ‘JP’?”
    â€œOh, no. By the end of dinner, he was telling Halston and Helen to call him Zhay Pee.”
    â€œListen, Amy, he called me just now. Wants me to have lunch with him at the Faculty Club.”
    â€œThat’s my Henrietta! You can ask him to call you Henri.”
    â€œI like him. He told me he’s lecturing on Daumier this afternoon. I won’t be there, but I like the way he sort of half treats me as a French student, half as a lover.”
    â€œWell, what do you know! You’ll have to travel to France some day and reacquaint yourself with how those—”
    â€œ Don’t say ‘those frogs.’ ”
    Amy laughed. “I wasn’t going to. Never would use the word, let alone when talking to someone whose father was French. No, I like him too, and Professor Gauthier, the head of the French department, I know likes him. Gauthier struggled hard to persuade him to stay at the university last year.”
    â€œHe wanted to quit?”
    â€œWhen Stephanie died, that left him pretty wasted. He just wanted to do something else. But I think he’s over that. I’m so pleased you’ve taken a shine to each other.”
    â€œAmy, I have to go. Justin’s finished his breakfast and I need to take him to school. I’ll report for duty at the library by nine.”
    â€œI’ll be a half hour late. John insists I go by his dealership and see the new Buicks.”
    â€œYou can drink from the bar in the backseat.”
    â€œOh. You heard his line last night—”
    â€œGot to go. See you later.”
    How would she dress? She’d be going to the Faculty Club right from the library. She had to act quickly. Justin mustn’t be late. Anything other than her work slacks and blouse! If she wore the silk shantung skirt she’d bought last Christmas, would that be a little flashy as office wear? The hell with it. She found it deep in the closet and put it on. She put her pearls in her pocket; she’d keep them there until she left for the Faculty Club.

CHAPTER 20
    Boulder, December 1987
    It was Christmas Eve. Justin would leave the apartment at five o’clock to spend a happy few hours with three friends, Sarah and Paul Robbins (twins), and Hector Block. They would go to the Roxy Theater and catch the double feature. Three solid hours of moviegoing. Then Alice Robbins, the twins’ mother, would pick them up, and they would have Christmas Eve supper at the Robbinses’ house. At twenty minutes to twelve, Henrietta would drive over and take Justin to the midnight Mass at Saint Martin de Porres.
    Meanwhile, Jean-Paul would come for her at six, and they would go for dinner at the country club.
    It had been a diligent courtship. Since meeting at Amy’s they had lunched or dined together a half dozen times, though never with

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