"Jack Finney - The Other Wife" - читать интересную книгу автора (Finney Jack)

An oven door slammed in the kitchen as I turned to hang up my suit coat in the hall closet as always, then
footsteps sounded on the wood floor between the kitchen and the living room. And as she said, "Hi,
darling," I turned to see my wife walking toward me.

I had to admire my taste in this world. She was a big girl, tall and not quite slim; black-haired and with a
very fair complexion; quite a pretty face with a single vertical frown line between her brows; and she had
an absolutely gorgeous figure with long handsome legs. "Why, hel-lo," I said slowly. "What a
preposterously good-looking female you are!"

Her jaw dropped in simple astonishment, her blue eyes narrowing suspiciously. I held my arms wide then,
walking toward her delightedly, and while she accepted my embrace, she drew back to sniff my breath.
She couldn't draw back very far, though, because my embrace-I simply couldn't help this-was tight and
close; this fine-looking girl was a spectacular armful. "Now I know why I go to the office every day," I
was saying as I nuzzled her lovely white neck, an extremely agreeable sensation. "There had to be a
reason, and now I know what it is. It's so I can come home to this."

"Al, what in the world is the matter with you!" she said. Her voice was still astonished, but she'd quit
trying to draw back.

"Nothing you can't remedy," I said, "in a variety of delightful ways," and I kissed her again.

"Honey," she murmured after a considerable time, "I have to fix supper," and she made a little token
effort to get away.

"Supper can wait," I answered, and my voice was a full octave deeper, "but I can't." Again I kissed her,
hard and eagerly, full on the lips. Her great big beautiful blue eyes widened in amazement-then they
slowly closed and she smiled langorously.

Marion's face abruptly rose up in my mind. There in the forefront of my consciousness and conscience,
suddenly, was her betrayed and indignant face, every bit as vivid as though she'd actually walked in
through the door to discover this sultry brunette in my arms; and I could feel my face flame with guilt.
Because I couldn't kid myself, I couldn't possibly deny the intensity of the pleasure I'd felt at this girl in my
arms. I knew how very close I'd come to betraying Marion, and I felt terribly ashamed, and stood
wondering-this long length of glorious girlhood still in my arms-how to end the situation, and with charm
and grace. Now a moment later, her eyes opened, and she looked up at me questioningly, those full ripe
moist lips slightly apart. "Hate to say this," I said then, sniffing the air thoughtfully, "but seems to me I
smell something burning-besides me."

"Oh!"-she let out a little shriek, and as she ran to the kitchen I actually closed my eyes and sighed with a
terrible relief. I didn't know how I'd walked into this other alternate world, or how I could leave it; but
Marion was alive in my mind, while the world around me seemed unreal. In the kitchen I heard the oven
door open, heard water run in the sink, then the momentary sizzle of cooking meat; and I walked quickly
to the davenport and snatched up my copy of the Sun.

As I raised it to my face, the tap of high heels sounded on thai wood floor just outside the kitchen door.
There was silence as they crossed the rug toward me, then the davenport cushion beside me sank; I felt a
deliciously warm breath on my cheek, and I had to lower my trembling, rattling newspaper, turn and
manage to smile into the sloe eyes of the creature beside me.