"Rog Phillips - The Egg Head" - читать интересную книгу автора (Phillips Rog)

. . They were doing their honeymoon up right. Then came the telegram. They would arrive Saturday
afternoon. I kept my mouth shut this time. It was an effort.

Doris had grown up. I kept looking at her, trying to get used to it. Her husband seemed like a
kidтАФor rather, a mixture of kid and old maid. His movements were fussy. He fussed with his pipe, he
adjusted the ashtray on the coffee table, he fidgeted when he sat on the davenport, then crossed his legs.
He cleared his throat.

He had taffy-colored hair. Ours is dark brown. He was big boned without being muscular. Donald
and Billie take after me in being small boned but wiry, with quick, sure movements and biceps that can
ball up like a fist, even under a shirt.

We looked at him and he looked at us, while Doris chatted happily about all the places they'd been
on their honeymoon. When there were silences, Mom or Pat or Joanne would say something quick to get
Doris going again about Niagara Falls or some other part of the trip.

It was up to me, so in one of the silences I said, "Doris tells us you're a scientist, Bob."

He puffed blue smoke from his pipe. "I guess you could call me that," he said. "I'm a research
chemist."

"Oh," I said.

"What does a research chemist do, Bob?" Joanne asked.

"Well . . ." He uncrossed his legs. "It's a little like what your father does. Something happensтАФa
murder, for instance. He and his men, working as a team, gather all the evidence. Then, using the
evidence, they try to identify the unknown quantity. X. The murderer. But maybe the evidence isn't
enough. Then they have to figure out what X will do under certain circumstances, and arrange those
circumstances, to trap him. I do much the same thing, but with chemicals instead of murderers."

"Oh," Joanne said.

"Well," Mom said with forced cheerfulness, "the Swiss steak should be done now. Pat, Joanne, set
the table. Doris, Bob, I know you want to wash up after your long drive. There's towels laid out for you
in the bathroom." She smiled at Bob, gave me a helpless look, then fled to the kitchen.

"Donald," I said, "why don't you and Billie bring in their suitcases."

Bob Nichols opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but Donald and Billie had fled.
With a sigh Bob followed Doris upstairs, and half an hour later we were all sitting around the table.

Bob sampled the Swiss steak, smacked his lips, and said, "This is delicious, Mother." The word
caught me completely by surprise, and I choked.

MomтАФJanetтАФturned the brightest shade of pink I'd seen on her since the days I courted her,
almost thirty years ago. "It's just Swiss steak," she said.

"It's far more than just Swiss steak," Bob plunged on. "I hope Doris has the recipeтАФ"