Her Father's House by Belva Plain

about.”
    â€œMuch ado about nothing. They went around together for quite a while, then they broke up and he was furious. It's an old story.”
    â€œThere's something you're not telling me.”
    â€œI forgot you're a lawyer! You'll dig till you find out something, won't you? But I guarantee that you won't like it when you do. Poor Lillian, she's in for a hard night, I see.”
    There was the faintest twinkle in Bettina's eyes. They're not real friends, he thought. They never were. A woman as beautiful as Lillian rarely has real friends.
    â€œYou want to tell me,” he said, “but you're waiting for me to beg you. Never mind. Lillian will tell me.”
    â€œMaybe she won't give you the whole story. It's a rather unusual one. You see, there was another woman studying in our group here, a very rich one from Texas, and Lillian stole her passport. Then there were other things, a little medical problem—”
    Donald interrupted her. “That man is driving away, so please get Lillian now. Here's the money for the lunch.”
    A rat, he thought, despising the disloyalty and the pleasure that this so-called friend was taking in what she no doubt now saw as a mounting, very interesting drama. And he got up to wait on the outer step for Lillian.
    â€œDonald, where are you going? We haven't had lunch yet.”
    â€œWe're not having it here. We need to do some talking before we think about eating.”
    â€œOh, I'm sure she told you, but I'll repeat it. He's a man I knew for a while. He's rather nasty, and I didn't want to see him again. That's the whole story.”
    â€œNo, not the whole. What about the passport you stole?”
    â€œStole? She said that about me? Why, damn her, she knows I didn't steal it. I haven't stooped to thievery, for God's sake. I borrowed it for one afternoon to show somebody—oh, all right, to show it to that man. It was fun. A game. A trick, pretending I was somebody else.”
    â€œBut you were afraid of him just now. You were terrified.”
    â€œHe has an awful temper, and I didn't want a scene here.”
    â€œAnd the little medical problem?”
    â€œShe said that?”
    â€œShe did. What was it?”
    â€œOh, Donald, do I have to rake up every rotten memory in my life? I notice you don't rake up yours.”
    â€œI've told you everything about myself. Everything, so help me.”
    â€œEither you're not telling the truth, or you have no rotten memories, which I find hard to believe.”
    â€œNo, I would have told you if there had been any. I've had some sadness, but nothing rotten. Nothing I'm ashamed to talk about.”
    â€œLucky you.”
    â€œThere's too much secrecy between us. Come to think of it, there always has been. I'm going to persist until you tell me about the medical problem. I have a right to know.”
    When she began to run, he caught her. “Be careful on those steps. Take my arm before you fall. In your condition—”
    She turned then to face him. “All right. You won't be satisfied until you hear. I had an abortion. So?” And she waited.
    They were following the river. Ahead of them a woman pushed a baby carriage, a pair of lovers paused to embrace, and tourists aimed their cameras. Timeless river, he thought again.
    â€œWhy?” he asked.
    â€œIt's a long story, and I'm terribly tired. I want to go back to the room and sit down.”
    In silence they walked and went up to the room. Then she spoke.
    â€œI met this man. We were in a group. He was Italian, very handsome, and he liked me. Somebody said he came from a distinguished family. And then there was a girl from Texas who was studying here, a rich girl with a well-known family name. Oil, I think it was. So I thought it would be fun to pretend I too was distinguished. And I showed him her passport. I took her name, Jean. She didn't mind. She was going back to Texas that week to be married.”
    The room was still. On