Category: chris
Quotes of Category: chris
He caught my hand and drew me closer to his side. "Well, should I begin to list them one by one, and by name? If I did it would take several hours. If there had been someone special, all I would do is name one-and I can't do that. I liked them all . . . but I didn't like any well enough to love, if that's what you want to know."Yes, that was exactly what I wanted to know. "I'm sure you didn't live a celibate life, even though you didn't fall in love . . . ?""That's none of your business," he said lightly."I think it is. It would give me peace to know you had a girl you loved.""I do have a girl I love," he answered. "I've known her all my life. When I go to sleep at night, I dream of her, dancing overhead, calling my name, kissing my cheek, screaming when she has nightmares, and I wake up to take the tar from her hair. There are times when I wake up to ache all over, as she aches all over, and I dream I kiss the marks the whip made . . . and I dream of a certain night when she and I went out on the cold slate roof and stared up at the sky, and she said the moon was the eye of God looking down and condemning us for what we were. So there, Cathy, is the girl who haunts me and rules me, and fills me with frustrations, and darkens all the hours I spend with other girls who just can't live up to the standards she set. And I hope to God you're satisfied."I turned to move as in a dream, and in that dream I put my arms about him and stared up into his face, his beautiful face that haunted me too. "Don't love me, Chris. Forget about me. Do as I do, take whomever knocks first on your door, and let her in."He smiled ironically and put me quickly from him. "I did exactly what you did, Catherine Doll, the first who knocked on my door was let in-and now I can't drive her out. But that's my problem-not yours.""I don't deserve to be there. I'm not an angel, not a saint . . . you should know that.""Angel, saint, Devil's spawn, good or evil, you've got me pinned to the wall and labeled as yours until the day I die. And if you die first, then it won't be long before I follow. book-quotechrisSome toy you give," he said, gritty-voiced, and now the two tears in the corners of his eyes began to slide down his cheeks."You remembered the day Daddy said he would give me this when I became a doctor.""How could I forget? That little catalog was the one thing you took of yours that wasn't clothes, when we went to Foxworth Hall. And every time he swatted a fly, or killed a spider, Paul, Chris would long to have a John Cuff microscope. And once he said he wanted to be the Mouseman of the Attic, and discover for himself why mice die so young.""Do mice die young?" asked Paul seriously. "How did you know they were young? Did you capture baby ones, and mark them in some way?"Chris and I met eyes. Yeah, we'd lived in another world back when we were young and imprisoned, so that we could look at the mice who came to steal and nibble on our food, especially the one named Mickey. book-quotepaulchrisSo, the dreams of perfection, of fame, of fortune, of undying, ever-abiding love without one single flaw, like the toys and games of yesteryears, and all other youthful fantasies I have outgrown, I have put away.Often I look at Chris, and wonder just what it is he sees in me. What is it that binds him to me in such a permanent way? I wonder too why he isn't afraid for his future and the length of it, since I am better at keeping pets alive than husbands. But he comes home jauntily, wearing a happy grin, as he strides into my welcoming arms that respond quickly to his greeting, "Come greet me with kisses if you love me. book-quotechrisMy heart jumped. "Yes. Yes I do. Chris, go on to the Mayo Clinic without me. I'll make out fine, and I swear not to marry anyone until you are back and give your approval. Worry about finding someone yourself. After all, I'm not the only woman who resembles our mother."He flared. "Why the hell do you put it like that? It's you, not her! It's everything about you that's not like her that makes me need and want you so!"Chris, I want a man I can sleep with, who will hold me when I feel afraid, and kiss me, and make me believe I am not evil or unworthy." My voice broke as tears came. "I wanted to show Momma what I could do, and be the best prima ballerina, but now that Julian's gone all I want to do is cry when I hear ballet music. I miss him so, Chris." I put my head on his chest and sobbed. "I could have been nicer to him-then he wouldn't have struck out in anger. He needed me and I failed him. You don't need me. You're stronger than he was. Paul doesn't really need me either, or he would insist on marrying me right away. . . .""We could live together, and, and . . ." And here he faltered as his face turned red.I finished for him, "No! Can't you see it just wouldn't work?""No, I guess it wouldn't work for you," he said stiffly. "But I'm a fool; I've always been a fool, wanting the impossible. I'm even fool enough to want us locked up again, the way we were-with me the only male available to you!""You don't mean that!"He seized me in his arms. "Don't I? God help me but I do mean it! You belonged to me then, and in its own peculiar way our life together made me better than I would have been . . . and you made me want you, Cathy. You could have made me hate you, instead you made me love you."I shook my head, denying this; I'd only done what came naturally from watching my mother with men. I stared at him, trembling as he released me. I stumbled as I turned to run toward the house. Before me Paul loomed up! Startled I faltered guiltily and stared at him as he turned abruptly and strode in the opposite direction. Oh! He'd been watching and listening! I pivoted about, then raced back to where Chris had his head resting against the trunk of the oldest oak chris
