About Peridot
by Lucius Parhelion
34 pages
/ 14000 words
SIBN: 978-1-60370-805-0, 1-60370-805-7
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
Steve is a jeweler who specializes in rare gems. He's a rare gem himself for the 1950s, a bachelor with a certain reputation. Nate, his best friend and business partner, has never had that sort of reputation, so when Steve gets the call that Nate was caught in establishment that caters more to his type, he goes home to see what's up.
Nate's got problems of his own, as well as the most supportive and nosy family a man could ask for. He has things he wants to tell Steve, but will society allow it to happen? Parhelion's Peridot is the tale of an unconventional romance in a very conventional time, full of laughs, tears, and ultimately, friendship.
Sample
The night my old life was blown to pieces, I’d just returned from Mogok, where I’d bought some pigeon’s blood rubies from a merchant who was a family acquaintance. I was staying at the Strand Hotel, which looked pretty shabby by 1958. Understandable, I suppose: the grand hotel had been a favorite of the British colonial administration and wasn’t much loved by their successors, Burma’s tottering civilian regime. Somehow, though, the phone call from the States still managed to get through to me.
Because of the time difference between Southeast Asia and the Pacific Coast, it was well after midnight when the twinned rings from the old telephone woke me. I answered with a curt, “Yes?”
“Mr. Steven Corvey?” My caller’s local accent was diluted by a slight British tinge.
“This is he.”
“International operator, sir. I have a phone call from the United States for you.”
At this hour? Bad news, no doubt. “Please put the call through.”
“Very well, sir.”
We both hung up. From the other side of the bed, I heard a noise of protest, but I was too busy staring at the phone, willing it to ring, to pay much attention. Just as well for the state of my nerves that the phone sounded again after only a minute or so: amazingly fast. I snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”
“This Steve Corvey?” The soprano voice seemed familiar even when distorted by the crackles of an overseas connection.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Winifred Jowlett here.” Aha, a second cousin of my business partner. “We thought we’d better call you. Nate’s in trouble back home.”
Nate Jowlett was my partner, but he was also my friend. I waved a hand to shush my companion, who’d started on what was probably a complaint at being abruptly awoken. “What? How?”