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.’He laughed and she felt totally at ease with him.‘Can you hold on a minute while I wash my hands?’‘Sure.‘She returned in moments, saying, ‘There, that’s better.I was a little pasty.’‘You’re wallpapering?’‘Yes.‘‘How does it look?’‘Absolutely great.Wait till you see the Belvedere Room, it.’ She interrupted the thought, realizing the implications of such familiarities.‘It - ?’ he encouraged.It’s a dusty shade of pink and you’ll never see it.We must both make sure of that.‘It’s nearly finished, and the paper is going up like a dream.’‘Wonderful.So what did you decide about the truck?’The truck.The truck.She hadn’t given it another thought, but she had no other means of transporting furniture.‘If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll take it.’‘Could you use a little company?’She’d expected to simply borrow the truck and drive it herself.She stood in the kitchen feeling undermined, wondering how to answer, stating at the handle on the refrigerator door and picturing his face.When she failed to reply, he added, ‘I thought, if you bought anything big you could probably use some help unloading it.’How awkward.To object on the grounds of impropriety put motives in his mind of which he was perhaps not guilty, yet to accept might give him reason for believing something of that sort had possibilities.She decided to do the honourable thing, no matter how indelicate it sounded.‘Eric, do you think that’s wise?’‘My day is free, and if it’s all right with you I’ll stop by Bead & Ricker and pick up something I ordered for Nancy for Christmas.They called to say it’s in.’The mere mention of Nancy acquitted them both.‘Oh.well, fine then.’“What time should I be there?’‘Early, so I don’t miss any of the good stuff.’‘Are you a breakfast cater?’‘Yes, but-’I’ll pick you up at seven and we’ll get on the way.And, Maggie?’‘Yes?’“You’d better wear boots.The heater in the old whore could be a little more efficient.’‘I will.”‘See you in the morning.’She hung up and propped her forehead in her hands, her elbows on her knees and sat there hunched over, staring at the kitchen floor.For a full two minutes, just staring, waiting for common sense to take over, thinking stupid things about widowed women making fools of themselves.She leapt to her feet, cursed under her breath and picked up the phone to call him back and cancel.She slammed it back down and sat on her stool again.You know what you’re getting into here.I’m getting into nothing.This is the last time I’ll see him.Honest.She awakened the following morning with the thought singing through her mind: I’ll see him today, I’ll see him! She rolled to one side, snuggling her jaw deep in the feather pillow, wondering exactly how much contact with a married man constituted a friendly liaison.She lay thinking of him his hair, eyes, mouth - and rolled to her back with her eyes closed and her arms curled tightly over her stomach.She dressed in the most unattractive clothes she could find - blue jeans and a grotesque gold sweatshirt that made her a walking ad for Ziebart—then ruined it all by fussing with her makeup and doing the gd routine with her hair.His truck pulled up precisely at seven and she met him halfway down the sidewalk, bundled in boots and her pink jacket, carrying four folded blankets over her arms.‘Good morning,’ he said.‘Good morning.I brought some blankets to pad the furniture with, in case I buy any.’‘Here, I’ll take them.”He took the blankets as they walked side by side to the truck.‘All set to find some buys?’‘I hope so.’Everything so platonic on the outside, while a forbidden glow was kindled by his very presence.He stowed the blankets in the bed of the pickup and they got under way.The sun had not risen.Inside the cab the dash lights created a dim glow and on the radio Barbra Streisand sang ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’.‘Remember the time.’They talked - had there ever been a person with whom she could talk with such ease?- about favourite Christmases of the past and a particular one, in the sixth grade, when they’d both been in a Christmas pageant and had had to sing a carol in Norwegian; about making snow forts as children; about how candles are made; how many varieties of cheeses come out of Wisconsin; how giving away cheese at Christmastime had become a tradition.When they grew tired of talk, they found equal ease in silence.They listened to the music and the weather forecast- cloudy with a sixty per cent chance of snow - and laughed together at a joke made by the deejay.They rode on in companionable silence as a new song began to play.They felt the rumble of occasional ice patches beneath the tyres, and watched ruby taillights sparkle on the highway ahead, and observed the coming of dawn - a grey, sombre dawn that made the interior of the truck feel insular and cosy [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]