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Authors: Barbara Delinsky
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I'm gone? " "She won't. The vet said she had time."
"Not much."
"Hope, she's not dying today."
"Am I missing something here?
" Jack asked, looking from one to the other.
"Guinevere has a tumor Samantha explained. "The vet wanted to put her to sleep, but Hope wouldn't let him." So the cat was terminally ill.
Jack was wondering what else could go wrong when Hope looked up through her tears and said, "She's not in pain. If she was, I'd let the vet do it. But I love Guinevere, and she knows it. I want her to keep knowing it a little longer. What's wrong with that? " "Nothing Jack said.
Samantha disagreed. "Priorities she told her sister. "Mom's always talking about them. The thing is that Guinevere isn't dying today. If the accident hadn't happened, you'd have left her home and gone to school. So if you leave her home now, she won't know whether you're going to school or to visit Mom. But Mom will." Jack was thinking that she had put it well, and that maybe there was hope for his elder daughter yet, when she turned to him in distaste and said, "You're gonna shave and stuffbefore we go, aren't you, Dad? You look gross. " "Thank you he said. Patting Hope's shoulder, he pushed up from the floor and, needing fortification after�what? �an hour of sleep, went to put on a pot of coffee.
IT WAS EASIER said than done. He had explored the entire contents of both the fridge and the freezer in search of coffee beans before Samantha said, "In the canister." He looked up. Both sisters were at the kitchen door, Hope a bit behind but watching as closely as Samantha. He tried to sound authoritative.
"She always kept the beans in the fridge."
"Not anymore Samantha replied, not loudly but with even greater authority. Rachel always did the same thing.
Knowing better than to question that tone, he pushed the fridge door shut. Rachel's canisters were brightly painted ceramic vegetables, all in a line on the counter. He opened a tomato and found sugar, opened a cabbage and found macaroni, opened an eggplant and found little nibbles of something he couldn't identify.
"Cat treats, Hope coached. "Try the cuke."
"The cuke has to hold spaghetti he said and opened a fat yellow pepper to reveal flour. The cuke was the only thing left. "This isn't Rachel he argued, feeling a little dumb as he measured spoonfuls of beans into a coffee mill. "A cuke is made for spaghetti. It's common sense.
That's its shape."
"Mom says you have to break out of the mold sometimes, Samantha said.
"When are we leaving? " "As soon as I have coffee and a shower. " "How long is that? " The kitchen clock�another ceramic thing that was no doubt also cast by Rachel's hand�was a beaver with whiskers that said it was seven-forty.
"Twenty minutes." He arched a brow at Samantha. "Can you handle that?
" "You don't have to be snide. I was just asking. We have to shower and dress, too, y'know, and if I'm not going to school, I need someone to take notes and get papers and give messages for me, so I have calls to make." She left, pulling her sister along with her Jack had calls to make, too, but they would have to wait. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
chapter four.
HAD JACK KNOWN of any other road to take back to Monterey, he would have, but there wasn't a one. Samantha sat in the passenger's seat, hair wet from the shower, mouth clamped shut, eyes riveted to the road.
Hope was stuffed in what passed for the BMW's backseat, staring out between the front buckets, her knuckles white on buttersoft black leather by her sister's shoulder, her cowboy boots planted on either side of the hump.
Jack knew what they were thinking. He was thinking it, too, hoping �praying�that Caltrans had finished its cleanup and left. Not knowing what else to do, he turned on the radio to create a distraction, and it did, for a minute.
"Just what we want to hear Samantha remarked in response to an NPR report on starvation and death in another little African state.
Between
"Not much."
"Hope, she's not dying today."
"Am I missing something here?
" Jack asked, looking from one to the other.
"Guinevere has a tumor Samantha explained. "The vet wanted to put her to sleep, but Hope wouldn't let him." So the cat was terminally ill.
Jack was wondering what else could go wrong when Hope looked up through her tears and said, "She's not in pain. If she was, I'd let the vet do it. But I love Guinevere, and she knows it. I want her to keep knowing it a little longer. What's wrong with that? " "Nothing Jack said.
Samantha disagreed. "Priorities she told her sister. "Mom's always talking about them. The thing is that Guinevere isn't dying today. If the accident hadn't happened, you'd have left her home and gone to school. So if you leave her home now, she won't know whether you're going to school or to visit Mom. But Mom will." Jack was thinking that she had put it well, and that maybe there was hope for his elder daughter yet, when she turned to him in distaste and said, "You're gonna shave and stuffbefore we go, aren't you, Dad? You look gross. " "Thank you he said. Patting Hope's shoulder, he pushed up from the floor and, needing fortification after�what? �an hour of sleep, went to put on a pot of coffee.
IT WAS EASIER said than done. He had explored the entire contents of both the fridge and the freezer in search of coffee beans before Samantha said, "In the canister." He looked up. Both sisters were at the kitchen door, Hope a bit behind but watching as closely as Samantha. He tried to sound authoritative.
"She always kept the beans in the fridge."
"Not anymore Samantha replied, not loudly but with even greater authority. Rachel always did the same thing.
Knowing better than to question that tone, he pushed the fridge door shut. Rachel's canisters were brightly painted ceramic vegetables, all in a line on the counter. He opened a tomato and found sugar, opened a cabbage and found macaroni, opened an eggplant and found little nibbles of something he couldn't identify.
"Cat treats, Hope coached. "Try the cuke."
"The cuke has to hold spaghetti he said and opened a fat yellow pepper to reveal flour. The cuke was the only thing left. "This isn't Rachel he argued, feeling a little dumb as he measured spoonfuls of beans into a coffee mill. "A cuke is made for spaghetti. It's common sense.
That's its shape."
"Mom says you have to break out of the mold sometimes, Samantha said.
"When are we leaving? " "As soon as I have coffee and a shower. " "How long is that? " The kitchen clock�another ceramic thing that was no doubt also cast by Rachel's hand�was a beaver with whiskers that said it was seven-forty.
"Twenty minutes." He arched a brow at Samantha. "Can you handle that?
" "You don't have to be snide. I was just asking. We have to shower and dress, too, y'know, and if I'm not going to school, I need someone to take notes and get papers and give messages for me, so I have calls to make." She left, pulling her sister along with her Jack had calls to make, too, but they would have to wait. He had a feeling it was going to be a long day.
chapter four.
HAD JACK KNOWN of any other road to take back to Monterey, he would have, but there wasn't a one. Samantha sat in the passenger's seat, hair wet from the shower, mouth clamped shut, eyes riveted to the road.
Hope was stuffed in what passed for the BMW's backseat, staring out between the front buckets, her knuckles white on buttersoft black leather by her sister's shoulder, her cowboy boots planted on either side of the hump.
Jack knew what they were thinking. He was thinking it, too, hoping �praying�that Caltrans had finished its cleanup and left. Not knowing what else to do, he turned on the radio to create a distraction, and it did, for a minute.
"Just what we want to hear Samantha remarked in response to an NPR report on starvation and death in another little African state.
Between
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