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move in three weeks. And why bring up a date before she's even stepped inside? |
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Terry pulled open the screen door and wondered how Calvin must have felt when he first laid eyes on the placelike Moses glimpsing the promised land. |
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They had been living in a four-room flat in a congested and depressed part of Watertown, a place that had grown cramped once Matty was born. For over a year they had looked in Carleton and neighboring towns. Then, coincidentally, Beverly Otis called. Calvin came out on his own, took one look and offered the widow her asking price before she came to her senses or before anybody else topped his bid. |
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"The steal of the century," Beverly had proclaimed. By the time he brought Terry out, it was a done deal. He had bought the Samborsky place for a song, unaware, of course, of the history of the Samborskys in that house. |
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Terry led the way in, her head pounding. |
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Matty was on his knees in the back closet when they entered the kitchen. "Mom, where's my glove? I can't find it." He had Little League practice after school. |
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"Look under your bed?" said Terry, and introduced Mrs. Manning as a fellow environmental campaigner. |
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He gave a perfunctory wave, then bounded up stairs. He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve turtleneck. He looked too warm for the day. Terry had given up pushing him to wear one of the beautiful polo shirts she had spent a fortune on. She'd settle on him just being civilized. The legendary teenage miserableness had struck early. |
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Terry opened the cupboards and drawers, pointing out their spaciousness and the energy-efficient appliances. The woman looked around in a mechanical kind of way. She was more interested in the article under the refrigerator magnet: Terry's own op-ed piece in the Patriot Chronicle last month, the one in which she urged county residents to take a stand in forcing one of the area's worst polluters to clean up waterways fouled by years of illegal dumping. |
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She wished she had thought of removing it. No way to sell your |
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