Тесс Герритсен - Bloodstream стр 16.

Families.

Noah was watching TV when Claire got home. As she hung up her coat in the hallway, she recognized the theme music from The Simpsons cartoon playing in the other room, and she heard Homer Simpsons loud burp and Lisa Simpsons mutter of disgust. Then she heard her son laugh, and she thought: Im so glad my son still laughs at cartoons.

She went into the front parlor and saw Noah flopped back against the couch cushions, his face briefly lit up with laughter. He looked at her, but didnt say anything.

She sat down beside him and propped her feet up on the coffee table, next to his. Big feet, little feet, she thought with quiet amusement. Noahs feet had grown so huge, they almost looked like a clowns beside hers.

On the TV, an enormously fat Homer was bouncing around in a flowery muumuu, and shoveling food into his mouth.

Noah laughed again, and so did Claire. This was exactly the way she wanted to spend the rest of the evening. They would watch TV together, and eat popcorn for dinner. She leaned toward him, and they affectionately bumped heads together.

Im sorry Mom, he said.

Its okay, Honey. Im sorry I was late picking you up?

Grandma Elliot called. A little while ago?

Oh? Does she want me to call her back?

I guess. He watched the TV for a while, his silence stretching through the string of commercials. Then he said, Grandma wanted to make sure we were okay tonight?

Claire gave him a puzzled look. Why?

Its Dads birthday.

On the TV, Homer Simpson in his flowered muumuu had hijacked an ice cream truck and was driving it at breakneck speed, gobbling ice cream the whole way. Claire watched in stunned silence. Today was your birthday, she thought. Youve been dead only two years, and already were losing bits and pieces of your memory.

Oh god, Noah, she whispered. I cant believe it. I completely forgot.

She felt his head droop heavily against her shoulder, And he said, with quiet shame, So did I.

Sitting in her bedroom, Claire returned Margaret Elliots call. Claire had always liked her mother-in-law, and through the years, their affection had grown to the point that she felt far closer to Margaret than she ever had to her own coldly aloof parents. Sometimes it seemed to Claire that everything she knew about love, about passion, had been taught to her by the Elliot family.

Hi, Mom. Its me, said Claire.

Sixty-two degrees and sunny in Baltimore today, Margaret replied, and Claire had to laugh. Ever since shed moved to Tranquility this had been the running joke between them, their comparison of weather reports. Margaret had not wanted her to leave Baltimore. You have no idea what real cold is, shed told Claire, and Im going to keep reminding you of what youve left behind.

Thirty-five degrees here, Claire dutifully reported. She looked out her window. Its getting colder. Darker.

Did Noah tell you I called earlier?

Yes. And were doing fine. We really are.

Are you?

Claire said nothing. Margaret had the uncanny talent for reading emotions from just the simple inflection of ones voice, and already she had sensed something amiss.

Noah told me he wants to come back here, said Margaret.

We just moved.

You can always change your mind.

Not now. Ive made too many commitments here. To this new practice, the house.

Those are commitments to things, Claire.

No, theyre really commitments to Noah. I need to stay here, for him. She paused, suddenly aware that, as much as she loved Margaret, she was feeling a little irritated. She was also weary of the gentle but repeated hints that she should return to Baltimore. Its always hard for a kid to make a fresh start, but hell adjust. Hes too young to know What he wants.

Thats true, I suppose. What about you? Do you still want to be there?

Why are you asking, Mom?

Because I know it would be hard for me, moving to a new place. Leaving behind my friends.

Claire stared at the dresser mirror, at her own tired face. At the reflection of her bedroom, which still had few pictures on the wall. It was merely a collection of furniture, a place to sleep, not yet part of a real home.

A widow needs her friends, Claire, said Margaret.

Maybe that was one of the reasons I had to leave.

What do you mean?

Thats what I was to everyone-the widow. Id walk into my clinic, and people would give me those sad and sympathetic looks. They were all afraid to laugh or tell jokes when I was around. And no one, no one ever dared to talk about Peter.

Its as if they thought Id break down in sobs if they just mentioned his name.

There was silence on the line, and Claire suddenly regretted having spoken so frankly.

It doesnt mean I ever stop missing him, Mom, she said softly. I see him every time I look at Noahs face. The resemblance is so amazing. Its like watching Peter grow up.

In more ways than one, Margaret said, and Claire was relieved to hear the warmth had not left her mother-in-laws voice. Peter wasnt the easiest child to raise. I dont think I ever told you about all the trouble he got into when he was Noahs age. Thats where Noah gets his streak of mischief, you know. From Peter.