excerpt
Supper proved as silent as the ride from town but Sarah, tired
and perplexed, did not care. Too weary even to eat, she picked at
her food. She had made a salad from the potatoes but when she
explained the change in menu to Ben he only grunted.
He ate quickly. When he finished he pushed his plate away and
got up. At the sideboard he took a can of tobacco and a pipe and,
seating himself across from her again, proceeded to fill the pipe
from the can.
Sarah watched him silently, noting the deftness of his long fingers.
As though sensing that he was being observed he looked at her
directly for the second time that day. The dark eyes had softened.
“If you’re worried ’bout being here alone, don’t be. Mrs. Thompson
promised she’ll come tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know. It’s all right, Ben.”
He got up and walked into the living room as Sarah began to
clear the table. The aroma of pipe tobacco followed her into the
pantry, forcing her to swallow hard against the nostalgia that suddenly
filled her throat. Danny had smoked a pipe.
There was no point in trying to wash the dishes in cold water so
she stacked them in the pantry and wiped off the oilcloth on the
table before going to the living room door.
Ben sat in a wooden armchair beside a large dining table, a newspaper
in front of his face. He had removed his boots at the back
door when he came in, and now he sat in his stockinged feet. He
still wore his overalls. A domed radio, near to his hand on the table,
crackled out the nine o’clock news.
This room, although austere, was as tidy as the others. The linoleum
which covered the floor had been recently swept. A brown
leather couch, similar to the one in the kitchen, sat along the wall to
the right of the door. On the opposite wall stood a buffet which held
a mantel clock, a few china ornaments and vases, as well as a tarnished
silver teapot. The heavy green drapes at the windows looked
dusty and faded but tonight Sarah did not care about drapes.
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 