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Show 298 Lorin nodded. "What about you?" she asked. "I mean what do you do now while you're waiting for him and everything?" "It probably won't be very long, actually," he said. "Probably not more than a day or two. I'll probably have to help Elder Beyer. He's the district president. Something." They were standing on a grand-piano-shaped slab of concrete that a former owner of the house had poured for a back porch. The porch had gotten no farther than the pouring and hardening. It dropped off abruptly, forming a sharp edge. Dead crabgrass clung to the edges. Lorin looked at the wedge of mud where she had scraped the sole of her tennis shoes and suddenly realized he was passing his attache case back and forth from one hand to the other and that his palms were slick. "Have to be chaperoned, huh?" she said. "It wouldn't do to be turned loose on the streets," he said. "I guess I'm so used to seeing you with somebody that it's a little strange to see you by yourself." "It does feel odd," he said. "I may go home and hide in bed." "I wonder if Richard and I should go visit him in the hospital," she said. "I don't think he'd know you were there. He hardly knew I was. He'd probably appreciate it." She brushed off a flat coin of mud from her pantleg with the edge of the trowel. "Of course he might be better when you got there," he added. "Maybe we should wait," she said. "That might be better," he agreed. |
