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Show 57 "Yes. I would. I really would." "Well, we'll set it up for one of these first Sundays. Soon." She did want to go. But it was across town, at the Veterans Cemetery; over and back on the bus would take a full day-which she did not have, unless she skipped work on a Saturday. "You did get out to see Mom." "Not since we went out last April." The Catholic Cemetery on Pico Boulevard was close enough so that he could pick her up after mass and still get her home in time to prepare Sunday dinner. "Well, let's go out next Sunday and see Dad," he said. "I'd like that," she said. "I'll have to tell Katie that 1*11 be late. She won't like that." "I'll call her this week myself. I'll take care of it. Okay?" "Yes. That would be better." They sipped their coffee, relaxed now with each other. There was so much between them; she could not relax, could not be with anyone else in the world like she was now with him. And suddenly she wanted to tell him about last week, about that great numbness. But he would take it wrong, after her attack on him earlier. It was important to her that she tell him, but she could not think of how to say it. The one person to whom she was closest in the world, and she could not tell him; she felt a vague sense of failure, which she took care to conceal. They talked instead about school. She would be a senior this year, starting next week. How did that feel? Great, she said. She was really looking forward to it. |