OCR Text |
Show 121 weeks." "You know, Sharon," Katie shifted in her seat, so that she was facing Sharon, "today is a funny day for me." She hesitated, until the silence grew heavy; it was rare for Katie to search for words. "It was eighteen years ago today-November twelfth-that my mother died." Sharon felt her stomach clench, like a fist-she wasn't sure that she wanted to talk like this with Katie, she wasn't sure at all. "I was seventeen. Seventeen years old. You're seventeen, aren't you?" "Yes," Sharon said guardedly, "Eighteen in February." "So I was your age. You know how I remember the date? I was married the same day, the same damn day, to my first husband. But I didn't find out my mother had died until the next day. They called me on the honeymoon. They had a hell of a time getting hold of us." Katie laughed, a hard chuckle. Vlt was just as well, I always thought." Sharon was suddenly curious-but she would have to be careful, that Katie did not involve her in some way. "I always felt," Katie said looking out the open window, away from Sharon, "that we had something in common, you and me. Our mothers dying like that, when we were still teenagers." There it was, Sharon thought, what she had feared: Katie was trying to involve her, trying to change their relationship. She would not allow Katie to do that, she was determined. "But then," Katie continued, "it really wasn't the same. You were younger, a lot younger in certain ways. And then you were with your mom right up until-well, until the end. Me, I left home when I |