OCR Text |
Show 232 had been out in the hall, there had been no room elsewhere for her; she had been almost incoherent-she had not even recognized Sharon. From her feebleness then-the nurses had to spoon feed her-Sharon, like everyone else, had assumed that she would die. "Who are you?" Granny said to her. "This is Sharon," Peggy said, "You remember Sharon-Walt's daughter." "Oh," Granny said, confused. Sharon hugged her to her breast, the dry smallness of her. "Sharon-Walter's daughter," Granny said. "No, Walter's daughter is but a small thing-this high." She held her hand out. "Not any more, Granny. That was years ago. A long time ago. I've grown up now." Granny looked her up and down. "Grown up, have yeah?" she said. "Well, you can never tell. You can never tell." She shook her head-it was all beyond her, not worth thinking about too deeply-she turned to Peggy, "You'd better check that turkey," she said, "or it's going to burn up on you." "Well, damn my hide," Peggy said, "but I think you're right." Everyone laughed-Carla, Sharon noticed, smiled good-naturedly -and they all went inside, where Carla followed Peggy to the kitchen. It had been over three years since Sharon had been here in this living room-since before her mother had died-it seemed smaller. Partly, it was the Christmas tree; it wasn't a large tree, but the overstuffed chair-which Lynn was now sitting in-had been scooted over near the door to make space for it, so that the room was a bit cluttered, a bit |