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Show 56 suggestion of a slouch. It was all those years of sitting at a school desk under a nun's gaze, she thought. He began to drum his fingers on the table. She sipped her coffee. He finally cleared his throat. "You were pretty vivid there a minute ago, Sis." "Well, you asked for it. You're pretty glad it turned out the way it has." "Yes. I guess I am." He paused for a moment. "But I hope we can always be as honest with one another." Again he paused, turning something over in his mind. "I went out to see Dad this morning," he said. A rush of feelings-ambivalent, contradictory-surged up within her. She steadied herself, holding them in check. "It's been a year next week, you know." There was a flat objectivity- a forced objectivity-in his voice. "Yes," she adopted the same flat tone, "I know. It seems longer than that." "It does in a way." He sipped his coffee. They carefully avoided each other's eyes. "How was it?" she finally asked. "Oh, it's nice," he said. "The lawns are all cut. Peaceful, I guess. So strange in a way. I never really think of Dad as having been in the service. And for him to be out there, among all those white crosses. Like I say, it's kind of strange." "You know I haven't been out," she said. "You haven't? No, I guess not. Would you like to go?" |