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Show 262 Leaving Sharon alone in the kitchen. With a strange feeling of being alone. She turned back to her dishes, her hands working of themselves, without having to think about what they should be doing-that was when she enjoyed doing housework, when it seemed to do itself, when her presence was only required as a catalyst, to give it the right direction. That strange feeling-just after Oscar and Katie had left-it surprised her. For usually, she felt a great relief when one of them left-as if she were being restored to herself. But this morning when they had left like that together, it had almost seemed that part of herself had left with them. She hadn't felt quite like that, before, with them. It didn't bother her; but it did make her vaguely wonder, why she felt that way. Before she finished the skillet, she heard David on the stairs. He came in, and although a comb had been passed through his hair, those two cowlicks remained gnarled, resistant, two stubby red horns which gave his face that mean, belligerent cast. "Have they gone yet?" "Yes," she said, "fifteen or twenty minutes ago." "Good." He slouched into a kitchen chair. "Would you like some eggs and toast?" "No. I'll fix myself some cereal in a minute." "There's some juice in the fridge." "Okay." He watched her, with his sharp green eyes, finishing the dishes. "They said you should be ready to go when they get back." |
