[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.The first two had come out wrong, with extra beads in silly places.Claire interrupted her with a, “Here, Pat, do this.” Patsy smiled and took the thread from Claire; after a few tries, she slipped the bead into place, then handed it back to Claire.Claire had insisted that they take the class despite her arthritis.“My joints might be stiff but they still work,” Claire had said in her heavy New York accent.Patsy spent most of her time in class doing both her and Claire’s work.But she didn’t mind.For months after John’s fatal stroke, Patsy had spent long hours staring at nothing, trying to remember what it had felt like to be Mrs.John Burke.John Junior tried to get her to make plans.Did she want to move back to Kansas to be with her sisters? Did she want to move to Phoenix to be near Harold? John Junior yelled at her, thinking that her hearing aid was broken.What he didn’t understand was that she didn’t care.What did it matter where she was? She was lost without John.After several weeks, John Junior started to make plans to move her to Albuquerque, to live with him and his new wife.Patsy simply accepted this.She wandered around her house, thinking about packing things up into boxes but not doing it.Claire Schoen showed up at Patsy’s door with a single, loud knock one day.When Patsy opened it, she saw a woman dressed in white stretch pants, a big orange T-shirt, and a baseball cap.She had seen the woman before.She knew her name.She lived next door.They had said hi to each other over the fence, but that was it.Patsy had grown up on a farm, where you stayed out of other people’s business.“Hey, Pat,” Claire said.“Let’s go for a walk.”Patsy started to say no, pointing out that she had no tennis shoes.Claire glanced at the orthopedic shoes Patsy was wearing and said, “What you’ve got on is fine.Let’s make hay while the sun shines.”Patsy didn’t know what else to say, so she did as she’d been told.They walked in the warm sun, Claire pumping away loudly, saying, “Gotta keep these old bones moving,” and doing most of the talking.She talked about her husband, who had died twenty years earlier, saying, “Bless his heart,” and looking genuinely sad.She talked about some man named Henry from the senior center who was making moon eyes at her.As Claire talked, Patsy realized that they had things in common.Both had two sons, both had had hip replacements, both were the widows of police officers, both did their own sewing, and both played bridge.After an hour, they were back at Patsy’s front door.Claire said, “See you tomorrow, Pat.Same time,” and went huffing back to her house.That had been three years ago.Since then, Claire had been trying to show Patsy how to “empower” herself.As Claire pointed out, in John’s death, God had granted Patsy something.What was that saying? Every time a door closes, somewhere a window opens? Or, as Claire put it, “We might be old, but we ain’t dead yet.”Patsy now made her meals when she wanted to, went to bed when she wanted to.She dressed in T-shirts and, once in a while, ate spicy burritos with green chile—the kind John had never liked.It gave her heartburn, but she didn’t care.A little Pepcid AC and she was as good as new.Not that she didn’t still miss John.Their life had been … dependable.He’d been a good provider and father.John had always said that Patsy took care of the emotions in the family and he took care of the money.He had left her with a good pension and health insurance.She still drove his last car, a Buick Skylark, but she was thinking of trading it in for one of those cute SUVs everyone in town had.Claire had even talked her into using a laundry service.“Pat,” Claire had said, “in your lifetime you have hung out more sheets than the town bed wetter.” So Patsy, a former Kansas farm wife, had her laundry sent out.It made her feel mischievous.Claire had said that the next thing Patsy needed to learn was how to pay her own bills.And Patsy was thinking about getting her first job.Maybe as a cashier at Hobby Lobby.She was going to stop by and get an application tomorrow, when she and Claire went on their weekly shopping trip.Patsy slipped another bead onto the necklace, while Claire started a whole new stream of swearing.Patsy looked at her nervously.One of the other students had complained to the teacher last week that Claire swore so loudly that it made him uncomfortable.Claire did everything loudly because she was deaf in one ear but refused to wear a hearing aid.“I’m not sticking something in my ear where it don’t belong,” she would say with a snort.But Patsy thought she was just being stubborn.Claire’s voice was getting louder and a student sitting in front of them turned to stare.Patsy poked Claire in the arm, saying, “Shush.” Claire turned and made a face at her and the two started giggling.Gil walked into his house, making sure to dead-bolt the door against the broad daylight.He heard the refrigerator open and found his wife making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the kitchen.She wasn’t even startled when he said hello.Susan had a part-time job doing accounting work for a gravel company in town.They had talked about her going back full-time, but she wanted to be around for their two daughters, Joy and Therese.He sat on one of the stools near the counter and listened as she told him about an afternoon field trip she was going on to Bandelier National Monument with Joy’s fifth-grade class.Bandelier was only forty-five minutes away.Gil and the girls had been there dozens of times when they were younger.They would walk around the Anasazi Indian ruins, looking for pieces of pottery in the dirt.When Joy was little she had called them Anastazi Indians, making the word sound Italian.When was the last time they had gone there? He couldn’t remember.Susan sealed the sandwich in a Ziploc bag and put it into a paper sack with an apple.He handed her the car keys as she grabbed the bag and kissed him a quick good-bye.He reached up and brushed the hair out of her eyes as she moved away, heading out the garage door to her car.She called over her shoulder, “Don’t forget to get that St.Joseph statue from your mom when you see her tonight,” then closed the door behind her.Susan wanted the statue so that she could bury it upside down in the backyard, to help sell their house.Her sister had done it and sold her home within a week [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl milosnikstop.keep.pl
.The first two had come out wrong, with extra beads in silly places.Claire interrupted her with a, “Here, Pat, do this.” Patsy smiled and took the thread from Claire; after a few tries, she slipped the bead into place, then handed it back to Claire.Claire had insisted that they take the class despite her arthritis.“My joints might be stiff but they still work,” Claire had said in her heavy New York accent.Patsy spent most of her time in class doing both her and Claire’s work.But she didn’t mind.For months after John’s fatal stroke, Patsy had spent long hours staring at nothing, trying to remember what it had felt like to be Mrs.John Burke.John Junior tried to get her to make plans.Did she want to move back to Kansas to be with her sisters? Did she want to move to Phoenix to be near Harold? John Junior yelled at her, thinking that her hearing aid was broken.What he didn’t understand was that she didn’t care.What did it matter where she was? She was lost without John.After several weeks, John Junior started to make plans to move her to Albuquerque, to live with him and his new wife.Patsy simply accepted this.She wandered around her house, thinking about packing things up into boxes but not doing it.Claire Schoen showed up at Patsy’s door with a single, loud knock one day.When Patsy opened it, she saw a woman dressed in white stretch pants, a big orange T-shirt, and a baseball cap.She had seen the woman before.She knew her name.She lived next door.They had said hi to each other over the fence, but that was it.Patsy had grown up on a farm, where you stayed out of other people’s business.“Hey, Pat,” Claire said.“Let’s go for a walk.”Patsy started to say no, pointing out that she had no tennis shoes.Claire glanced at the orthopedic shoes Patsy was wearing and said, “What you’ve got on is fine.Let’s make hay while the sun shines.”Patsy didn’t know what else to say, so she did as she’d been told.They walked in the warm sun, Claire pumping away loudly, saying, “Gotta keep these old bones moving,” and doing most of the talking.She talked about her husband, who had died twenty years earlier, saying, “Bless his heart,” and looking genuinely sad.She talked about some man named Henry from the senior center who was making moon eyes at her.As Claire talked, Patsy realized that they had things in common.Both had two sons, both had had hip replacements, both were the widows of police officers, both did their own sewing, and both played bridge.After an hour, they were back at Patsy’s front door.Claire said, “See you tomorrow, Pat.Same time,” and went huffing back to her house.That had been three years ago.Since then, Claire had been trying to show Patsy how to “empower” herself.As Claire pointed out, in John’s death, God had granted Patsy something.What was that saying? Every time a door closes, somewhere a window opens? Or, as Claire put it, “We might be old, but we ain’t dead yet.”Patsy now made her meals when she wanted to, went to bed when she wanted to.She dressed in T-shirts and, once in a while, ate spicy burritos with green chile—the kind John had never liked.It gave her heartburn, but she didn’t care.A little Pepcid AC and she was as good as new.Not that she didn’t still miss John.Their life had been … dependable.He’d been a good provider and father.John had always said that Patsy took care of the emotions in the family and he took care of the money.He had left her with a good pension and health insurance.She still drove his last car, a Buick Skylark, but she was thinking of trading it in for one of those cute SUVs everyone in town had.Claire had even talked her into using a laundry service.“Pat,” Claire had said, “in your lifetime you have hung out more sheets than the town bed wetter.” So Patsy, a former Kansas farm wife, had her laundry sent out.It made her feel mischievous.Claire had said that the next thing Patsy needed to learn was how to pay her own bills.And Patsy was thinking about getting her first job.Maybe as a cashier at Hobby Lobby.She was going to stop by and get an application tomorrow, when she and Claire went on their weekly shopping trip.Patsy slipped another bead onto the necklace, while Claire started a whole new stream of swearing.Patsy looked at her nervously.One of the other students had complained to the teacher last week that Claire swore so loudly that it made him uncomfortable.Claire did everything loudly because she was deaf in one ear but refused to wear a hearing aid.“I’m not sticking something in my ear where it don’t belong,” she would say with a snort.But Patsy thought she was just being stubborn.Claire’s voice was getting louder and a student sitting in front of them turned to stare.Patsy poked Claire in the arm, saying, “Shush.” Claire turned and made a face at her and the two started giggling.Gil walked into his house, making sure to dead-bolt the door against the broad daylight.He heard the refrigerator open and found his wife making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the kitchen.She wasn’t even startled when he said hello.Susan had a part-time job doing accounting work for a gravel company in town.They had talked about her going back full-time, but she wanted to be around for their two daughters, Joy and Therese.He sat on one of the stools near the counter and listened as she told him about an afternoon field trip she was going on to Bandelier National Monument with Joy’s fifth-grade class.Bandelier was only forty-five minutes away.Gil and the girls had been there dozens of times when they were younger.They would walk around the Anasazi Indian ruins, looking for pieces of pottery in the dirt.When Joy was little she had called them Anastazi Indians, making the word sound Italian.When was the last time they had gone there? He couldn’t remember.Susan sealed the sandwich in a Ziploc bag and put it into a paper sack with an apple.He handed her the car keys as she grabbed the bag and kissed him a quick good-bye.He reached up and brushed the hair out of her eyes as she moved away, heading out the garage door to her car.She called over her shoulder, “Don’t forget to get that St.Joseph statue from your mom when you see her tonight,” then closed the door behind her.Susan wanted the statue so that she could bury it upside down in the backyard, to help sell their house.Her sister had done it and sold her home within a week [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]