JК
Bag of Bones :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 167 из 425“When you were reading to Ki, you looked both happy and sad atthe same time. I only saw her once, your wife, but I thought she was very beautiful.” I had been thinking about the touch of our hands, concentrating on that. Now I forgot about it entirely. “When did you see her? And where? Do you remember?” She smiled as if those were very silly questions. “I remember. It was at the ballfield, on the night I met my husband.” Very slowly I withdrew my hand from hers. So far as I knew, neither Jo nor I had been near TR-90 all that summer of ’94. . but what I knew was apparently wrong. Jo had been down on a Tuesday in early July. She had even gone to the softball game. “Are you sure it was Jo?” I asked. Mattie was looking off toward the road. It wasn’t my wife she was thinking about; I would have bet the house and lot on it—either house, either lot. It was Lance. Maybe that was good.
If she was thinking about him, she probably wouldn’t look too closely at me, and I didn’t think I had much control of my expression just then.
She might have seen more on my face than I wanted to show. “Yes,” she said. “I was standing with Jenna McCoy and Helen Geary—this was after Lance helped me with a keg of beer I got stuck in the mud and then asked if I was going for pizza with the rest of them after the game—and Jenna said, “Look, it’s Mrs. Noonan,’ and Helen said, “She’s the writer’s wife, Mattie, isn’t that a cool blouse?’ The blouse was all covered with blue roses.” I remembered it very well. Jo liked it because it was a joke—there are no blue roses, not in nature and not in cultivation.
Once when she was wearing it she had thrown her arms extravagantly around my neck, swooned her hips forward against mine, and cried that she was my blue rose and I must stroke her until she turned pink.
Remembering that hurt, and badly. “She was over on the third-base side, behind the chickenwire screen,” Mattie said, “with some guy who was wearing an old brown jacket with patches on the elbows. They were laughing together over something, and then she turned her head a little and looked right at me.” She was quiet for a moment, standing there beside my car in her red dress. She raised her hair off the back of her neck, held it, then let it drop again. “Right at me. Really seeing me.
And she had a look about her… she’d just been laughing but this look was sad, somehow. It was as if she knew me. Then the guy put his arm around her waist and they walked away.” Silence except for the crickets and the far-off drone of a truck.
If she was thinking about him, she probably wouldn’t look too closely at me, and I didn’t think I had much control of my expression just then.
She might have seen more on my face than I wanted to show. “Yes,” she said. “I was standing with Jenna McCoy and Helen Geary—this was after Lance helped me with a keg of beer I got stuck in the mud and then asked if I was going for pizza with the rest of them after the game—and Jenna said, “Look, it’s Mrs. Noonan,’ and Helen said, “She’s the writer’s wife, Mattie, isn’t that a cool blouse?’ The blouse was all covered with blue roses.” I remembered it very well. Jo liked it because it was a joke—there are no blue roses, not in nature and not in cultivation.
Once when she was wearing it she had thrown her arms extravagantly around my neck, swooned her hips forward against mine, and cried that she was my blue rose and I must stroke her until she turned pink.
Remembering that hurt, and badly. “She was over on the third-base side, behind the chickenwire screen,” Mattie said, “with some guy who was wearing an old brown jacket with patches on the elbows. They were laughing together over something, and then she turned her head a little and looked right at me.” She was quiet for a moment, standing there beside my car in her red dress. She raised her hair off the back of her neck, held it, then let it drop again. “Right at me. Really seeing me.
And she had a look about her… she’d just been laughing but this look was sad, somehow. It was as if she knew me. Then the guy put his arm around her waist and they walked away.” Silence except for the crickets and the far-off drone of a truck.