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Are You Afraid Of The Dark :: Sheldon Sidney
Страница: 15 из 173Paul Deacon, the owner of the art gallery that displayed Diane's work, came to the apartment. He put his arms around Diane and said, "I've been trying to reach you, but-" "I know." "I'm so sad about Richard. He was a rare gentleman. But, Diane, you can't shut yourself away like this. People are waiting to see more of your beautiful work." "I can't. It's not important anymore, Paul. Nothing is. I'm through." She could not be persuaded.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING DAY, when the doorbell rang, Diane reluctantly went to the door.
She looked through the peephole, and there seemed to be a small crowd outside.
Puzzled, Diane opened the door. There were a dozen young boys in the hallway.
One of them was holding a little bouquet of flowers. "Good morning, Mrs.
Stevens." He handed the bouquet to Diane.
"Thank you." She suddenly remembered who they were. They were members of the Little League team that Richard had coached.
Diane had received countless baskets of flowers, cards of condolence, and e-mails, but this was the most touching gift of all.
"Come in," Diane said.
The boys trooped into the room. "We just wanted to tell you how bad we feel." "Your husband was a great guy." "He was really cool." "And he was an awesome coach." It was all Diane could do to hold back her tears. "Thank you. He thought you were great, too. He was very proud of all of you." She took a deep breath.
"Would you like some soft drinks or-?" Tim Holm, the ten-year-old who had caught the fly ball, spoke up. "No, thanks, Mrs. Stevens. We just wanted to tell you that we'll miss him, too. We all chipped in for the flowers. They cost twelve dollars." "Anyway, we just wanted you to know how sorry we are." Diane looked at them and said quietly, "Thank you, boys. I know how much Richard would appreciate your coming here." She watched as they mumbled their good-byes and left.
As Diane observed their departure, she remembered the first time she had watched Richard coach the boys. He had talked to them as though he were their age, in language they understood, and they loved him for it. That was the day I started to fall in love with him.
Outside, Diane could hear the rumble of thunder and the first drops of rain beginning to roll down against the windows, like God's tears. Rain. It had been on a holiday weekend.
..
* * *
"DO YOU LIKE picnics?" Richard asked.
"I adore them." He smiled. "I knew it. I'll plan a little picnic for us. I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon." It was a beautiful, sunny day. Richard had arranged for a picnic in the middle of Central Park.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING DAY, when the doorbell rang, Diane reluctantly went to the door.
She looked through the peephole, and there seemed to be a small crowd outside.
Puzzled, Diane opened the door. There were a dozen young boys in the hallway.
One of them was holding a little bouquet of flowers. "Good morning, Mrs.
Stevens." He handed the bouquet to Diane.
"Thank you." She suddenly remembered who they were. They were members of the Little League team that Richard had coached.
Diane had received countless baskets of flowers, cards of condolence, and e-mails, but this was the most touching gift of all.
"Come in," Diane said.
The boys trooped into the room. "We just wanted to tell you how bad we feel." "Your husband was a great guy." "He was really cool." "And he was an awesome coach." It was all Diane could do to hold back her tears. "Thank you. He thought you were great, too. He was very proud of all of you." She took a deep breath.
"Would you like some soft drinks or-?" Tim Holm, the ten-year-old who had caught the fly ball, spoke up. "No, thanks, Mrs. Stevens. We just wanted to tell you that we'll miss him, too. We all chipped in for the flowers. They cost twelve dollars." "Anyway, we just wanted you to know how sorry we are." Diane looked at them and said quietly, "Thank you, boys. I know how much Richard would appreciate your coming here." She watched as they mumbled their good-byes and left.
As Diane observed their departure, she remembered the first time she had watched Richard coach the boys. He had talked to them as though he were their age, in language they understood, and they loved him for it. That was the day I started to fall in love with him.
Outside, Diane could hear the rumble of thunder and the first drops of rain beginning to roll down against the windows, like God's tears. Rain. It had been on a holiday weekend.
..
* * *
"DO YOU LIKE picnics?" Richard asked.
"I adore them." He smiled. "I knew it. I'll plan a little picnic for us. I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon." It was a beautiful, sunny day. Richard had arranged for a picnic in the middle of Central Park.