"Brooks, Terry - Knight of the Word 02 - A Knight of the Word 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Terry)

`So what are you really doing here?' she pressed him, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the kitchen table as she reached for the coffee-pot and a cup. The coffee steamed in the morning air as she poured it.
He shrugged, giving her a furtive look. `I saw your car, knew you were home, thought I should say hello. I know it's early, but I was afraid I might miss you'
She handed him the coffee and motioned for him to sit down, but he remained standing. `I've been waiting to hear from you,' she said pointedly.
`You know me, I don't like to rush things' He looked away quickly, unable to meet her steady gaze. He sipped gingerly from his cup, then made a face. `What is this stuff?'
Nest lost her patience. `Look, did you come here to insult me, or do you need something, or are you just lonely again?'
He gave her his hurt puppy look. `None of the above: He glanced down at the real estate papers, which were sitting on the counter next to him, then looked up at her again. `I just wanted to see you. I didn't see you all summer, what with you off running over hill and dale and cinder track:
`Robert, don't start . .
`Okay, I know, 1 know. But it's true. I haven't seen you since your grandfather's funeral:
And whose fault is that, do you think?'
He pushed his glasses further up on his nose and screwed up his mouth. 'Okay, all right. It's my fault. I haven't seen you because I knew how badly I messed up:
`You were a jerk, Robert'
He flinched as if struck. `I didn't mean anything.'
`You didn't?' A slow flush worked its way up her neck and into her cheeks. 'My grandfather's funeral service was barely finished and there You were, making a serious effort to grope me. I don't know what that was all about, but I didn't appreciate it one bit'
He shook his head rapidly. `I wasn't trying to grope you exactly'.
`Yes, you were. Exactly. You might have done yourself some good, you know, if you'd stuck around to apologise afterward instead of running off
His laugh was forced. `I was running for my life. You just about took my head off.
She stared at him, waiting. She knew how he felt about her, how he had always felt about her. She knew this was difficult for him and she wasn't making it any easier. But his misguided attempt at an intimate relationship was strictly one-sided and she had to put a stop to it now or whatever was left of their friendship would go right out the window.
He took a deep breath. `I made a big mistake, and I'm sorry. I guess I just thought you needed . .. that you wanted someone to . . . Well, I just wasn't thinking, that's all.' He pushed back his long hair nervously. 'I'm not so good at stuff like that, and you, well, you know how I feel.. ' He stopped and looked down at his feet. `It was stupid. I'm really sorry.'
She didn't say anything, letting him dangle in the wind a little longer, letting him wonder, He looked up at her after a minute, meeting her gaze squarely for the first time. `I don't know what else to say, Nest. I'm sorry. Are we still friends?'
Even though he had grown taller and gotten broader through the shoulders, she still saw him as being fourteen. There was a little-boy look and sound to him that she thought he might never entirely escape.
'Are we?' he pressed.
She gave him a considering look. `Yes, Robert, we are. We always will be, I hope. But we're just friends, okay? Don't try to make it into anything else. If you do, you're just going to make me mad all over again:
He looked doubtful, but nodded anyway. `Okay: He glanced down again at the real estate papers. Are you going to sell the house?'
`Robert!
'Well, that's what it looks like:
`I don't care what it looks like, it's none of your business!' Irritated at herself for being so abrupt, she added, `Look, I haven't decided anything yet'
He put his coffee cup in the exact centre of the papers, making a ring. `I don't think you should sell'
She snatched the cup away. `Robert . .''
`Well, I don't. I think you should let some time pass before you do anything: He held up his hands in a placating gesture. `Wait, let me finish. My dad says you should never make any big changes right after someone you love dies. You should wait at least a year. You should give yourself time to grieve, to let everything settle so you know what you really want. I don't thinly he's right about much, but I think he might be right about this'
She pictured Robert's father in her mind, a spectacled, gentle man who was employed as a chemical engineer but spent all his free time engaged in gardening and lawn care. Robert used to call him Mr. Green Jeans and swore that his father would have been happier if his son had been born a plant.
`Robert; she said gently, `that's very good advice'
He stared at her in surprise.
`I mean it. I'll give it some thought'
She put the coffee cups aside. Robert was annoying, but she liked him anyway. He was funny and smart and fearless. Maybe more to the point, she could depend on him. He had stood up for her five years earlier when her father had come back into her life. If not for Robert, her grandfather would never have found her trussed up in the caves below the Sinnissippi Park cliffs. It was Robert who had come after her on the night she had confronted her father, when it seemed she was all alone. She had knocked the pins out from under him for his trouble, leaving him senseless on the ground while she went on alone. But he had cared enough to follow.
She felt a momentary pang at the memory. Robert was the only real friend she had left from those days.
`I have to go back to school tonight; she said. `How long do you have?'
He shrugged. 'Day after tomorrow:
'You came all the way home from California for the weekend?'
He looked uncomfortable. 'Well..
`To visit your parents?'
`Nest..'
`You cant say it, can you?'
He shook his head and blushed. `No'
She nodded. `Just so you don't think I can't see through you like glass. You just watch yourself, buster'
He looked down at his feet, embarrassed. She liked him like this-sweet and vulnerable. `You want to walk over to Gran and Grandpa's graves with me, put some flowers in their urns?'
He brightened at once. `Sure'
She was already heading for the hall closet. `Let me get my coat, Mr. Smooth'
`Jeez' he said.