"MaryJanice Davidson - Sleeping with the Fishes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

the living room. Then she turned on her daughter.
"Fredrika."
"Mom, put yourself in my fins."
"Fredricka Shea Bimm."
"Mom, he was fucking my mother. He's a motherfucker! What would you have done?"
"Not tossed him halfway across the room," her mother snapped, then puffed her bangs out of her
face. "What in the world is wrong with you? You're almost thirty, for heaven's sake."
"And you're almost fifty! Way too old to beтАФto beтАФyech."
Her mother stuck a stubby finger in Fred's face. Everything about Moon Bimm was short and
stubby, compared to Fred's long lankiness. Even Fred's nose was long, and while Mrs. Bimm's
mouth was permanently turned up in a smile, Fred's everyday expression was a scowl. If Fred
hadn't seen the birth certificate, she would have doubted any birth relation to Moon Bimm.
"Violence. Language. Manners. All unacceptable."
"I overreacted, okay? I'm sorry, all right?" "Not to me. To your father. Who is probably icing his
back right this minute."
"Hopefully he's put some pants on first." Fred looked around the small living room, which was
artfully decorated in Cape Cod Tourist. "Why here, Mom? Why next to the pleather chair? The La-
Z-Boy? Why not anywhere else?" Why not never? Never ever? "I meanтАж you've got a bed."

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"We are often strongly affected in the living room," her mother said primly, then giggled
(giggled! O gods of all the seas, kill me now and make it snappy) and marched out, trailing
blanket fuzz behind her.
"Oh, fucking gross," she muttered, following her mother.




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Chapter Two


"It's not as bad as you think, Fred," the Deftler of Her Mother said, wincing when he moved the
bag of frozen peas to better cover his lower back. He had, thankfully, put on pants. Said frozen
peas were stuffed in back of said pants. Fred's mom was still prancing around in the couch
blanket, all "nature's never wrong" and "be empowered, not embarrassed" and "you shouldn't
cover up God's handiwork."
Is there anything sillier than a grown-up hippie?
"I'm sorry you had to catch us in an intimate momentтАФ"
"Bird watching Wednesday," my mother said solemnly, then giggled again.
Fred groaned and looked around for a fork or a spoon or a gravy boat to gouge out her eyes. And