"Fielding, Joy - Lost" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fielding Joy)

smile.

The bathroom door opened and a cloud of steam rushed into the hall,
followed by tall, skinny Duncan Rossi, wet black hair

falling across playful brown eyes, and wearing nothing but a small
yellow-and white bath towel and a large, lopsided grin. He quickly
ducked into the bedroom he'd been sharing with Cindy's younger daughter
for almost two years.

Of course, the original deal had been that he occupy the spare room in
the basement, an arrangement that lasted all of three months. Another
three months were spent denying the obvious, that Duncan was creeping
up to Heather's bedroom after Cindy was safely asleep, and then
creeping back down before she got up, until everyone finally stopped
pretending, although no one ever actually acknowledged the move out
loud.

In truth Cindy had no problem with the fact Heather and Duncan were
sleeping together. She genuinely liked Duncan, who was considerate and
helpful around the house, and had somehow managed to maintain his
equilibrium and good humor even after the maelstrom that was Julia
moved in across the hall. Both Heather and Duncan were nice,
responsible kids who'd started dating in their first year of high
school, and had been talking about marriage ever since. Which was the
only thing that really worried Cindy. Sometimes she'd look over at
Duncan and her daughter as they were reading the morning paper at
breakfast-Honey Nut Cheerios for him, Cinnamon Toast Crunch for her-and
think they were almost too comfortable with each other, too settled.
She marveled at Heather's eager embrace of such a safe, middle aged
lifestyle, and wondered if being the child of divorce had played any
part in it.

"Why is she in such a hurry to tie herself down? She's only nineteen.
She's in college. She should be out sleeping around," Cindy had
shocked her friends recently by confiding.

"Well, when else is she going to do it?" she'd continued, painfully
aware of her own reluctant celibacy.

Cindy could count on one hand the number of affairs she'd had since her
divorce, two of those in the immediate aftermath of

Tom's abrupt decision to leave her for another woman, a woman he'd left
for yet another other woman as soon as his divorce from Cindy became
final Seven years of other women, Cindy thought now, each woman
younger and tar tier than the last. A dozen at least. A baker's
dozen, she thought, feeling her jaw lock.

And then along came little Fiona, the freshest tart of all. Hell, she