"Esther M. Friesner - Birthday" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

that I can see his profile. He looks like a comic book hero, steadfast and
noble, loyal and true. If there were an accident, he would accompany her to
the
clinic. He would hold her hand and stay with her for as long as the doctors
allowed. And then it would all be over for him and he could go home, go about
his business. No one would insist on making sure he stayed sorry for what was
done.

There is no picture on the screen for him.

I am next. I do the other transactions first. Maris has a little
three-year-old
boy, like the one I saw on the bus. He can talk quite well for his age. He
holds
up a blue teddy bear to the screen. "T'ank you, Mommy," he says. "I name him
Tadda-boy. Give Mommy a big kiss, Tadda-boy." He presses the bear's snout to
the
glass.

The artist's little girl is still only a few months old. This is easy. I never
had any trouble when Tessa was this young. I could pretend I was watching a
commercial for disposable diapers on the t.v. It got harder after Tessa
learned
to do things, to roll over, to push herself onto hands and knees, to toddle,
to
talk. . .

The woman who lost her job has a one-year-old with no hair and the bright,
round
eyes of the blue teddy bear. I can't tell whether this is a boy or a girl, but
I
know he or she will be blond. Tessa is blond. She looked like a fuzzy-headed
little duckling until she was almost two.

I see why Frances Hughes did not let George handle this. The child lies on its
back, staring straight up with dull eyes. It must be more than a year old,
judging from its size, but it makes no attempt to move, not even to rum its
head. I feel sorry for Frances. Then I remember the book in their house and
for
a moment I am tempted to believe that there is a just God.

Of course I know better.

It's my turn. I glance over my shoulder. A line has formed behind me. Four
people are waiting. They look impatient. One of them is a woman in her
sixties.
She looks angry. I guess they have been standing in line long enough to notice
that I am not just doing business for myself.

I leave the ATM and walk to the back of the line. As I pass the others I