"Hoffman-HomeForChristmas" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hoffman Abbie)

hand, and successfully gripping the hem of the nightgown. "Hey!" he said.

--Our things,-- said the room.

Matt thought about the sullen teenager she had seen in the photo in Jim's
wallet. Afraid of losing things, holding them tight; Matt had learned instead to
let go.

"Maybe you better put that back," she said. "I can rinse out my T-shirt."

Jim touched the drawer and it opened. He dropped the nightgown back in and the
drawer snapped shut again. "I've got pajamas you can use. Actually, my
girlfriend left some women's things in my closet. . . ."

"Pajamas would be good," Matt said.

He showed her the bathroom, which was spacious and handsome and spotless, black,
white, and red tile, fluffy white carpet, combination whirlpool tub and shower,
and a small stacked washer-dryer combination. "Wait a sec, I'll get you some
pajamas. You want to do laundry?"

"Yeah," she said. "That'd be great." She wished she had the rest of her clothes
with her, but they were still in the basement of that suburban house, two miles
away. Oh well. You did what you could when the opportunity arrived.

He disappeared, returned with red satin pajamas and a black terrycloth robe.

"Thanks," she said, wondering what else he had in his closet. She hadn't figured
him for a red satin kind of guy. She took a long hot shower without talking to
anything in the bathroom, using soap and shampoo liberally and several times.
The soap smelled clean; the shampoo smelled like apples. His pajamas and robe
were huge on her. She hitched everything up and bound it with the robe's belt so
she could walk without tripping on the pantlegs or the robe's hem. She brushed
her teeth, then started a load of laundry, all her layers, except the coat,
which she had left in the living room: T-shirt, long johns top and bottom, work
shirt, acrylic sweater, jeans, two pair of socks, even the wide Ace bandages she
bound her chest with. Leaving the mirror steamed behind her, she emerged,
flushed and clean and feeling very tired but contented.

"I can't believe I ever thought you were a boy," Jim said, putting down a
magazine and sitting up on the couch. Christmas carols played softly on the
stereo. The mugs had disappeared.

"Very useful, that," said Matt.

"Yes," he said. She sat down at the other end of the couch from him. Sleep was
waiting to welcome her; she wasn't sure how long she could keep her eyes open.

After a minute he said, "I went in the kitchen and nothing moved." Matt frowned.