"Stephenie Meyer - Twilight 03 - Eclipse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Meyer Stephanie)

тАЬWhat did I do wrong?тАЭ Charlie demanded.

тАЬYouтАЩre supposed to take the lid off first, Dad. MetalтАЩs bad for microwaves.тАЭ I swiftly removed the lid
as I spoke, poured half the sauce into a bowl, and then put the bowl inside the microwave and the jar
back in the fridge; I fixed the time and pressed start.

Charlie watched my adjustments with pursed lips. тАЬDid I get the noodles right?тАЭ

I looked in the pan on the stove тАФ the source of the smell that had alerted me. тАЬStirring helps,тАЭ I said
mildly. I found a spoon and tried to de-clump the mushy hunk that was scalded to the bottom.

Charlie sighed.

тАЬSo whatтАЩs all this about?тАЭ I asked him.

He folded his arms across his chest and glared out the back windows into the sheeting rain. тАЬDonтАЩt
know what youтАЩre talking about,тАЭ he grumbled.

I was mystified. Charlie cooking? And what was with the surly attitude? Edward wasnтАЩt here yet; usually
my dad reserved this kind of behavior for my boyfriendтАЩs benefit, doing his best to illustrate the theme of
тАЬunwelcomeтАЭ with every word and posture. CharlieтАЩs efforts were unnecessary тАФ Edward knew exactly
what my dad was thinking without the show.

The wordboyfriend had me chewing on the inside of my cheek with a familiar tension while I stirred. It
wasnтАЩt the right word, not at all. I needed something more expressive of eternal commitment. . . . But
words likedestiny andfate sounded hokey when you used them in casual conversation.

Edward had another word in mind, and that word was the source of the tension I felt. It put my teeth on
edge just to think it to myself.

Fianc├йe. Ugh. I shuddered away from the thought.

тАЬDid I miss something? Since when do you make dinner?тАЭ I asked Charlie. The pasta lump bobbed in
the boiling water as I poked it. тАЬOrtry to make dinner, I should say.тАЭ

Charlie shrugged. тАЬThereтАЩs no law that says I canтАЩt cook in my own house.тАЭ

тАЬYou would know,тАЭ I replied, grinning as I eyed the badge pinned to his leather jacket.

тАЬHa. Good one.тАЭ He shrugged out of the jacket as if my glance had reminded him he still had it on, and
hung it on the peg reserved for his gear. His gun belt was already slung in place тАФ he hadnтАЩt felt the need
to wear that to the station for a few weeks. There had been no more disturbing disappearances to trouble
the small town of Forks, Washington, no more sightings of the giant, mysterious wolves in the ever-rainy
woods. . . .

I prodded the noodles in silence, guessing that Charlie would get around to talking about whatever was
bothering him in his own time. My dad was not a man of many words, and the effort he had put into
trying to orchestrate a sit-down dinner with me made it clear there were an uncharacteristic number of
words on his mind.
I glanced at the clock routinely тАФ something I did every few minutes around this time. Less than a half