"Mary Rosenblum - California Dreaming" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rosenblum Mary)

While I was a starving artist. Now you get to be my kept woman. тАЬI took care of
her. She needed a full-time keeper when she was working.тАЭ

Beth nodded politely, eyes on the bedroom door. тАЬWhere is she now?тАЭ

тАЬSheтАЩs dead.тАЭ The words caught Ellen by surprise. тАЬShe was in . . . San
Francisco. When the Quake happened.тАЭ She set the plate of sandwiches down in
front of Beth with a small thump, aware of the pill bottle up on the top shelf. тАЬIтАЩll get
you some water.тАЭ

тАЬIтАЩm really sorry.тАЭ Beth touched her hand. тАЬThat your friend died.тАЭ

тАЬMe, too,тАЭ Ellen whispered.

Storm wind whined around the comers of the house, banging a loose piece of
gutter against the eaves. Shadows were creeping into the corners. She switched on
the fluorescent lantern, hung it on its hook above the table. The shadows cast by its
gentle swinging made the watercolor Rebecca smile, but her eyes looked sad. тАЬIn a
hundred years, weтАЩll have forgotten how California looked before the Quake,тАЭ Ellen
murmured. тАЬEverything will seem so normal.тАЭ

тАЬWe lived in Berkeley.тАЭ Beth lifted a corner of bread, stared at the yellow slab
of cheese beneath. тАЬWe had an apartment near the doctorтАЩs office where More was
a nurse. I was across the street telling Cara about Mr. WaltherтАЩs giving me a referral
at school and all of a sudden we fell down. I saw our building sway, like it was made
out of robber. Pieces cracked out of it and started falling. Cars were crashing into
things and Cara was screaming. Her voice sounded so small. All you could hear was
this giant roar. I thought . . . Mom was dead.тАЭ
 тАЬShe wasnтАЩt dead.тАЭ Beth had won that terrible lottery and Ellen had lost.
Outside, the wind rattled the screen door against its hook. Beth was trembling and
EllenтАЩs twinge of anger metamorphosed suddenly into sympathy. тАЬCтАЩmon, eat.тАЭ She
put her arm around BethтАЩs shoulders. Eat, she had said a hundred times a week to
Rebecca. You canтАЩt live on corn chips and pop, you idiot. тАЬTake your time. IтАЩll
check on your more,тАЭ she said.

The lantern streaked RebeccaтАЩs bedroom with dim light and shadow. BethтАЩs
mother тАФ Laura тАФ lay still beneath the light sheet. She didnтАЩt react as Ellen wiped
her hot face with a washcloth. Her breathing was shallow and uneven. Outside, wind
fluttered the shingles with the sound of cards riffling in a giant hand. No helicopter
would land to save her.

тАЬEllen?тАЭ BethтАЩs butterfly touch made Ellen jump, raised gooseflesh on her
arms. тАЬWhatтАЩs wrong?тАЭ

тАЬNothing.тАЭ

тАЬDonтАЩt lie to me.тАЭ BethтАЩs face was pale. тАЬYou think sheтАЩs dying.тАЭ

Ellen opened her mouth, but the lie wouldnтАЩt come.