"Sheri S. Tepper - The Family Tree" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tepper Sherri)

building weird machines in the basement, but what they were for, God only knew, because Jared never
said.
She waited until his eating had slowed. "My sister Polly wrote me," she said in a casual voice. "She's
dropping in tomorrow for a couple of days."
He put his fork down and scowled. "Couple of days? Well, thank you for the notice!"
"I just got the letter this morning, Jared. If you don't feel like company, I can put her up in a motel."
"I don't feel like company, but you won't put her up in a motel. She's family." His mouth clamped into a
thin, dissatisfied line, meaning she wasn't his family, no member of whom would ever, ever arrive
without at least six months' notice. Come to think of it, Jared and Momma were all there were of Jared's
family, so how the hell would he know how families acted!
She had the sop ready to throw him when he growled. "I thought I'd take her out to dinner tomorrow,

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just us sisters, for girl talk."
His brow cleared at this. "Fine. Okay. I'll eat with Momma." Jared hated girl talk. Come to that, Jared
hated talk. And he would eat with Momma, just as he always did when Dora got home too late to fix
supper. Dora had known he would.
"If you got the mail this morning, you probably saw that weed," said Jared. If she had seen it, his tone
implied, she should have done something about it.
She regarded her plate in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry, Jared. I was reading Polly's letter, and I guess
I didn't notice."
He fixed her with a suspicious glare. "You had to notice. The damn thing was three feet high!"
She opened her eyes very wide, giving him the willing but stupid look, another expression perfected
since their marriage. "Was it really? My gracious. What do you suppose it was?"
He was successfully sidetracked by the look and the tone. He nodded. "It was some kind of vine. I
sprayed it with weed killer. Enough to kill an elephant. That ought to follow it down underground and
finish off the root." He came close to smacking his lips at the idea.
"I'm sure it will." Poor weed. Didn't have a chance. Why hadn't it picked somewhere other than Jared's
place?
"Maybe it's a shoot from that damned tree," he muttered. "The roots are coming up under the garage!
They're making huge cracks in the floor! I'm going to have to have it jackhammered out and relaid."
She didn't reply. Jared wouldn't expect her to. After all, construction was men's business, just as doing
the supper dishes was women's. He didn't expect her to lay concrete; she shouldn't expect him to wash
dishes. While she washed and put away, Jared went down to the basement and moved stuff around in his
equipment room. Dora never went down there. She'd looked in, once, when they'd first been married, but
Jared made it clear he'd do the cleaning down there himself, he'd prefer she just leave it alone. So, hell,
she left it alone. Walls hung with glittering sets of blades and sockets and benches stacked with
complicated contraptions didn't exactly make her salivate.
Dora was getting ready for work the following morning when she heard Jared yelling and ran to see
what the matter was. He was standing on the stoop, his face pale and rigid with anger.
"Damn, stupid chemicals, damn directions were all wrong, they'll pay for thisтАж"
The rosebushes down either side of the front walk had turned a seared, ashen hue, and most of the leaves
had dropped. The little round evergreens on either side of the stoop were a sick yellow. Most of the


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