Someone Like Her

“Have you told him…” She nodded toward the bed.

“He’s dead.”

“Oh.” Compassion and an array of other emotions crossed her face, as if the sunlight coming through the window were suddenly dappled with small, fluttering shadows. “Do you have other family? I didn’t think to ask if you had sisters or brothers.”

Adrian shook his head. “Just me. Dad remarried, but as far as I know he and my stepmother never considered having kids.”

She nodded, her gaze softer now, less piercing.

Without knowing why, he kept talking. “His parents are still alive. I’m not close to them.” He hesitated. “My maternal grandmother is alive, too. I haven’t told her yet.”

“Oh! But won’t she be thrilled?”

“I’m not so sure. She might have preferred to think her child was dead. To find out she didn’t care enough to ever call home…” He shrugged.

“That’s not fair! She forgot who she was!”

“But then Maman may feel she failed her in some way.”

“Oh,” Lucy said again. “Maman? Is that what you call her? Is she French?”

“French Canadian. She lives in Nova Scotia. That’s where I was, with my grandparents, the summer my mother went away.”

“What a sad story.”

Oh, good. He’d gone from being a monster in her eyes to being pitiable. Adrian wasn’t sure he welcomed the change.

When he said nothing, she flushed and rose to her feet. “I really had better go. I don’t do breakfast, but it’s time for me to start lunch.” She hesitated. “If you’d like…”

What was she going to suggest? That she could feed him free of charge like she had his mother?

“Like?” he prodded, when she didn’t finish.

“I was going to say that, after lunch, I could take an hour or two and introduce you to some of the people who knew your mother. They could tell you something about her life.”

“Your sister started to.”

He felt weirdly uncomfortable with the idea. But if his mother died without ever coming out of the coma, this might be the only way he’d ever find out who she’d become. Perhaps she’d even given someone a clue as to where she’d been in the years before she came to Middleton. He thought his grandmother, at least, would want to know as much as he could find out.

After a minute he nodded and said formally, “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

Lucy smiled, lighting her pale, serious face, making her suddenly, startlingly beautiful in a way unfamiliar to him. Adrian’s chest constricted.

He thought he took a step toward her, searching her eyes the way she often did his. Her pupils dilated as she stared back at him, her smile dying. He felt cruel when wariness replaced it.

She inched around him as if afraid to take her gaze from him, then backed toward the door. “I’ll, um, see you later then? Say, two o’clock?”

“I’ll come and eat lunch first.” He paused. “Your soup was amazing.”

The tiniest of smiles curved her lips again. “Wait until you taste my basil mushroom tomato soup.”

His own mouth crooked up. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Well, then…” She backed into the door frame and gave an involuntarily “umph” before she flushed in embarrassment, cast him one more alarmed look and fled.

He stood there by the curtain, the soft beep of the machines that monitored his mother’s life signs in his ears, and wondered what in hell had just happened.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.