rekindled(英文版)-第24部分

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and　furniture　with　sweat；　and　made　everyone　and　everything　sticky。　As
the　sky　scrapered　congestion　closed　in　on　her；　so　had　wellintending
friends　and　family；　coaxing　her　out　to　lunch；　when　she　wanted　a　tall
cola　and　a　salad　at　home；　dragging　her　to　the　theater；　when　she　craved　a
quiet　evening　alone；　spiriting　her　away　for　a　weekend　of　busy
panionship；　when　she　fancied　a　good　book　and　healing　solitude。　In　the
end　she　wanted　Jeff；　but　Jeff　was　gone。

Now；　cocooned　by　darkness；　she　curled　in　a　large　upholstered　chair。　The
wood　fire　in　the　hearth　offered　the　only　light；　its　orange　and　gold
flames　flickering　hypnotically　before　her　dark　eyes。　This　was　her　first
evening　here。　If　the　isolation；　the　peace　were　a　harbinger；　she　had　made
the　right　decision　in　renting　the　house　for　the　week。　Time　was　precious；
but　it　abounded　here。　She　planned　to　read；　to　take　walks；　even　to　work。
Mostly；　though；　she　planned　to　think。

Late　September　in　Vermont　was　the　perfect　time　for　soul…searching。　With
promises　of　misty　mornings　and　golden　afternoons；　newly　ripening　apples
and　sountain　air；　it　was　a
perfect　antidote　for　her　malaise。　The　small　house　on　its　high　perch　was
everything　the　rental　agent　had　promised。　No　matter　that　her　small　car
had　nearly　e　apart　jolting　over　bumps　and　ruts　in　the　steadily
climbing　dirt　road；　the　house　was　charming。　It　sat　peacefully　in　the
arms　of　giant　maples　and　towering　firs；　its　brown　weathered　shingles　and
silver　slate　roof　blending　with　the　earthen　road　and　the　gray　of　the
sky。　Low　shrubbery；　aged　a　fall　green；　bordered　the　house。　Taller　lilac
bushes；　their　fragrant　blossoms　long　gone　but　imagined；　straddled　the
ebony　front　door。

Inside；　the　cottage　was　as　pact　as　its　surroundings　were　generous；
with　an　open…hearthed　living　room　at　the　front；　a　kitchen；　bedroom；　and
bath　at　the　rear。　A　narrow　stairway　on　the　far　side　led　to　a　dormered
attic。　Decorated　functionally　and　fortably；　the　whole　was　a　far　cry
from　her　elegant　New　York　apartment；　but　the　difference　pleased　her。
This　was　a　neutral　spot；　a　place　of　few　luxuries　and　no　memories；　a
place　where　she　could　face　life　for　the　pleasure　of　the　day。

And　this　had　been　a　tiring　one。　Its　morning　had　been　filled　with
last　minute　errands…to　the　bank　for　money；　to　the　library　and　the
bookstore　for　the　week's　entertainment；　to　the　university　for　a　delivery
and　a　pickup；　to　the　market　for　food。　Its　afternoon　had　been　one　of
steady　driving；　then　storing　groceries　and　unpacking　bags。

The　fireplace　had　beckoned。　Anne　was　bone…weary；　had　been　lacking　in
stamina　for　weeks。　As　the　wing…backed　chair　held　her　slim　form；　the
dancing　flames　lulled　her　into　recollection　of　a　dinner　with　her　parents
the　weekend　before。

〃I　don't　understand；〃　her　mother　had　tried　to　reason　with　her；　〃why　you
have　to　take　off　all　by　yourself。　We've　tried　so　hard　to　do　what's　best。
Have　we　failed？〃

Arodous　to　ease　her　mother's　worry；　Anne　had　forced　a　smile。　〃No；　you
didn't　fail。　I　just　want　to　get　out　of　the　city　for　a　while。　You　know；
get　a　little　of　that　fresh…air…and…color…on…my…cheeks　type　of　thing？〃

〃Well；　you　could　certainly　use　that；〃　came　her　father's　deep　voice。　Tall
and　distinguished…looking；　Anthony　Faulke's　sturdy　frame　belied　his
near　sixty　years。　Anne　took　the　darkness　of　her　hair　and　eyes　from　him；
though　her　willowed　shapeliness　was　her　mother's。　〃But　we'd　have　liked
to　have　you　join　us　on　the　shore　in　several　weeks。　Won't　you　reconsider
and　wait　until　then？〃

Anne　shook　her　head。　Not　a　hair　moved。　It　was　in　a　somber　knot　at　the
nape　of　her　neck。　〃Now's　the　time。　I've　already　made　the　arrangements
and　paid　for　the　place。〃

Her　mother　tried　again。　〃But　you've　never　enjoyed　traveling　alone。
Wouldn't　it　be　better　to　have　someone　with　you？　If　I　didn't　have　the
charity　luncheon　on　Wednesday；　I'd　go　with　you　myself。　You　need　pany；
Anne。〃

Anne　hated　worrying　her　parents。　They　had　suffered　nearly　as　much　as　she
had；　having　to　stand　by　and　watch　helplessly　as　their　elder　daughter's
life　fell　apart。　When　they　looked　at　her；　Anne　knew　what　they　saw。　She
saw　it　in　the　mirror　each　morning；　the　pallor　in　an　oval　face　framed　by
pitch…black　hair。

Still；　she　said；　〃I　really　have　no　choice；　have　I；　Mother？　I've　been
more　fortunate　than　others；　always　having　someone　to　be　with。　When　it
wasn't　you　and　Dad；　it　was　Peggy；　then　my　roommates　at　college；　then
Jeff。〃　Her　voice　caught　on　his　name。　She　had　long…since　cried　herself
out；　but　that　little　break　in　her　breath　remained。

Marjorie　Faulke　grasped　at　straws。　〃Call　Peggy。　She　won't　be　starting
classes　for　another　few　weeks。　She'll　make　the　trip　with　you。〃

But　Anne　shook　her　head。　〃No；　Mom。　Peggy's　terrific。　For　a　sister；　I
couldn't　ask　for　finer。　But　she　has　her　own　life；　her　own　friends。　It's
not　her　job　to　baby…sit　me。　And　I'd　really　prefer　to　be　alone。〃　Her
voice　hardened。　〃I'd　better　get　used　to　it；　don't　you　think？〃　Oh；　yes；
there　was　anger。　Its　only　cure　was　through　the　courts；　but　it　would　be
months　more　before　things　were　resolved　there。

A　silence　had　hung　over　the　intimate　round　table；　its　elegant　place
settings　and　fine　food　for　otten。　This　had　bee　a　pattern；　this　family
gathering　turned　wake；　but　it　had　to　be　broken。　Anne　had　to　start　to
live　again。　The　trip　to　Vermont　was　a　first　step。

As　the　full　blaze　in　the　fireplace　settled　to　a　more　sedate　crackle；　the
patter　of　raindrops　broke　through　Anne's　reverie。　Stretching　her　legs；
she　stood；　smoothed　out　her　jeans；　and　padded　barefoot　to　the　front
window。　The　darkness　was　dense。　Staring　out　through　rain…spattered
panes；　she　was　grateful　that　she　had　shut　the　car　windows　and　locked　the
door。　The　idea　of　going　outside　to　do　it　now　didn't　appeal　to　her。　As
she　stood；　hands　by　her　sides；　eyes　straight　ahead；　she　could　see
nothing　but　the　black　of　night　and　her　own　grim　reflection。

She　didn't　need　friends　to　tell　her　that　she　looked　gaunt　and　spectral。
Her　cheeks　were　pale；　hollowed　by　a　weight　loss　that　had　cut　into　gentle
curves　all　over　her　body。　Her　mouth　was　more　often　drawn　thin　and
straight　now；　rather　than　curved　in　a　smile。　Dark　eyes　that　had　once
danced　with　happiness；　now　spoke　of　loneliness；　and　her　hair　didn't
swing。　It　fit　her　mood；　which　was　restrained。　Even　now　she　had　it　tied
back　with　a　thin　strip　of　black　velvet　whose　ends　were　lost　in　the
ribbing　of　her　black　turtleneck　sweater。

This；　too…this　ghostly　appearance…would　have　to　change　if　she　planned　to
start　a　new　life。

She　had　been　paralyzed　for　weeks　after　the　previous　January's　debacle。
The　thought　of　a　future　without　Jeff　was　still　alien。　They　had　been
married　for　seven　years；　though　it　had　seemed　forever。　Anne　was　a
sophomore　in　college；　a　language　major；　when　she　had　met　him　during　a
summer　of　study　in　France。　He　was　one　of　the　few　Americans　she　had　seen
during　her　three　month　stay　with　a　family　in　a　small　village　west　of
Limoges。　His　means　of　transportation　had　been　a　bicycle；　his　means　of
munication　a　brilliant　smile；　until　he　discovered　she　spoke　English。
From　then　on　they　were　inseparable。　He　revised　his　touring　plans　to
acmodate　her；　and　when　they　returned　to　the　States　at　the　end　of
August；　friendship　became　courtship。　He　was　also　from　New　York；　his
family　home　an　hour's　drive　from　her　own。　By　January　she　had　transferred
to　his　midwestern　university；　they　were　married　the　following　summer。
Only　two　years　apart　in　age；　they　grew　up　together；　passing　through　the
college　years　of　flux　and　idealism　with　hours　of　carefree　camaraderie
and　first　love。　Both　had　e　from　hard…working；　upwardly　mobile
families　that　helped　them　financially　until　they　were　on　their　own　feet。
But　money　hadn't　mattered；　even　when　Jeff　became　a　successful　investment
consultant。　What　mattered　had　always　been　Jeff　and　Anne；　Anne　and　Jeff。
Then；　abruptly；　it　was　Anne；　alone。

When　the　stupor　finally　began　to　wear　off；　she　took　stock　of　her　assets。
She　had　a　home…a　spacious；　well…furnished；　stylishly　decorated　condo。
She　had　money　enough　to　live　in　it　fortably；　with　leftover　to　invest。
She　had　friends。　She　had　family。　She　had　her　own　car；　one　not　as　sporty
as　Jeff's　Audi；　but　small；　reliable；　and　gas　efficient。　And　she　had　her
work。

Fluent　in　French　and　Spanish；　Anne　worked　as　a　freelance　interpreter
through　most　of　her　marriage。　At　first　they　had　needed　the　money；　later
not　so；　but　she　enjoyed　her　work；　and　with　nothing　to　keep　her　at　home；
it　filled　the　hours　when　Jeff　was　at　the　office。　When　they　planned　a
trip；　she　took　on　less　work。　When　Jeff　had　a　business　trip；　she　took　on
more　and　was　busy　until　he　returned。

More　than　once　during　those　long；　morbid　months；　she　had　wondered　what
would　have　been　if　she　had　been　with　him　on　that　last；　fateful　trip。
They　might　have　been　together　still。

But　they　weren't。　She　was　alone。

Gradually　she　took　on　more　work；　branching　off　into　textbook　translation
for　local　universities。　As　opposed　to　interpreting；　where　she　had　to　be
personally　on　the　spot　at　a　given　time　on　a　given　day；　there　was　more
flexibility　in　translation。　Once　the　material　had　been　picked　up；　she
could　tackle　the　job　on　her　own　schedule；　in　the　fort　and　privacy　of
her　apartment。

The　work　was　plentiful。　She　could　pick　and　choose。　Between　her
availability；　her　petence；　and　her　promptness；　she　was　in　demand。

On　occasion；　she　met　overeager　professors；　even　some　young　and
attractive　ones　who　were　aware　of　her　situation。　She　remained　courteous
and　professionally　efficient；　but　she　refused　to　date　them。　It　disturbed
her；　even　angered　her；　that　men　thought　she　would　want　to　date　so　soon。

Memories　of　Jeff　were　too　near；　too　vivid；　too　dear。　Those　memories
would　eventually　settle　in；　she　knew；　and　she　might　date　then。　For　now；
though；　she'd　had　enough　of　love　and　pain。

This　trip　was　good　in　that　sense；　too。　It　gave　her　excuses　to　avoid
dating。　Between　getting　ready　to　leave　with　a　million　errands　to　do；
being　physically　out　of　state　for　the　week；　and　eventually　returning　to
a　huge　pile　of　work；　she　was　safe。　She　didn't　have　to　worry　about　men　in
the　backwoods　of　Vermont。　She　was　hoping　she　wouldn't　see　anyone　in　the
week　she　was　here。

Pretty　reclusive　for　a　former　socializer；　she　mu