The Silver Kiss Read Online Free PDF

on the line.
    There was silence.
    â€œListen,” said Lorraine, “you don’t really feel like talking now. Call me later when you’ve heard. Okay?”
    No, it’s you who doesn’t want to talk, Zoë thought, but she found herself saying, “Uh-huh.”
    â€œOkay. We’ll talk then.” But she didn’t hang up. “Hey, listen, Zoë, I love you and all that mush. Like sisters, you know.” It tumbled out fast to cover the unaccustomed shyness. “Call me.”
    â€œSure.” Zoë smiled wryly. They wouldn’t talk about it.
    â€œBye.”
    â€œBye, Zo. Hold tight,” Lorraine whispered before she hung up.
    She does care, Zoë reassured herself. She just doesn’t know how to deal with it. Who does? But Zoë was angry anyway. They could always talk before. Usually Lorraine’s choice of topic, but they could talk. And now, Lorraine leaving. Was the world coming to an end? They’d been friends forever. What’s wrong with the way things were? Why did you have to go and change every damn thing? she felt like yelling at a God she wasn’t even sure existed. Am I being punished? What did I do?
    It all made her so very tired. I’m ready to take a nap, she decided. She went upstairs. Sleeping had taken the place of eating lately. She lay down on top of the spread and escaped for a while.
    She awoke with a jolt. She grappled with the fleeting blur of dreams and recognized sounds that might have been the front door slamming, or the thud of her own room’s door. She got up stiff and unrested and made her way downstairs. Rattling and crackling came from the kitchen. She entered to find her father making himself abowl of cereal. White-faced, he looked at her, dark circles etched beneath his eyes.
    â€œDammit, Zoë, the front door was open.”
    â€œSorry, Dad. I must have forgotten. No one was here. It scared me. I went to find a note.” Her fingers picked nervously at the seam of her jeans. How could she have forgotten the door?
    â€œYou can’t just leave doors open, Zoë. For crying out loud, look at the newspapers.”
    Newspapers? she thought. Was he talking about that article? Why bring that up? Why was he picking on her? He didn’t care. “I was here.”
    â€œI know. I saw your bag. I checked your room.” His voice softened. “Sleeping again, Zo? Don’t you sleep at night?”
    She didn’t answer. If he was home any amount of time, he would know.
    The sight of his cereal made her hungry at last. She looked in the refrigerator. A tuna casserole her mother’s friend Carol had brought over three days ago sat there, browning around the edges. Carol was a warm, generous person, but she was not a cook. Zoë shut the casserole safely away and sat down with her father. She served herself some cereal too. She thought she could handle cereal.
    Her father was staring at her. She suddenly felt sorry for being a bitch. He looked sad. It wasn’t his fault he had tospend so much time at the hospital, so much time making up work, so he could pay for a private room. Maybe if all his side of the family weren’t off in California it would be easier on him. He should let me help more, she thought. But she could hear exactly what he would say. You can help by not worrying your mother.
    â€œHow’s Mom?” She hardly dared ask.
    â€œNot too good this time, love. She’s still trying to be a good soldier, but it’s wearing thin.”
    â€œIs she staying?” Please say no, Zoë thought.
    â€œYes, a few weeks. Maybe more.”
    Zoë saw the pinched look on his face, and the tears behind his eyes. Maybe forever, she thought. Yes, it’s forever this time, but he can’t tell me.
    They both ate silently and mechanically. There was no enjoyment, just the surrender to physical need. Her dad had turned back into Harry Sutcliff, the man whose wife was dying, the