Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/109

 home with you, Grandpa … I don't ever want to go back to our house. If Mama's not there, I don't want to."

Clayton Le Claire stiffened suddenly. A light patter of feet on the porch brought him back from the past. There was a sound of a doorknob turning and Carol came into the room. She stood looking at him, her lovely face as soft and kind as a fawn's.

"You look tired, honey," she said. "Why don't you go to bed?"

"I was just sitting here."

"Feel all right?"

"I'm all right … I was just thinking … " Le Claire said heavily.

Carol walked to him. "They must have been unpleasant thoughts … is there anything wrong?"

"No … there's nothing wrong … I was just thinking of my mother."

She came over and sat on the edge of his chair, stroked his hair … said, "I wish I had known her … she must have been a wonderful woman."

"She was. Not a damn thing out of life … just work … work …"

"She had you."

"I was too young to help her."

"But she had you … I'm sure she got more out of life than you think she did."

"Maybe so … I'd give anything if she were alive today. I could treat her like a queen now."

"I wish she were too, Clay."

To him, at that moment, Carol Le Claire was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"You've been good for me, Carol," Clayton said. "I want you to know that."

Their eyes met in complete accord.

"For me too, Clay," Carol answered. Then she reached up and kissed him. "Clay …"

"Yes?"

"Let's go to bed … I'm tired and so are you."

They walked the rest of the way to the bedroom in silence. 99