Both men laughed out loud.
Lizzie smiled, but it wasn't genuine. Though they'd become friends, she couldn't look at Rachel then. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why some were so blessed with children while others were not.
Rachel smacked Ledford on the arm. She smiled, but hers was as false as Lizzie's. A palpable guilt weighed on her for the way Ledford and told them, and she wished Lizzie would look at her. Rachel understood why she couldn't. She poured herself more tea and the ice in her glass cracked and settled . . .
In the front yard, Harold chased Mary in a figure eight between two maple trees. When he caught her . . . Willy rumbled over from where he'd been kicking a ball against the house. At a year and a half, his gait was not unlike a drunk man's, knock-kneed and zig-zag. He came to his sister's rescue. Harold allowed the little ones to pin him to the ground, no longer warm from the day's sun.
"Help," Harold hollered, and the adults on the porch watched with one eye while they talked.
-from The Marrowbone Marble Company by Glenn Taylor
(This, by the way, is a pretty awesome book.)
I've been looking for a good book to read. I think I'll give this one a try. :)
ReplyDeleteDo. It's very interesting, and Taylor is quite a wordsmith, I think.
ReplyDeleteSome, ah, adult language... but it didn't strike me as gratuitous, nor rubbbing one's face in depravity.