"Anderson, Bill - Whispering Bill" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anderson Bill)

planned to keep.

Still, it was a strange situation, drawn out and in some ways made even
worse by our equally strange interim solution.not everyone who knew
about the way we were living understood our arrangement at all.most of
the time i wasn't sure i even understood it.

jamey's team, the cavaliers, played as hard as they could, blocked what
appeared to be a last-second game-tying goal by the opposing team, and
won the hard-fought soccer game 2-1 which meant they were in first place
in their division.he and i gave each other a couple of high-five's as
the teams came off the field, then we took off laughing for mcdonald's.
we got our orders to go and headed out toward the country munching on
french fries, balancing soft drink cups on our laps, and discussing such
important issues as why catsup is red, why i never played soccer as a
boy, and how airplanes are able to fly.as soon as we reached the house
and i'd parked the car alongside the fence by the swimming pool, jamey
jumped out, announced to me which pine tree would serve as which base,
and the old man and the boy got into a fierce twoman softball game.
becky left the soccer match when we did, headed for her late-morning
session at the health club, then drove out to join us in midafternoon.

Somewhere around four o'clock, jamey became tired enough to put down the
bats and balls, lie down across the top of his built-in bunk bed, and
close his eyes for a nap.the prospect of his going backstage at the opry
with me and my poe folks band later that night was enticement enough.can
i play the drums on stage during intermission?he asked hopefully.i don't
know, son, we'll see, i replied, glowing inside at the thought of this
marvelous, fragile little boy perhaps someday wanting to follow his
father's footsteps into the music business.

becky and i decided to rest too, and we stretched out across the top of
the king-sized bed she'd had custom-built as a gift for me and my long
legs back on our first wedding anniversary.the bed we'd once called
ours, but which for the past two-and-a-half years had been mostly mine.
we lay there, but we couldn't sleep and we didn't talk.what else was
there to say that we hadn't already said hundreds of times before?i
wanted her and jamey to move back home, for us to live there as a family
again, and she knew it.She wanted me to close up the house and come live
with them in the condo, and i knew it.we had been trying to compromise
recently and speed up the process of our living together again when we
found nine acres of beautiful wooded hillside property about halfway
between the house in lebanon and the condo in nashville. houses were
close by, shops, schools and churches only a few miles away, yet this
land was at the end of a dead-end street and covered with trees.it
offered everything becky wanted and i liked it, too.i could just see a
rustic little house sitting halfway up the hill, a big fire roaring in
the fireplace, and me stretched out on a warm bearskin rug writing a hit
song.it was perfect-rural enough for me and urban enough for becky-and
we didn't waste any time in buying it, telling ourselves that one day