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

item indeed, but one that had seen so many miles the toes were virtually
worn away.i didn't have time to blow-dry and style my hair, so i slipped
on my faded blue denim baseball cap with poe folks emblazoned in
canary-yellow letters across the front.to that i added a colorful albeit
nondescript blue-and-white sweatshirt, immediately covering it with a
fire-engine red university of georgia windbreaker with hand-sewn, raised
white letters directly over the heart identifying me as coach
anderson.in a not-so-concerted effort to look like just another dad at
the soccer game, i left the house looking like a cross between porter
wagoner on a Saturday night and freddie the freeloader.but i was running
late and really didn't have the time to care.

i made the half-hour trip from lebanon into donelson in silence.most
days i'd have had the radio on in the car punching the buttons, trying
to pick up on the latest country music sounds. but not this time.as the
wheels of the big white lincoln town car hummed westward over the
concrete ribbons of interstate 40 i grew pensive, reflective ... driving
...thinking ...and wondering why.why, after all these years of happily
living together, had becky and i suddenly come to this particular time
and place in our lyves where we couldn't seem to resolve this situation
over where we wanted to live?and were we ever going to be able to work
things out?and if so, how?and when?oh, sure, we'd had lots of piddling
little arguments through the years, like all married folks do, mostly
over things that didn't amount to a hill of beans, but this was starting
to feel different.very different.and scary.So scary, in fact, that i
was, for the first time since i'd met my wife nearly eighteen years
earlier, beginning seriously to ponder the future of our relationship.

what is it that keeps you from being happy living out here in the
country?i must have asked her a hundred times over the past few years. i
loved it so much.i just couldn't understand why she didn't.

it's a combination of things, she said.for one, lebanon is just too far
away from nashville.plus, you've been gone so much since we moved here.i
feel awfully isolated.

you have friends you can spend time with when i'm gone, don't you?
you've always seemed to have plenty of friends before.

i know, and i've really tried to make friends here.but it hasn't been
easy.besides, i miss all my friends back in nashville.i like the people
in lebanon, but ...i don't know ...i just don't seem to fit in.i'd nod
and try to understand, recalling ruefully how excited we'd both been
just a few years earlier when we'd left our home on old hickory lake to
take on small-town life and wide open spaces. becky and i had both grown
up in little towns near big cities, and at the time i had thought she
wanted to live in the country and raise our son there just as much as i
did.

i did want to live here, she continued, but things have changed.i'm