"Barker, Clive - The Great and Secret Show v1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Barker Clive)

"Waste of good steak," Beverly said.
"What's his name?" Jo-Beth wanted to know.
"What am I, a dating service? I didn't ask."
"Go ask."
"You ask. He wants another Coke."
"Thanks. Will you look after my table?"
"Just call me Cupid."
Jo-Beth had managed to keep her mind on her job and her eyes off the boy for half an hour: enough was enough. She poured a Coke, and took it out. To her horror, the table was empty. She almost dropped the glass; the sight of the empty chair made her feel physically sick. Then, out of the corner of her eye, the sight of him emerging from the restroom, and returning to the table. He saw her, and smiled. She crossed to the table, ignoring two calls for service en route. She already knew the question she was going to ask first: it had been on her mind from the start. But he was there with the same enquiry before her.
"Do we know each other?"
And of course she knew the answer.
"No," she said.
"Only when you...you...you..." He was stumbling over the word, the muscles in his jaw working like he was chewing gum. "...You..." he kept saying, "...you..."
"I thought the same," she said, hoping her finishing his thought wouldn't offend. It seemed not to. He gave a smile, his face relaxing.
"It's strange," she said. "You're not from the Grove, are you?"
"No. Chicago."
"That's a ways to come."
"I was born here, though."
"You were?"
"My name's Howard Katz. Howie."
"I'm Jo-Beth..."
"What time do you finish here?"
"Around eleven. It's good you came in tonight. I'm only here Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. If you'd come in tomorrow you would have missed me."
"We'd have found each other," he said, and the certainty in his statement made her want to cry.
"I have to go back to work," she told him.
"I'll wait," he replied.

* * *
At eleven-ten they stepped out of Butrick's together. The night was warm. Not a pleasant, breezy warmth, but humid.
"Why did you come to the Grove?" she asked him as they walked to her car.
"To meet you."
She laughed.
"Why not?" he said.
"All right. So why did you leave in the first place?"
"My mother moved us to Chicago when I was only a few weeks old. She never really spoke much about the ol' home town. When she did it was like she was talking about hell. I suppose I wanted to see for myself. Maybe understand her and me a bit better."
"Is she still in Chicago?"
"She's dead. Died two years ago."
"That's sad. What about your father?"
"I don't have one. Well...I mean...is...is—" He started to stumble, fought it, and won. "I never knew him," he said.
"This gets weirder."
"Why?"
"It's the same for me. I don't know who my father is either."
"Doesn't matter much, does it?"
"It used to. Less now. I've got a twin, see? Tommy-Ray. He's always been there for me. You must meet Tommy. You'll love him. Everybody does."
"And you. I bet every...every...everybody loves you too."
"Meaning?"
"You're beautiful. I'm going to be competing with half the guys in Ventura County, right?"
"Nope."
"Don't believe you."
"Oh they look. But they don't touch."
"Me included?"