"Steven Gould - Jumper 02 - Reflex" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gould Stephen Jay)

time? "But what about the way I feel? I'm thirty-one. I'd like to have kids while I'm still young enough
to keep up with them!"

The corners of his mouth turned down. "Look at how my dad—I don't exactly have the right
modeling to be a parent."

You'll never know until you try.

"And there's the Aerie. It's not exactly kid-safe."

"We can live here. We can live elsewhere if necessary. It's not as if we don't have the
resources."

"And when the kids start kindergarten? 'Did you take the bus today, little Millie?' 'No, my daddy
teleported me.' "

She glared at him but she couldn't really find an argument against this one. Was she to ask him to
stop jumping? Jump, but lie about it to their child? Let the child know, but have them lie? She knew
that one all too well. She'd been lying about Davy for ten years.

He looked at his watch. "I have a meeting with Brian in D.C. in ten minutes. He wants to sell me
on another errand."

Oh, that's convenient! Then she recalled his mentioning it the day before and felt guilty for the
thought.

"You want to wait here?" he asked.

"How long do you think you'll be?"

He shrugged. "Not too long, I should think."

She was still annoyed. "I've got clients at seven-thirty. I need my sleep. You better jump me to
bed, first." Though I'd rather you jumped me in bed.

"Okay."

He paced while she changed into her nightgown and brushed her teeth. He looked at books,
opened them, shut them. When she was ready, he jumped her to the cliff dwelling—their hidden Aerie
in the rugged desert of far west Texas. It was cool here, but not as cold as New York City.

He turned on the bedside light and she heard the faint sound of the electrical generator kicking in
from its own enclosure at the far end of the ledge. The furniture, a rough, knotty pine queen-sized
bed, contrasted sharply with the more contemporary bedstead back in the condo. The walls, ceiling,
and floor were all rough stone; the face of this cliff, and only the rough-mortared outer wall, made of
like-colored stone, was man-made. Most of the walls, natural and otherwise, were hidden by rows of
knotty pine bookshelves.

She sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. "We talked about it when we got married, you
know."