Her Favorite Husband. Caron Todd
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Название: Her Favorite Husband
Автор: Caron Todd
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish
isbn: 9781408950241
isbn:
The answer came immediately.
No. No! I’ll figure it out. Sorry, Sarah, but I’ve got to go. Baby’s crying, kettle’s whistling, dog’s barking. See ya.
Sarah tried not to be irritated by the casual sign-off.
The monster didn’t look all that puny. Liz either couldn’t or didn’t want to ignore the distractions her life was throwing at her.
If her book wasn’t finished in time there’d be an empty spot in the company’s catalog and an empty spot on bookstore shelves, one another publisher would be glad to fill.
Sarah rubbed her eyes. Her head was starting to throb. So much for taking a break and getting perspective. Surrounded by tundra and houseboats and Old Town shanties and she hardly had a chance to—
Of course…why hadn’t she thought of it right away? She hurried to the phone and dialed Liz’s number.
No answer. That was always the way with Liz. The phone was busy, or no one was there. With an e-mail, an answer could take hours, even a whole day.
Liz, I told you, didn’t I, that I’d be in Yellowknife before Manitoba? That’s where I am now. You’ve got to come. Instead of me going to you, you come here. Every two steps you’ll trip over a story. You can’t be here and not see pictures. You’ll have to hurry, though. I’m flying back to Vancouver on the weekend. I know it’s rushed, but it’ll be worth it. All right?
Every few minutes Sarah hit the receive button. Nothing happened. With any luck, it meant Liz was hard at work. Off in the woods with her easel and paints. Or shut in the attic, insulated from interruption.
Finally, Liz answered.
I’m a Wife and Mother. Did you forget?
Uh-oh, Sarah thought, this time noticing the capital letters. Liz wasn’t just overwhelmed. She had a martyr complex in the making. Sympathy would be the worst thing to offer.
Hand infant to husband. Point nose north. Flap wings.
For half an hour, Sarah heard nothing back. She heated water through the coffeemaker, directly onto a tea bag in a mug. She dipped the bag in and out, burned her tongue on the first sip and wished she had her own kitchen with a proper kettle, a nice porcelain pot and a wide choice of premium tea leaves.
The laptop dinged.
Infant handed. Flight booked. Arriving Yellowknife Thursday.
Like magic, Sarah’s headache began to subside.
The schedule would still be tight; there was no getting away from that. But a few days here, and Liz would have grist for the mill for years to come.
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