Overheard in a Dream. Torey Hayden

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СКАЧАТЬ stories about all the current prospects and whether I’d approve or disapprove. Then we’d make lots of exciting plans about what we and this new mum were going to do once we were all together again.

      “I was incredibly gullible,” Laura said lightly. “I never doubted him. Not once. Month after month, year after year my dad would tell me these stories about what he was doing to get me back with him and I always believed him. I must have been at least nine before I even fully realized ‘in another six months’ was an actual measure of time and not just a synonym for ‘someday’.”

      “Did you feel resentful when you did figure that out?” James asked.

      “No, not at the time. He was so reliable in other ways, like the way he always came every third Sunday, always brought me a present, always took me out to do fun things. Even when I did realize that a lot of actual six-month periods had gone by, I still believed he was trying his hardest to reunite us.”

      “And throughout this time did you have this imaginary companion? This Torgon character you were telling me about?” James asked.

      Laura nodded. “Oh yes. Torgon and I were only just getting started.”

       Chapter Seven

      “Hi Becks!”

      “Daddy! Hi ya! Guess what? When the phone rang, I said it was going to be you! I told Mum. She and Uncle Joey were going to take us ice skating tonight, but I told her I wanted to stay in because I thought you might phone. And you did! I got psychic powers, don’t you think?”

      “Yeah, probably so, Becks,” James said and chuckled. He didn’t remind her he phoned most Friday evenings.

      “Thanks for sending me that Ramona Quimby book, Daddy. I didn’t have that one. And it’s really good! I’m almost clear through it already and I only started it last night. I was so happy when I opened up your package and saw that’s what it was.”

      “Well, thank you for your nice long newsy letter,” James said. “I got it on Monday. What a nice surprise in my mail box.”

      “It was so long, it was practically like a Ramona Quimby book too, wasn’t it?” Becky replied gleefully. “My teacher says I’m probably going to be a writer when I grow up, because I’m so good with details.”

      “Yes, you certainly are. I like your details. And I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying gymnastics so much.”

      James’s words were interrupted by noises of a muffled struggle on the other end of the line. “Get off!” Becky was muttering. “I’m still talking!”

      “Daddy! Daddy!” Mikey’s voice broke through.

      “Hi, Mike, how’s it going?”

      “Becky won’t let me have the phone and it’s my turn.”

      More muffled struggling and the sound of Becky muttering, “Pushy little pig. You give it back to me afterwards.”

      “Did you get the postcard I sent, Daddy?” Mikey asked. “It’s got a lighthouse on it.”

      “Yes, I did. Thank you very much.”

      “I did all the writing on it myself. I even wrote your address.”

      “And a Superman job you did too,” James said. “It was very easy to read. The mailman got it right to my door with no trouble at all.”

      “Dad?”

      “Yes, Mike?”

      “When can we come to your door again? I miss you. I want to see you.”

      “Yes, I miss you too, Mikey. Big lots. And that’s one of the reasons I’m phoning. To make arrangements with Mum for you two to come out over Thanksgiving.”

      “I don’t want to wait that long. I miss you now.”

      “Yeah, I know. Me too,” James said. “Every night I say, ‘Goodnight, Mikey. Goodnight, Becky’ to that picture beside my bed.”

      “Yeah, every night I say ‘Goodnight, Daddy’, to your picture,” Mikey replied. “But I wish it was really you.”

      “So why don’t you put your mum on the phone so we can make some plans.”

      “Okay, Daddy. Kiss you,” he smacked into the phone. “Love you forever.”

      “Love you forever too, Mikey.”

      A moment’s pause as Mikey dropped the phone noisily on the table. Then Sandy’s voice, deep for a woman’s voice but soft and darkly fluid, like molasses over gravel.

      “Well, yes, I got your email,” she said. “And I want to know exactly what you’re playing at.”

      “It should have been quite plain, Sandy. I’m not paying the kind of mortgage I’m shelling out on that place to have Joey living there and I know he is, because the kids have told me. Let Joey pay the damned mortgage.”

      “The mortgage was part of the settlement, James.”

      “Not if he’s living there.”

      “The mortgage was part of the settlement,” she repeated in short, clipped words that emphasized their meaning. “Because our kids are living in this house. That’s still happening. So why are you even bothering with this shit?”

      “Because I’m earning a South Dakota wage and paying for a West Side brownstone. Joey’s a fucking corporate lawyer. In Manhattan, for Christ’s sake. He can afford to pay his own way.”

      “Well, if you think you can have the kids any time you want and then turn around and say you aren’t going to pay the mortgage …”

      “This has nothing to do with when I get the kids. We agreed those dates in mediation, Sandy.”

      “Yeah, well, we agreed the mortgage in mediation too.”

      “Sandy.”

      She slammed the phone down.

      “You got to ignore her, Jim,” Lars said. “It’s like in playing football. If you want to complete a good pass, well, then you just got to think of nothing but that pass. You got to totally ignore the other team because they’re doing nothing but trying to put you off your concentration. Same with Sandy. She doesn’t want you to complete any passes, whether it’s getting the kids out here at Thanksgiving or telling the shifty lawyer guy to move the hell out of your house.”

      “I know it,” James said in frustration and sank back into the chair. “It’s just when she starts in with that patronizing tone …”

      “It’s interference, Jim. Nothing else. She’s just running interference. You got to take your mind off her and put it on the positive. On what you want to accomplish.”

      “She so knows how to twist СКАЧАТЬ