Война за проливы. Операция прикрытия. Александр Михайловский

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СКАЧАТЬ actually tell you that? Did she say working?”

      Eddie chuckled. “Not exactly. She might have phrased it a bit differently.”

      “Yeah, I thought she might have. Well it is a job. Not a very well paid one, unfortunately, but I’ll get there. Meanwhile I work full-time at the library, too, and call it research.”

      “You’re doing children’s books, right?”

      “Yes. I started out illustrating other people’s books, but now I’m working on writing them as well. It’s a challenge.”

      “Sounds like fun.”

      “Well, it’s not jumping out of airplanes or scaling Everest, but to me, it’s exciting and fulfilling.”

      Already she was on the defensive. Why? There was nothing to defend. There was nothing wrong with enjoying a nice, quiet, calm, boring life. She wanted boredom. She craved boredom. She’d craved it practically from birth but been denied it far too long. She had no reason to make excuses for the way she chose to live her life.

      But a part of her desperately wanted Eddie’s approval. Always had. His respect had been hard-won. Little girls generally had a tough time impressing older boys. It was for Eddie, more than for her parents, she’d struggled for so long, pretending to be another adrenaline junkie, although she hadn’t realized that until much later. But that was all in the past now. She had no reason to seek his approval. She didn’t need it.

      “What are you working on now?”

      She tossed her hair back and glanced toward the kitchen. She should probably go check if her parents had gotten lost inside the fridge or something. They could cook well enough, but they weren’t very good at practical things—indoor things. Like cleaning up after their gourmet cooking sessions. “Are you really interested?”

      “Of course I’m interested.” He made that sound like a given. She relented, vowing to stop being so defensive.

      “Well…it’s a fantasy story. You know, heroes and dragons and monsters and stuff.”

      “Aha. You mean—an adventure.”

      She scowled at him, then grinned. “Yeah. I guess. Adventures on paper—that’s excitement enough for me, thank you.”

      “So you did discover your adventurer’s spirit after all.”

      She stared at him, not sure if he was joking or not. Yes—that was one way of putting it. She liked working on adventures inside her head. As long as they didn’t involve actual heights or actual tarantulas or actual flame-breathing dragons, adventures were just fine.

      She did have an adventurer’s spirit after all. One that was now pushing her relentlessly toward fictional journeys of danger and excitement.

      Eddie had homed into that instantly, while nobody else had ever made the connection—not even she. How? She almost felt as if he’d invaded her private thoughts and feelings.

      “How’s the book going?” Eddie asked, oblivious to her inner turmoil. She blinked, snapping back to reality.

      “Okay. Not bad. Well, bad, but I know it will pass. It always does, eventually. I have most of the story down in my head, except for the very ending, and some minor issues.” She sighed. “Well, a huge issue, actually.”

      “What’s the problem?”

      “The hero. I can’t get him to materialize properly on the paper.” She looked at Eddie and frowned, trying again to picture Marius. Eddie raised an eyebrow in question and his face was superimposed on her mental picture of Marius.

      Yes!

      She clicked her fingers and frantically looked around for a pencil and paper. “That’s it!” She jumped to her feet and glanced around, as if a sketchpad were likely to materialize in her parents’ living room. She slapped a hand against the back of the sofa in frustration. “Oh, damn it, why didn’t I bring a sketchpad? Why don’t I ever have a sketchpad when I need one?”

      Eddie chuckled. “Is this what a sudden burst of inspiration looks like?”

      Her heart was actually beating faster in anticipation of finally getting Marius on the page. Didn’t she have a small sketchpad in her purse? “Oh, yes. Would you—?”

      Her parents burst into the room, voices raised as always in an attempt to drown out each other, and it was too late to wrangle a promise out of Eddie.

      Later, Maria promised herself. Even if she had to corner him after dinner and draw on paper towels with a ballpoint pen, she would take advantage of this. She was getting quite desperate for inspiration.

      “Maria!” Mom said, hugging her. “Happy birthday, darling. Isn’t Eddie a nice birthday surprise?”

      Oh, yes, Mom. Wrap him up in a bow and nothing else and he’ll do nicely….

      Argh! What was wrong with her? Return of the Killer Hormones?

      “Yes, it’s nice to see him again,” she muttered. She hoped she wasn’t blushing too much. It really wasn’t polite to picture old friends in their birthday suits, even on their birthdays.

      “It’s been a while since the two of you celebrated your birthday together, hasn’t it?” Mom continued chattily. “Remember, Maria, when we mixed up the presents, and he got your Barbie doll and you got his model fighter jet?”

      “Well, I haven’t forgotten,” Eddie drawled with a lopsided smile. “It was an extremely traumatic experience. I have buddies who still bring up my Nurse Barbie when they need to twist my arm.”

      Maria shook her head. “I remember. Poor Nurse Barbie had been stripped naked when I got her back. I had to go on a dangerous excavation through the pile of wrapping paper to find her uniform. Typical.”

      “Boys will be boys,” her mother said.

      Her father laughed. “Remember what Maria used to retort whenever you said that after one of Eddie’s escapades?” He mimicked a little girl’s voice. “Well, boys just aren’t a good idea in the first place!”

      Maria smiled wistfully at the proud way her father slapped Eddie on the back. Dad had always adored Eddie. She’d never doubted her father’s love for her, but they’d never been much in tune and had grown apart even more when Maria withdrew from the expeditions.

      A familiar friend, jealousy, reared its ugly head. She firmly squashed it. Her parents were allowed to love Eddie. It didn’t take anything away from her, and it was childish and immature to begrudge him that. He’d been their dream son—and had grown up to follow in their footsteps. Of course they were proud of him.

      If only they were proud of her, too.

      She glanced toward the shelf where her illustrated books were displayed and bit her tongue in punishment for the self-pitying thought. They were proud of her. It just wasn’t quite as obvious as their pride in Eddie. That was only natural. He was working in their field, following up on what they’d taught him through the years.

      She felt Eddie’s gaze through her thoughts, and broke free of her musings to glance СКАЧАТЬ