The Grief of Others by Leah Hager Cohen

Author:Leah Hager Cohen [Cohen, Leah Hager]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2011-08-09T07:00:00+00:00

3.

For the second time in less than two weeks a daughter of John Ryrie’s was riding in his car. Gordie nearly made the observation out loud, but checked himself, turning, instead, to glance at her. Jess smiled back, her teeth gleaming apple-white, as if this were all perfectly normal, confirming Gordie’s sense that he was incapable of judging normalcy.

His palms were sweaty on the wheel. Certainly, he was a bit giddy, a bit revved by the unexpected turn of events. What his dad would’ve called in a froth. “What are you all in a froth about, then, eh?” Imagine how surprised his dad would’ve been to learn it had to do with a girl. Behind him, Ebie whined, panted a moment, then closed her jaws as if in forbearance.

He’d been encouraged by Jess’s friendliness in the park. Never mind that she kept calling him Jordie (he hadn’t managed to correct her), she’d known right away who he was. She’d been the one, actually, to initiate contact. Well: as far as Jess knew, she’d been the one to initiate contact.That was what mattered.

In fact he’d taken Ebie walking in Memorial Park several times over the past ten days, at calculatedly varied times, in hopes of “running into” any of the Ryries. He’d spotted Jess that morning first thing on arrival, and if he’d had any doubts that it was she, Ebie dispelled them by trotting right over, tail awag in recognition. He’d called her sharply away, mortified to think the dog’s forwardness might be construed as his own.

And then, although he’d observed from the corner of his eye Jess prop herself on her elbows and study them, Gordie had pretended not to recognize her: he’d given Ebie all his attention, immersed himself in this game of stick throwing with unusual intensity, the result being every aspect of it felt foolish, artificial. Here I am, athletic and good-natured. Here I am, loving my dog, who loves me. Here I am, lovable. Despite the knowledge that he was straining, that the whole thing was a bit of a charade, what singing good fortune he’d felt in his heart.To be noticed, to be aware of being watched, was like having a long thirst slaked. And she did watch, he saw. Once, she laughed. He felt elated and ashamed. It was very like another time he’d successfully gained notice through contrivance: last year when he’d tripped over a root in the woods in front of Hugh Chaudhuri.

Hugh Chaudhuri was built like Gordie, short and lean, with dark hair he wore shaggy and glossy dark eyes that had the power to melt anyone, girl or guy. His androgyny was undeniably part of his appeal, even as it added to Gordie’s confusion about his own proclivities. There’d been a drinking party in the woods—Gordie’s virgin foray into that kind of thing, the unsanctioned gatherings high schoolers held in locations lacking proper addresses (“the rez,” “the Hook,” “behind the tennis courts”). The invitation had come about by fluke:

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.