about, haven't I?"
Her smile brightened to a fierce brilliance. "Let her!" She sat down defiantly next to him, touched his arm lightly. "I don't care what she says about me, because she would hate me no matter what."
"Why's that?" he asked softly. He asked, because he had the feeling she wanted to tell him but was holding back.
His skin tingled under her touch, and he was excruciatingly aware of every inch o f his body. He should draw back, and yet he never wanted to move away.
She moved her hand , leaving his skin forlorn and lonely. She reached up, and smoothed back her red hair. "She was glad enough to have a new neighbor, until she learned I'm Jewish."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I know what you mean." And he did. There were plenty of people who looked down on h im for his being Jewish. It was something he'd grown up with, adjusted to because it was a fact of life, but never really stopped hating. That someone could despise another person for this and this alone; it meant the world was broken in a severe way.
And it was clearly not just a ll talk, when Jewish people had been killed by the millions to eradicate them from the earth. It had happened in their lifetime. Looking at Ellie now, he saw in her eyes the sorrow he felt in his own heart when he thought of them, the ones who would never grow up. He'd lost many relatives, including several young cousins he'd grown up playing with in Germany before the War. He and his family almost never spoke of their losses; it was too painful. But they were often in his thoughts. He wondered what sort of men his cousins would have grown into, and he missed them. So many lives cut short, for no reason beside hate.
He pushed the thoughts away now, at least as far as he could, and made an effort to smile at her. " I'm sorry she's so hateful." And now it was his turn to touch her hand, almost without realizing it, till he felt the little jolt of electric attraction between them and realized.
What was it about this woman that he couldn't seem to look away from her, and wanted at every moment to touch her, to press his face against her beautiful red hair and just inhale the scent of her?
She was staring at him now. And he was staring at her. And thoughts of hate were the last things on their minds.
And he knew that if he stared for one moment longer, with her soft, appealing face so close and wistful and full of longing, that he would kiss her. He got up quickly, and moved to check the puppies, his heart pounding. How dare I? How dare I even think of it, when she's put herself in such a compromising position?
Mentally castigating himself, he looked down at the little animals, judged them well asleep, but still didn't move.
Behind him, Ellie left the room quietly. He regretted her absence, but was grateful for the chance to breathe, to collect himself and make himself behave.
"Mr. Silverberg," said Ellie as she returned to the kitchen . She spoke surprisingly formally and sounded close to tears.
Had he hurt her so much, already? He'd thought he could only hurt Judith without knowing how he'd done so. He turned anxiously to face Ellie.
She stood in front of him, her face pinched and pale, her mouth turned down, her eyes large and looking ridiculously close to tears. She held out his clothes. The jacket had shrunk by at least two sizes; he could probably have fit it when he had his bar mitzvah. "I'm so very sorry. I apparently shouldn't have d-dried it in the dryer."
He laughed as he accepted the clothing; he couldn't help it. He met her gaze, smiling. "It's all right. I needed a new jacket anyway. And I didn't know, either." He wished he could kiss her, anything to take that look of bitter self-recrimination off her sad face.
"I should have." She turned away and moved to the table, touching the letters, moving them slightly with her fingers, but clearly not seeing them. "I shall, of course, pay for a new one."
"It's not necessary," he said. "And I do appreciate you washing them no
Her smile brightened to a fierce brilliance. "Let her!" She sat down defiantly next to him, touched his arm lightly. "I don't care what she says about me, because she would hate me no matter what."
"Why's that?" he asked softly. He asked, because he had the feeling she wanted to tell him but was holding back.
His skin tingled under her touch, and he was excruciatingly aware of every inch o f his body. He should draw back, and yet he never wanted to move away.
She moved her hand , leaving his skin forlorn and lonely. She reached up, and smoothed back her red hair. "She was glad enough to have a new neighbor, until she learned I'm Jewish."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I know what you mean." And he did. There were plenty of people who looked down on h im for his being Jewish. It was something he'd grown up with, adjusted to because it was a fact of life, but never really stopped hating. That someone could despise another person for this and this alone; it meant the world was broken in a severe way.
And it was clearly not just a ll talk, when Jewish people had been killed by the millions to eradicate them from the earth. It had happened in their lifetime. Looking at Ellie now, he saw in her eyes the sorrow he felt in his own heart when he thought of them, the ones who would never grow up. He'd lost many relatives, including several young cousins he'd grown up playing with in Germany before the War. He and his family almost never spoke of their losses; it was too painful. But they were often in his thoughts. He wondered what sort of men his cousins would have grown into, and he missed them. So many lives cut short, for no reason beside hate.
He pushed the thoughts away now, at least as far as he could, and made an effort to smile at her. " I'm sorry she's so hateful." And now it was his turn to touch her hand, almost without realizing it, till he felt the little jolt of electric attraction between them and realized.
What was it about this woman that he couldn't seem to look away from her, and wanted at every moment to touch her, to press his face against her beautiful red hair and just inhale the scent of her?
She was staring at him now. And he was staring at her. And thoughts of hate were the last things on their minds.
And he knew that if he stared for one moment longer, with her soft, appealing face so close and wistful and full of longing, that he would kiss her. He got up quickly, and moved to check the puppies, his heart pounding. How dare I? How dare I even think of it, when she's put herself in such a compromising position?
Mentally castigating himself, he looked down at the little animals, judged them well asleep, but still didn't move.
Behind him, Ellie left the room quietly. He regretted her absence, but was grateful for the chance to breathe, to collect himself and make himself behave.
"Mr. Silverberg," said Ellie as she returned to the kitchen . She spoke surprisingly formally and sounded close to tears.
Had he hurt her so much, already? He'd thought he could only hurt Judith without knowing how he'd done so. He turned anxiously to face Ellie.
She stood in front of him, her face pinched and pale, her mouth turned down, her eyes large and looking ridiculously close to tears. She held out his clothes. The jacket had shrunk by at least two sizes; he could probably have fit it when he had his bar mitzvah. "I'm so very sorry. I apparently shouldn't have d-dried it in the dryer."
He laughed as he accepted the clothing; he couldn't help it. He met her gaze, smiling. "It's all right. I needed a new jacket anyway. And I didn't know, either." He wished he could kiss her, anything to take that look of bitter self-recrimination off her sad face.
"I should have." She turned away and moved to the table, touching the letters, moving them slightly with her fingers, but clearly not seeing them. "I shall, of course, pay for a new one."
"It's not necessary," he said. "And I do appreciate you washing them no
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