Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 37
Оглавление“I’m Lori,” she told Dorian. She said this with a giant deal of gravity, as if she were revealing one of the great secrets of the universe.
“Okay,” he said again.
The man clapped his hands together again. Dorian waited for a dove to appear or a coin to drop out of the air. None was forthcoming.
“Would you like to see your room, Dorian?”
“Can’t I go back to my old room?”
“Dorian, dear,” said Lori, and she took his hand in hers. Her hand felt cold, but smooth as if she’d put some sort of lotion on it. “I thought the social worker explained it…you’ll be staying here with us.”
“Can’t we stay at my house?”
“But, Dorian, this is where we live. And this is where you’re going to live now.” George told him, trying desperately to sound upbeat about it. “We’ll make a good home here for you.”
Obviously George and Lori weren’t getting it.
“I have a home,” Dorian explained, politely but firmly.
“Dorian…”
“You know what you need?” Lori suddenly said briskly. She didn’t clap and rub her hands. Instead she patted them on her knees. “Some nice, freshly baked cookies. Why don’t you go get your things unpacked, and I’ll whip up some cookies. Do you like chocolate chip?”
When Dorian nodded eagerly, she flicked a finger across the end of his nose in a playful manner.
JOHN GRAVAGLIA
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