英语阅读笔记-Book Lovers Day 06

Part 1

I briefly consider waving toward my four-inch suede heels next, but I don’t want to give the universe the satisfaction of leaning into the cliche’.
An acre or two back is Sally’s place.
Libby accepts the scrap of paper.
Her bark of laughter is lost beneath the roar of Hardy Weatherbee’s car reversing down the road like a bat out of hell.
“Well”, she winces, hunching her shoulders.
The climb is steep, the heat sweltering, but when we crest the hill and it is perfect: a winding path through shaggy, overgrown gardens to a small white cottage.
Its window are ancient single-paneled, and shutter-less and the only accent on the wall visible to us is a pale green arc of vines painted over the first-floor window.
At the back of the house, gnarled trees press close.
A gazebo twined with wild grape stands within a smaller copse of trees.
Sparkling glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders sway in the branches.
Quaint, Perfect.

My hearts swells.
We starts up the final steps, inhaling the softly sweet smell of warm grass.
Before things amped with my career.
It could not be more obvious that we’re cut from the same cloth: books, skin care products.
A wistfully happy sound that folds over me like sunshine.
The only place that delivers here is a pizza parlor.
Not that she was in the acting business for the money(she was optimistic, not deluded).
She’d set me and Libby up with books or crayons for the length of her shift, or the occasional nannying job lax enough to tote us along with until I was eleven.
Wandering the city with street cart falafel or dollar pizza slices as big as our heads, dreaming up grand futures.
We can’t even get an order of pad Thai brought to the door.
I jog her shoulder.
“…”, I say, trying to sound enticing.
Don’t you want to see the apothecary where Old Man Whittake almost overdoses?
Hair scrubbed into a blunt little pony tail.