Wrinkles of confusion rippled across Holly’s forehead as she opened the gift from her best friend, Susan.
“I...I thought you could use it for something.” Susan’s stammered explanation did nothing to help us understand why a twelve-by-eighteen-inch dark blue carpet remnant(残余物) was being presented as a birthday gift.
Holly, my daughter, tried bravely not to allow her disappointment to show. She laid the carpet on the kitchen counter, and the two girls headed outside to play.
The next morning, I carried a kitchen bag outside. My heart ached as I saw Susan’s carpet lying in the trash can. Hesitating only a moment, I reached in and picked it up. After giving it a light brushing, I brought it into the house and placed it in the hall closet. Occupied with the business of daily living, the carpet was soon forgotten.
Prior to Holly’s birthday, Susan had been a regular visitor in our home. On several occasions, she rode the bus home with Holly and was one of the few friends ever permitted to stay over on a school night. But now I realized it had been nearly three weeks since we’d even heard mention of Susan’s name. I missed her warm smile and eager-to-please ways.
One day, Holly had arrived home from school. “Susan invited me to come over to her house after school tomorrow,” she announced as she took her books down on the kitchen table. Although her voice carried a so-what attitude, I sensed she was pleased by the invitation.
Arrangements were made, and the girls rode home together on the school bus the following day. As I negotiated the winding country road that led to her house, Susan chatted nervously about her foster mom and the seventeen cats she had taken in and cared for. Soon we arrived at Susan’s house.
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A woman wearing a shapeless sweater stood in the doorway to greet us as we approached the small shabby farmhouse.
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Hearing my words about everything of Susan, Holly sat silently in the car, with her head stretching forward(前伸) as if willing the car to move faster.
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