New Year's Eve: A NovelCrown, 30. 5. 2012. - 366 страница Part contemporary family drama, part ghost story, this engrossing novel dramatizes the difficult process of letting go of one's childhood to embrace one's new chosen family. This is the story of twin sisters, their children, and an accident that claims the life of one, and leaves the others to find their way away from, and back to each other. |
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... him, content to enjoy the joke she'd made, just as, often, she was content to enjoy the confusion she made, or the sorrow. I didn't laugh with them. I couldn't. I felt awful for Dad. For years, he'd been growing old gracefully,
... him, content to enjoy the joke she'd made, just as, often, she was content to enjoy the confusion she made, or the sorrow. I didn't laugh with them. I couldn't. I felt awful for Dad. For years, he'd been growing old gracefully,
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... couldn't sleep myself. At five in the afternoon, I finally managed to take the shower that I'd been wanting to take all day. I left the door to the bathroom wide open. I put Sarah's basket three feet away. And even so, when I rinsed my ...
... couldn't sleep myself. At five in the afternoon, I finally managed to take the shower that I'd been wanting to take all day. I left the door to the bathroom wide open. I put Sarah's basket three feet away. And even so, when I rinsed my ...
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... couldn't stop watching her sleep. After nine months of waiting for time to pass, it seemed that I was still waiting. What I was waiting for was a time when I would feel that she was safe. I did not know how to love her. But the sweet ...
... couldn't stop watching her sleep. After nine months of waiting for time to pass, it seemed that I was still waiting. What I was waiting for was a time when I would feel that she was safe. I did not know how to love her. But the sweet ...
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... couldn't explain it. “He doesn't even hear her,” I whispered to Heather that night on the telephone. It was midnight, and we were both nursing our babies, in separate apartments, by separate lamps. “You mean the perfect man isn't ...
... couldn't explain it. “He doesn't even hear her,” I whispered to Heather that night on the telephone. It was midnight, and we were both nursing our babies, in separate apartments, by separate lamps. “You mean the perfect man isn't ...
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arms asked Heather auld lang syne Aunt Heather baby bedroom birthday called Heather child couch crying Dad asked Dad's Daddy David David's dead doctor dollhouse door dream Dryope Duck Duck Goose Edgar asked Erica eyes father feel felt flowers Frank Briggs Freedo girl going Guy Lombardo hair hand happy hear heard Heather asked Heather called Heather says Heather told heaven hugged Jeffrey kids kiss kitchen knew Koenig laughed living room looked Mary Poppins miss Mom's Mommy morning mother myth never night nodded nurse okay petits fours play Play-Doh Playmobil pregnant remember Richard Rosie Sarah asked schnook seemed shouted shrugged sister sitting sleep smiled sonogram sorry Spock stared started stood sure sweetheart talk tell There's things thought took trying turned twins waiting walked watched weeks What's whispered woke wondered Year's Eve