Если я останусь

           "Shesaysthattheworldisdividedintothepeoplewhoimaginetheirownfuneralsandthepeoplewhodon’t,andthatsmartandartisticpeoplenaturallyfallintotheformercategory."

           "Sowhichareyou?"Adamaskedme.

           "I’dwantMozart’sRequiem,"Isaid.IturnedtoMomandDad."Don’tworry,I’mnotsuicidaloranything."

           "Please,"Momsaid,hermoodlighteningasshestirredhercoffee."WhenIwasgrowingupI’dhaveelaboratefantasiesaboutmyfuneral.Mydeadbeatfatherandallthefriendswho’dwrongedmewouldweepovermycasket,whichwouldbered,naturally,andthey’dplayJamesTaylor."

           "Letmeguess,"Willowsaid."‘FireandRain’?"

           MomnoddedandsheandWillowstartedlaughingandsooneveryoneatthetablewascrackingupsohardthattearsrandownourfaces.Andthenwewerecrying,evenme,whodidn’tknowKerryallthatwell.Cryingandlaughing,laughingandcrying.

           "Sowhatnow?"AdamaskedMomwhenwe’dcalmeddown."StillharborasoftspotforMr.Taylor?"

           Momstoppedandblinkedhard,whichiswhatshedoeswhenshe’sthinkingaboutsomething.ThenshereachedovertostrokeDad’scheek,araredemonstrationofPDA."Inmyidealscenario,mybigheartedpushoverhusbandandIdiequicklyandsimultaneouslywhenwe’reninety-twoyearsold.I’mnotsurehow.Maybewe’reonasafariinAfrica—’causeinthefuture,we’rerich;hey,it’smyfantasy—andwecomedownwithsomeexoticsicknessandgotosleeponenightfeelingfineandthenneverwakeup