An Offer

“Michael’s?” Jess said. She looked at the roll on the plate, then at her grandfather. Her voice was suddenly sharp. “What do you mean, Michael’s? Grandad, he’s been gone for fifteen years. Ana made those rolls. You just said so yourself.”

“迈克尔的？”杰丝说。她看了看盘子里的圆面包，又看了看她的爷爷。她的声音突然变得很尖。“你说迈克尔的是什么意思？爷爷，他已经走了十五年了。这些圆面包是安娜做的。刚才你自己也是这么说的。”

Walter didn’t answer her. He was still looking at Ana. Ana stood by the sink with a wet box in her hands and did not move. She knew that if she opened her mouth, the truth would come out. So she kept it closed, and it was the hardest thing she had ever done. The clock on the wall seemed very loud.

沃尔特没有回答她。他还在看着安娜。安娜手里拿着一个湿盒子，站在水槽边一动也不动。她知道如果自己开口，真相就会说出来。所以她紧紧闭着嘴，这是她做过的最难的事。墙上的钟声听起来好像格外响。

Then something in Walter’s face closed, slowly, like a heavy door. He looked down at the roll. “No,” he said. “No, that’s impossible. Of course it is.” He pushed the plate away with his good hand. “You bake like him, that’s all. You learned from me, and he learned from me. Some hands remember the same things. That’s all it is.”

接着，沃尔特的表情慢慢变了，像关上了一扇沉重的大门。他低头看着那个圆面包。“不，”他说，“不，那不可能。当然不可能。”他用没坏的那只手把盘子推开。“你只是烤面包像他，仅此而已。你跟我学的，他也是跟我学的。有些人的手会记住一样的东西。就是这样。”