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Lydia was fifteen now, taller, and at school, when she tied her hair up and put on lipstick, she looked grown up.
莉迪亚现在15岁了，比以前高了。在学校，她扎起头发，涂上口红，看上去像个大人。
At home, she looked like the same startled five-year-old who had clung to his hand as they crawled back ashore.
在家里，她看起来就像那个受惊的五岁孩子，在爬上岸时紧紧抓住他的手。
When she stood near, the little-girl scent of her perfume—even its name childish, Baby Soft—wafted from her skin.
当她站在近旁时，她身上散发出一股小女孩的香水味，甚至连香水的名字“孩子气”都能从她的皮肤上闻到。
Ever since that summer, he had felt something still binding their ankles and tugging him off balance, fettering her weight to his.
从那年夏天开始，他就感到有什么东西还在束缚着他们的脚踝，使他失去平衡，把她的重量束缚在他身上。
For ten years, that something?had not loosened, and now it had begun to chafe.
十年来，这东西一点也没有松动，现在它已经开始摩动了。
All those years, as the only other person who understood their parents, he had absorbed her miseries, offering silent sympathy or a squeeze on the shoulder or a wry smile.
这么多年来，作为唯一一个了解父母的人，他已经承担了她的不幸，默默表示同情，或是耸耸肩，或者苦笑一下。
He would say, Mom's always bragging about you to Dr. Wolff. When I got that A-plus in chem, she didn't even notice.
他会说，妈妈总是在沃尔夫医生面前夸你。我在化学课上得了A+的时候，她都没注意到。
Or, Remember when I didn't go to the ninth grade formal? Dad said, "Well, I guess if you can't get a date?..." He had buoyed her up with how too much love was better than too little.
或者说，还记得我九年级时没有去参加毕业典礼吗？爸爸说：“我想万一你找不到约会对象……”他曾使她振作起来，告诉她爱得太多总比爱得太少好。
All that time, Nath let himself think only: When I get to college — He never completed the sentence, but in his imagined future, he floated away, untethered.
在这段时间里，纳只想着：等我上大学时——他从未说完这句话，但是在他想象的未来中，他无拘无束地漂了起来。
It was almost Christmas now, and still no letter from Harvard. Nath went into the living room without turning on the lamp, letting the colored lights on the tree guide his way.
快到圣诞节了，还是没有收到哈佛的信。纳没开灯就进了客厅，让树上的彩灯为他照明。
Each blackened windowpane reflected back a tiny Christmas tree. He would have to type new essays and wait for a second or third or fourth choice, or maybe he'd have to stay home forever.
每一块发黑的窗玻璃反射出一棵小小的圣诞树。他将不得不写新的申请书，等待第二、第三或第四志愿，否则他可能不得不永远待在家里。
His father's voice carried from the kitchen: "I think she'll really like it. As soon as I saw it, I thought of her." No need for an antecedent—in their family, she was always Lydia.
父亲的声音从厨房传来：“我想她会很喜欢的。我一看到它，就想起了她。”在他们家，她总是指莉迪亚。
As the Christmas lights blinked on and off, the living room appeared, dimly, then disappeared again.
圣诞灯忽明忽暗，客厅出现了，很模糊，然后又消失了。
Nath closed his eyes when the lights came on, opened them as they went off, so that he saw only uninterrupted darkness. Then the doorbell rang.
灯一亮，纳就闭上眼睛，灯灭了，他又睁开眼睛，看到的只是一片漆黑。这时门铃响了。
It was Jack—not yet suspicious in Nath's eyes, only long distrusted and disliked.
门外是杰克，在纳看来他还算不上可疑，只是长时间以来一直不受信任，不受欢迎。
Though it was below freezing, he wore just a hooded sweatshirt, half-zipped over a T-shirt Nath couldn't quite read. The hems of his jeans were frayed and damp from the snow.
气温在零度以下，但他只穿了一件连帽运动衫，拉链半拉着，里面是一件看不太清印字的T恤。牛仔裤的边磨破了，被雪打湿了。
He pulled his hand from his sweatshirt pocket and held it out. For a moment, Nath wondered if he was expected to shake it.
他从运动衫口袋里抽出一只手，拿出信。在那一刻，纳不知道是否应该接住它。
Then he saw the envelope pinched between Jack's fingers. "This came to our house," Jack said. "Just got home and saw it." He jabbed his thumb at the red crest in the corner.
杰克用手指夹着信封说：“你的信寄到我家了，我刚到家就看到了。”他用拇指戳了戳信封一角的红纹章。
"I guess you'll be going to Harvard, then." The envelope was thick and heavy, as if puffed with good news. "We'll see," Nath said. "It might be a rejection, right?"
“我猜你要去哈佛了。”信封又厚又重，像是被好消息吹得鼓鼓的。纳说：“我们会看着办，这也有可能是拒信。”
Jack didn't smile. "Sure," he said with a shrug. "Whatever." Without saying good-bye, he turned home, crushing a trail of footprints across the Lees' snowy yard.
杰克没有笑，耸耸肩说：“当然，随便”。他没有说再见，就转身回家了，在李家满是积雪的院子里踩出了一串脚印。
Nath shut the door and flipped on the living room light, weighing the envelope in both hands. All of a sudden the room felt unbearably hot.
纳关上门，打开客厅的灯，用双手掂量着信封的重量。房间突然热得让人受不了。
The flap came up in a ragged tear and he yanked out the letter, crumpling its edge. Dear Mr. Lee: Let us once again congratulate you on your early admission to the Class of 1981.
信封裂开了一道口子，他猛地把信抽出来，弄皱了信的边缘。信上写着：亲爱的李先生，再次祝贺你提前被录取为1981届的学生。
His joints went loose with relief. "Who was it?" Hannah, who had been listening from the hallway, peeked around the doorframe. "A letter"—Nath swallowed—"from Harvard."
他全身关节放松下来。“那是什么？”汉娜一直在走廊里偷听，从门框缝偷看。纳咽了口水说：“一封来自哈佛的信。”
Even the name tingled on his tongue. He tried to read the rest, but the text wouldn't focus. Congratulate. Once again.
连哈佛这个名字都让他舌尖发麻。他尝试阅读其余内容，但无法集中注意力。祝贺。再一次。
The mailman must have lost the first one, he thought, but it didn’t matter. Your admission. He gave up and grinned at Hannah, who tiptoed in and leaned against the couch.
他想，邮差一定是丢了第一个，但这无关紧要。您的录取通知书。他放弃了，朝汉娜咧嘴一笑，汉娜踮着脚走了进来，靠在沙发上。
