"Cabot, Meg - 1-800-Where-R-You 04 - Sanctuary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cabot Meg)

and Shop."
"Nate may have been involved with some unsavory individuals back in Chicago," my
dad said. "But everybody's entitled to a fresh new start. That's one of the
ideals this country was founded on, anyway."
"He's probably out there right now," Great-aunt Rose said, with certain relish,
"with his little gang friends, getting high on reefer cigarettes."
Mike, Douglas, and I all exchanged glances. It was always amusing to hear
Great-aunt Rose use the word "reefer."
My mom apparently didn't find it very amusing, though, since she said, in a
stern voice, "Don't be ridiculous, Rose. There are no drugs here. I mean, not in
this town."
I didn't think it would be politic to point out to my mom that the weekend
before, at theHello Dolly cast party (Claire, of course, had gotten the part of
Dolly), two kids (not Claire, obviously—she doesn't do drugs, as an actress's
body, she informed me, is her temple) had been hauled out by EMTs after imbibing
in a little too much Ecstasy. It is better in the long run that my mom be
shielded from these things.
"Can I be excused?" I asked, instead. "I have to run over to Joanne's house and
get those trig notes I was telling you about."
"MayI be excused," my mom said. "And no, you may not. It's Thanksgiving,
Jessica. You have three whole days off. You can pick up the notes tomorrow."
"You know somebody graffitied the overpass last week," Mrs. Lippman informed
everyone. "You can't even tell what it says. I never thought of it before now,
but supposing it's one of those … what do they call them, again? I saw it
onSixty Minutes . Oh, yes. A gang tag. I mean, I'm sure it's not. But what if it
is?"
"I can't get the notes tomorrow," I said. "Joanne's going to her grandma's
tomorrow. Tonight's the only time I can get them."
"Hush," my mom said.
"Reefer today," Great-aunt Rose said, shaking her head. "Heroin tomorrow."
"You don't know anybody named Joanne," Douglas leaned over to whisper in my ear.
"Mom," I said, ignoring Douglas. Which was kind of mean, on account of it had
taken a lot for him even to come down to dinner at all. Douglas is not what
you'd call the most sociable guy. In fact, antisocial is more the word for it,
really. But he's gotten a little better since he started a job at a local comic
book store. Well, better for him, anyway.
"Come on, Mom," I said. "I'll be back in less than an hour." This was a total
lie, but I was hoping that she'd be so busy with her guests and everything, she
wouldn't even notice I wasn't home yet.
"Jessica," my dad said, signaling for me to help him start gathering people's
plates. "You'll miss pie."
"Save a piece of each for me," I said, reaching out to grab the plates nearest
me, then following him into the kitchen. "Please?"
My dad, after rolling his eyes at me a little, finally tilted his head toward
the driveway. So I knew it was okay.
"Take Ruth with you," my dad said, as I was pulling my coat down from its hook
by the garage door.
"Aw, Dad," I said.
"You have a learner's permit," my dad said. "Not a license. You may not get
behind the wheel without a licensed driver in the passenger seat."