"Babysitters Club 011 Kristy And The Snobs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Babysitters Club)

"Good-bye, Jeff!" Mrs. Schafer called upstairs. "Have fun with Dawn."
" 'Bye," was the sullen reply.
Dawn and her mother shrugged. Then Mrs. Schafer answered the bell and Dawn said hello to the Trip-Man. Finally Dawn closed the door behind her mom, and breathed a sigh of relief.
She began to get dinner ready. She set the table, put out whole-wheat rolls, and poured glasses of iced herbal tea. All the while, she knew she should be asking Jeff to help her (even if she was the baby-sitter), but it seemed better to leave him alone when he was in one of his moods.
When the casserole was ready, Dawn called Jeff to supper. He walked into the Schafers' old-fashioned kitchen, saw the table, and said, "It's Saturday. And Mom's not here. Why aren't we eating in front of the TV?"
"Because we'll turn into couch potatoes, that's why," said Dawn, trying to be funny.
Jeff grumbled some answer that Dawn couldn't understand, filled his plate, then began to carry it into the family room. "I want to watch Leave It to Beaver, not sit in here," he said over his shoulder.
"Then put your dinner on a tray," Dawn told him. "Otherwise you'll spill." She took two trays out of a cabinet, but before she could hand one to him, he shrugged away, saying, "And I won't spill. I don't need a tray. I am not a baby."
"Well, I'm using one, and I'm older than you are," Dawn retorted. She couldn't help sounding just a little cross.
Jeff ignored her and settled himself in the
family room, watching Leave It to Beaver. He balanced his plate on his knees and his glass on the arm of the couch. Dawn sat beside him.
Sure enough, about halfway through the program, Jeff knocked over his tea. As he dove to catch the glass before it hit the floor, the food slid off his plate, into his lap, and all over the couch.
"Oh, Jeff!" exclaimed Dawn, quickly setting her tray on the coffee table and getting to her feet.
Before she could say another word, Jeff was on his feet, too. "Don't say anything!" he yelled. "This wasn't my fault!"
"Oh, no? Well, whose fault was it?"
"You and Mom always treat me like a baby! I am not a baby! I'm in fifth grade!"
"Jeff," Dawn said, "you're the one who just knocked over his entire dinner."
Now maybe this wasn't the most tactful thing Dawn could have said, but it was true.
"If you'd treat me like a grown-up person I'd act like a grown-up person!" Jeff's voice rose. He was yelling. Not just talking loudly, but really shouting. "I don't need a baby-sitter! I'm too old for one. Mom treats me like a baby. You treat me like a baby. The only one who doesn't treat me like a baby is Dad."
"Whoa," said Dawn under her breath. Personally, she didn't think she and her mother babied Jeff at all. He was ten, the same age as the Pike triplets, whom the club members sit for all the time. In fact, Jeff was often on his own during the day, something Mrs. Pike rarely allows for the triplets.
"Jeff," Dawn began. He was facing her angrily while tea seeped into the couch and eggplant casserole dripped down the front of his jeans.
"Shut up!" cried Jeff. "Just shut up! I hate it here. I miss California. I hate living with you and Mom! I wish I lived with Dad."
Jeff left the mess on the couch, ran upstairs, and locked himself in his room. Dawn decided it would be better to leave him alone. Slowly, she cleaned up the couch. Then she tried to finish her own dinner, but it was cold, so she cleaned up the kitchen instead.
Dawn told Mary Anne she felt stunned. (She called Mary Anne that evening while she was waiting for her mother to come home.) She said Jeff might as well have hit her. That was how bad she felt. Mary Anne isn't allowed to talk on the phone for more than ten minutes at a time, so Dawn had to hang up much sooner than she wanted. Then she called me.
She was really scared for Jeff. She'd seen him get angry plenty of times, but she'd never seen him act like this.
Mrs. Schafer had said she'd probably be home around twelve-thirty or one o'clock. Dawn knew she, had to wait up for her, but one o'clock seemed like centuries away, and Dawn was a nervous wreck. She tried to keep busy. She read a short ghost story, but when she was done, realized she hadn't paid a bit of attention and would have to read it again sometime. Finally, she just parked herself in front of the TV and watched one show after another until the Trip-Man brought her mother home.
As soon as Dawn heard the car in the driveway, she ran to the front hall and blinked the outside lights as a signal to her mother. Then she flung open the front door. Mrs. Schafer was already halfway up the walk.
"Mom! Mom!" called Dawn.
"Honey, what on earth is wrong? Are you and Jeff all right?"
"I am, but Jeff isn't," Dawn replied as her mother stepped into the house.
Dawn told Mrs. Schafer everything that had happened. "He said he wants to go back to California, Mom," she finished up. "And he sounds like he means it."
Mrs. Schafer had turned slightly pale. "Oh,
boy," she said. "Maybe that trip to California this summer wasn't a good idea. It must have made him homesick."
"Well, it made me homesick," Dawn admitted, "but I still wanted to come back to Connecticut - and you."
"Thanks, honey," said her mother, giving Dawn a little hug. "I guess you and Jeff are just different. Everybody always says a boy needs his father. I thought that was very old-fashioned, but maybe it's true."
"Mom, you're not going to send Jeff back to Dad, are you?" Dawn was horrified. "We wouldn't be a family then. We'd be split in half."
"Oh, Dawn. We'll always be a family. But don't worry. I couldn't just send Jeff back to your father, even if I wanted to. At least not right away. I have custody of him. Legal custody. But I do think I better talk to your father. And," Mrs. Schafer added, "you better go to bed. It's one-thirty. You'll be a zombie tomorrow
Dawn went to bed reluctantly. She noticed that Jeff's light was out and wondered when he'd gone to bed. She hadn't seen him since he'd run upstairs during dinner.
In the next room, Mrs. Schafer phoned Dawn's father. It was only ten-thirty in California.
Not too late. Dawn pressed her ear against the wall and tried to overhear her mother's end of the conversation, but the words were muffled. She could tell that her mother was upset, though. Dawn sighed. Her family was just getting used to being divorced. She'd thought the bad times were over. Now, she wasn't so sure.
Chapter 8.
"Come to order," I said listlessly. I said it so listlessly that nobody heard me and I had to repeat myself. It was pathetic. I tapped a pencil on the edge of Claudia's desk and wished I had a gavel.
It was a gloomy day, gloomy outside and gloomy inside. Nobody felt like having a meeting of the Baby-sitters Club. Dawn and I were depressed. Claudia was mad because she'd flunked a spelling test. Mary Anne was upset because her kitten, Tigger, had worms. And Stacey was upset because she had a doctor's appointment coming up and she hates doctor's appointments.
"We're in order," said Mary Anne. "Sort of."
"Any club business?" I asked.
My friends shook their heads.
"Boy, what a lousy, stinky, rotten day," I commented.
"Yeah," agreed the others.
"Have I told you about the Snob family?" I asked. "Amanda and Max?"
"You mean the Delaneys?" said Mary Anne, frowning down at the client list in our record book.