"Shirley Damsgaard - Witch Hunt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Damsgaard Shirley)

One
The honeymoon was over. The sweet, quiet thirteen-year-old girl from last August had now, in May,
morphed into a drama queen. In the evening, my phone rang constantly with calls from her friend, Nell,
whom sheтАЩd spent the entire day with at school. One would think theyтАЩd talked over everything there, but
evidently they still had important issues to discuss. Every weekend there was some event that required
her attendance. And if she didnтАЩt go, she said sheтАЩd die. For a thirty-something librarian who had lived a
peaceful life, becoming a foster mother was a change that had left me reeling. I was in over my head.

My beloved grandmother sat at her kitchen table and listened to my tale of woe with a small smile playing
at the corner of her mouth. Her green eyes held a distinct twinkle.

тАЬYou think this is funny, donтАЩt you?тАЭ I said, leaning up against the counter in AbbyтАЩs kitchen.

Her smile widened while she tucked a stray strand of silver hair back into the heavy braid coiled at the
top of her head. In her seventies, her face bore the traces of the lovely young woman my grandfather had
brought to Iowa all those years ago. And when she smiled, that young woman seemed to peek out.

тАЬYes, I do. I can recall similar conversations I had with your mother when you were a teenager,тАЭ she said
in a voice still rich with the tempo of the Appalachian Mountains where sheтАЩd spent her girlhood.

I frowned. тАЬWait a second. I never spent hours on the phone every night after school. And most of my
weekends were at the library, not running around some mall.тАЭ

тАЬThatтАЩs right.тАЭ She nodded. тАЬYou did spend most weekends studying, but I do recall one weekend at
HalloweenтАФтАЭ

тАЬHey, that wasnтАЩt my idea. Linda had a crush on the deanтАЩs son. She wanted to get his attention.тАЭ

AbbyтАЩs laugh rang out. тАЬWell, you succeeded. You not only got the sonтАЩs attention, but the deanтАЩs and
the campus police.тАЭ

I lowered my eyes and traced the toe of my shoe across the wooden floor of AbbyтАЩs rustic kitchen. The
smell of wood smoke from her cook stove mingled with the scent of the dried herbs hanging from the
open beams, as I remembered all too well the incident Abby was referring to. My girlfriend, Linda,
thought she was madly in love with the deanтАЩs son, but he wouldnтАЩt give her the time of day, so one
Halloween we decided to change all that and decorate every bush and tree in his yard with toilet paper.
The pristine white streamers looked lovely waving in the moonlight, or at least we thought so until the
campus police rolled up the driveway and busted us. Not a good situation to be in when both your
parents are professors and the dean is your motherтАЩs boss.

I think I got grounded for a month over that little escapade.

AbbyтАЩs voice jarred me out of my trip down memory lane. тАЬAnd then there was the time you and
LindaтАФтАЭ

тАЬOkay, okay,тАЭ I grumbled. тАЬI get it. I put my mother through my share of drama, too.тАЭ

She walked over to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. тАЬItтАЩs going to be all right, Ophelia. Kids
donтАЩt come with instruction manuals. All you can do is love them.тАЭ