"Martin, Ann M - BSC031 - Dawn's Wicked Stepsister" - читать интересную книгу автора (Martin Ann M)

"I can't believe you're moving," she said fervently to Mary Anne. "Oh, hi, Mr. Spier. Hi, Mrs. Scha - Mrs. Spier." Claud rushed on. "You and Kristy always lived across the street from me. Then Kristy left, and now you're
leaving, Mary Anne. The triangle is completely broken up."
Now why did Claud have to go and say that? Of course, Mary Anne started to cry. To make things worse, the moving van arrived then. It pulled into the Spiers' driveway.
Mary Anne's tears fell faster. "I don't want to leave," she said. "I've never lived anywhere but here."
I began to feel guilty. Why? Because underneath the guilt I was excited. I couldn't wait for my new sister and father to get settled at our house. And I knew the only way that would happen was by making Mary Anne miserable. I didn't have much patience for her tears.
"Come on, sis," I said to her. "You know it's going to be great. We've both always wanted a sister."
Mary Anne watched the movers carry her dresser through the front door and load it into the van.
"Sis?" said Claudia.
We barely heard her. "There's my dresser," said Mary Anne. "It won't even fit in your - I mean, our - room. I'll have to put it in the guest room. Who ever heard of sleeping
in one room and keeping your dresser in another?"
"But the rest of your clothes will hang in my closet," I told her. "We made room, remember?"
"Of course I remember," snapped Mary Anne. "I'm not stupid."
Well, obviously Mary Anne wasn't in as good a mood as I was. She must be one of those people who gets crabby if she doesn't have enough sleep.
She and Claud and Jeff and I stood on the lawn and watched the movers. Mary Anne's eyes misted up as each item came out of her house - even stupid things, like boxes marked CLEANING SUPPLIES.
And she wasn't cheered when neighbors started dropping over with good-bye presents. First Mrs. Kishi came by with a casserole.
"I don't think you'll be doing much cooking today," she said.
Mary Anne cried.
Then Stacey and Mal (whose houses are back to back) came over with brownies they'd baked together.
Mary Anne sobbed.
Then Myriah and Gabbie Perkins, who had
moved into Kristy's old house next door, came over with a bunch of flowers they'd picked.
Mary Anne became a gusher.
I was relieved when the van was finally loaded, we'd said our good-byes, and my new family had climbed into the Spiers' car and followed the van to my house. I thought Mary Anne would cheer up once she was away from her house.
But, no.
She turned into the Crab Queen.
"I can't believe we gave our sofa to the Salvation Army," she said, looking around our living room, which was now on the crowded side.
"There wasn't any room for it," I pointed out. I didn't bother to add that Tigger had clawed it and the stuffing was coming out. It was awful-looking. Why would we want it?
Later, Mary Anne and I went upstairs to our bedroom. It now held two beds, two desks, and an extra bookcase, plus several cartons of Mary Anne's possessions. Originally, we'd thought we could fit her dresser in the room, too, but as I already said, we couldn't. The room was just too crowded. It looked like a furniture warehouse. We kept tripping over things.
"I'm sure it'll seem better when your boxes are unpacked," I said. "At least they won't take up space."
Mary Anne sort of grunted.
Just then we heard mewing.
"Oh, that's Tigger!" cried Mary Anne. "Where is he? I bet he thinks he's lost."
Mary Anne rushed into the hall, found Tigger, scooped him up, and brought him into our room. "Poor thing," she said, stroking his back. "He's all disoriented. I don't blame you a bit for crying, Tiggy." (I rolled my eyes.)
Mary Anne should never have said that. She put Tigger down and he continued to wander around the house and mew for six hours. I thought he (and Mary Anne) would drive my mother insane.
They nearly drove the movers insane, too. Mary Anne kept jumping around them, exclaiming, "There's Tigger! Don't step on him! Don't let him out! Don't drop that chair on him!"
The rest of the time, Mary Anne moped. She didn't unpack the cartons in our room. She wasn't even cheered up by the bouquets of flowers that kept arriving all day. Everyone wanted to congratulate us, but Mary Anne couldn't have cared less.
By Sunday, she seemed better, though. Tigger was learning his way around our house, so he stopped mewing. And Mary Anne was forced to unpack her cartons because she needed the things that were in them. When everything had been put away, Mary Anne looked around our room. "You know," she said, "this isn't half bad."
I smiled. "Hey, I've got an idea. Let's pick out our clothes for school tomorrow, only you pick out one of my outfits, and I'll pick out one of yours."
"Okay!" Mary Anne actually smiled back at me. She even said, "This is fun . . . sis."
That night, Jeff had to fly back to Los Angeles. His visit had been short, but school was in session and Mom and Dad didn't want him to miss too much of it.
Jeff and I always travel to L.A. at night because of the time difference. It's three hours earlier in L.A., and the flight is about five hours long. So if we put Jeff on a plane that leaves around seven, he travels (Mom thinks he sleeps) for five hours, which means he arrives in L.A. around midnight our time - but only nine o'clock California time. Jeff could get
in a good night's sleep and even go to school the next day. A miracle of modern science.
All of us - Mom, Richard, Mary Anne, Jeff, and I - drove to the airport to see Jeff off. Our good-byes are usually pretty sad. But this time, Jeff seemed more concerned than sad. After he'd loaded up on comic books for the long flight, he pulled me away from everyone else.
"What is it?" I asked.
Jeff frowned. "I'm not sure. I used to like Mary Anne, but this weekend I didn't like her. And I don't think she likes us."
"Oh, come on, Jeff," I said. "She just didn't want to move."
"Well, it's going to be awhile before I come to Stoneybrook again. I think this new family is going to have some . . . trouble."
I had to admit that Jeff was right. Things hadn't gotten off to the greatest of starts. But they would improve . . . wouldn't they?
Jeff's plane was announced then, and our sad good-byes began. Jeff and Mom hugged. Jeff and I hugged. Mary Anne kissed Jeff awkwardly on the cheek. And Jeff shook Richard's hand and said, "Good-bye, sir."
Then my brother turned and walked onto the boarding ramp.