"Ruth Reichl - Tender at the Bone V1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reichl Ruth)

"Tell her there's food," I said, scraping the matzo brei onto a platter and sprinkling it with salt. I put out plates and watched the heap of food disappear as my friends helped themselves and scattered into different rooms. Tommy was the last to go. Alone with him I grew so embarrassed that I took a plate, said, "I'll just take this to Julie," and fled.
"Stupid idiot," I chided myself as I walked away from him.
Linda was bending over Julie's weeping form, but she looked up as I came in and shrugged. Julie's face was hot, red, puffy. She would never tell us why she was crying and we all felt slightly guilty, wondering what we'd done. I thought maybe it was my fault; when Julie told me that she had given in to Bill, actually gotten naked, I was too horrified to hide my reaction. "How could you?" I cried. Her face had crumpled. Bill had his own reasons for feeling guilty. Maybe Linda did too. Months later, when Julie's father skipped town and her mother slipped into a world of her own, we understood her crying had nothing to do with us.
"Why didn't you tell me things were so terrible at home?" I demanded. "I'm your best friend!"
She just shrugged. "We all have parent problems," she said, "Besides, what could you have done?"
We did our best. Linda wandered around the room, looking for material. "Oh, what's this?" she said, picking up a bra from the top of my dresser. "A swimming pool for ants?" Julie giggled inadvertently as I crossed my arms and covered my chest. Linda looked
momentarily stricken. "Don't be embarrassed," she said, "it's not your fault you're the only senior with big tits."
"I'm just fat," I said miserably. "The tits are part of the package."
"You're not fat!" said Julie, momentarily forgetting her own problems. "You're just a little plump." And then, together, we all chorused the line I heard every day of my life, "You'd be so pretty if you'd just lose a little weight."
"Whoever heard of a thin cook?" said Bobby, coming to join us. I suspected that Troy and Gloria were snuggling on the sofa and Bill and Tommy were talking about cars.
"Let's do something!" said Bobby.
We were coming down from all the alcohol. For once nobody was sick. Two years earlier we would have played tag or spin the bottle and two years later we would be smoking dope. But here it was, eleven o'clock on a Friday night and none of us knew what to do. I put on some records but nobody had enough energy for the Shirelles. And so I said the first thing that came into my head:
"Let's bake a cake!"
"Ah, Home Economics," said Bobby and I immediately felt ridiculous. It was such a Bobbsey Twins sort of idea. My friends were way too cool to cook. Tommy would think I was a jerk.
"Chocolate!" said Linda. "Let's bake a great big chocolate cake and then eat it all!"
"With that fluffy white frosting," said Julie. "You know, the kind that looks like snow?"
Tommy and Bill were still talking about cars, but they seemed to think a cake was a good idea. "Imagine Miss Hill walking in now," said Bobby. Our least favorite teacher had once actually called my mother to warn her that Julie was a bad influence on me, that I was hanging around with what she called "greasers." But of course my mother wasn't home, and so it was not she who replied, in her deepest voice, "Thank you so much, Mrs. Hill, I can't tell you how grateful I am for your interest in my child."
Tommy was so near I could smell the mixture of cigarettes, soap, English Leather, and motorcycle oil that clung to him. I squeezed my eyes shut, hard, and prayed, "Make him like me." I needed a drink. "Who wants a Seven-and-Seven?" I asked.

"I'll make a pitcher," said Linda, going for the ice cubes.
I began to sift flour for the cake and Bobby put on an apron. I felt someone come up behind me and the smell of English Leather became more intense. "You smell like sugar and butter," said Tommy. I could hardly believe it. Me? Suddenly I felt bold and beautiful. I dabbed a little vanilla behind my ears.
"Like my perfume?" I asked. His breath came closer and he nuzzled my neck. "Mmmm," he whispered, "delicious."
"Tommy's doing the cakewalk," said Bobby.
"You just keep creaming that butter," said Linda, and everybody burst out laughing.
By midnight I was drunk again. Tommy kept watching me and every once in a while he came close and accidentally brushed against my breasts. They felt as if they were on fire. "This is how I imagined chemistry class would be," I blurted out.
"Oh yes," said Linda. "Mr. Allston's night chemistry for wayward teenagers. It's a special class; who wants to lick the bowl?"
Julie had stopped crying. The kitchen was a mess. Flour was whirling in the air. Tommy helped me pour the batter into the greased pans and after we put the cake into the oven he pulled me out to the living room, put on some slow music, and we danced. The bell kept ringing and other kids kept coming in the door, but I was oblivious to everything but the feel of his body against mine. He started kissing me, slowly, and I inhaled his scent, thinking how nice he was.
"The cake!" I cried suddenly, but he didn't stop. "Don't worry," he said, "someone else will take it out of the oven." I imagined black smoke pouring out of the kitchen, the house burning down. I didn't care. It was my first kiss. Tommy maneuvered me over to
the sofa and we lay down together, gently. I snuggled up against him. For a brief moment I wondered what it would be like to be married to a mechanic. And then I fell asleep.



Nothing terrible had happened. The throbbing in my head abated a bit. Then I looked at the living room and panicked. My mother would go crazy if she came in now.
Tommy watched my face and rubbed my cheek gently. "Don't worry" he said. "Make some coffee. I'll get everybody up."
"Forget the coffee," I said, "we've got to get these glasses and ashtrays out of here. It smells like a brewery. Let's open the windows and air the place out."
"Well, that will wake people up," he said reasonably. As he began throwing the windows open I went from room to room, discovering one disaster after another.
Julie and Bill were in my parents' bed. I averted my eyes as I implored them to wake up. Bill was snoring, but Julie took one look at the sun in the sky and jumped out of bed. She had nothing on. "I'll get him up," she said, "don't worry. We'll get this room cleaned up."
Gloria and Troy were in my bed; I didn't want to know what they were wearing. Or what they weren't. Linda and Bobby were in separate twin beds in the guest room. "Oh my God," said Linda, "I passed out. I told my parents I was going to Gloria's and she told her parents she was coming to my house. I'll be grounded until I'm a hundred!"
She began pulling up sheets and picking up ashtrays. She shook Bobby. "Get those guys in the living room out of here," she ordered.
The oven was still on in the kitchen but at least someone had thought to take the cake out. It sat on the counter, still in the pan, looking wrinkled, brown and uninviting. The room was a
shambles, cracked eggshells on the floor and cigarettes snuffed out in the middle of plates. I was frantic, darting from one mess to the other.
Tommy came into the room carrying a garbage bag. "Calm down," he said soothingly, "I got everybody up. They all look decent," He peered at me and added, "Maybe you'd like to go, you know, sort of splash some water on your face? Just in case your parents come in?"
I went to the kitchen sink. "No," he said, pushing me toward the bathroom. "You need a mirror." He was right. I went upstairs to put on a clean shirt and each step reverberated through my body, hitting my head like an upside-down hammer.
But when I got downstairs Tommy had organized everything. "It's all figured out,' he said. "First we clean up all the booze and cigarettes and throw them in the cars. We make the beds. Then we pile all the dirty dishes onto the dining-room table as if we've just had breakfast."
"Brilliant," said Linda. "Why on earth would we all come over here at six in the morning for breakfast?"
"What if we had an early morning science project?" said Tommy. "You know, calculating the effect of the rising sun on birds or something?"
Linda turned to me. "Are your parents going to believe that?" she asked. "Mine would never fall for such a stupid story."
Mine, I knew, would. My mother would be pleased that I had made so many friends in my new school, even if they weren't the right sort. She'd think it was a sign that I was well adjusted.
"Maybe we won't have to use the story," said Tommy. "Maybe we'll get everything cleaned up and everyone out of here before they come home. It's just a contingency plan."
"Ooh," said Linda, "big word!"