"Nancy Springer - Snickerdoodles" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

His mother was up to something, Blake decided. And no telling what. Enola
BloodsworthтАЩs thoughts and plans were strictly her own. All of Diligence knew her,
yet she had no close friends. In a town full of couples and families she stood like a
blackthorn tree, in proud isolation. Backward, the name тАЬEnolaтАЭ spelled тАЬAlone.тАЭ

From what Blake had heard, his great-grandmother hadnтАЩt been mar-ried
either. He wondered if that long-dead Enola had done as his mother had done, taking
a man for purposes of in-semination then discarding him. His mother was quite frank
about his father: the man had been no more than a make-do in her life, she scarcely
remembered his face, his name was of no importance. She was just as frank about
her reason for having seduced her unlikely lover: she had wanted a child badly. Too
bad she got me, Blake thought. Probably she had been hoping for a girl to carry on
the rather eccentric Bloodsworth breed-ing tradition.

Never mind, Mom. Plenty of the guys in school keep telling me IтАЩm the next
best thing.

It was tough being small in Diligence, a steel-mill town where even the nouses
stood tall and square-shoul-dered like the cock-of-the-walk foot-ball-playing Irish
and Slavic and Italian guys in their muscle shirts and gladi-ator footgear. Quite aside
from the fact that the jocks sometimes used him as their medicine ball, Blake had a
prob-lem with girls. He liked them. There was a word that rhymed with hex, and it
was often on his mind, but he hadnтАЩt had any. With all the hunks to choose from,
girls laughed in his face when he approached.

His mother knew, of course, though he told her nothing. тАЬSomeday there is
going to be a special girl for you, Blake,тАЭ she had said to him one evening out of thin
shadowy flour-clouded air. тАЬYouтАЩre small and dark, and that means youтАЩre smarter
than the others. So let the gadabout girls choose the big dumb brutes for now.
Someday there will be a beautiful girl who appreciates you the way I do.тАЭ

And then she had pushed cookies at his face.

Damn her, she adored him as only a mother could. And he hated her
devo-tion, because it only made him ache for a similar love from . . .
 Lying on his chaste bed, Blake al-lowed himself daydreams: not of any girl he
knew, because they all scorned him, but of an ideal lover he had never seen.
Passionate. Exotic. Erotic. A few years older than he, maybe, taller than he, even,
but only his lovemaking could satisfy her. Greek profile, with that wonderfully
patrician straight or slightly bowed line from brow to nose. Masses of black hair,
huge dark тАФ no, green тАФ no, purple eyes above fashion-model cheekbones. In his
imagination he kissed those cheekbones and her full hot lips and her exquisite
collarbone and so on down her lithe, throbbing body to her breasts. She had more
than two. The ones that showed through her clothes were full and bobbing, like a
cheerleaderтАЩs breasts, but on the rib-cage just below them were two more, smaller
ones with supersensitive nip-ples that excited her to do unspeakable acts, and in all
the world only he, Blake Bloodsworth the Master Lover, knew of them тАФ

Jesus, Blake mocked himself, adjust-ing the position of his hands. Stop now