"Winter-NaturalBoy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Winter Laurel)

messy but not dirty, that there was a flashlight on the workbench near the door.

The first night they' had planned on inspecting the garage, nothing seemed to go
right. First, their mother stayed up late watching some movie. Maddy fell asleep
waiting for the TV sounds to stop. She was dreaming that they were approaching
the garage when Matt shook her awake. She socked him blindly. "Sorry," she
muttered, when she realized what and when and who. "You scared me."

There was another scare, too, as they eased the front door of the apartment
building open. Someone was crouched in the middle of the street, in spite of the
hour. Matt pulled the door closed again, holding the knob and turning it to
avoid even a click. Then they ran back upstairs, only semi-quietly, back into
their own apartment. They made their way to the living room window on hands and
knees and peered over the sill at the street below.

Although the butterscotch hair was bleached into a neutral color by the street
lights, they recognized the woman. She held a paint brash and a shiny can, and
she was going over the faded yellow lines in the center of the street with a
smooth motion, covering them with new, slick yellow. Crouch, paint, step to the
next line. They watched her until she was out of their view, still painting, and
then they went back to bed.

The next day, they argued about when to try again. Maddy thought they should do
it right away; Matt wanted to wait, to spy some more first, to see what else she
was up to. "She's done painting," Maddy pointed out. "And anyway, she's probably
tired from staying up so late last night. She'll go to bed early tonight."

"Yeah, maybe," said Matt. He looked a little tired himself.

"Scared?" teased Maddy.

He flashed her a dirty look, but he didn't argue anymore.

They pretended they were asleep when their mother came in to kiss them that
night. Maddy heard her whisper, "Good night, love," to Matt, up on the top bunk.
She waited, eyes lightly closed, in the cave created by Matt's bed. Feathery
touch of her mother's fingers on her cheek. "Good night, sweetie." Light kiss.
Blanket adjusted under her chin. Maddy had to fight to keep a smile from
escaping, to stifle a nervous giggle. Then the door closed. They were alone.

Scritch of springs above her as Matt changed positions. "Good night, sweetie,"
he whispered, in a mock falsetto. "Good night, love," she returned, almost
reluctantly. It wasn't really a joke, after all, that their mother loved them.

Matt's legs -- still in jeans -- appeared over the edge of the bunk. He quietly
twisted around and lowered himself to the floor, avoiding the creaky ladder.
Maddy sat up, letting the blanket fall away from her striped shirt. "We'd better
wait a little while," she murmured.

They sat, side by side, on Maddy's bed, listening to the sounds of water running