Christina Mandelski The Sweetest Thing (epub)

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.I want to tell her I’m going to Chicago, the day after tomorrow, to bring Mom back.But she’s so upset, I can’t.I can’t make her understand that Mom will not hurt me and that this is something that I have to do.Nanny sniffs.I put the cup back down and lean over, into her shoulder.“Don’t cry, Nan.It’s okay.”“Oh, I don’t mean to be wailin’ like a newborn, but if I see you get hurt again, I don’t know what I’ll do.” She sits up and wipes her eyes.“You know what? I think we need some cheesecake.”I laugh.Cake cures all in the mind of my grandmother.“Nah, I better go home.I’ve got some homework to finish.”“Gracious, girl, I didn’t know that.” She stands up and groans.“Then go.Shoo, shoo.”I drain my cup.“Thanks for the tea,” I say as she walks me to the door.We stand face-to-face as she swings it open.“You know I love you more than anything else on this great big earth?” she says, her voice breaking.I make a mental map of the crinkles around her eyes, focus on the sparkle in the deep blue flecked with gold.“I know you do.” And she gives me the hug of my life, tight and tender all at the same time.“I love you, too.”The walk home is quiet and cold.When I get to my 167room, I throw my schoolbag off the bed.It falls on its side, and out slips the dreaded sketchbook.I pick it up and flip it open.The project is due in one week.I need to finish it.I need to start it.Mrs.Ely doesn’t get it.Art is hard for me.With cakes, I can talk to customers and come up with a design that they’ll love.With art, there is no one to consult; it’s just me and the paper.Scary.I pull a charcoal pencil out of my desk drawer, and my hand starts to draw a curved line, a jaw, a loose lock of hair that looks like sunshine.Eyes that curve downward and seem sort of sleepy.My mother.I rip the page out and crumple it up.Every once in a while I try to draw her, but whenever I do, it’s the same story.All wrong; a terrible likeness.Honestly, I barely remember what she looks like anymore.It scares me.I need to get to her soon, before she disappears forever.168Chapter 14that takes the cakeThe party for Growly starts in half an hour, but I’m still recovering from the school day.Wasserman is trying to murder us slowly with chemical equations, and Mrs.Ely asked to see our projects so far.I had to lie and tell her I left my sketchbook at home.“Monday, then.I want to see it on Monday,”she said as if she knew full well that I hadn’t completed even one of the ten drawings we’re supposed to sketch and color.People are already showing up in the parish hall.Lots of people.In fact, it looks like the whole town is here.My beautiful cake is sure to be history in record time.“Dat is the best one yet,” Mr.Roz says, nodding toward the fondant flower garden I’ve created.“How you say? It‘takes cake’?” He says that about every cake; it’s our little joke.And then I say, “It takes THE cake.” And then he says,“Where it take the cake?” He laughs and pats my back, then takes a few pictures for the bakery’s Web site before it’s all gone.I humor him with a chuckle and adjust a tiny hydrangea bloom.It really is perfect.As the party progresses, I am called a genius more times than I can count by the guests.A steady stream of thank-yous comes out of my mouth as I help the guys from Sheridan & Irving’s get set up.They are handling the bar and serving hors d’oeuvres.People are practically drooling over the spread in front of them.There’s even a rumor going around that Chef Wells himself will make an appearance.Oh, brother.I don’t think he’ll come at all.He made an appearance in my bedroom doorway about an hour ago and handed me a card to give to Growly.Then he had the nerve to get all “dad” on me.I had put on my favorite jeans and a tightish, lowish-cut shirt that makes the most of whatever miniscule curves I have.“You wearing that?” Dad asked.“Yes,” I said without a moment’s hesitation.He grunted.“I don’t want you wearing something like that in South Bend.” He also thinks Lori and I are going to Notre Dame for the weekend.I had told him that I was feeling stressed and needed some time away.He hadn’t liked the idea of my being gone right before the show, so I cried a 170little, and then he said yes.Doesn’t suspect a thing.“Fine,” I said as he turned to leave.Once he was gone, I reached into my jewelry box and picked up my mom’s heart-shaped note.I felt like I needed it.For luck or something.Now at the party, Father Crowley walks up to me with a glass of wine in his hand, his face puckered into its usual scowl.The man is never happy.“Good evening, Sheridan,” he says, oh-so-friendly-like [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Linki