Blossom Street. Debbie MacomberЧитать онлайн книгу.
afraid of. The possibility of someone talking to her, perhaps.
Rather than brood on last week’s disappointment, Alix tossed back the sheets and climbed slowly out of bed. Laurel was sitting in front of the television, an old model with a faded picture tube and tinfoil-wrapped rabbit ears. Her roommate stared intently at a kids’ cartoon.
“Morning,” Alix muttered as she wandered into their tiny kitchen.
Laurel ignored her.
“What’s your problem?” she asked irritably. They were supposed to be friends, but Laurel rarely spoke to her anymore. She’d been sulking for weeks now.
Laurel shook her head, silently indicating that she didn’t want to talk. Alix had no idea what was bothering her, but she assumed it had something to do with that worm of a used-car salesman. He hadn’t been around lately. For a while they’d been together constantly and then all of a sudden he was out of the picture. Whatever had happened remained a mystery. Laurel certainly wasn’t telling.
“Fine, be in a bad mood.” Alix reached for a banana. “See if I care.”
Once again Laurel ignored her. Peeling the banana, Alix plopped down on the one stuffed chair in the apartment. Someone had abandoned it in a vacant lot. Alix and Laurel had come upon it and carried it the three blocks back to the apartment. It was pretty ratty, but Alix had found a printed sheet and spread it over the chair. With a few tucks and folds it wasn’t half bad. No designers would be asking her to make a guest appearance on their shows, but it worked for now.
Biting into the banana, Alix noticed that the baby blanket she was knitting lay on the floor.
“What the hell happened here?” she demanded. She flew off the chair to rescue her project. The ball of yarn had unwound and ended up near the apartment door.
Laurel wasn’t paying her any heed.
Standing directly in front of the television, Alix glared at her roommate. “I don’t know what your problem is, but get over it.”
“Keep your knitting away from me.”
Alix snickered; she couldn’t help it. “What’s the matter? Did it chase after you?”
“It was in my way.”
“So you threw it at the door?” Talk about unreasonable!
Laurel didn’t answer.
Alix examined the nearly completed blanket, unsure what she’d do if Laurel had caused her to drop stitches or worse, pulled out the needles. Laurel was treading precariously close to a fight. Alix was sick of her roommate’s bad moods, sick of her slovenly habits and sick of her mooning over a man who was a loser with a capital L.
“Get a grip, will you?” she snapped on her way back to the bedroom. They shared the one bedroom, which made life all the more difficult. The latest rumors floating around said the apartment building had been sold. Where they’d move next was as unclear as the stitches Alix had yet to master.
“You wouldn’t be so cruel if you …” Laurel didn’t finish. Instead she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.
Alix felt awful. Sitting next to Laurel, she sighed. “It’s lover boy, isn’t it?”
Laurel nodded. “He said … he doesn’t want to see me anymore.”
Anything Alix could say at that moment would have been wrong. Laurel didn’t want to hear what a loser John was. Alix didn’t understand why Laurel couldn’t see it when everyone else did. Okay, so John had a decent job. Nevertheless, he was a sleaze and nothing would discount that sad truth.
Laurel pulled her feet up and locked her arms around her knees. She’d been overweight when they met but now she seemed to be even bigger than Alix remembered. She’d obviously gained weight since the breakup. Now that Alix thought about it, they’d been going through a lot of groceries lately.
“Eating isn’t going to help.” Alix strived to sound sympathetic.
“Are you saying I’m fat?”
“Not fat, exactly.”
“Okay, I’m fat and ugly. You think I don’t know that?” Her voice dipped with venom and her greasy blond hair fell forward as she buried her face in her knees. “And mean.”
“Mean?” Alix asked, her suspicions growing.
Laurel nodded. “Jordan stopped by the store on Tuesday and asked me to give you a message and I didn’t.”
A chill came over Alix. “What was the message?”
“He … he wanted to take you roller-skating.”
“When?”
“This afternoon with a bunch of kids from his church and I didn’t tell you…. I know I should have, but I didn’t want you to have a man when I don’t. I’m fat and ugly and no one wants me.”
Laurel stood and reached inside her jeans for a folded-up piece of paper. “I was supposed to give you this.”
Alix unfolded the flyer and saw that it announced an afternoon skating party at a rink five blocks away. Alix stared at the page and turned it over to find a note Jordan had written her. “Alix, I’m looking for a partner. You interested?”
The way her heart nearly exploded told her she was. But skating? Her? Alix had never put on a pair of skates in her life. When she was five or six, all the kids who lived in the same apartment complex had roller skates. Alix had desperately longed for a pair. But finances were always a problem for her family. There wasn’t enough money for beer, cigarettes, drugs and roller skates, too.
“You want to come?” she asked Laurel, well aware of what it felt like to be excluded.
Laurel looked up, then shook her head. “No. Are you actually doing it?” She didn’t hide her astonishment.
Alix shrugged. “Maybe.”
She took an hour to think it over. Jordan claimed he liked her for herself. She wasn’t sure she should believe him; what he remembered was the girl she’d been at eleven, which was a far sight from the woman she was now. Despite her doubts she realized she wanted to trust him, wanted to be with him, the same way she had all those years ago.
Nothing had ever come easy for Alix. Everything had been a struggle. If she was going to have a good life, she had to make it happen herself. That recognition fired her determination to give this relationship a chance.
Alix was waiting outside the skating rink, leaning against the building, when the big yellow church bus pulled up. The doors opened and about a thousand preteens poured out. No one paid much attention to Alix until Jordan walked over to her, wearing the biggest grin she’d ever seen.
“I was hoping you’d show up.”
“I’m not skating.” She wanted that understood. “I came to watch.” She wasn’t willing to play the role of klutz in front of a crowd of teenyboppers.
“You’ll be missing out on all the fun.”
She didn’t care; no one was strapping her into a pair of skates.
The rink opened and the kids swarmed inside. Alix hung around on the street, smoking a cigarette, then casually wandered into the rink. Already kids were skating on the polished wooden floor, speeding around and around with the music blasting. This wasn’t music Alix recognized—but then she realized she did. She’d heard one of the songs while she was standing outside the church last Sunday morning. The rink apparently provided Christian rock.
Alix had to look for Jordan. Then she saw him, surrounded by kids. They followed him wherever he went—as though he were Moses, she thought with a smile. Some of that Bible stuff had definitely stuck. Jordan was busy helping them with their skates and putting on his own. Before he ventured into the rink, he stopped and gazed around. When he saw her, he smiled that lazy,