Me and Mr. Stenner

Начало книги

Mr. Stenner didn’t know what a Shirley Temple was.

I thought a grown man had to be pretty dumb not to know what a Shirley Temple was, but I didn’t say anything about it. Mom smiled at him and said he certainly had a lot to learn about eleven-year-old girls, and then she told him what it was, and ordered one for me. I’ll tell you the truth, I felt somewhat betrayed. It was my father who’d introduced me to Shirley Temples, which I used to ask him to order for me whenever we went out to eat. I didn’t plan on sharing with Mr. Stenner anything Daddy and I had shared, and was in fact going to order a Coke. But Mom said, “Would you like a Shirley Temple, honey?” and that was when Mr. Stenner asked what a Shirley Temple was, and that started the whole dumb thing.

I sipped at the drink like a lady spy I’d seen on television, watching Mr. Stenner over the rim of the glass, ready to do something if he pulled a Luger pistol from his belt. Mr. Stenner seemed very nervous. Mom seemed nervous, too. I could tell; she was smiling a lot.

Читать дальше →