Read Online Anastasia's Chosen Career by Lois Lowry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lois Lowry
Tags: Ages 9 & Up
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would look so good cut short. My goodness, you look—"
"Older?" asked Anastasia hopefully.
"Yes. Definitely older."
"Prettier?" Anastasia smoothed her new haircut with her hands.
Her mother nodded. "Prettier. Of course I always thought you were pretty, anyway."
"Me, too," said Sam. "I was always pretty, too, wasn't I? I have pretty curls."
Anastasia ignored her brother, who was patting his own curly head. "I thought maybe they'd want to give me a perm, Mom," she said, "and I was mentally preparing myself for curls. But Aunt Vera—she's the lady in charge—she could
see
that I wasn't the curly type. And she was right, wasn't she, Mom? See how it hangs down all flat? I think it's kind of sophisticated-looking."
"It is," her mother agreed. "I like the way it falls forward there over your ears."
"Please," Dr. Krupnik said, "may I go watch the sports news on TV?"
Over dinner, Anastasia described the hair-styling session.
"This girl Bambie? The one with the V? She started out with curly red hair and she ended up with curly red hair, and she hadn't changed at all. But me, look how I changed!"
Everyone nodded. "Could you pour me a little more coffee, Katherine?" Anastasia's father said. "I'm going to be up late correcting exams so I might as well stock up on caffeine."
"Do you really have to work all evening?" Mrs. Krupnik asked as she added coffee to his cup. "I wanted you to watch
Nova
with me. It's all about creativity."
"And Robert? Stupid Robert Giannini? He got all nervous because he doesn't have facial hair yet. And he looked like such a jerk after he had his shampoo, because you have to wear a big bib, and lie there with your feet sticking straight out, but—"
"Excuse me, would you?" Her father stood up. "That's fascinating, Anastasia. But I really have to go and start on those exams. I'll try to take an hour off for
Nova,
Katherine." He headed for his study with the coffee cup in his hand.
"And this girl Helen Margaret! Mom, she had all this hair in her face, so you couldn't even tell what she looked like. I mean she might have had a face full of zits, and nobody would have
known!
But she didn't! They cut her hair real short, and all of a sudden she looked like—well, let me think, maybe Isabella Rossellini. Talk about
beautiful!
She still hangs her head and doesn't talk much, but you can
tell
that she really likes the way she looks, Mom. She kept peeking in the mirror and smiling—"
"Can I be excused?" asked Sam, squirming in his chair. "I want to play trucks."
Mrs. Krupnik nodded, and Sam scampered away.
"And wait till you hear this, Mom. My friend Henry? The one I told you about?"
"Is that rouge, Anastasia? Tell the truth." Her mother was looking intently at Anastasia's face.
"Just a little. We did make-up in the afternoon. All except Robert and Bambie. Did I tell you about that?" Anastasia chortled. "Robert and Bambie had to go in the other room for Diet Counseling. Of course Robert wouldn't have done make-up anyway; I mean he's a jerk, but not even Robert is
that
much of a jerk, that he'd wear make-up. But, Mom, the
thin
people—me and Helen Margaret and Henry—we got to do make-up, and the
others
—Robert and Bambie—had to go listen to a diet and exercise lecture. From Uncle Charley, of all people: one of the fattest men in the whole world!"
"It looks awfully pink to me, Anastasia. I don't think you ought to wear it to school."
School? Anastasia hadn't even thought about school since last Friday afternoon. Why did mothers always have to mention stuff like
school?
"Would you please listen? Forget the rouge. I promise I won't wear it to school. I want to tell you about my friend Henry."
Her mother began to clear the table. "Help me with the dishes, would you? And you can tell me about Henry then."
Typical, Anastasia thought. Try to tell a parent about the most interesting thing in the whole world, and they ask you to help with the dishes. Reluctantly she stacked up the four empty
"Older?" asked Anastasia hopefully.
"Yes. Definitely older."
"Prettier?" Anastasia smoothed her new haircut with her hands.
Her mother nodded. "Prettier. Of course I always thought you were pretty, anyway."
"Me, too," said Sam. "I was always pretty, too, wasn't I? I have pretty curls."
Anastasia ignored her brother, who was patting his own curly head. "I thought maybe they'd want to give me a perm, Mom," she said, "and I was mentally preparing myself for curls. But Aunt Vera—she's the lady in charge—she could
see
that I wasn't the curly type. And she was right, wasn't she, Mom? See how it hangs down all flat? I think it's kind of sophisticated-looking."
"It is," her mother agreed. "I like the way it falls forward there over your ears."
"Please," Dr. Krupnik said, "may I go watch the sports news on TV?"
Over dinner, Anastasia described the hair-styling session.
"This girl Bambie? The one with the V? She started out with curly red hair and she ended up with curly red hair, and she hadn't changed at all. But me, look how I changed!"
Everyone nodded. "Could you pour me a little more coffee, Katherine?" Anastasia's father said. "I'm going to be up late correcting exams so I might as well stock up on caffeine."
"Do you really have to work all evening?" Mrs. Krupnik asked as she added coffee to his cup. "I wanted you to watch
Nova
with me. It's all about creativity."
"And Robert? Stupid Robert Giannini? He got all nervous because he doesn't have facial hair yet. And he looked like such a jerk after he had his shampoo, because you have to wear a big bib, and lie there with your feet sticking straight out, but—"
"Excuse me, would you?" Her father stood up. "That's fascinating, Anastasia. But I really have to go and start on those exams. I'll try to take an hour off for
Nova,
Katherine." He headed for his study with the coffee cup in his hand.
"And this girl Helen Margaret! Mom, she had all this hair in her face, so you couldn't even tell what she looked like. I mean she might have had a face full of zits, and nobody would have
known!
But she didn't! They cut her hair real short, and all of a sudden she looked like—well, let me think, maybe Isabella Rossellini. Talk about
beautiful!
She still hangs her head and doesn't talk much, but you can
tell
that she really likes the way she looks, Mom. She kept peeking in the mirror and smiling—"
"Can I be excused?" asked Sam, squirming in his chair. "I want to play trucks."
Mrs. Krupnik nodded, and Sam scampered away.
"And wait till you hear this, Mom. My friend Henry? The one I told you about?"
"Is that rouge, Anastasia? Tell the truth." Her mother was looking intently at Anastasia's face.
"Just a little. We did make-up in the afternoon. All except Robert and Bambie. Did I tell you about that?" Anastasia chortled. "Robert and Bambie had to go in the other room for Diet Counseling. Of course Robert wouldn't have done make-up anyway; I mean he's a jerk, but not even Robert is
that
much of a jerk, that he'd wear make-up. But, Mom, the
thin
people—me and Helen Margaret and Henry—we got to do make-up, and the
others
—Robert and Bambie—had to go listen to a diet and exercise lecture. From Uncle Charley, of all people: one of the fattest men in the whole world!"
"It looks awfully pink to me, Anastasia. I don't think you ought to wear it to school."
School? Anastasia hadn't even thought about school since last Friday afternoon. Why did mothers always have to mention stuff like
school?
"Would you please listen? Forget the rouge. I promise I won't wear it to school. I want to tell you about my friend Henry."
Her mother began to clear the table. "Help me with the dishes, would you? And you can tell me about Henry then."
Typical, Anastasia thought. Try to tell a parent about the most interesting thing in the whole world, and they ask you to help with the dishes. Reluctantly she stacked up the four empty
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